"The temple is closed, the priests dispersed or dead, and Amun is gone. Otherwise I wouldn't go to Thebes, even to visit my dear sister."
Kissing her cheek, Akhenaten said, "It is a great comfort to know that you live in truth as I do, my beautiful one. I don't know what I would do if that weren't so."
Court business delayed Nefertiti's journey to Thebes for a few days. As the stubble in the fields shriveled under the heat of the Aten, so her ka withered in ever-present grief for her children. While she struggled in silence, the court adapted itself to Akhenaten's growing preoccupation with the Aten's revelations. An easy task, for all that the living god desired instantly came to be.
She sent Ay to the hidden messenger chosen by Shedamun with instructions and embarked at last for Thebes. The days sailing upstream should have been peaceful. They would have been if not for the nightmare. Always the dream began by the river's edge.
Clad in a shift, she scooped mud from the river bottom and mixed it with straw. When she had a mound of the ooze prepared, she picked up a bucket and poured the mud into wooden molds to make bricks that would dry in the sun on the bank. She worked in the heat until she had seven rows of bricks that stretched along the bank as far as she could see.
She was kneeling over her latest effort when Akhenaten appeared from the sky. Pharaoh landed in the middle of her bricks, squashing them to shapelessness, and strode toward her. As her husband trampled the neat squares, she protested, but Akhenaten only smiled and kept walking until he stood over Nefertiti.
Wearing his double crown, Akhenaten was naked and carried his golden crook and flail. Pharaoh planted his feet apart, right in the middle of two of Nefertiti's best bricks.
"Beautiful one, this work isn't important. Pleasing me is important."
While Nefertiti crouched before him, Akhenaten laughed. The king discarded his scepters and began to grow. His body stretched until it was the size of one of his colossi, and then it started to grow breasts in imitation of the stone image. The hips widened, and Nefertiti stared in horror. Akhenaten bent down from his great height, picked her up, and tore her shift.
Fortunately, her favorite maid slept in her cabin on the royal yacht. When Nefertiti woke sweating and disturbed, she had company. The next evening at sunset she was on deck, craning her neck for the first sight of the temples of Amun. For as long as she could remember, the gold-tipped flagstaffs with their scarlet banners meant homecoming. Impatient, she dragged a stool to the railing. She stood on it to watch the setting sun illuminate the stone and bricks of the houses and temples of Thebes. One of her ladies came to stand beside her.
Nefertiti pointed in the direction of the Amun temple and its surrounding structures. "We're almost there." As they sailed closer, she nearly betrayed herself with an exclamation. Even from the river she could see that only one flagstaff remained, its banner shredded and limp.
Although it had been closed, the temple hadn't deteriorated to this state the last time she visited the city. The house of the god was dark. Gashes cut through the paint on the massive pylons, and the great doors-stripped of their gold-hung open. She blinked. Was she mad? Did she see a peasant leading donkeys through the sacred precinct? Tents. She saw tents, and goats.
Mighty Amun, forgive us. There were weeds growing inside the temple courtyards. No wonder the gods had abandoned her. But she couldn't do anything to prevent this rapid deterioration. If she did, word would speed to Akhenaten. Her actions were watched by great ones and commoners alike, including those in her household. Some, like Tutu, kept their ears pricked for any transgression that might be used to lessen pharaoh's affection for her.
Walking along the railing, Nefertiti let the desecrated temples go by. Silence governed the normally talkative crew of the royal ship, but she paid no heed to the apprehensive glances the sailors cast at her. She would pray to the Hidden One for forgiveness.
Until she arrived at the palace, Nefertiti avoided looking in the direction of the temple. It only reminded her of the god's anger and how her children had suffered because of it. While her household prepared for residence, she tried to take comfort in the familiarity of her old rooms. The jewel-blue of the water scene on the floor had been the girl's delight. In a spot near the bed, her favorite painted fish gleamed, all black, blue, and yellow scales.
