The Forgotten: Aten's Last Queen (14 page)

“It is not because of him. It is because of his God,” Tia whispered to me.

“But surely his God is our God! He is of my father’s house,” I replied equally quietly.

“No, he was not of our people.”

Just then, a couple of guests came out of the hall and walked by us. Tia physically tensed up as they passed. When they were out of earshot, she again whispered to me, “I will speak of this to you later. Please do not say anything more where others could hear you.” She then rushed back into the banquet hall, and I lost track of her in the mess of people.

Her reaction was startling. Not only had this brother frightened my family but also the commoners of the land. What was it about him that everyone in the Black Lands seemed to quiver at a simple suggestion?

My stomach began to rumble at the smell of food. As my thoughts mulled, I walked back to my seat. Marahkaten was still there. As I took a seat, she leaned over to me.

“I’m so glad you’re back. Our father is about to make an announcement once the servants refill his cup,” she said anxiously, but it was an anxiousness that was also laced with excitement.

It didn’t take long. I was only a few bites into my plate, filled with now-cold food, when father stood up and stole everyone’s attention. He had a smile on his face and outstretched his hands, encompassing everyone seated in his grand hall.

“Thank you, my beloved followers of the one true God. We are honored to welcome Queen Mother Tiya to our home! I know she will bless us here as she blessed my father for so many years before. Let us show her the love we all share in this new capital of Kemet, children of Aten!”

The hall cheered as if from one deep voice.

“I would also like to share with you that on this journey she has brought my oldest sister’s son. Praise her name, my beloved sister Sitamun. And so, it is with great joy that I would like to inform you all, my people, my honored guests who dine with us tonight in celebration, that this sister-son will be married to my lovely daughter, Merytaten, and will be co-regent with me. In this glorious city devoted to our God, he will one day be crowned as Pharaoh! Welcome to our halls, the great Smenkhkare.” He shouted. There was cheering from the crowd as Merytaten’s future husband stepped into the hall from the back entrance.

“I present to you Smenkhkare, future ruler of this city and Pharaoh of our lands!”

Smenkhkare began to walk over to Father as the people clamored and praised his name. He looked so much like Akhenaten that they could have been twins. His body’s outline was not as curved as Father’s, but he was unusually tall and had the long face that my father possessed. His nose, lips, and hands all resembled that of Akhenaten.

There were subtle differences, though. Smenkhkare’s eyes were gray in color, and the left one was not focused straight ahead. Its lid had a slight droop over the eye. Otherwise, he looked like he had spent much time on training grounds riding horses and chariots. His body was muscled like a soldier’s. His skin was darkened from extended time outside. He walked with a barely perceptible limp, and I noticed that his toes resembled my brother’s in that the middle toes were shorter than the rest. One of his feet was also slighted pointed inward.

Looking up at the Pharaoh’s table, I noticed that Merytaten was fiddling with her hair. I wondered what her thoughts were on this marriage. I also noticed that mother was now missing from her seat. I was slightly frightened by her absence. Swallowing my fear, I watched as Smenkhkare stood on the right side next to Pharaoh.

“May the glory of Aten reign through eternity!” Father raised his cup and shouted, “To Aten!”

The crowd responded with a deafening cheer for the god. Then great gulps of wine and beer were consumed. The music players began a rousing melody, and dancers came out from the sides of the hall and began to flow around the tables again. Their bodies moved like that of a snake, curved and slithering through the notes of the song. They entranced the men as they undulated around them, their bodies near naked and their faces heavily painted.

A new chapter had begun. Smenkhkare would take the throne instead of Tutankhaten. I thought of how as years passed, he would continue be pushed to the side, maybe even murdered as a threat to the throne. I would also never marry outside of our family lest rivalry begin between the houses. Our theology’s image would remain in a more physically acceptable form. A sister’s son would take the mantle and rule as Akhenaten had ruled before him. Meanwhile, the rest of us would sit wondering where we fit into this new kingdom, hopeful that we would not be forgotten. Or maybe hopeful that we would be.

