The Awakening Aten

by Aidan K. Morrissey

  ‘It is a pleasure to meet you, uncle,’ Kirgipa said. ‘You know Takhat and I are almost like sisters so you must be my uncle too.’

  Djoser’s face turned bright red, he was unable to speak. The Queen laughed and put out her hand to touch Djoser’s arm.

  ‘Don’t worry uncle,’ she said. ‘There are no ceremonial duties for you to perform.’ She turned and walked towards the portal.

  ‘It seems to me Nofret, I have seen uncle Djoser’s robe before. What a beautiful floral arrangement you’ve prepared for our greeting, was this Takhat’s work?’

  ‘With a little help from Djoser and…’ her voice trailed off.

  ‘And perhaps you remember this reprobate?’ Perneb was saying.

  Djoser looked at Perneb, then had to raise his eyes a little to look into the face of the tall man beside Perneb, who was smiling broadly.

  ‘Oh indeed I do. The son of Kha could never be forgotten.’

  ‘What do I do? What is the proper etiquette? Should I bow as I did for the Queen? Should I speak? Can I run?’ thought Djoser.

  The decision was, however, taken from him as the old man stretched out both his arms and pulled Djoser into a tight hug. He may have been old but Yuya still had a strong grip. Once released, Djoser was able to say;

  ‘My father would wish me to send you his greetings – except he doesn’t know I’m here.’

  Yuya laughed, ‘I’ll see him soon enough, my boy. I intend to pay him a visit on this trip to Waset.’

  ‘He will like it if you do,’ Djoser replied, but was afraid such a meeting wouldn’t take place after his story had come out. His shame would stretch to his family and he doubted whether even his father could escape the stigma.

  After Yuya, Tjuya’s greeting was polite and friendly. All began an informal procession towards the house. Djoser hung back a little. His courage of this morning seemed to be leaving him, Takhat and Pihuri came up to him. Takhat smiled, with his wife’s smile, and his courage returned.

  ‘Come along Djoser,’ said Takhat, ‘The worst of it’s over now.’

  Djoser smiled wryly. ‘If only you knew, if only you knew,’ he thought.

  *

  As the party were settling down for a short meal and small talk, the battered, bleeding Barratarna and his guard were approaching the town. As Perneb toasted his guests, Barratarna’s guards swore and prodded him. As the guests went to their quarters to bathe and change for the Temple inauguration ceremony, Barratarna prayed to Hathor. As the Royal party gathered to take the walk to the Temple, the broken-nosed guard was whipping the horses pulling the cart, to try and force his way through the crowds which were gathering.

  ‘They must have known you were coming,’ he said, spitting at Barratarna. ‘A great welcoming committee we have here.’

  Barratarna ignored him and continued to pray.

  chapter twenty-one

  The High Priest, Meryhathor, led the procession towards the Temple. It was not too distant from the main house, Temples of this importance never were. As the procession was entering the square from the west, Barratarna’s own procession was entering from the southern entrance.

  ‘Make way you fools,’ Broken-Nose shouted. ‘Make way you imbeciles.’ The cart forced its way through the crowd. It parted and, as the smell and sight of the wretched man in the back passed them, they held their noses, some retched, all had a look of horror on their faces.

  ‘Go back,’ they shouted to Broken-Nose and the soldiers in their filthy uniforms. ‘Are you mad?’

  Broken nose ignored them.

  ‘Make way you fools,’ he repeated, ‘we are on the King’s business, make way.’

  He was carrying his sharpened stick and used it repeatedly on anyone in his way. When he finally broke into the square he found himself less than twenty paces away from a line of ceremonially dressed soldiers and a party of dignitaries.

  Too late, he realised his error. He, his men, the stinking cart and its foul cargo were in full sight of the procession. All turned, focussing on the furore. A few words from the commander and six of the royal escort soldiers nearest to the cart broke ranks. Their spears at the ready, they forced the cart and its guard to turn.

  Kirgipa, walking alongside Nofret and Takhat, had a clear view. The stench hit her first, then the horror of the man, if it was a man, chained in a cage like an animal. As the cart turned away she was able to see the man’s face, it was black and blue, covered in dirt, as was his whole body. Blood, mixed with mud, encased his body. She was repulsed but could not avert her eyes. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. The incident took just a few seconds but it seemed like minutes. For a brief moment her eyes met with those of the prisoner. She saw his eyes opening wide. Recognition? His mouth opened, a wail, then a voice.

  ‘Princess Kilu-Hepa? Princess Kilu-Hepa? Help me. Please help me.’

  She was shocked to hear her name called out in the tongue of her homeland. Here in Kemet she was Kirgipa. Only amongst her entourage was she still, occasionally, referred to by her Naharina name. The cart was being forced back through the crowds and disappearing from view.

  ‘Barratarna?’ she said. Nofret and Takhat turned to look at her, concern etched across their faces.

  Kirgipa called over to the senior Officer who came running and knelt in front of her. She spoke briefly. He bowed, went to his local counterpart, they both called several soldiers to their sides and ran off in the direction the cart had taken. The crowd quickly parted to allow them through and it was not long before they had caught up with their quarry.

