The Amarnan Kings, Book 2: Scarab - Smenkhkare

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The Amarnan Kings, Book 2: Scarab - Smenkhkare Page 3

by Overton, Max


  "I've got to find out where all this starts, first," Dani said with a smile.

  "Already done, Dr Hanser." Daffyd pointed to the wall just to the right of the entrance way. "While you were taking photos I was looking for the beginning."

  "Well then, I suppose I'd better start." Dani stretched and looked around at the eager faces of her graduate students. She giggled. "You all look like a bunch of kindergarten kids at story time." Crossing to the wall she examined the script, running her fingers down the columns of hieroglyphs before scanning portions on either side of the door and at a couple of other places on the wall. "Yes, you're right, Daffyd. I'd say this is where it starts." Turning back to the group, she smiled. "Are you all sitting comfortably? Then I'll begin." Dani examined the wall again and took a deep breath.

  ***

  "I am glad to be back in Waset," she read. "It is a city that is full of history and of the gods of our ancient land. The city of Akhet-Aten is new and clean but it is empty, being dedicated to a god that speaks only to the king and offers little to anyone else. Here in Waset, the disc of the sun seems less remote and people can worship it through the old familiar forms of Re and Khepri.

  The three years that elapsed between the accession of my brother Smenkhkare and the end of Akhenaten's reign were probably the most peaceful years for Kemet since the death of my father Nebmaetre and for twenty years to come. The people loved Smenkhkare and he achieved a good working relationship with the priests of Amun at Waset, despite the worship of all gods other than the Aten still being proscribed. Akhenaten stayed in his capital city and left the running of the country to Smenkhkare and Ay, the co-regent and the Tjaty. This arrangement was not always amicable as the two men of Waset were strong-willed..."

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  * * *

  Chapter One

  The young man brushed past the guards and walked into the upstairs antechamber of the king's apartments, tossing the double crown representing the two kingdoms that made up the land of Kemet, onto a great gilded ebony chair. He stretched and yawned, pushing his shoulders back with a grimace before pouring a cup of wine from the chilled pitcher on an inlaid ebony table and carrying it over to the great window overlooking the royal gardens. Clad in a fine white linen kilt and sandals, he leaned casually on the marble-lined balustrade, only the muscles in his broad back betraying his tension.

  An older man followed him into the room, moving quietly. The man, likewise clad in white kilt and sandals, also displayed several items of jewelry and badges of office. A broad heavy gold chain hung about his neck and armbands of gold revealed his power and wealth. Short and stocky, the older man's skin was creased and displayed the signs of incipient old age, hanging in wrinkles as his body lost its muscle tone. A shock of white hair topped his head, and his hands which hung by his sides, trembled slightly, matching an intermittent tremor below his left eye.

  "The temple of the Aten in Hazor has been burned to the ground and the priests slaughtered."

  "Why am I just hearing this now, Ay?" The young man did not look round but sipped at his wine, looking out at the heat-rippled air above the city. The heavy odors of dust and the effluvia of crowded humanity wafted up from streets and alleys.

  "I only received the news yesterday."

  "Then why did you not raise this issue at the morning audience?"

  The young man, King Ankhkheperure Djeserkheperu Smenkhkare, co-regent and Lord of the Two Lands excepting only the City of Aten turned from the window of his apartments in the old Waset Palace to stare at his Tjaty and great-uncle, Ay. Although only of middling height, perhaps three cubits and two palms tall, the young king stamped his presence on any room. Still young, rising nineteen years, Smenkhkare had all but ruled Kemet these last three years after coming to the throne at the behest of his half-brother Akhenaten, called by many the Heretic King. Smenkhkare was unaware that Ay had engineered his co-regency, in the hopes of maintaining his failing grip on the power of the king.

  Akhenaten had himself inherited the Two Kingdoms seventeen years before from his father Nebmaetre Amenhotep, when the old king fell victim to a stroke from the gods which rendered him a dribbling cripple, unable to walk or talk, incapable of ruling Kemet. His queen, Tiye, with advice from her brother Ay, had ruled for six months before giving in and enthroning her son Waenre Amenhotep as co-regent. The young king took over the reins of Kemet at the height of its power, with a full treasury and an experienced army. With resolute ministers and experienced generals even a young, untried king could do little damage to Kemet's strength and reputation; but the young Waenre Amenhotep was also a religious fanatic.