When she could stand no more of the bustle of unpacking, she dismissed her attendants. A stroll around the bedchamber convinced her that no one lingered nearby. From a casket she removed a pen holder. A tubular case made for rush pens, it was another of Akhenaten's myriad gifts. The container was modeled in the shape of a palm-tree column and consisted of wood overlaid with gold foil and inlaid with precious stones.
Nefertiti ran her fingers over the bright green-and-blue hieroglyphs that spelled her name before she removed the stopper and pens. With a last glance around the room she worked a finger into the tube and withdrew a roll of papyrus. The pen holder was discarded. Sitting cross-legged on the bed, she unrolled the papyrus by the light of an alabaster lamp.
Her own handwriting scrawled across three pages in what she liked to think of as a plan to restore the Two Lands to Maat. It had taken her and Ay many days of plotting and planning to come up with these few scraps of paper. The most difficulty was caused by trying to balance the needs of the Two Lands against the prejudice of Akhenaten and the cries for revenge from the priests of Amun. Add to that the dissatisfaction in the army, and achieving harmony and balance became more difficult than making friends with a jackal.
Her fingers let the papyrus snap back into a tight roll. Never had she felt so desolate and alone. Ay's plans to return the army to its old efficiency, her strategy to round up those who embezzled imposts and dues intended for pharaoh, all depended on their ability to invoke obedience from the powerful priesthood and army. It was she who must command the loyalty to the throne despite the hatred Akhenaten deliberately courted.
With a sigh Nefertiti twisted the papyrus and slipped it back into the pen holder. She blew out the lamp, discarded her robe, and lay down. She said a brief prayer to Amun, asking for a peaceful sleep.
"Husband, why can't I hate you? Then my heart would find balance."
It wasn't within her ka to despise Akhenaten completely. No one had ever told her that love was a hard thing to destroy. For every time Akhenaten indulged in an excess of fanaticism, there was an unexpected kindness to match it. And Akhenaten was good to her as well. She remembered the day on which she'd become his wife. He'd given the largest feast she'd ever seen. And in the years that followed he had confided in her, trusted her, and become openly proud of her governing skills. When Nefertiti sequestered herself with Ay and a pile of foreign letters, Akhenaten would forbid the court to disturb her.
If only he was totally evil; but he's not. He's kind to the people of his city. He cares for those who are in trouble, once he can be brought to pay attention to them. He even keeps that drunken steward Ahmose, and I wouldn't have that idiot in my household for a week.
Nefertiti rubbed her temples and tried to ease the tension in the muscles across her forehead. She would try to forget Akhenaten for a little while. She needed rest, and she craved respite from this eternal battle between love and hate.
Three nights of solitude brought some peace to her ka. She spent this time cultivating the appearance of inactivity. She gossiped with her sister and ladies. She sailed on the river and chose new pleated gowns of the sheerest linen. Then word came from Shedamun that the priests of Amun would be in Thebes in nine days. By the end of those nine days, Nefertiti was sick of fittings and holdings feasts for local nobility. She was even more tired of the rituals of the Aten carried on by the ubiquitous Thanuro.
"The man is irritating," Nefertiti said to her father. "When he isn't performing rituals, he's busy ferreting out more of Amun's hidden treasures or trying to get me to give him yet another lucrative post."
It was the day of the meeting with the priests. She, Sebek, and Ay stood beside the
Nile, watching fishermen cast their nets. Ay waded out among the water plants, spear in hand. His voice subdued, he stared into the river. "Thanuro knows that there are two paths to the king's favor-absolute devotion to the Aten, and service to you. Perhaps you haven't given the man enough to do." He stabbed downward, but missed.
Nefertiti chuckled. "He could give you fishing lessons."
Ay rolled his eyes and splashed drops of water at her.
Nefertiti returned the splash, then grew serious. "About our plans for this evening. Did you not say that famous dancer from Tyre was in the city?"
"Yes" Ay said.
"Is she good?"
Ay shrugged, but Sebek answered.
"Majesty, she and her troupe could hold the attention of an army."
"Bring her to the palace tonight and see that she distracts my household. Say that I've given permission for a banquet for my hardworking servants."
Sebek and Ay grinned at her.
