Salvation in the Sun

by Lauren Lee Merewether

  “I am cursed!” she yelled as she sent the golden discs adorning their relief table across the room. “Egypt is in ruin!”

  She knocked a small statue to the ground. And I lost three of my precious daughters to the plague! Her screams attacked the stone walls around her and raced back to her ears as she threw a lampstand to the ground.

  And Kiya! “Kiya!”

  She tore a curtain from the window, tears gushing from her eyes.

  “Kiya . . .”

  Her hands grabbed for anything they could touch and she ripped the sheets from the bed. I accused her of betraying me when she had done nothing. The tapestry hanging from the wall was no match against her rage.

  “And my husband.” Her breaths were shallow as she bent over, trying to catch her breath. “Pharaoh Akhenaten!” She screamed his name again and again, disgust filling her mouth.

  I have let him go mad! I have done this!

  She collapsed against the back wall.

  She looked at the destruction of her bed chambers and fell to the floor, lying curled up underneath the window, weeping.

  AITYE STOOD outside Nefertiti’s door, valiantly guarding it against anyone who dared question her beloved Queen’s behavior.

  NEFERTITI STAYED IN HER CHAMBERS, destroying everything she could find, not eating, barely sleeping, for days on end.

  Losing track of time, she awoke to Aitye holding a cool cloth to her face. Aitye had tiptoed over the mess to her as she lay there unresponsive, and helped her sit up. She had also brought her food and drawn her a bath. Nefertiti didn’t ask how much time had passed.

  When she emerged, she learned that Kiya’s body had been sent back to Mitanni.

  NEFERTITI RULED DURING THE DAY, declining pleas for help and trying to stockpile treasury funds to last Egypt a little while longer in order to keep Egypt afloat. At night, Nefertiti would send word to Pharaoh Akhenaten, asking him if she could bring Egypt back to Amun-Re for the sake of the Egyptian treasury, and he would respond the same.

  “The Aten will provide, as he has always done for me. If you betray the sole god, you will face impalement.”

  He could forget anything at will, but his threat to me he would always remember, she thought every time he sent the same message back.

  Nefertiti slept in her torn and damaged chambers, which she ordered to not be touched; they reminded her of her failures as a mother, a Queen, and a friend. She came to love the darkness, where she could hide and sob away the time. Aitye drew her a bath every morning and night, and the warm water became her addiction.

  CHAPTER 26

  THE TIME OF TORTURE

  She dealt with one day at a time until numbness guarded her soul.

  Aitye left her soaking in the bath one morning when a messenger from General Paaten came and knocked on the door.

  “I have a message for Pharaoh Coregent Neferneferuaten,” he said, and pushed past Aitye, but Aitye held her ground.

  “I will take the message to her,” she said.

  The messenger saw the destruction behind the cracked door and decided it was probably best to let someone else deliver the message. “General Paaten and Master of Pharaoh’s Horses, Ay, have captured a spy from the growing rebellion against Pharaoh. General Paaten wishes to speak to Pharaoh Coregent in the council room, and there they will proceed to the throne room.”

  “I will tell Pharaoh Coregent,” Aitye said.

  The messenger left and Aitye returned filled with visible dread and grief.

  Nefertiti sat in her tub with one elbow on a knee, staring at the stone wall in front of her, expressionless, her mind as lukewarm as the water in which she sat.

  “Pharaoh Coregent,” Aitye said.

  Nefertiti, without moving, responding, “What is it, Aitye?”

  “The general has captured a spy. He requests your presence in the council room.”

  Nefertiti lay motionless in the tub. Everything hurt to move.

  Aitye crouched eye-level with her. “My Queen.”

  Nefertiti looked to her.

  “General Paaten has a spy. He requests your presence in the council room.”

  Nefertiti closed her eyes, then finally opened them with an audible exhale. Uncaring of the open door, she slowly stood up and allowed Aitye to dry her naked body. Her children were heretics, her friends dead, her husband mad, her country in shambles. Her face held no expression as monotony filled her words.

