“Your heart is treacherous. I didn’t sabotage Tut’s chariot. His death was the will of Amun. The Amun god has ordained me to be pharaoh of Egypt and I will take my rightful place on the throne. As for my daughter’s death, I warn you again, if you want to remain queen of Egypt, you will consent to our marriage and stop repeating absurd rumors.”
After Ay left her room, Senpaten rushed to her sister’s chamber, desperate for help and advice. When she reached Mayati she collapsed in her sister’s arms crying.
“Help me. I feel as if I’m alone. You have to help me, please,” she begged her.
Senpaten’s sudden distress frightened Mayati. She helped her to a chair and gave her a jar of water to drink.
“You’re not alone, my sister,” Mayati replied. “Tell me what happened.”
Senpaten told her of Ay’s visit, his despicable demands and his threats. She sobbed as everything poured out of her.
“I don’t want to marry my grandfather. He’s old and frightening,” Senpaten cried out.
“You don’t have to marry him,” consoled Mayati. “There has to be another way.”
“What other way? Allow him to remove me as queen and banish me from Egypt?”
Mayati paused. “What if somehow he was poisoned?”
Senpaten looked in Mayati’s eyes, stunned.
“No, Mayati. He’s still the father of our mother, and if we’re involved in his demise his mut spirit could return to curse us.”
“Not if our hands are clean of it. We could have a servant—
Senpaten cut her off. “Stop speaking about devious things. It is the dark way of the Amun god. Our parents were of the Aten, the god of the light.”
Mayati accepted what her sister told her and paused again to think. “Then if you don’t mind the idea of a marriage, there could be another way,” said Mayati.
Senpaten shook her head. “There aren’t any other ways.”
“Senpaten, you’re the queen, and just as Tut chose you, you can choose your husband.”
“A husband chooses his queen. The Amun priests will deny a queen to choose her husband.”
“They cannot deny nor challenge your right to choose if you took a husband from another land; a king or a prince,” said Mayati.
“Only male pharaohs marry foreigners. Never has an Egyptian queen done such a thing. I would be making a foreigner the king of Egypt.”
“Yes, it’s true, it has never happened,” replied Mayati. “But not because it’s unlawful. It’s only because an Egyptian queen has never lost her husband in death without an heir to replace him.”
Intrigued, Senpaten took her sister’s hand and looked her straight in the eye. “How do you know this?”
“I heard it from Aunt Mundi,” Mayati replied. “Her stepbrother is a royal scribe and talks to her often of Egypt’s laws in marriage. You have every right as queen of Egypt to marry a foreign king or prince as long as he is willing to come and reside here with you in our land. It is written law by the Oracle himself.”
Senpaten was suddenly hopeful. She knew of only one land that had a powerful enough king with sons. Tut had warned her about them when their general was captured and brought back to Egypt. It was the Hittite General Callum with the ‘kind eyes.’
“What about the Hittites?” asked Senpaten. “I’ve heard Tut speak of King Suppiluliumas and his sons—the three princes of Hatti, many times. Perhaps I can send a message to him asking for one in marriage.”
“The Hittites? They’re an enemy of Egypt,” replied Mayati.
“At times they were our ally. Tut told me that Egypt once had a peace treaty with King Suppiluliumas.”
“Are you sure?” asked Mayati.
Senpaten stroked Mayati’s hair as she contemplated their plan. “I am, but though it might be part of the law, there’s a chance if we’re caught, we’ll be charged with treason. Are you still willing to help me?”
Mayati nodded her head in agreement, and with the assistance of a scribe, they hastily etched a letter into a clay tablet and sent it to King Suppiluliumas by Egypt’s most discreet and courageous messenger: Hani.
Unbeknownst to Senpaten, her future and the future of Egypt was already being discussed in the Colonnade Hall, at the meeting of the royal court. Ay, General Horemheb, Kafrem, Sia, and seven of his Amun priests were deliberating on who would be the one to replace Queen Senpaten as pharaoh of Egypt.
“She is too young and weak to rule Upper and Lower Egypt,” said one of the Amun priests. “There needs to be a king chosen from among us. Our lector priest, Sia, is the wisest choice.”