May They Have No Power Over Me
1322 B.C
.

The caravan with Pharaoh’s body was spotted a day’s ride north of the city. They would arrive shortly. I had hoped to hear something from my second letter in the waning days of the season, but I had yet to receive any word.

I decided to visit the tomb that would house my husband. Our daughters were already inside. This was supposed to be their place and not one ever meant to house a pharaoh. But it was the only space that would be ready in time for the royal burial. It was the only place a sarcophagus would fit.

I crossed the Nile to the western bank where the workmen were hastily preparing for Pharaoh’s arrival. The afternoon was so hot that it felt like the light itself was trying to push those who dared step outside down onto their knees. Perhaps Ra was starving for attention and worship. Stepping into the shade hiding within the tomb’s entrance, I felt oddly reassured as the hands of the god release me.

Walking in, I realized how truly small the tomb was. Only the burial chamber was to be decorated. The rest would remain bare. There was just no time. It was a shame his final resting place would be one so forgettable. Would the gods be offended by this pathetic offering? Would they even let him pass the borders into the Afterlife?

Inside, there were bronze mirrors set up to reflect light into the furthest recesses of the tomb, rooms sheltered from Ra’s eye. Young boys moved about rapidly removing rubble, refilling the workmen’s water, or replacing broken chisels. They all kept their eyes away from me and gave me a wide berth. That is, as wide as you could in such cramped quarters.

Commoners had better homes than this, and this was supposed to be my husband’s immortality? After all he had done? My stomach soured at the sight. Perhaps I had hoped the workmen would perform a miracle and create something grand for him. Instead, all I saw were the pathetic rumblings of mankind scratching against the earth. There was haste in the workmen’s eyes, but there was no emotion. They didn’t care. They just wanted to get the work done.

On the west wall of his burial chamber, there were scenes being painted of the first hour of Amduat, a time when Pharaoh would enter the western horizon, the transition between day and night. He would begin his journey to the Underworld at that point. I prayed he would find his way and rise again as the new sun. I would be watching the East after his tomb was sealed.

The north wall was being painted with Pharaoh standing before Nut, the goddess of the skies and the ladder used by Osiris to enter her heavenly skies. It also pictured my husband’s ka embracing Osiris, the oldest of Nut’s children, and being welcomed into the Afterlife.

The east wall was largely unfinished. There was a space to illustrate the Opening of the Mouth ritual on Tutankhamun’s mummy. It would also be colored with scenes of his funeral procession. I could see faint sketches on the wall. Outlined so far was his coffin upright before someone wearing the crown of Pharaoh. From my studies with Mutbenret, I knew that traditionally this was Osiris. The scene was just beginning to be chiseled into the stone, but the majority was still being drawn out.

On the south wall, the king was to be pictured standing before Hathor followed closely by Anubis. There was also a scene of my king being welcomed into the Underworld by Hathor, Anubis, and Isis. My feelings allowed room for joy amidst the disappointment and anger. I knew that his heart would weigh favorably. These images
would
come true. Aten would give him eternal life, let him live among His angels, find peace. Then he could meet our daughters. Maybe he would tell them about me. There was hope… I had at least this belief to guide me forward.

Our children rested in a side room. It was to the right of where the sarcophagus would lay. Eternally, they would be protected by their father in this small space. No one would be able to slip around the sarcophagus into this room. I knew Tutankhamun would like that.

Our daughters lay side by side inside one wooden chest, eternally close as sisters should be. The chest was sparsely adorned. The lid, tied in place, was fastened with the royal necropolis seal of the jackal and nine captives. In the chest, my babies were each resting inside their own coffins, and each one was painted using black resin with protruding gilded bands of inscriptions over the top. The lids of these coffins were attached to the bases using eight flat wooden tenon joints. Bands of linen were next tied around the coffins beneath the painted images of their chins, waists, and ankles. Finally, applied to each of the bands was a clay seal, again with the impression of the jackal and nine captives. I remembered them being placed in their coffins. Every detail of these coffins was sharp in my memory’s eye. As I stood before this chest, I felt so lonely. Here I was, my heart beating slowly, standing in a stone room surrounded by lifeless pieces of my marriage. The piece of my life that I held within me felt small. How many pieces could you give away before there was nothing left? And soon this piece would be all shut away from me. My entire reason for living would be cut off from me, eaten up by the enfolding darkness, and forgotten.

