The Awakening Aten

by Aidan K. Morrissey

  Haqwaset, dressed in the ceremonial robes of an officer of the army, knelt as his chief steward placed the stately Khepresh, the Blue crown, on his head.

  Tonight’s feast was a diplomatic event. Haqwaset hated politics. Every word, he spoke, every movement he made, open to interpretation or, more frequently, misinterpretation. All reported to the High Priest, who believed his power so great, he ordered the murder of Haqwaset’s first born son. The attempt failed. The High Priest’s involvement could not be proved. Such things should not be tolerated, but diplomacy dictated they had to be. At least on the surface.

  He wished he could bring forward his plan to have Tiye’s brother, Anen, installed in that position. Haqwaset’s grandfather thought that by moving his administration north to Ineb-Hedj and staying away from the priests, their power and influence would wane. Haqwaset’s grandfather was wrong. Absence only encouraged the power hungry priests.

  Those were battles for another day, now he needed to find Tiye and speak to her before the festivities began. He had to inform her of the latest problem and also discuss the handling of their guest this evening.

  He went to Tiye’s quarters. The guards were standing outside her door and bowed low as he approached. They didn’t challenge him as they would have any other person. They had instructions from Tiye that her husband could enter without announcement at any time. Without such instructions, even the King would be refused entry. These men were assigned to protect her; they wouldn’t hesitate to use spear or sword, club or fist to do so, even against the King himself, if her life was threatened.

  Laughter rang out as he entered. Tiye and Nebetya, her favourite and closest servant, were sharing a joke about something Haqwaset was sure he would never understand. Also in the room and laughing just as loudly, were the King’s sisters Tiaa, and Pyihia. Nebetya sank to her knees as soon as she saw Haqwaset, which wasn’t immediately as she had been facing away from him, her attention on other things. He smiled at her and told her to rise.

  ‘You must try and explain the joke to me some time,’ he said.

  ‘I don’t think so husband,’ replied Tiye. ‘You’re a man. You wouldn’t think it funny.’

  The three royal women in the room laughed again, Nebetya, knowing her place, turned away from the King, hiding her face. He could tell from the movement of her shoulders she was struggling to keep from laughing also.

  Haqwaset thought better of pursuing the enquiry and could feel himself reddening, but still didn’t know why.

  ‘I wish my father had fathered more sons and fewer daughters. I feel outnumbered in my own Palace and it’s time you two found yourselves a husband each,’ he said, turning to his sisters, ‘or do you want me to find you one? I’m sure there must be a prince somewhere in the darkest reaches of Kush or Hatti who would take you off my hands for a few handfuls of gold – or maybe a nomadic slave trader would give me a couple of camels for you.’

  Even if it had been permissible, Tiaa would never have wanted to leave the royal household and marry. She was happy to stay in the Palace with her sisters and sister-in-law. Princesses of Kemet were never allowed to marry, unless it was to their own brothers or fathers. To permit a girl of royal blood to bear children other than those of the King himself might make for too many constitutional challenges. However, Haqwaset had the power to change this rule if he wanted and he didn’t mind teasing his sisters.

  ‘Maybe I should marry you myself then,’ said Haqwaset. ‘I’m thinking of building a new, very small palace out in the White Desert. You could be head of the household – in fact there would only be you there so you could be the entire household. I could put you in charge of collecting silver ants; ‘Lesser Chief Wife and Ant Collector’, now there’s a new title for you. What do you think Pyihia?’

  ‘Don’t involve me in this. Just remember where she goes, I go; where I go, my old tutor Horemeb goes, and where he goes, your children go. You said he must tutor them as he tutored you, and the rest of our family. He is too old to live in the White Desert, or even attempt to pass through it. No-one, other than a desperate, fleeing sand ranger goes there, not even the craziest of nomads.’

  ‘I’m still tempted to find each of you a very ugly prince to marry, one who would be so grateful for someone to share his bed he would happily accept you without a dowry. Anyway, isn’t it time you got ready for this evening’s guest?’