  Raised in Zarw in the Delta region, Waenre Amenhotep's early life was spent among his mother's people, the Khabiru. His mother Tiye was the daughter of Yuya, a prophet of the Khabiru who had arrived in Kemet in the time of the old king's father Tuthmosis. Prophesying of famine and harvests, and interpreting dreams, Yuya became powerful in the king's court, eventually being appointed Tjaty. He had three children, Tiye, Ay and Aanen. The Khabiru, a tribe of wanderers from the north, worshipped a strange god, one who had no form, yet whose face shone with the brilliance of the sun. This god had no name but in the Khabiru tongue was addressed as 'El' which meant 'god' and as 'Adon' which meant 'Lord'. By a twist of fate the word 'Adon' is pronounced 'Aten' in Kemetu, and two generations of Kemetu kings had gradually raised the Kemetu god Aten, a minor aspect of the sun god Re, to the status of a major deity. The young Waenre Amenhotep went further. First he changed his name to Akhenaten or 'servant of the Aten' to honour his god, then he moved his capital city from Waset, the City of the god Amun, to a new city dedicated to the sun god, Akhet-Aten or 'the Horizon of the Aten'. Not content with raising his god to this level, Akhenaten decreed heresy. He ruled that all other gods were false and that their temples were to close, their worship to cease. Amun especially was singled out, his treasury confiscated, his lands sold and the very name of the god was chiseled off monuments and expunged from the records, even where it occurred in his dead father's name. For this sacrilege he earned the undying enmity of the priests of Amun, of which his own uncle Aanen was Second Prophet.

  Wrapped up in his religious fervor, Akhenaten channeled gold from the temples and the state treasury into building rich new temples dedicated to Aten. Not understanding the delicate balance, or Ma'at, that governed Kemet, he pardoned all criminals, releasing hordes of murderers and thieves; and stripped the army of its strength, fostering rebellion and warfare amongst Kemet's vassal states and enemies.

  Then plague struck the Two Lands. Three of Akhenaten's daughters by his beautiful young wife, Queen Nefertiti died, and the king was suddenly brought face to face with his own mortality and the extinction of his family line. He had no sons to become king after him, so in desperation he followed the example of his father.

  Nebmaetre Amenhotep had married his own daughters Sitamen and Iset, fathering sons on them: Smenkhkare and Tutankhaten. Akhenaten decided to do the same in the hope of similarly fathering sons. First he married his eldest daughter Meryetaten. This act estranged Nefertiti, leading her into an act of rebellion which was quickly put down by Paatenemheb, General of all the Armies. Nefertiti was banished but the other rebel, Ay, Nefertiti's own father, managed to clear himself of the charges, and keep his position as Tjaty. Meryetaten became wife and queen but the hope of sons died quickly. She gave birth to a baby daughter and Akhenaten, husband and father, put her away and married his next oldest daughter Ankhesenpaaten. She too, produced a daughter and was eventually put aside.

  The deposed daughter-queen Meryetaten proved an embarrassment at court, refusing to accept her new status and Akhenaten sent her up-river to Waset to marry his co-ruler Smenkhkare. Neither party desired this union but they accepted it for the sake of Kemet's peace. The marriage was never consummated and the king and queen maintained separate apartments within the palace.

  Ay, though technically Tjaty to king Akhenaten, rapidly saw that the real powe
r in Kemet was to be found in the court at Waset. He moved south using the pretext of guiding the new co-regent Smenkhkare, whereas his real reason was to rule Kemet through the young inexperienced man. Here, Ay made one of his rare errors of judgment. Smenkhkare may have been young and inexperienced but he was highly intelligent, possessed a will of hardened bronze and had firm views about how Kemet should be ruled. He allowed himself to be guided by his great-uncle Ay but always questioned his advice, never allowing him the freedom he desired. Increasingly, Ay became discontented with his situation and started to look for ways to work around the king.

  Ay shrugged at his nephew's question, though he knew the easy familiarity encouraged by Akhenaten was frowned on by Smenkhkare. "I regarded the matter of little importance."

