The Awakening Aten

by Aidan K. Morrissey

  It went on, but the truth was these works, together with the building of the Temple of Montu and the new lake in the Great Temple, Ipet-Sut, were excruciatingly expensive. At least they were not having to pay for the new Mortuary Temple of Haqwaset on the west bank now also nearing its completion, which the High Priest considered a folly thought up from the stories of the despised foreigner Yuya.

  Haqwaset had inherited a land at the height of its power and wealth. His father had made a lasting peace with Naharina. Yuya had navigated the country safely through famine making the crown richer in the process. Untroubled by the need to wage war to ensure peace or profit, Haqwaset had taken to great building. This was to be a significant year for him. The new Palace on the west bank of the river was soon to be completed as was his Funerary Temple nearby.

  Aside from his own building projects, the great Temples to Amun on the east bank were being extended to glorify his reign and in seeming public homage to the great god. There were, however, subtle changes being made, the significance of which Haqwaset hoped were going unnoticed by the priests. He and his faithful scribe, Huy, Amenhotep son of Hapu, had almost limitless plans for the further development of the Temples, most of which included the Temples own funds being used to pay for them. If he could not bring the High Priest to book by confrontation, Haqwaset would reduce his wealth and power by guile if necessary.

  Tiye glanced down at Teppy still battling to counter the gaming moves of his young cousin. Her eyes moved to Thutmose, standing tall, looking out along the front of the boat. She was filled with pride every time she looked at her eldest son – the future King. He would make a great ruler – strong, brave, intelligent, funny and caring. Her two sons were very different in character. Teppy, very like his father; impulsive and strong minded, almost to the point of stubbornness. Thutmose was much more thoughtful and careful in his approach to problems. He liked to analyse every angle before coming to a decision.

  Tiye was Yuya’s daughter from his second marriage. She had married Haqwaset when they were both children and Yuya was the child King’s Regent. Yuya had always been a profound influence on Haqwaset’s life and now the King’s sons were benefitting from the old man’s wisdom. He had been Haqwaset’s father’s closest friend. Thutmose IV had treated Yuya as his equal. Only titles, the double crown and the throne, differentiated them. In the Two Lands, Yuya was almost as powerful as the King and, with the exception of the priests of Amun, was respected not only in all corners of Kemet but beyond its borders into the other lands under the sphere of influence of the King. Now the wealth of the Two Lands had never been greater and this had been due to Yuya.

  Much against the wishes of the priests in the Temple, it was Yuya who had been appointed Regent when Haqwaset’s father Thutmose IV died. Haqwaset had been even younger than Teppy was now when he inherited the throne. The priests knew Yuya was not a believer in the traditional religion and didn’t pay homage to Amun. They feared his influence but had been powerless to prevent his appointment as Regent; too many officials had been present when the dying King had placed his own seal on the Declaration. Yuya was not from Kemet and his family were from the region of the hated usurpers who had been forced from the Two Lands by Ahmose long ago.

  Although the priests’ fears were unfounded, they grew with each passing year. They could not accept the fact that Yuya, alone in the inner circle at the Palace, had no personal ambition. He was wealthy beyond measure through gifts bestowed on him from the Kings he so faithfully served. He was loyal and honest. Nothing that was rightfully belonging to another ever found its way diverted for his own use. He had taught Haqwaset well, even if the young King didn’t agree with everything he said about religion and his belief in only one God. The King’s mother, Mutemwiya, had taught him respect for all the gods worshipped throughout the Two Lands particularly Amun, the god revered here in Waset, above all others.

  Yuya’s beliefs, instilled in him as a child by his own mother, were very different from those prevailing in the Two Lands, but he never tried to enforce his own religion on his charge or anyone else. He knew it was the young King who must decide on the right direction for his country, holding the scales that needed to be balanced between state and church. Yuya knew Kemet was in good hands.