  “What else do you have for me, Amun-Re? What more punishment do you give me? I will take it! There is nothing more you can do to me!”

  She looked to Aitye. “There is nothing else I can lose.” Queen Tiye’s wisdom came to her: Do what is best for Egypt; Egypt needs a strong Pharaoh, a Pharaoh who will defend them.

  Aitye cowered in fear. This new Queen, this new master, she did not like. Feeling her pain, though, she nodded her head in agreement and continued to dry Nefertiti’s perfumed skin as she stepped from the tub.

  After Aitye dressed her, Nefertiti marched to the council room. She would deal with this spy and let the rebellion know she was not to be trifled with. She would be a stone Queen for all to see, forever engraved in the walls. She would bring Egypt back to its former glory if it were the last thing she did.

  “PHARAOH COREGENT NEFERNEFERUATEN,” General Paaten said with a bow as Nefertiti walked into the room.

  “My daughter,” Ay said with a warm smile.

  She tilted her head but said nothing. At this, her father’s smile vanished. She went and stood where Pharaoh usually sat and General Paaten stood across from her. Ay, wishing he’d been able to give his child a long embrace as she entered, left the entrance of the room and stood side by side with Paaten.

  “A spy?” Nefertiti began. She couldn’t look at her father. He had promised her that if she was loyal, if she was patient, if she was a good wife, it would all fall into place. Her lips pressed tightly together.

  “We have found a spy in the midst of the palace: a man posing as a servant to Pharaoh. He refuses to speak, but we know he is from the growing rebellion of which I had heard rumors about before the plague struck,” General Paaten said. “I also believe we may be losing Commander Horemheb to our plan. He sees no end in sight—and I agree with him—but I made Queen Tiye and Pharaoh Amenhotep III a promise that I intend to keep.”

  “The question is: How long will his loyalty to the royal family outweigh his loyalty to Amun?” Ay asked.

  “It is the same question we all ask ourselves.” General Paaten shook his head. “Beketaten married an Amun prophet and they tried to kill her own brother through a rebellion. They did not believe loyalty to family ever outweighed loyalty to Amun. I have no evidence whatsoever to tie them to this plot, but I would wager my firstborn son—if I had one—that they are behind it.”

  “They fight for Amun-Re. Can you blame them?” Nefertiti said as she sat down with a stiff and straight back.

  “No, I cannot. Nevertheless, we are bound by our oaths to protect Pharaoh and Egypt from any threat,” General Paaten said. “The people know the consequences of raising arms or conspiring against Pharaoh no matter what decrees he makes. They will answer for their crimes.”

  “Yes, they will. They are breaking our law,” she said, but in truth, she almost sympathized with them. She never would have thought about conspiring against or rebelling against Pharaoh if she had been a subject, but perhaps break the law in the privacy of her home by worshiping the way she knew to worship. Then again, madness had overcome her husband. “And what do we do when the threat to Egypt is Pharaoh himself?” Nefertiti asked, her eyes as cold as stone, cooling the red puffiness beneath them.

  General Paaten put both hands wide on the table and hung his head. Lifting it slowly to look at her, he pursed his lips as no answer came to mind.

  “Do we let them come?” Nefertiti asked him. “Let them kill him and our family?”

  “Never!” Ay banged on the table with a hard fist.

  “So that Egypt may retur
n to Amun-Re and the other gods of Egypt who have been neglected?”

  “No,” General Paaten said. “If we do that, we let them take the power of Pharaoh. We let all of this that has happened be in vain. We must do everything we can to prevent the uprising.”

  “They will not stop with just Akhenaten. They will come for me as well, as I have feigned loyalty to the Aten all these years—so well, in fact, that my children only believe in the Aten,” she hissed through her teeth. “It may be worth the sacrifice.”

  “Pharaoh Coregent,” General Paaten said, walking over to her. Kneeling down, he whispered, “Your sacrifice has already been great. I will not allow you to sacrifice any more.”

  Ay stood and watched them as the general’s words sank into his soul. No . . . I will not allow you, my precious lotus blossom, to suffer any longer either. I will protect you—like I should have done years ago when they first approached me.