  Smenkhkare stood silently, staring at his Tjaty, waiting. After a few moments, Ay reluctantly added the honorific, "Your majesty."

  "Remember who is king here, Ay. I will not have my commands questioned or my wishes ignored by anyone. Even you."

  Ay hid a scowl by bowing. "Of course, your majesty. Forgive me."

  "So tell me about this act of violence in Hazor."

  "There is not much to add, my lord. I received a letter from the governor of Hazor telling me that a mob torched the Aten temple and killed the priests. He acted immediately, of course, and hanged the ringleaders."

  "A mob from within Hazor? Not a foreign army?"

  "Apparently not. The ringleaders were put to the question but could reveal only that gold was paid, by persons unknown."

  Smenkhkare raised the cup to his lips and sipped the strong wine, looking at the older man over the rim. He swallowed and lowered the cup. "And why did you think this news was not important, Ay?"

  The Tjaty shrugged again, ignoring the muscles that clenched on the king's jaw in response to his renewed disrespect. "It was only a temple to the Aten. It is time that heresy was put to rest."

  The king frowned. "You were an ardent supporter of the Aten not so long ago. A priest in fact. Have your beliefs undergone such a radical change? I would question your motivation."

  "I was father to the queen and uncle to Waenre Akhenaten. I could not do otherwise." Ay pursed his lips before continuing. "When you have more experience of Kemet and its people you will realize the necessity of expedience."

  "I will not lie--not about my beliefs, or about my actions."

  "Then let me act, my lord, for I have your good at heart."

  "Act how? By trampling on the beliefs of my subjects?"

  Ay allowed himself a slight smile and bowed, thus missing the ripple of anger that played over the young king's features. "The worship of the Aten is heresy and those who still cling to that religion are heretics, misguided at best."

  "The only heresy was worshipping the Aten to the exclusion of all the other gods. Aten is a Kemetu god and the destruction of his temple is an affront to the majesty of our Two Lands."

  "Atenism is still the official religion and Akhenaten is still the king. Must his delusions continue to rip our country apart?"

  "Waenre Akhenaten is king but so am I," Smenkhkare said softly, his dark eyes boring into Ay's. "I am working to soften the effect of more than a decade of monotheism, but I will not act precipitately."

  "I would strongly advise you..."

  "I do not want your advice, Ay."

  Ay shrugged once more, making his king's jaw muscles jump again. "That is my function. I am Tjaty and King's Adviser. It is my duty to guide the king using my experience and wisdom."

  "You are not my Tjaty, nor my Adviser, even though you are my uncle. I did not appoint you. If you desire that function, then return to Akhet-Aten so my brother Akhenaten may make use of you."

  "Akhenaten rules only his City of the Sun. He has no use for a Tjaty, whereas you..."

  "I have my own advisers, uncle. And ones I can trust."

  Ay stared at his young king. His hands clenched into fists beside him and his breath came faster, his nostrils dilating. "You do not trust me?"

  "I did not say that. I said only that I have advisers I can trust and that I do not need Akhenaten's Adviser to help me in my task."

  "And what of my services these past three years?" Ay stepped forward, his eyes flashing. "Have I not guided you, supported you and advised you through a time that would surely have overwhelmed a boy unused to power and court intrigue?"

  "I am no longer a boy."

  Ay opened his mouth to further his attack, before catching sight of the young man's expression. He swallowed his words and kept a tight hold on his anger. "You are right, your majesty. You are no longer a boy but surely my experience and wisdom are still useful currency in guiding our country?"

  "You want my thanks, uncle? You have it. You want honours? You already have them, all that a man could want. How can you rise higher in Kemet? You are but one step below the kings. You want rewards for your services to three kings? You shall have them in abundance. I am going to give you vast estates in the Delta, uncle. Rich farmlands with many servants and huge herds of cattle. Return to Zarw, to your people the Khabiru, to your ailing daughter Mutnodjme, and enjoy your well-earned retirement."

  "You would not dare..." Ay bit his lip, stifling his anger. After a moment he resumed in a calmer voice. "You do not mean it, your majesty. You cannot. My function is to advise you..."

  "I have other advisers."