  When Haqwaset celebrated his fifteenth birthday, Yuya insisted that it was the right time for his young charge to take over sole control of the country.

  ‘Haqwaset, you’re now a man who has learned all that I can teach. You’re ready to take on the full mantle of being Amenhotep III, you don’t need counselling from me any longer.’

  It was a short, simple statement and once made, Yuya walked away, leaving the young King open mouthed staring after his mentor.

  Even after Yuya removed himself from his exalted office, Haqwaset frequently turned to him for advice. Sometimes that advice would come without asking. Not always accepted but never resented.

  ‘Why didn’t you want to keep the power and possessions Kingship would have given you, Yuya? No-one would have denied you the throne had I died, accidently or otherwise,’ the newly empowered King had asked.

  ‘Haqwaset, for all my wealth and lands, I have just three possessions which mean everything to me,’ Yuya replied, sitting in his usual place in the private quarters he shared with Tjuya, his only wife. Such monogamy almost unique for someone so powerful.

  ‘This ring your grandfather gave me when he appointed me Overseer, this old chair I sit in more and more as I get older, given to me by my young brother whom I had thought lost to me, and thirdly, the chariot made for me when I became Master of the Horse and Commander of Chariotry. Not because of value – yes, the ring of gold is valuable but, its greatest value is that it signifies faith, a precious and rare gift. The chair is of no great value beyond the fact it’s of blessed cedar wood from the home of my forefathers, but I treasure it because it signifies family love and to me it symbolizes, even in our darkest hours, that we should never give up hope. The Chariot was made by Khety, a Master Craftsman and dear friend, and is special to me because I never once fell out of it. My mastery of the chariot was an illusion brought about by the design.’

  Yuya often spoke in severe tones, never openly smiled when he was giving a lecture, or telling a story, which he did constantly – but nothing he did could hide the laughter in his eyes.

  ‘These things I will take with me to my grave, the rest of my possessions mean little to me; however, I believe Tjuya would take a very different view about some of that. Power is not a gift, Haqwaset, but a burden. I was not giving you something when I handed over sole control to you – I was making life easier for myself. My bones are getting tired and I feel my mind faltering. Anyway you had been making decisions since you were twelve, maybe sometimes you just didn’t realize they were your decisions.’

  Aboard the boat, heading for Abdju, Tiye and Haqwaset were able to take advantage of being able to talk openly. The crew had been selected by him and Meri-bes, not only for their physical strength – needed to steer the heavy craft and man the oars, but also because they were incapable of hearing what was said. They were kept in positions meaning they could not read the lips of anyone. At the Palace there were too many people and too many places in which to stay concealed. Nothing said in the Palace could be regarded as private. Outside of his immediate family, Meri-bes, was one of only a very few people whom he could trust. It was the dwarf’s father, Khety, who had made Yuya’s chariot. Meri-bes was not just a servant; in fact in Haqwaset’s eyes he was never that, he was a friend.

  ‘You will kill that cat if you keep holding on to her so tightly Thutmose,’ Tiye called over.

  ‘I’m just making sure she’s safe mother; I think I see rocks ahead.’

  ‘Young master,’ said Meri-Bes in a voice loud enough for all to hear, ‘that isn’t a rock, it’s a hippopotamus.’

  ‘Oh where?’

  Teppy jumped up and ran to the sid
e of the boat knocking the board flying and all the pieces out of their holes. Nefertiti looked down ruefully at the ruined game, shrugged her shoulders and joined her cousin and the others who wanted to see the great river beast.

  The boat was travelling with the current and the wind, so they were moving under the power of sail, easy for the oarsmen who had no work to do at the moment, but hard on the two slaves holding the steering oars at the back of the boat. Meri-Bes gave orders, by way of pre-assigned signals, to alter the direction of the boat slightly so as not to collide with the hippopotamus. The steersmen, who had to concentrate on their captain’s movements, immediately reacted to the signals. Their lack of hearing didn’t mean a lack of professionalism.