  Her hand graced the scar on the general’s face, and she kissed his forehead. “You saved my life when they rebelled the first time. Do not let me cause another scar to your body. I only ask, if they come and if the end is seemingly near, that you take my children and my servants, if you can get to them.”

  She paused wanting to say Kiya’s name as well—but she was dead and no longer in need of saving, so she continued.

  “Leave Egypt forever. Protect them from the people who want us all dead. Take what you need from the treasury—I give you an order to be prepared for when that day comes.”

  General Paaten, after a moment of silence, dropped his head in obedience. “Until that day, however, I will protect you with all whom I command,” he said.

  “My heart is with you, General Paaten.”

  She stood and looked to her father. Ay could not hide the shame blushing his cheeks.

  General Paaten glanced between the two of them, lost in their own silent conversation, and after a few moments hid a cough and asked, “Now . . . what do we do about this spy?”

  “We put the fear of Pharaoh Coregent in him. We make him tell us what he knows,” Nefertiti said with black eyes.

  Ay nodded, but his heart fell into his stomach. She had reached out for help so many times before, but he had only given her kind words of encouragement; he’d never taken the time to help his daughter when she was in need.

  “I have nothing left to fear,” she said.

  Her words punched her father in the bowels of his stomach.

  “So it shall be,” General Paaten said.

  Walking from the room, she first had her royal dress, crown, and golden cape draped on her, then entered the throne room and took her place seated upon her throne to wait for the doors to open. General Paaten and Ay stood on either side of her.

  “Bring the bone-breaker,” she ordered a nearby soldier, knowing she had to put the fear of Pharaoh into the spy should he force her hand. She looked to General Paaten, who nodded in agreement.

  Ay looked to the doors, awaiting their opening, not wishing to see his beloved lotus blossom shrivel and sink into darkness.

  THE DOORS to the throne room swung open with a loud whoosh. Two soldiers pushed the spy forward and goaded him by the sharp tips of their spears. He appeared before Nefertiti standing on the ground at the base of the steps to her throne.

  General Paaten, who stood at the step below, crossed his arms at his silence. “You will bow to Pharaoh Coregent.”

  The spy stood and rocked on his heels, clasping his hands into a firm knot in front of his stomach. “I do not bow to heretics.”

  “I am Pharaoh Coregent Neferneferuaten!” she bellowed, and shot up from her throne. The echo resounded off the walls and attacked the corridors. Taking a few steps closer to the detainee, she said, “And you will obey Pharaoh!” as she swished the bottom of her golden cape behind her.

  He spat on the stone floor. “I will never bow to you or your blasphemous husband.”

  Nefertiti strutted deliberately to the detainee. Her dress slithered on her body like a loose snakeskin as she walked to the first step. She let him take in the shimmering gold that lit up the room from the sun’s rays. His jaw dropped just barely, but he shut it closed. Nefertiti, although hardened and calloused, still captivated every man to lay eyes on her.

  She glared into his eyes. “You will bow to the Pharaoh Coregent of Egypt.”

  As she turned to walk back to her throne, she looked to General Paaten, and he gave a motion to the soldier who was sent to retrieve the bone-breaker. The soldier picked up the heavy bronze club and hoisted it over his head.

  Nefertiti reached her throne and finally looked to her father. She saw sorrow behind his hardened gaze, but she ignored it; she needed to be the strength Egypt lacked now. Akhenaten would eventually die—either from madness, wine, or old age—and when that time came, she would be there to turn Egypt back. Until that time, Pharaoh could not risk another rebellion. She sat down with an elegant grace.

  “If you will not bow by your own free will, then Pharaoh will make you bow.”

  He glowered at her in silence.

  Nefertiti nodded to the solider, and with that, the solider swung the club.

  A loud bone-breaking CRACK! filled the throne room, followed by an intense cry of agony.

  The soldiers looked to Nefertiti to see if she would flinch at the sound, but she did not. She had felt more agony than this poor man would ever feel.