Was this the culmination of my life? All my hard work and sacrifice lay here. Dead… dead things with nothing left to give to the world. Shut up tightly where only the hauntings of memories were allowed to roam.

Looking around a last time, sweeping the room with my eyes, absorbing everything I would never see again, I noticed something was absent. I felt like my bones turned into dough as I realized that it was not just something but some
things
were missing. There were items I had picked out to accompany my husband into his Afterlife. I wanted to place them here before the bustle surrounding his funeral took possession of the time and conquered it, leaving me nothing but fleeting images of what had once been. There would be so much going on that day. I was having something new made for him to place inside on the funeral’s day, but the other items I wanted him to have were not here.

Fear crept up my body because I knew what this meant… and the person behind this was probably the one who was most aligned for grabbing my husband’s double crown.

I had to talk to Maya, who was busy organizing the work crews outside. I walked briskly back outside, but after standing in the coolness of the tomb, the heat outside was like a slap to my face. Ra had spotted me as I emerged from my hiding place. My eyes and skin burned as I walked out to Maya, overseer of my husband’s tomb and of Pharaoh’s treasury.

“Where are the items I requested buried with my husband?” I demanded.

Maya looked at me uncomfortably and said, “I was ordered not to place them in the tomb. You are to be re-married, and it is unfit for items of yours to be buried in a tomb when your husband is alive and well.”

My mouth and throat went dry. My heart seemed to stop.

“I am still Great Wife and Chief Overseer of the lands.”

Maya bowed deeply to me, unable to look me in the eye. “I’m sorry, Queen, but the orders came from him who Pharaoh left in charge before he left for battle. He says that in your best interest, esteemed Ay will make further decisions for you. Ay is planning for your future and has said that from now on, his word is law. Until the new ruler is crowned, of course.”

Maya’s voice was now pleading with me. He wanted me to understand, “He fears that your anguish is too great right now to make proper decisions.”

I wanted to faint. This is what I had feared all along. Ay was plotting against me to put himself on the throne. He knew that the people would never accept the double crown atop my head, and I did not want it. I just wanted my family to be remembered. It is why I needed a response from the Hittites. At present, Horemheb was too far away to make his play for Pharaoh’s seat. Ay knew this all too well, and he was moving fast.

“Thank you, Maya, you are doing as ordered, as any loyal patron would. I will speak with Ay about this myself.” I turned around and went back to my boat. It was small with only two oars to push it along. A square sail hung quietly overhead. I sat down and signaled that I was ready to head back to the palace quay.

There was much I had to do.

As the boat glided along the river, I felt suddenly peaceful. Breezes scooped up the Nile’s crisp touch, cupped it in its sweeping fingers, and shared the coolness with all those traveling its depths this afternoon. The heat of the day washed away from me.

I sighed at the sweet gift of the Nile.

Chapter Five

Everyone Beholdeth Thee Before Him

1337 B.C.

The revelry was short lived. Father swiftly threw down sharp punishment against the people of his city for the discovery of the idols. He demanded complete devotion to Aten, and no doubt was allowed. The women were spared, but their children were not.

For the girls, all their possessions were seized. They were allowed no decorations or ornaments in their rooms. Anyone suspected of concealing an idol was publicly subjected to five lashes. There were screams and wailings heard throughout the day.

The young males were forced to work on a new building project. It was a hall to be erected in honor of Smenkhkare. Boys and budding men were forced to mine and dig under the hottest temperatures and carry staggeringly heavy loads to the new work site.

These types of projects were usually taken on by skilled workers who were paid for their services. Instead, our youth were treated like slaves. They were served water and hard lumps of bread and were sometimes treated with the whip if they acted like they still had the right to choose.