“Sia has no royal blood,” Horemheb countered.
“Neither do you, general. Your convenient marriage to Nefertiti’s sister does not completely qualify you as royalty. I, however, have the support of every Amun priest, and the respect of the Egyptian citizens as a sound leader,” replied Sia.
“Indeed I have no royalty in my blood,” said Horemheb, “but there is no Egypt without the mighty Egyptian army.”
Horemheb’s response silenced the Amun priests. Kafrem turned to Ay for his opinion.
“You were a friend to all pharaohs, Ay. What is your recommendation on how to settle this?” asked Kafrem.
Ay’s plan was falling apart. He needed more time to fix it.
“It is written not to rush an important decision, but to give it seventy-five days to ponder,” said Ay. “We’ll return here after that time period and make the decision.”
CHAPTER
37
THREE WEEKS into his journey, Senpaten’s messenger, Hani, set foot on Hittite land. He was greeted instantly by a show of swords and drawn bows from one of King Suppiluliumas’s regiments who then shackled him and brought him to the king’s son, Prince Zenanza, near the outskirts of their capital city of Hattusas. At twenty-three years of age, the Hittite prince had grown into an ambitious young man, eager to prove to his father that he could be as emphatic and imperious as his three older brothers, Prince Telipinus, Prince Mursili II, and Prince Piyassilis.
Zenanza approached the Egyptian messenger intent on torturing him into submission.
“Before we cut you open, I’ll give you a chance to tell me why you came to our country. Were you sent as a spy for your pharaoh?” asked Zenanza.
“Our pharaoh is dead. I came to deliver a letter to King Suppiluliumas from our queen, Senpaten. The clay tablet is in the sack your guard seized from me,” said Hani.
The guard handed Hani’s sack to Zenanza. He opened it and retrieved the tablet inscribed with Senpaten’s letter to King Suppiluliumas. Zenanza was inclined to brush it aside as a hoax until he saw the familiar seal of Egyptian royalty at the bottom.
“You say your pharaoh is dead? Then why have we not heard of it?” asked Zenanza.
“The pharaoh died only recently and unexpectedly. It’s urgent that your father read what the queen has to say. Please, my lord.”
There was true sincerity in Hani’s plea and Zenanza ordered the guards to release him from his shackles. The prince personally escorted the messenger into the Hatti palace and after finding Berbalis—King Suppiluliumas’s personal steward and chamberlain, they walked directly to his father’s chamber.
Inside, King Suppiluliumas was speaking privately with his wife, Tawanna. He was silenced at the sight of his son and the visitor.
“Who is this foreigner that you bring to my chamber unshackled?” asked Suppiluliumas, irritated by the interruption.
“Father, this is Hani, the messenger of Queen Senpaten of Egypt. He has brought with him a letter she has written to you. Berbalis can decipher it if you’re willing to hear it,” said Zenanza.
“And how do you know this man is not a liar and his letter a hoax?”
Berbalis stepped forward. “Because I have confirmed the authenticity of the letter myself, my lord,” he replied.
“Examine the seal, Father,” added Zenanza. “You’ll see it’s of genuine Egyptian royalty.”
Despi
te his hard expression, Suppiluliumas was impressed by his son’s assertiveness. He took the tablet and examined the seal closely.
“It does appear to be of Egyptian royalty,” said Suppiluliumas, handing it back to Berbalis. “Go ahead, read it to me.”
The chamberlain deciphered Senpaten’s entire letter silently to himself before he repeated it out loud to the king:
5My husband has died, and I have no son. Never will I take a servant of mine and make him my husband! I have written to no other kingdom. Only to you have I written. They say your sons are many, so I ask for you to give me one son of yours. To me he will be my husband, but in Egypt he will be king. Please send him quickly, I am afraid!
“The letter is signed and sealed by Senpaten, queen of Egypt, my lord,” said Berbalis.
“I have seen nothing like this in my entire life,” replied Suppiluliumas, scratching his head. “It’s certainly a trick to hold a Hittite prince hostage in Egypt when in fact there is an heir for your pharaoh,” he said glaring at the Egyptian messenger, Hani. “You Egyptians think we’re mindless brutes, don’t you?”