  Another swing, another bone-breaking sound, another cry of agony followed.

  The guards who held the detainee finally let him go, and he fell to the floor. His fists beat the stone, his forehead pressed to the ground, his eyes tightly squeezed shut, and his mouth moaned in pain.

  “You choose to bow with your head to the floor . . .” Nefertiti paused as she watched him writhe in pain. “Pharaoh Coregent is flattered. Take him away,” she told the guards.

  They picked him up, and all watched his legs dangle behind him as they dragged him away to the palace prison. They could still hear his cries as he disappeared down the corridor.

  “Foolish pride,” Nefertiti whispered under her breath. “Foolish, all of it, so foolish.”

  “Pharaoh Coregent, may I speak freely?” General Paaten asked his Queen, a little shocked by her iciness yet proud to have a ruler who could do what needed to be done.

  “Yes, General Paaten, you may always speak freely. You have earned that right.”

  “He will answer our questions, but not without . . . extreme persuasion.”

  “Use whatever means you deem necessary, General Paaten. He is a criminal and must pay for his crime of conspiracy against Pharaoh.”

  He nodded. “Yes, Pharaoh Coregent.”

  “After we receive our answers from the spy,” Nefertiti said, “should we publicly execute him to send a message to the others?”

  Ay’s eyes fell to the floor, and he bit his tongue.

  “I think it may help lessen the speed of the attack, yes.”

  Ay looked back up. “He may also be made a martyr, and to silence a martyr would take an act of Amun-Re.”

  Nefertiti sighed. “Perhaps the best course of action is to keep him hidden in the prison, then.”

  “TAKE HIM TO THE BURIAL-PREPARATORY ROOM,” General Paaten ordered the guards.

  “General,” Ay said, pausing while the guards did as they were told. “The royal army will need to tighten its defenses. Let me see to it. Both of us do not need to be interrogators.”

  “Queasy stomach?” General Paaten chuckled and put his hand on Ay’s shoulder.

  Ay smiled with the right side of his face. “Yes,” he lied.

  “Very well, Ay. You, Master of Pharaoh’s Horses, tend to the military, and I will begin the questioning. Should you find yourself with nothing to do, I may need a reprieve.”

  Ay nodded as a sign of respect and left.

  Paaten journeyed to the burial-preparatory room. The guards had lain the spy on the stone table. “I want to see his face,” he told the soldiers.


  They strapped him down with ropes, face up. Beset, one of the priests of the Aten—formerly Anubis—who performed burial preparations, was summoned and came as commanded ready to begin the mummification process, but was surprised when he found a living subject. A soldier pulled him aside and filled him in. He nodded in agreement.

  “Listen closely, spy,” General Paaten said. “Since I do not know your name, I will refer to you as ‘the intruder.’ If you do not answer the questions I ask you correctly, I will not kill you, but I will order Beset, priest of the Aten, to slowly cut off and take out pieces of your body.”

  “You . . . you just said you wouldn’t kill me,” the man said. “How can I live without pieces of my body?”

  “The body can adapt.”

  His eyes widened. “I will never tell you anything! Just kill me now! Your time spent torturing me will be a waste!”

  “I remember you saying you would never bow to Pharaoh Coregent either,” General Paaten said with a grin, and looked pointedly at the man’s bloody, swollen knees.

  His guards laughed beside him.

  “Let’s begin with our first question, shall we? Who sent you to spy on the great nation of Egypt?”

  “This is not Egypt. This is some man’s fantasy. Egypt is where my loyalties lie.”

  General Paaten took a flattened bronze stick and whacked the intruder’s knees. He cried out in pain.

  “Answer the question: Who sent you to spy on Pharaoh?”

  The intruder glanced to Beset, situated in the corner mulling over his instruments, then looked steadily at the general. “Who do you think?”

  General Paaten whacked his knees again. “Answer the question!” he bellowed. “Who sent you to spy on the Pharaoh of Egypt?”

  The intruder moaned in pain. His body sunk beneath the ropes. He hung his head, whimpering. General Paaten raised the stick again.