The Forgotten: Aten's Last Queen (30 page)

Smenkhkare Hall rested at the end of Father’s coronation hall. It was not as decorated as Father’s hall, and it felt like a cursed place with so much death that surrounded its construction. I was always uncomfortable here. On each side, there were heavily pillared hallways. The central gathering area was sunken into the floor. So as one entered and washed their hands, they then stepped down into a square area filled with tables. The pillars were a forest here consisting of over 500 square structures, and the pillars encompassing the perimeter each had a garden dug in around them. Vines grew wildly up the stonework. Their wild behavior added beauty to the enclosure. It was one of the few items I appreciated around me.

Seated in the back, close to the edge of the sunken dining area, I saw him. His father was not present. He was with other workmen. As we met eyes, he got up and walked over to one of the pillars above the seating level. I followed.

As I came upon the tiny vine garden surrounding one of the pillars, I crouched down and began to pick petals off a flower.

“It has been too long,” he said softly, “and you look so beautiful.”

I smiled into the foliage to hide the flush on my face. “I have missed you. Your presence warms my heart greatly.”

“And yet, your letters have been distressing of late.”

“I am sorry that I have troubled you, but I have no one else to speak of these things.”

“I am grateful you speak of this, and you must remember that God loves you, even if you choose not to pray to Him.”

“How can He love me if He stands by and watches such destruction? All I ask for is peace for my people. Why has God not answered?” I pressed.

He too crouched and then sat on the back of his heels. No longer did he try to hide what we were doing. He looked fully at me with pain in his eyes. “It is man doing these things. Not God.”

“But He cursed my people under Moshe’s prayers. Why can’t He bring us prosperity with mine?” I held his gaze, my eyes unblinking as I awaited a response. I needed the world to make sense again.

“Maybe that is why you are here. Maybe it is you who are meant to save these people.”

I shook my head and looked away, “No. I don’t want that. Mother knows what is best. The people love her.”

“And I love you.”

My cheeks flushed. “I love you too.”

“Then that is all you need.” His smile was small but warm.

“But I cannot have you if I take that journey. I will never leave here. I will be forced to marry another. I do not think I can bear that again. You are all that I desire. Why must we be torn apart?”

He plopped down onto his buttocks and leaned his back against the pillar. I looked around the hall, but no one seemed to care.

“I wish I could answer that. Maybe I too would find some comfort if I knew. All I can do is trust that God directs my steps as He did for Moshe. I do not find myself worthy of His voice in my ear, but I still listen. The man you see in front of you, he makes mistakes. He seeks answers too.”

I sighed slowly. My breath shook the vines about my feet and knees. “Then I will continue to pray and hope that my heart finds the answers it needs.”

“Just know that the answers may not always be what you might be seeking. You might want one thing, but perhaps God knows something better for you. Don’t miss where He is trying to lead you. Don’t force it. Trust Him.”

A burst of laughter escaped me, but the singers’ voices drowned out the sound from reaching any farther than where we rested. “Trust is not something so freely given. I trust
you
.”

He smiled at me again and stood up, “Then let that be all you need. I’ll trust Him for both of us.”

He was about to walk back to his seat but turned. His eyes expressed pain as he spoke again, “I have had a servant bring something to your room. I… I just want you to know that my heart belongs to you, always, even if you find your affections to be misplaced.”

The sound of his voice rippled joy through my body, but his words left me confused. I stood and walked away slowly. I did not want to leave, so I did not meet his gaze for fear of it trapping me. All I wanted was to be surrounded by his arms, his breath warming my body, but I knew any more time there would draw suspicion. He risked his life speaking to me as it was. I feared endangering him further. I had to trust, that is what he had just spoken to me about. I let that thought calm my pounding heart.

I found my seat next to my sisters. Neferneferure and Setepenre loved watching the dancers. The voices surrounding them lifted into harmonies glorifying God. I closed my eyes and listened, hoping to awaken my love for Him. Yet I could only think of the people who would yet suffer under Pharaoh. What could I do to save them? My heart remained heavy.

“Where is Merytaten?” I heard Setepenre inquire, “And Mother, where are they? They do not sit with Uncle.”