  ‘We hate that man,’ said Pyihia. ‘He leers at us and tries to touch the servants most inappropriately – must we be present?’

  ‘As your King, I tell you it would be an affront to him and his master if he knew you were in the Palace and didn’t attend. As your brother, I say I won’t tell him you’re here if you don’t want me to; you can stay in your quarters for the evening. He will be leaving early in the morning as I’ll have an urgent message for him to take to Kirgipa. I don’t know what it is yet, but I’m sure I’ll think of something. Now please both of you go, I need to speak to my present Chief Wife. Nebetya can you go with them and make sure they keep out of trouble and don’t try listening at the door. If your mistress agrees,’ he added quickly.

  Tiye, still smiling, nodded her consent to release Nebetya. Once gone, Haqwaset kissed his seated wife tenderly on the forehead.

  It didn’t take long for Haqwaset to give full details of what he had found out this evening. The gravity of the situation was clear, but she agreed any final decision could await the arrival of her father. He would be here in a few days. Yuya had already left his home to the north, journeying by boat. The information was fresh; nothing would change by waiting until he arrived. They had a clear idea of what should be done and this thought was the same for each of them. However, the inevitable consequences of their decision would have a lasting impact on the relationship between Crown and Church; as such they needed the unbiased opinion of the greatest diplomat the Two Lands had ever known. They turned their attention to tonight’s guest and discussed the various matters which could arise during the evening. A servant arrived.

  ‘The guests are all assembled and ready for the feast to start Majesty; if you are ready to join them I can instruct the kitchens to prepare to serve. If not I can ask them to delay service of the food?’

  ‘We’ll come directly,’ Haqwaset said.

  ‘The sooner we start the sooner it’ll be over,’ said Tiye, rising from her seat. They walked out together, their plan for the evening settled.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Tiye winced at the sound of the metal shenebs. Five notes repeated three times to announce the arrival of the Lord of the Two Lands.

  ‘They sound like bellowing bulls,’ Tiye said, with minimum movement of her lips and fixed radiant smile. Haqwaset turned to his Queen with a look of amusement, before telling the gathered guests they could raise their heads and rise to their feet.

  The main guest of the evening, Barratarna, the envoy from Naharina, was impossible to miss. Dressed in white, covered in gold, he stood in the centre of the room, surrounded by aides.

  ‘By the gods, he has become the size of an elephant,’ Tiye whispered as she took her seat. ‘And I can smell his myrrh and cinnamon perfume from here. He must have bathed in it.’

  Disgust welled up in Tiye at the sight of their copiously sweating guest and his constant exaggerated exhalations. Nervousness or the exertion of rising from his knees? She wasn’t sure which. It took four servants to help the colossal frame to stand. His journey down to the ground had been easier. There was a large seat behind him for use while he waited for the King. This was not a man who could stay on his feet for long.

  Haqwaset, his smile unchanging, waved over to the gold clad elephantine envoy, motioning for him to sit beside him. It was always known Barratarna would take up the honoured seat, to the left of the King. The meal was officially in his honour, but no-one would dare take that exalted position until formally invited. A god can always change his mind.


  Barratarna moved towards the King’s table. His whole body swayed from side to side with each step. The gold jewellery and amulets around his neck embedded with precious stones of every colour, the gold bracelets on his arms, wrists and ankles all moved creating a discordant jangling.

  ‘I think I prefer the sound of the sheneb,’ Tiye said. This caused a semi warning glance from her husband which soon changed to a smile. He knew his wife was more diplomatic than he and would never risk a guest of the importance of this one hearing any unguarded remark. His trust in her, in all areas, knew no bounds.

  The envoy drew nearer. The effort of walking ten or fifteen steps, towards his seat, was taking its toll. He kept stopping every three or four paces, blowing hard. He needed time to recover, to get more air into his lungs, before taking the next few paces. He brought his massive frame to a halt in front of Haqwaset, making a forward movement of his head which was the nearest his frame could get to a bow.

