The Forgotten: Aten's Last Queen (41 page)

Funeral Procession of Pharaoh Tutankhamun

My throat tightened up, and my mouth felt drier than sand itself. What stood before me filled my belly with rage. I could not believe he would dare!

Ay stood before me. He wore the crown of Pharaoh.

My husband had yet to be set in his tomb and already Ay was seating himself on the throne.

I refused all politeness, my voice saturated with emotion, “Have you no respect for the dead? This is not your coronation!”

“My Queen, you have already pledged your allegiance for my kingship. What surprises you today?”

“Your hunger could not be sated until after my husband found rest? You wear his crown in front of his image! You will fill his heart with a heavy anger! Must you tip the scales for him as well?”

“I am merely assuring him that his people are well cared for so he can rest with ease.” Ay’s voice almost sounded melodic as he spoke down to me, but the tone was sour to my ears.

I could taste my disgust, and I spat it out onto the deck near his polished toenails. “How long have you been planning this? Since Smenkhkare’s death, perhaps since the cobra attack on me?”

Ay’s eyes flashed surprise for just a moment.

I continued, “I never let myself believe that you --”

“That is enough! You are a naïve little girl throwing out wild accusations. You have more allies than you realize. I know you think Suppiluliuma’s army could have protected you from me, but they would have murdered us all. I have fought them as had your late husband. They are our enemies. You need to have trust in your people.
We
are the ones who will keep you safe.”

A sudden image flashed in my mind. I staggered slightly when I realized what clue I had laid eyes on. I grabbed a passing servant for support. It was an image I had seen in Tutankhamen’s tomb.

My voice came out softly, shocked into near silence as I was. “I have seen this. This image. You with the crown. I thought it was Osiris at his Opening of the Mouth, but it was you! Before I even agreed to be your wife, you put your image in stone as pharaoh in my husband’s tomb!”

Ay stood silent. What else could he say without proving his guilt to me? Answers to my question would mean admitting what he had done.

In a blur of memories, it seemed to dawn on me. “All my life, you have manipulated me. You gave me hope and then snatched it away. You let me meet with Amyntas so you could catch him in the act with my letter to the Hittite king. Then you could force me to sacrifice myself.”

“To avoid any confusion,” Ay spoke up, “the Hittite prince never died. I merely let you think that. But you were persistent.”

Struck dumb, I uttered, “The prince lives?”

“For now. If he ventures here, he may find the path a treacherous one. The roads are being watched.”

“You build your kingship on lies. And then you tell me to trust you?”

A sailor walked up to Ay.

“Great One, the ships are ready.”

Ay nodded his head. “Thank you. Let the procession begin.”

I looked back to the city sitting nearly empty for the funeral. I wanted to run, cross the city, and find my daughter. For all I knew, Ay could have killed her already. Every word from his lips was poison.

The ships began to pull away. As they did so, the wailing of women began. Cries of anguish echoed around me as if my feelings had brought them forth.

I turned to face him again. His gaze had not left me.

“Why did you have to kill him? He trusted your counsel. Your wealth rivals that of my own. Why did you have to take his life? Was a crown that important to you?”

“Ahh, I was wondering when that question would come up. I could see it burning inside of you.”

He put his hands behind his back and began to pace in a circle around me. He wore the leopard sash of a high priest and a kilt that hung down to his ankles. The only hair on his body was that of his bushy eyebrows, which were slanted upward beneath my husband’s crown.

“On this I speak the truth. I did not kill him.”

“On this day, please, just answer my one question. I beg of you. I just need to know why?”

He looked straight into my eyes. “Queen, I had nothing to do with his death. I swear on Amun that his death was an accident.”

It felt as if a light encircled us. The pacing my grandfather had done around me divided us from the rest of the world. Everything else outside of our circle became black, as if snuffed out of existence. There was nothing but his words. Nothing else mattered but his words.

It was an accident?

I could not believe it.