That night Nefertiti set out for the meeting with an easy heart. Ay came with her into a poor district where the meeting was to take place, but she refused to take any guards other than Sebek. Thus it was a small party that stepped into the narrow front room of a deserted fisherman's house. Sebek remained outside.
In the uncertain light of clay bowls filled with oil, Nefertiti could barely make out three men in plain, cheap kilts. One carried an old walking stick, and none had the shaved head of a priest.
Nefertiti stepped from behind Ay and drew back the hood of the cloak she'd worn to conceal her face. Lamplight cast a dull gleam on the gold at her wrists. As the cloak fell away from her face, she heard a gasp quickly stifled. The three men knelt. The fact that they didn't touch their heads to the floor wasn't lost on Nefertiti. She gave permission for the men to rise and took the only chair in the room. Ay took up a stance at her right hand.
From a black corner Shedamun edged forward to stand between the priests and Nefertiti. "I–I told you the queen would come. I told you. Th-they didn't believe me, majesty."
Nefertiti made a slow, economical gesture with one hand. Shedamun quieted. She had to establish dominance at once. Already the man with the walking stick was eyeing her with satisfaction. She could almost hear the man's thoughts. He probably expected an awed and frightened woman.
"Father, you may give me the names of these men."
"Great queen of the Two Lands, beloved of the good god, here stand before you the second prophet of Amun, the divine father Iny, and the lector priest Bekenamun."
The second prophet of Amun stepped forward. With a bow, he leaned on his walking stick and addressed Nefertiti. "Mighty queen, I am Unnefer of Thebes." Unnefer curled bony fingers around his staff and leaned in Nefertiti's direction. "I have come to hear thy answer to the message sent by the revered high priest."
The words were subservient, and Unnefer said them in a deprecating tone. Nefertiti rested her hands on the arms of the chair and looked at the priest.
"Maat has been banished from the Two Lands. The gods punish Egypt and will continue to do so until the divine order is restored."
She received four grateful bows for these words.
"I would know how the high priest of Amun proposes to help me restore Maat," she said.
Unnefer needed no further encouragement. He drew himself up to his full height. "Evil cannot be banished from the Two Lands until the King of the Gods reigns once more in Thebes. Amun demands his house and his possessions. Egypt must worship the Hidden One, beg his forgiveness, supplicate him with gifts. The rage of Amun is great. Witness the lawlessness and plagues that threaten our cities. If we were to offer all the gold in Nubia to the Hidden One, it wouldn't be enough. The god cries out for vengeance, majesty. Without it, chaos will destroy Egypt."
During this tirade Nefertiti kept her gaze on the second prophet. She'd expected anger and demands for restoration. She'd expected the hunger for lost riches and power. All these she perceived. And something more. She saw Akhenaten's intolerance. Unnefer looked nothing like her husband. The priest was short and built like a small crane with narrow bones and legs much too long in proportion to his torso. Age lines made rivulets perpendicular to his lips, and his lower face had that sunken look that went with the loss of teeth. But regardless of his age or god, Unnefer spoke with the same fury she'd heard so often from pharaoh.
Whatever the cost, these two infernos must not meet. Nefertiti held out her hand. Ay placed a cup of wine in it. She let the men wait while she took a sip. The two junior priests exchanged uneasy glances.
"I agree," she said.
Unnefer smiled and took on the air of a basking crocodile.
"The house of the god must be put in order. The old ways must be brought back." Peering at Unnefer over the rim of her cup, Nefertiti paused before she went on. "I'll have to approach pharaoh, and this is a most difficult task. I don't have to speak of pharaoh's attitude. It will take much time, I fear." She saw the three begin to relax. "In the meantime there is much to be done in the service of Maat. I expect the priesthood to labor hard, since I too will be working."
"Labor, majesty?" Unnefer sounded as if the word was one he didn't associate with himself.
"Yes. I know that the servants of Amun have been dispersed from Thebes, but I also know that they remain in the towns and villages of the Two Lands." Nefertiti crossed her ankles and took another drink. "There are pure ones and hour priests scattered from Bubastis to Elephantine, and they all owe allegiance to Amun and the high priest." Without warning she raised her voice. "They will stop preaching against pharaoh."