  Tiye feared he would topple over, particularly given the weight of gold around his neck. Between loud intakes of breath and even louder exhalations he managed to speak.

  ‘Oh mighty Majesty, may your life be long, filled with happiness and good health, may your wealth be ever increased and your enemies vanquished. I bring greetings from my master, the exalted King Shuttarna of Naharina, bound to the Lord of the Two Lands by treaty, love and marriage.’

  Even if Haqwaset hadn’t been forewarned about the purpose of the visit, the mention of enemies and being bound together by treaties were indications that the envoy was not about to offer a new wife or make a blatant request for gold, which were all too frequent in the past.

  ‘Your greetings and salutations are well received, Barratarna, most faithful servant of my dearest ally. I hope your message to me, from your master, is one sent by him in good health.’

  ‘Indeed, most gracious Majesty, he is in good physical condition.’

  The undertone and careful choice of words by this highly experienced diplomat, was unmistakable. If Shuttarna’s physical health only was emphasised, then he was signifying there was something, real or imagined, troubling him. He had no doubt his guest would get to the point sooner or later. He hoped it would be sooner as he could not stand this man and wanted to be away from him as quickly as diplomatic propriety allowed.

  Two servants carried the envoy’s specially designed and reinforced chair. They placed it in the space beside Haqwaset, then eased him into his sitting position. Even the effort of this simple movement made him breathless. Once seated he turned towards Tiye.

  ‘As always most gracious and powerful Queen, the gods have smiled on you tonight and your radiance and beauty exceed even the last time we met.’

  Tiye smiled, struggling for something to say to this odious, obese, overbearing man which would hide the disgust she felt being near to him.

  ‘I thank you, you are indeed most kind. Seeing you brings back thoughts of all the wonderful things my beloved sister Kirgipa, tells me. She always speaks joyfully about you and her time in her father’s court.’

  In using the word ‘joyfully,’ Tiye was being ironic. Tiye and the diplomatically married Kirgipa, the kind, gentle daughter of King Shuttarna II of Naharina, had developed a close friendship. They spent many hours enjoying each other’s company and laughed uncontrollably about the failed hilarious attempts of this unbearable, ever expanding excuse for a man to woo her, her sisters and others of standing in the Court. It didn’t matter to him whom he married, as long as it raised his station in life. However, his insatiable appetite for food, servant girls and, Kirgipa suspected, servant boys, meant this would never happen. Her father continuously sent this effeminate sycophant on errands conveying messages. The Naharina King knew Barratarna was disliked everywhere. However, this frequently helped obtaining what was requested quickly. The recipients of messages wanted him out of their palaces.

  Tiye turned her attention to the person seated to her right. Until she reneged, this position was assigned to Princess Tiaa. In her place was Neferu, the sister of Maiherpri’s mother. Maiherpri was standing behind Haqwaset, ever watchful and loyal. To the right of Neferu, sat Amunitore, a young Nubian girl, who was entranced by Maiherpri. She was unable to take her eyes away from him, despite the best efforts of Meri-bes to distract her with his jovial small talk. Neferu had been sent ahead from Kush by Merymose to make sure everything in the Palace was ready for his arrival. Maiherpri’s mother insisted Amunitore accompanied her. Judging from the looks the young girl was giving Maiherpri, Tiye assumed Merkare may have been doing more than a little matchmaking, it seemed to be working.

  Only snippets of conversation between Haqwaset and Barratarna made their way into Tiye’s consciousness. She knew her husband would give her the details later, at least what he believed were all the details. Tiye knew, from experience, men only remember the parts of conversation of interest to them at that time. Small pieces of often vital detail are missed because men don’t realise the significance, or fail to ask the right question to glean more of the information. Her husband was better than most but still she needed, from time to time, to glean material facts from him.