  "Who? Who could possibly advise you as well as me? Do you mean that pack of misfits you call a council?"

  Smenkhkare's eyes narrowed for a moment before he relaxed. He turned and walked back to the window, perching himself on the sill and sipping his wine. "Go on, Ay. Tell me of my misfits."

  Ay hesitated then tossed his head defiantly, his wavy white hair gleaming in the bright noon light that poured in from the wide windows. "Very well then, I will advise my king one more time." He crossed to the table and poured himself a cup of wine without bothering to ask the king's permission. He used the time and the simple actions to gather his thoughts.

  "Your council--if it can be called that--consists of a physician, a priest, a scribe, a merchant, a couple of dirty commoners and a girl. There is only one legitimate member, Treasurer Sutau. Physician Nebhotep is competent enough in his field, I suppose, but hardly a man to decide the fate of Kemet. He is more at home among his pills and his knives."

  "I thought you liked Nebhotep. Did he not save the royal household from the worst ravages of the plague?" A shadow crossed Smenkhkare's eyes as he remembered the death of his own grandmother Tiye from the plague.

  The same shadow darkened the old man's face for a moment. He recalled his granddaughters lost to the disease that swept through Kemet, killing nearly one in ten. "What has liking a man got to do with it? I look for ability in the men I use, not their charm. He is a fine physician--as physicians go, but not a man to advise a king. As for the priest--well, he is my brother Aanen and I am quite fond of him for all he is a rabid follower of Amun."

  "I seem to remember you were a priest of Amun before you turned to Aten," Smenkhkare murmured.

  Ay flushed. "Yes, I was. But my outlook was never narrow; I was always open to alternative ideas."

  "You bend with the wind, you mean." Smenkhkare flicked his hand nonchalantly. "My apologies, Ay, I have interrupted your diatribe against my council. Please continue."

  Ay inclined his head toward his king, his expression tight-lipped. "The priest is only interested in one thing," he continued. "The return of his wealth and power."

  "Not just that, but yes, he seeks the reinstatement of Amun as first god of Kemet. I see nothing wrong in that. Amun is the god of our royal house."

  "Then there is the scribe Khensthoth. A pedantic old fool who is better employed as a teacher of foolish boys than as a statesman."

  Smenkhkare smiled, though not at Ay's cynical remarks. "I was one of those foolish boys once. You should take the time to get to know the old man. He is a repository of wisdom."

  Ay waved a hand dismissiv
ely. "At least those members of your council are educated men and can talk intelligently. What of your four commoners--the grain merchant, the toymaker, the farm boy and the pimp? What possessed you to give power to such as these?"

  "They are good men. Well, Kenamun the toymaker is anyway. The merchant Meres seeks profits; he wants the economy running smoothly again. The farm lad Khu stuck by my sister in a time of great danger. I value loyalty. Mahuhy is a businessman and knows how the city works. I have seen them all as they went about their work and I can recognise their abilities."

  "But they are common. Their families are nothing. How can you raise them so far above their station?"

  "My family was common once," Smenkhkare said softly. "Before the god Amun raised them to become Per-Aa, the Great House, they were mere soldiers. And what of yourself, Ay? Your father was a common shepherd of the Khabiru before my grandfather raised him to the nobility. Do not be quick to judge others on the circumstances of their birth."

  Ay bowed once more, hiding the fury in his eyes. "I stand corrected, your majesty," he murmured.

  "And what of the last member of my Council?"

  Ay turned away from his king and stared out through the wide window at the city. "Yes, your sister Beketaten." He remained silent for a long time, his fingers slowly twirling the wine cup by its long golden stem. "A beautiful child," he said at last. "But willful."

  Smenkhkare held his voice carefully neutral. "Would you care to explain that?"

  "Come, your majesty," Ay chided. "Everyone knows of Beketaten's part in my daughter Nefertiti's supposed rebellion. She overheard me talking to my daughter when she was angered and not thinking straight and the girl leapt to false conclusions. Instead of going to Akhenaten with her accusations she fled the city to protect what she thought was a danger to her own life. It was only when she was discovered that she concocted this fantastic tale of my own treason." Ay turned and looked hard at Smenkhkare. "Akhenaten himself heard my case and ruled me innocent."

 

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