“My lord, if the queen had a son from the pharaoh, would I have risked coming here to Hatti? Our pharaoh, Tut, has died unexpectedly without an heir. This is our country’s shame, but our queen needs a husband and Egypt a king.”
Suppiluliumas laughed. “Even if I believed such nonsense, I would never allow a son of mine to take such a foolish risk.”
Moved by the urgency and innocence of Senpaten’s letter, Zenanza stepped forward.
“I want to go, Father. Let me travel to Egypt to marry the queen.”
Tawanna sprang up from her seat. “No!” she shouted. “They’ll kill you!”
“Mother, I’m not a child, nor am I afraid. Berbalis has confirmed the letter’s authenticity. The Egyptian queen is frightened and needs a husband. Who is more qualified to travel there than me? I am a prince and I’m unmarried.”
“It’s true, my lady. Queen Senpaten is as young in age as Prince Zenanza. They would appear to be compatible,” said Hani.
“No,” said Suppiluliumas. “It’s surely a trap.”
“It’s not a trap. It’s the truth my lord. I’m happy with my life, I would not risk it for a hoax,” Hani countered.
Prince Mursili, who so far had remained silent, scoffed at Hani’s justification. “Father, even if Zenanza was allowed to marry the Egyptian queen, my brother is unproven and much too young to lead such a magnanimous country as Egypt.”
“You, Mursili, were not much older when you were appointed king and sent away to a distant land to rule. You know nothing about my capabilities,” said Zenanza.
Tawanna shed her pride and kneeled in front of her husband, hoping it would garner his compassion.
“You have many sons from your mistresses, my blessed husband, but Zenanza is my only son. Please, don’t allow him to risk his life for the Egyptians. They can’t be trusted,” she pleaded.
King Suppiluliumas gazed into his wife’s eyes. The despair of her plea made it a grueling decision that Zenanza perceived was working in his mother’s favor.
“Father, you have appointed my brothers Telipinus king of Halab and Piyassilis king of Carchemish and no harm has ever come to them. Mother is overreacting. Please, let me travel to Egypt and marry the Egyptian queen so that I will be a king in my own kingdom of Egypt,” said Zenanza. “Allow me to have the equal respect that you give my brothers. I deserve no less.”
Before King Suppiluliumas could answer his son, Hani offered his own final plea to the king.
“My lord, remember how your Storm-god endorsed a peace treaty between your country and our country of Egypt. This could be a new chance at everlasting peace between Hatti and Egypt with your son Zenanza as our pharaoh,” said Hani.
The thought of his son ruling the Egyptian empire was too tempting for King Suppiluliumas to ignore. To his wife’s dismay he gave in to his own ambitions.
“As the Storm-god endorsed the treaty between our countries, we will continue to be friendly with Egypt,” replied Suppiluliumas. “You have my blessing, Zenanza. Go and marry the Egyptian queen.”
Tears swelling in her eyes, Tawanna rose to her feet and stormed out of the room. King Suppiluliumas turned away from his momentary concern for her and embraced his son. “I’ll have the best of my army shadow your convoy,” he said.
“No, Father,” replied Zenanza. “If the Egyptians see an obvious army of Hittites, they’ll assume it’s for war. I’ll travel only with my convoy so they’ll know I have come to them in peace.”
Zenanza’s confidence impressed King Suppiluliumas. It made it easier for him to ignore his paternal instincts to protect his son.
“As you wish, but my chamberlain Berbalis will accompany you on your journey,” replied Suppiluliumas.
“May the next words you hear from me Father, be that the queen has accepted me as her husband and that I am the new king of Egypt.”
Zenanza left his father’s chamber and hurried to prepare a convoy for his journey while Hani was given food supplies and sent out ahead of the prince to alert Queen Senpaten.
CHAPTER
38
SENPATEN AND MAYATI spent most of their days playing Senet while they waited for Hani to return with a response from the Hittite king or possibly a husband for Senpaten. Thirty-eight days and nights had passed and she still had no word from King Suppiluliumas on whether he would allow one of his sons to journey to Egypt in order to marry her.