Chapter Three

Because Good Has Come Back Into Existence

1331 B.C. – The Beautiful Feast of the Valley, 2
^nd
Shomu

We decided to hold the Feast of the Valley celebration while visiting Man-nefer. Usually, because of its strong history with Amun, this celebration was held in Waset. But not this year. For this celebration, which was held in honor of the deceased, we chose to stay by those buried at Saqqara. We would spend this celebration with them before we returned to the remains of the Akhenaten City during the last season of the year.

Thousands of flowers were gathered and strung into bouquets and garlands. Once our hands were filled with them, we made our way to the burial grounds. A troupe accompanied us as we left the palace. It followed us throughout the streets to Saqqara. In its tradition, the troupe was comprised of people singing, dancing, and filling the air with the vibrations of music. Sistras and tambourines shouted loudly to everyone in the city. Many citizens of Man-nefer also joined our procession so they too could leave offerings for their family members buried there. This would not be a celebration they would again see headed by their pharaoh and queen. We would be in Waset for those that followed.

The Aten was rising above the Great Stepped Tomb of Djoser. Sand had collected upon each mastaba, which necropolis workers were laboring to clear away. It was a marvel to look upon each day, this monument created by one of the earliest kings. It was almost 1000 years old now. My thoughts could not quite grasp how large the number was, I just knew that it was an unimaginable length of time! On either side of the Stepped Tomb, you could also see the Pyramids of Unas and of Userkaf. They were all in need of repair. Hopefully, we could re-glorify these mighty kings by helping restore their beautiful places of rest.

Many nobles were laid to rest at the Saqqara grounds, and it was not a barren land of rocks and sand like the pharaohs’ necropolis was. Tombs here were surrounded by courtyards. There were flowers and other greenery planted and kept fresh. Benches and small pools sometimes adorned the courtyards so when family members would stop to honor their dead, they could also rest peacefully by their ancestors’ sides for a while. Many people would picnic here or gather with family. The upkeep of these tombs was impressive, more so than some of the homes in the city itself. Offerings were given frequently, and there were always people here.

Citizens from our palace procession branched off and found where their loved ones lay. We continued on. Finally, we came to the rock-cut tombs that our family occupied. There were a few guards around the entries; Horemheb and Pa-ramessu were the only two I recognized. Tutankhaten went to Maia’s along with her son, Usermontu. I continued to where my mother and sister lay. Alone, I walked inside. As much of the necropolis had claims to its tombs already, my family shared the space. I did not think they would mind, though. They spent so much of their lives together. They had the same hopes and dreams. I felt as if they would continue to walk arm and arm even beyond this life encased in flesh.

Horemheb did us a great service by helping to find places to bury those we wished to honor. He was a true ally for us as we got used to this new land. The tombs he provided had ample space to them, and their grounds were manicured so that it was lovely and modest at the same time. We did not need to spend exorbitant amounts of money on their tombs when we had so many demands on our gold at present.

I stood at the head of their coffins. Their likenesses were painted on them, eyes forever open and watching the world. On each coffin, I laid a bouquet. Mayati, of course, had two on hers. One for her and one for my niece.

There was a plain bench inside the tomb by their feet. It was placed in a straight line from the entrance. I sat down on it. Light streamed in, pouring onto my face. I folded my legs beneath me. Leaning back on the tomb’s inner wall, I closed my eyes and listened.

I am not sure what I hoped to hear. Perhaps laughter. I had thought I had heard Meket’s months ago. Perhaps I was listening for prayer from the other tombs. Maybe I was waiting for the god, Adonai, to speak to me again. Could guidance be found in the belief of that which we cannot see? Could He hear me without a statue of His likeness to carry my words to the heavens? My dreams had been silent since seeing Moshe, and I was beginning to doubt I had even envisioned him.

I heard sand softly rustling. It was a small sound. My thoughts reasoned it to be passersby kicking up the ground with their feet.

But the hairs on my forearms began to rise, tickling me. I rubbed my hands over them, unsure of why I was having this feeling. Something in my body was trying to get my attention.

I opened my eyes and looked around, my movements slow. I could hear nothing, but now the back of my neck was prickling. It was a cold prickle that caused me to shiver.

I could see no one, hear nothing amiss.