  This royal barque was made of the finest imported cedar. With sail for travelling with the wind and twelve oarsmen for times when the wind was of no assistance or for going against the current. The steering oars were long and heavy and attached to the boat with strong leather straps just above the shoulders of the blade.

  They always started this trip in the early hours of the morning before the sun became unbearably hot. However, as Meri-bes had pointed out to Nefertiti earlier, it was the second month of Shemu, the Harvest season, and moving towards the period when the sun was at its hottest. The two slaves were sweating and grimacing with the effort of keeping the boat on the course ordered by Meri-Bes. It wouldn’t be long before duties would change and others from the relaxing oarsmen could take their turns at the working end of the boat. Later, when they reached their place to stop and eat, all would be able to rest.

  ‘Always treat slaves well, they are humans too,’ Yuya had instilled this in Haqwaset from his very early years and he adhered to that principal. The slaves on this boat would today eat the same food as his family and in some cases in bigger portions. Strength came from being well nourished and at least Haqwaset could ensure this for his crew.

  It was not the slaves who caused Haqwaset great concern. It was the courtiers and their retinues. It was the priests of the great Temples of Amun, rich and powerful and ever greedy for more.

  ‘Not today,’ said Haqwaset, looking at the group on the landing stage, ‘your High Priest is safe from my visit.’

  ‘There it is,’ exclaimed Thutmose. ‘Can you see Teppy, its mouth is open.’

  ‘Careful, my young Prince,’ warned Meri-bes as he saw young Amenhotep leaning well over the side, ‘fall into that mouth and Nefertiti will have to find someone else to play “hounds and jackals” with. You too, Thutmose, this particular hippopotamus might be Set himself and he likes the taste of cat.’

  ‘Miauette is no ordinary cat – she is special, Yuya told me so.’

  Thutmose loved his cat. She had been given to him as a gift from his grandfather two months previously. It had been a special day. His three grandparents, Yuya, his wife Tjuya and the great Queen Mutemwiya, his father‘s mother, were in the Palace to examine their new quarters.

  His grandparents were close and, when together, there were always stories and laughter. Stories of his grandfather Thutmose IV, husband of Mutemwiya, and friend of Yuya. There were anecdotes of Yuya, his time in prison where he met Meri-Bes’s father, and his rise to the most powerful man in Kemet. Tales of his great-grandfather Amenhotep II and the defeat of the Naharina, but best of all were the legendary recitals of the glorious battles of his great-great-grandfather, Thutmose III, after whom he was named. The warrior King, Thutmose the Conqueror of foreign Lands, the victor of the battle at Megiddo, which one battle, was said to have conquered a thousand cities. Thutmose V would be as great as this namesake – he would be a great warrior.

  The best tales came from Mahu, chief of security and friend of Meri-bes. They quarrelled constantly over their games of Senet, and their laughter rang around the Palace. Mahu was another of the privileged few who had the complete trust of his sovereign and he was able to bring to life the glorious battles of the past.

  Thutmose was not entirely convinced the hero of those stories was in truth always a member of Mahu’s family. Equally he doubted the many tales where victory was nearly lost due to the inept actions of a dwarf. Meri-Bes frequently said, ‘Mahu never let the truth get in the way of a good story.’

  ‘Oh I know Tamyt is special, my Prince, but that just might make her taste better – be careful – you know Horus himself almost lost an eye in his fight with Set – maybe he will think Miauette is Horus in disguise and will want to finish off the job.’

  The boat safely navigated around the hippopotamus and continued on its way. Today the barque would pass through three sepats and their riverside governor’s mansions. Formalities would be restricted to the waving of flags and cheers from the riverbanks and landing stages. No royal stop-overs for the governors to be concerned about.

  chapter twelve

  There were neither cheers nor friendly waves from the Temple landing stage. The fourteen year old Amenemopet stood with his step-father on the east bank of the great river and watched as the two boats of the King sailed by. The first, a massive warship, was under the command and control of Mahu, chief of security to the King. Soldiers, slaves and maidservants were on board. The first group to protect the King should anything occur and the latter there to prepare the tents and meals for the King and his entourage when they stopped for the night far to the north. They watched the second ship, the disrespectful, foul-mouthed dwarf stood in the front, one arm around the Crown Prince and pointing a stubby finger in their direction.