“Do you think a Hittite prince will really come? Or does a widowed queen bring shame to everyone she encounters?” asked Senpaten.
“My sister, you are an Egyptian queen and as beautiful as a lotus blossom,” replied Mayati. “A prince from any kingdom would be enamored by you.”
“Then why hasn’t he come?”
“Be patient. He’s traveling from a faraway land and it’s possible their horses are not as fast and capable as the ones born and bred here in Egypt.”
Mayati’s speculation gave Senpaten a reason to be optimistic, and she smiled lovingly at her sister for being a source of light in her time of despair.
“The Aten will give you the husband you desire,” said Mayati. “Don’t worry, sleep now and I’ll return at dawn to finish our game.”
When Mayati stepped out of Senpaten’s chamber, someone reached out and grabbed her by the arm. Her heart beat rapidly at the sight of her grandfather, Ay. She tried to pull away, but his grip was unrelenting as he yanked her out further into the palace corridor.
“What prince is coming?” he asked. “And what faraway land is he traveling from?”
Mayati was terrified. Ay must have secretly hid behind the entrance of Senpaten’s chamber and eavesdropped on their conversation. He frightened Mayati speechless.
“Either you’ll tell me what prince is coming to marry her, or I’ll report Senpaten to the Amun priests as a follower of the Aten god and one who is treasonous of her country. She’ll most certainly be banished from Egypt, if not executed,” said Ay.
There was no way out. Mayati told her grandfather everything she knew.
Ay released her arm and left the palace for Horemheb’s quarters.
The general would be appalled at the possibility of a Hittite claiming the right to rule Egypt and Ay was meticulous in choosing the words that would manipulate him into doing his bidding.
“Will you allow this Hittite prince to come upon Egyptian soil to marry our queen and take your place as the next pharaoh? Or will you cut him off at our border before he enters and becomes king himself?” Ay asked Horemheb.
Ay waited for Horemheb’s response and was delighted to see the general burning with fury at the mention of a Hittite coming to Egypt to marry the queen. “There will never be a Hittite king of Egypt!” shouted Horemheb. “Never!”
After leaving Horemheb, Ay made it his priority to return to Senpaten’s chamber to scold her. When he entered, again unannounced, he found her fastening her hair w
ith jewels and rubbing herself down with sweet perfumes.
“Are you preparing yourself for me?” asked Ay.
Without turning to face him, she answered, “I’m not preparing for anyone. Is there any time of day or night that I can have privacy in my own chamber?”
“I’ll grant you your privacy, but it ends when we unite in marriage at the end of ten days.”
“I would rather relinquish my right to rule as queen than marry you.”
“This arrogance is unbecoming of you, granddaughter. I suppose you think such behavior will be attractive to your Hittite prince,” said Ay.
Senpaten stopped rubbing her skin, stood up, and faced Ay. It brought him immense satisfaction to see the dread in her eyes.
“Either you’ll agree to marry me,” said Ay, “or I’ll expose your sister, Mayati, for her involvement in your scheme to deliver Egypt into the hands of our enemy, the Hittites. And you can be assured her banishment to a foreign land will be immediate and you will never see her again.”
Senpaten trembled with fear as Ay turned to leave but stopped once more at the door of her chamber.
“And, as for your Hittite prince, General Horemheb is on his way to meet him. He’ll be dead before he reaches our border.”
Prince Zenanza and his convoy of seven men had reached the Ugarit Valley on their route to Egypt. Two covered chariots loaded with silver and gifts of cattle and sheep were attached to the rear with ropes. Berbalis, his father’s chamberlain, directed their path as they traveled side-by-side on horseback.
“You seem convinced they’ll welcome us. Do you fear at all what the Egyptians might do to us once we arrive?” asked Berbalis.
“What I fear is that Queen Senpaten may be in danger. The desperation in her letter worries me,” replied Zenanza. “And look at us. We’re moving much slower because of our gifts.”
“If you’re crowned king of Egypt, you’ll be greater than all three of your brothers combined, and your kingdom grander than anything your father ever conquered. He would be indebted to you,” said Berbalis.
VALLEY OF THE KINGS: The 18th Dynasty Page 31