I looked up and saw what she saw. “You are right, Penre, neither one is present. Nor is Grandfather Ay.”

“Where would they be?” Her eyes were large as they looked up at me. They were brown with flecks of green. Her face reminded me of Meketaten’s.

“They are probably preparing something for the festival,” I assured her, trying to sound as at ease as I could. “Pharaoh did say he had something planned for tonight.”

Tutankhaten appeared next to me. He sat down and placed his cane in between our seats. He had just turned 9 and was enjoying his growth spurt. Each day he seemed to stretch further and further up past me. His lips were fuller, and the chunk that seemed missing as a toddler had almost completely knit together. His cheekbones were more prominent as the baby fat began to remove its presence from him. His eyes were still large and bright. He no longer wore a youth lock. His head was shaved. He smiled at me when he caught my notice of him, but his smile was a little broader than normal.

“What are you up to, brother?” I asked, throwing him a suspicious glance.

“What?” he returned innocently.

“You give me a look that speaks of something secretive. There is mischief in your smile.”

He laughed quickly. “You are very perceptive! You should be the one who is great wife!”

I looked down at my plate as pain filled my heart. “I was once. It’s not what I want again.”

Tutankhaten seemed oblivious to my tone. He answered with fervor, “Well, I was told by Horemheb that he would like to enlist me in one of his battalion. I am to start training as a heroic archer!”

I smiled at his success. It was so long ago now that he had cried to be something more than his body allowed him to be. He was making possibilities for himself. His determination was always strong, and he was directing his sails through the currents which had before held him back. He had support and a family now.

“I’m very happy for you. I am sure Maia is proud and worried all at the same time.”

“You speak the truth. She is both happy and sad. It’s confusing. Why do girls have such conflicting emotions running around at once in their hearts? I can’t imagine feeling so many things at one time.”

This time it was my turn to laugh. “You will find the world is much more complicated than it looks. Even your own heart has more thought to it than you give it credit for! You will know the feeling one day.”

He scowled a little. “I do not need to know it. I will be a soldier.”

“Trust me, brother, when I was your age,
everything
changed for me.”

Food began to be piled on our table. My sisters eagerly fought to get the biggest piece of duck they could reach. Tutankhaten smiled at them, amused by their connection. They were closer than any of us had been before. I do not think you could spot one of them without the other. Their life was still innocent and carefree.

“Horemheb has been my answer to prayer. I never thought Aten listened to me before,” my brother said as he began eating.

“I’m glad He is listening.” I reached for some extra dates.

The singing stopped. Dancers and priests moved aside as Pharaoh stood at the head table. He had bands of leather wrapped around his chest in a pattern that branched out from the middle and swooped up around his shoulders as well as down around his rib line. The shape of each band on the pectoral was an oval, almost featherlike in form. From his waist down to the knees, there was a pleated flax garment with a belt at the top. The linen was colored with red stripes but was otherwise diaphanous. His belt was made of beaded leather, the leather dyed with yellow. The beads about it were clear blue. On his head rested the Pschent, its golden cobra poised and ready to strike us all.

“My heart sings, just like our priests, at the sight of all my followers. It pleases me that you can all share in this night with me. I have news to share about the safety of our streets. You see, it appears that my lovely wife has been plotting against me. She wished to take the crown from my head and place herself on my throne. Her mother has been a conspirator in this too.”

My heart stopped in an instant. I had never felt such cold grasp me before. It felt like fingers chilled in the Nile reaching up from the depths and into my body, stopping the rhythm in my chest. It was a squeeze which took all breath and movement inside of me. Everyone at our table sat as if they were made of stone. Even the usually fidgety Setepenre sat still. None of us could guess what would come next.

“They are right now being detained by my soldiers. They will be thrown in the jailhouse until their judgment from Aten can be undertaken. We are now safe from their plotting. For tonight, I ask that you enjoy this feast as we celebrate Osiris and his fabled return from the dead.” A chuckle escaped from him. I had an image pop into my thoughts of a jackal laughing as it devoured another’s flesh. “Baskets are filled to bursting outside with the finest foods and wine for you to take home and continue in your celebrations. This is a happy and prosperous time! Praise to Aten!” And he sat down.