  ‘I wonder what he is saying about us now,’ said Nahkt, chief cleric of the High Priest.

  ‘I’m not sure he is pointing at us father – maybe he sees something which is in this direction.’

  ‘Do not contradict me boy. What evil is the Queen whispering in the King’s ear? What poisonous words are being said about Amun and his usurpation by the Aten? Is Amenhotep, son of Hapu the great architect on board? The works they have ordered are severely reducing the Temple’s wealth; I’m struggling to keep the coffers filled.’

  He spat out his anger as he spoke.

  ‘Go and tell the High Priest, our master, that the Sovereign and his blackened witch will not be gracing us with their company today. I have somewhere to be – go quickly.’

  Nahkt walked off. Amenemopet headed to the High Priest in his palatial rooms in Ipet-Sut a short distance to the north. Nahkt headed east, past the construction of the papyrus columns toward the area beyond, beggars lined the streets. Men and women too old or lazy to work in the fields to bring in the harvest, children too young or sick to work. No-one should starve in the months of Shemu, there was enough work for everyone, and those who didn’t work in the fields could work for the priests in the building of these enormous new Temple buildings. However, there always seemed to be beggars. Thieves, robbers and beggars, or at least those who gave the appearance of being so. Nahkt ignored them. He had an appointment. He had a plan.

  He would show his master that the payment for these works could be ‘recovered’ from the very people who had ordered their construction; or, if not from them directly, from one of their predecessors. There was a lot of gold and many thousands of precious jewels buried across the river. He could never officially tell his master where the gold was coming from. His master hated the Queen more than Nahkt did, but would never, publically, condone the desecration of the Tombs of the Kings, especially those who had done so much to exalt Amun. The immediate predecessors of the present King knew and acknowledged that their victories and strengths had come from the direct support of Amun and his servants, the priests. However, to Nahkt’s mind, what the first prophet of Amun didn’t know wouldn’t cause him concerns and, as the treasures were going to be removed anyway, they may as well be used to protect the wealth of the priests. If some should remain in the hands of Nahkt then all to the better.

  Nahkt had dismissed most of his entourage and was accompanied by his two Nubian bodyguards. Big, strong a
nd well-armed these two had more reason than most to hate the King and his family. They didn’t speak much, at least when they were in the company of others, but he had heard them tell the story of how they had seen their father’s hand being cut off by the soldiers of Merymose, the self-proclaimed son of a King, and Viceroy in Kush. This kind of experience tends to instil a certain amount of hatred, which properly nurtured, as Nahkt was more than capable of doing, could be of great service to his cause. He was pleased with himself. He persuaded the High Priest to allow him to keep these two as his personal guards.

  There were many buildings and houses, made from mud bricks, in this part of Waset and more appeared daily. Nahkt had often followed the path he was now taking, but this he hoped would be the last time. He hated the stench. He held a perfumed cloth to his face to camouflage the smell. The cloth also helped to disguise him.

  Nahkt’s work, relieving the dead of their wealth, started during the reign of the old King Thutmose IV. The cost of constructing and decorating his own tomb on the west bank of the river, in the site reserved for noblemen, was proving expensive. He wanted the best for himself and Tawy, his much younger wife, a renowned chantress in the cult of Amun. They may not have been of exalted rank in this life but he would ensure that in the afterlife they would be well prepared and provisioned.

  Turning right, then left and left again, in what might appear as random changes, he finally arrived, sweating, outside a larger than normal house, the size of which was disguised by the surrounding buildings.