I began to stand up, my feet touching the ground, and it was then that I heard a sharp hiss. Something struck my sandal.

I looked down. A cobra was attached to the front of my sandal, fangs dug into the leather. It had missed my toes by a hair’s width.

Fear overtook me, and I jumped up onto the bench, kicking my sandal off simultaneously. It unhinged its jaw, let go of my sandal, and lashed at me again. I screamed so ferociously that my throat felt ripped apart by it. The noise echoed in the small chamber. In response, the cobra lifted its head and opened its black-striped hood.

The underbelly was the whitest of colors I had ever seen. The rest of its body was rippled with brown and crossed with black bands. Its body seemed to glow under Aten’s rays. I could see millions of scales undulating as the creature moved closer to me. I felt certain this was a male, my thoughts instantly called it to mind, and I felt that he wanted to fill my body with his venom.

His eyes met with mine and were angry. At what, I knew not. He licked the air, tasting the fear that was pouring out from me. He was long and was preparing to strike again. He raised himself up.

Desperation clung to me. I needed to find higher ground. With all the strength my legs held taut with fear, I jumped onto my mother’s coffin. The cobra launched himself at me, trying to catch me in mid jump, but he again missed. Seeing it come at me as I jumped, I was sure it would finally catch hold of my leg. But something seemed to stop his flight. It was as if there was a wall between us. He slumped backwards like he had been brushed aside.

It hissed, and its echo seemed never ending. It was all I could hear. He stared up at me again, his gaze intense. His anger boiled as he reared his body up again.

I
was his purpose.
I
was his kill. He was not going to leave me alone. I knew that snakes could see, but this one seemed unnaturally focused to me. I feared a god was in possession of his body. Perhaps Seth stalked me.

Just then the light filling the tomb outlined a long shadow. As the king of all snakes turned towards the form that had engulfed Aten’s luminous glow, an arrow struck him just below his head. If snakes had necks, this would be where death had found him.

“My queen, did its venom touch you?”

It was the voice of Horemheb.

“No.” My voice shook.

“Are you sure? These types of snakes can spit their poison at its prey.”

All I could do was shake my head no at this point. My body tightened up, and I kept trying to squeeze myself together tighter and tighter, trying to grasp the whole of me and shelter it from this terror.

Tutankhaten ran into the room. He had a knife in his hand, and he struck at the cobra above where the arrow had found purchase. With a pop in the air, the head flew away from his body. Tutankhaten looked up at me sitting on the coffin and holding myself. I was shivering and could not stop.

Tutankhaten had a bow and quiver over his shoulder. I assumed he had confiscated it from a nearby guard. He stepped closer and took my hands within his. I could feel warmth from them. It coursed up my arms and helped dissipate the coldness that had me trembling. He looked into my eyes with passion.

“When I heard your scream, I thought you were lost to me,” he said quietly.

Guards had come in with him and were searching around the coffins. With relief, they said the snake had no others with him.

“We must be gone. This was no accident,” Pa-ramessu said.

“What do you mean?” Tutankhaten asked.

“I had guards check these tombs and clear out any dangers just moments before our arrival. Someone placed this in here after the queen entered, and after we had separated. We are no longer safe out in the open.”

Horemheb came up to the coffin and picked me up. He quickly carried me out. Others had gathered outside of the tomb. Their eyes did not look filled with concern, though. It was more likely their curiosity had brought them here to discover my fate.

A swarm of guards surrounded us, and we were rushed back to the palace. Anyone who came close to our protective circle was knocked aside. Only Horemheb was allowed inside. Pa-ramessu and Tutankhaten were at his heels in the formation.

I was not sure what overtook me, but as I was being carried, I closed my eyes and let my ka escape.

*****

The court buzzed with the news of the attempt on my life. Some wondered if it was meant for the king instead of me. Others suggested that someone felt threatened by my presence. A few guessed that the perpetrator wanted Tutankhaten without a consort to produce legitimate heirs with. I knew in my heart that it was someone who wanted my husband to him or herself. Someone who wanted to control him and his decisions. Someone who did not want me influencing the outcome of things to come.