  It was normal for Haqwaset to discuss the important parts of business before the food arrived and certainly before no more than a couple of glasses of wine had been drunk. Inebriation was a good state for releasing information the giver didn’t always intend for you to have, but not always good for getting the most significant detail in a clear, concise way.

  The Naharina envoy passed a scroll containing the message from his King to Mahu. The Chief of Security then passed this, unopened, to Maiherpri, who handed it to his sovereign. Haqwaset unwrapped it. Tiye noticed a frown and occasional raised eyebrow as he read.

  Once finished, Haqwaset rose quietly.

  ‘I need to consider the contents. I will return momentarily. Chief Stewart, start serving food to our guests, they should not be kept waiting further.’

  He called over his two most senior and trusted Palace Guard Generals, and asked them to sit on either side of the visiting envoy to keep him entertained during his absence. The guards drew up small chairs.

  Haqwaset called Mahu and Meri-Bess to accompany him and nodded to Tiye. Meri-Bess complained to Amunitore.

  ‘Typical. Just as the food is about to be brought in. I’m starving. Young lady, there’s a goose coming with my name on it, make sure no-one else touches it before I get back.’

  Haqwaset gave a gentle nudge with his foot to his scribe who was sitting on the floor next to his King’s feet, as was usual for him, his eyes were closed.

  Huy was the King’s architect, teacher and adviser. In royal circles he was called simply ‘Huy’ but he, and his works, were known throughout the Two Lands and beyond its borders. All countries and kings who relied on the protection and friendship of Kemet and its rulers knew his name and his importance. It was Huy who designed the fortresses which lined the river to protect the fertile land and its people from nomadic sand-rangers who roamed the western desert. Huy had organised the troops and defences of the northern delta region to protect the coast and inland settlements from marauding pirates and brigands. He had first started to work under Haqwaset’s father and did much of the work on the Pyramid Temples and shrines. With his eyes closed, no-one ever knew if he was sleeping or concentrating. Haqwaset had many times asked Huy, for whom he had the greatest respect, to have a chair made so he could be more comfortable but he said he had spent more than thirty five years sitting on the floor and his body was most accustomed to his cross-legged sitting position. He would not be happy on a chair.

  Meri-Bes followed Haqwaset and the others through the door. Amunitore leaned over to Tiye.

  ‘In what way will Meri-Bes’s name be written on the goose? Will I be able to see it as it’s brought in from the kitchen?’

  Tiye and Neferu both laughed loudly.

  ‘Oh the in
nocence of the young is heart-warming,’ said the Nubian.

  ‘Don’t worry little one,’ said Tiye, ‘I’ll mention it to the Chief Stewart, so he can keep an eye on it for you.’

  As she passed the Chief Stewart, Tiye said something to him. Amunitore noticed he looked over at her and smiled broadly. She felt herself reddening, knew she must have said something wrong but couldn’t think what.

  As Tiye walked out of the room, she bristled, feeling the stare of the Naharina envoy following her every move. The thought of what he might now be thinking, made her shiver with disgust. She knew, once she was out of sight, his attention would be drawn to Neferu and Amunitore, at least until the arrival of the mountain of food and naked dancing girls.

  On leaving the Great Hall, Tiye followed several corridors and entered a small room, passing two Palace Guard Officers standing by the entrance. One of the Guards opened the thick wooden door as she approached. Once through the opening she turned and closed an equally sturdy second door. This door would normally have been too heavy even for her husband to close unaided, but some very clever hinging and engineering from Meri-Bes meant she could move it easily with just one hand.

  Inside the room, her husband, together with Mahu, his Chief of Security and Meri-Bes were sitting around a plain wooden table on unadorned chairs. The table and chairs were enough for twelve people but only the three friends and the scribe sat in the windowless room. This was what Haqwaset liked to call his Council of War Chamber. It was brightly lit by dozens of candles around the walls, positioned on two specially designed shelves, one set just above standing height and the second lower down. The use of mirrors enhanced the available light many-fold. The double door and lack of windows, combined with the great thickness of the walls, meant what was said inside this room remained inside it.