"The king is possessed by evil demons," Unnefer said.
"Your priests will cease to encourage disobedience and rebellion. You'll agree, or this meeting is at an end." Nefertiti felt Ay stir beside her. She hadn't told her father she was planning to make this threat, but it was her sacred duty to protect Akhenaten. Her husband didn't have the sense to do it himself.
Watching Unnefer's round eyes squeeze shut, she thought the man would dare to curse her. Admiration for the man's discipline came to her as the priest set his mouth in a thin line and muttered an obedient response.
"It's well that you agree." Nefertiti gave them a bright smile and soft laugh. The priests jumped, and Unnefer gave her a long, guarded look. "You see, I don't know where I'd find other knowledgeable priests to staff the newly restored temple if I became displeased with you. Of course there are plenty of courtiers who'd want the positions." Standing, Nefertiti handed Ay her cup. She let the cloak slip to the floor and walked across the room to Unnefer. "Yes, I'd waste a lot of time if I had to recruit priests with the proper devotion to pharaoh." She glanced back at Unnefer with another smile. "I knew the servants of Amun wouldn't fail me."
There was an odd sound. It was the grinding of Unnefer's few teeth.
"Great royal wife," Unnefer said. "Thy will shall be done."
"Yes, it will. But I'm not finished, Unnefer. The priests will also help me in other matters. Food must be distributed from the royal estates. Corrupt tax officers and soldiers must be discovered and punished. The peasants have to be protected against thieves, noble or otherwise. I'll send you lists of tasks, and soon I'll send my own representative to you in Elephantine. Amun's followers are countless; they will be my eyes and ears in this restoration."
"Highness, we are priests," Unnefer said.
"You're going to be much more. You will succor the poor and ferret out corruption. You'll aid the police and army so that peace will reign." She stopped; Unnefer's face had taken on a stunned look. "I'll provide Amun with supplies and slaves from my own estates once pharaoh has been persuaded to agree to the restoration."
She was gratified when the three priests bowed in response to her words. Nefertiti went to her father, and Ay settled her cloak on her shoulders. Unnefer scuttled over to her, bowed, and whispered so that only she could hear.
"I've been remiss, most divine queen."
"Oh?"
"The high priest most
adamantly instructed me to pray for the health of pharaoh, may he live-forever."
Nefertiti's hands stilled their smoothing of the cloak. She lifted her gaze to Unnefer and gave an almost imperceptible nod.
"The high priest is concerned about pharaoh's frequent illnesses. The wind Shu carries such news to all parts of Egypt. It is well known that pharaoh is not as he should be." Unnefer lowered his voice. "Many fear that one day soon the hawk will fly to the sun."
She let the priest wait for her reply. She gazed at one of the clay lamps while her fingers continued their slow dance across the fabric of the cloak. When she finally spoke, Unnefer started.
"Pharaoh is in excellent health. The wind distorts sound, Unnefer. Pay no attention to the howling it creates. Those foolish enough to do so imperil their own lives by rushing toward noises that don't exist. They sometimes run off cliffs and get themselves killed."
She got out of the house without doing violence to the priest. Her departure was abrupt, but it was better than murder. When the door shut, she stood with her back to it. Taking deep breaths, she waited for her wrath to ebb.
Ay touched her arm. "What did he say to you?"
Nefertiti heard her voice quiver as she whispered, "The whole purpose of that meeting, it wasn't restoration. It was to see how I would react to pharaoh's death."
Nefertiti stepped into the deserted and dark street. Sebek drifted ahead through the blackness.
"We could have them killed."
"No. We need them as much as they need us. Besides, if there's one thing being a queen has taught me, it's that knowing who your enemies are is an advantage beyond the riches of Punt."
"At least now we know," Ay said. "Pharaoh would kill the Amun priests, and they would kill him."
"By the netherworld, Father, how am I to bring the two together?"
"An excellent question, my child."
Nefertiti sighed, slipped her hand through her father's arm, and glanced back at the fisherman's house. "If I fail, I'll be the one who dies."
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