The crowd around us clapped and cheered in response. It was almost deafening. I was about to burst from my chair and find Mayati, but as I turned, a guard was there blocking my exit. I was trapped. None of us would be allowed to show any sign of dissent to Pharaoh’s decision. We were now all involved in whatever he had planned. I had no idea what to do.

I could tell that Tutankhaten felt the same thing. Our look shared a deep worry. As I spotted my sisters, I could see they were on the verge of tears. An image flashed in my mind of me as a child, perhaps 4, as my mother held me. I was scared of something, and to calm my fears, she told me a story.

“My darlings, did Mother ever tell you the story of the ancient god Isis and her scorpions?”

They both shook their heads in a jerky, quick motion. They blinked continuously, trying to clear their vision to see me.

“Isis, wife to Osiris and mother to Horus, was known as a mistress of magic and spells. She fled the House of Seth to the marshes of Lower Kemet with Horus, still a small baby, at her side. With her came seven scorpions, and they guarded her. But she warned them not to look astray or attack children or defenseless persons or beasts.

“She came to the village where the papyrus marches began. She wanted to rest, but at the first house Isis stopped at, the woman was frightened by the sight of the scorpions and shut her door to Isis. The scorpions were made angry at this. When Isis was at rest at another house, the scorpions combined their powers and snuck into the first house. Possessing the strength of all seven, one of them stung the son of that first dwelling, and he became severely ill.

“His mother rushed from house to house trying to find a cure. Isis heard her pleas and went back to the house that had earlier turned her away. She drew out the poison by her hands and gave the child life once again. She proclaimed that as Horus lives for his mother, so too should the child in her arms, ill from the scorpion’s sting, live for his. From that day forward, Isis gave man the power to draw out the scorpion’s sting. For all people deserved forgiveness and kindness and love. And we can give this. That is to be our role as princesses. We act for Isis.”

Neferneferure’s tears were held back, but her voice carried more sadness than someone her age should have. “Will Mother be all right, then?”

“I don’t know, but I do know that you should trust that she will be all right. The gods offer us their forgiveness. Rest your heart. I will speak to Pharaoh about this.”

Neferneferure smiled slowly in reply. Then she took a bite of her duck. I looked up to where Pharaoh ate. His face was unlined. Worry did not seem to trouble him. I stood up and looked into the eyes of the guard behind me. He was a short man but wide with muscle.

“I request to speak with Pharaoh. Would you please escort me to his table?”

The guard nodded and led me over. Smenkhkare looked up me. He raised his eyebrows but gestured for me to sit next to him. His table was otherwise empty.

I sat and rested my hands in my lap. Once positioned, I looked down at the floor tiles as I spoke, trying to look as demure as possible. “Please share with me your plans for my family.”

“I believe my intentions were made clear earlier,” he said with bread in his mouth. Obviously my questions would not interrupt his feasting.

“I would like to beg for forgiveness. I assure you that my sister has no eyes for your crown. She only desires to be with Merytaten Tasherit. She is loyal to you.”

Pharaoh spit some excess grain from his mouth onto the floor. He looked at me straight on as I raised my glance to his face, peeking through my short eyelashes at him. “You have no idea what happens behind your back, little one. Go back to your table. I’m sure your brother could use some help walking back to his apartment. It’s a shame that the only male your father could sire was broken from birth.”

Anger bubbled up within me, but I kept it clenched in my hands as I continued, “Tutankhaten wishes to serve you in the army. It has been his dream since we were children. Please, let my sister and mother go. I pray for your mercy, mighty incarnate of Aten.”

Pharaoh smiled at my obvious compliment. “You are smooth with your words. You have some of your mother in you. I should pay closer attention to you, I think.”

Other books

The Lucifer Gospel by Paul Christopher
The Hanging Tree by Geraldine Evans
Undying by Azizi, Bernadette
Who I'm Not by Ted Staunton
The Dubious Hills by Pamela Dean
Passionate History by Libby Waterford
One Plus One by Kay Dee Royal
My Lord and Master by Whitlock, Victoria