  Order restored, the Royal procession moved on towards the Temple. The young Queen, visibly shaking, was being supported by her two friends. They reached the Temple. The main party entered the courtyard. Kirgipa, Takhat and Nofret went inside the first hall with the High Priest leading the way. Everyone else remained in the open courtyard. The High Priest and the ladies were immediately lost from view. Djoser pictured them walking straight through into the sanctuary to pay homage to, and seek succour from, Hathor. He prayed all would be well.

  About thirty minutes later, the strains of chanting came from inside the Temple. A column of priests entered the courtyard, carrying burning incense. The chanting continued. The High Priest followed. Behind him, the barque carrying the statue of Hathor. Djoser had been stunned at its beauty in the lamp light of the sanctuary but now, in the sunlight, it made him breathless. The tranquillity and sense of calm of yesterday returned, even stronger than before.

  Immediately behind the barque came a woman dressed plainly in white. As she walked she began chanting in rhythmic counterpoint to the priests. The effect of the high tones of the chantress against the deep melodic chants of the priests was enough to move some of the onlookers to tears.

  As the barque progressed across the courtyard each person knelt in supplication, rising only after the statue and the persons following it had passed. Each then joined the procession. The Queen’s composure, at least to the onlookers, had returned. She looked as serene as she had been walking from the boat that morning.

  ‘Maybe the visit to Hathor in her sanctuary has done for Kirgipa what it did for me yesterday. This is certainly a goddess to be reckoned with,’ thought Djoser.

  The procession moved out into the public square, still thronged with people wanting to get a glimpse of the statue of Hathor and seek her blessings for many ailments and conditions; aches and pains to sleeplessness, conception to childbirth. Everyone seeking Hathor’s indulgence.

  When the procession eventually returned to the Temple, only the Queen, Nofret and Takhat entered into the hallways and sanctuary. Djoser’s peace and calmness were still present.

  ‘Before I die, I will offer a sacrifice to Hathor.’

  The ladies came out from the Temple, joining the rest of the party for the walk back to the Governor’s residence. Yuya, Perneb and the Queen
walked together with the two senior officers. A series of nods were exchanged between the military men as the Queen spoke to them.

  As they reached the residence the officers peeled away, calling a number of soldiers to them. The Governor, his family and guests entered the building. In the outer hall, Perneb turned to his guests.

  ‘There is plenty of time until the festivities start, so you may all go to rest and bathe. Our servants will sound a trumpet to inform you one hour before the Banquet. We’ll all meet in the dining area under the vines. Just follow the sound of the music.’

  His voice, although friendly and light in tone, carried the undercurrent of command, leaving no-one in any doubt they were to disappear from sight until called for.

  ‘Djoser, can you spare me a moment before you go?’ Perneb said, as the people dispersed in different directions. Yuya, Kirgipa and some others waited for everyone else to leave.

  ‘Let’s go into the garden.’

  As Djoser walked towards his host, Kirgipa turned, she tried to raise a smile but he could see she had been crying.

  They walked through the garden and continued onto the landing. At one end, servants had cleared the flowers and shrubs, placing seating cushions around.

  ‘We’ll decide what to do when the officers come with their report,’ Yuya said.

  Djoser was seated next to Pihuri.

  ‘Why am I here?’ he asked the young man.

  ‘Yuya thought your artisan’s mind might be useful. Actually what he said was, “this situation may need some lateral thinking and if Djoser’s mind is half as wily as his father’s he may have some useful input.” Don’t look at me like that, Djoser. I’m just repeating the conversation.’

  The mood of the group was not conducive to laughter so the two men just smiled at one another and fell into silence.

  The silence was broken by the sound of running feet. The two officers joined the group. Dropping to their knees in front of the Queen, the Royal Officer was first to speak.

  ‘I’m sorry, your Majesty. The man, in the cart, is indeed, the envoy from Naharina. We have spoken with him and his story is far from pleasant.’

  ‘You may speak freely in front of all here,’ she said. ‘These are my friends and counsellors. We’ll decide together what to do.’

  The officer told the full story. The betrayal of her father, the plot of the Hatti ruler to invade her homeland, remove permanently her whole family and place Barratarna on the throne as Regent.

  ‘Thank you. That makes me feel better,’ said the young Queen without sarcasm. ‘I have always despised Barratarna but, seeing my father’s envoy in such a state, I thought something must have happened to sour the relationship between my country and Haqwaset. I was concerned the might of Kemet would be raised against my family. However no-one deserves to be treated like he’s been, not even a dog should be so abused.’

  ‘My Lady, we have taken the opportunity to speak, not only with the envoy, but also with his guards. They are a heinous bunch, especially the most senior of them. We spoke with the officers who set out from Waset with Barratarna. They are leading a group of seven hundred troops, chariots and archers. They are on a rolling trip to strengthen the garrisons in your home country and to protect your father and the rest of your family.’

  ‘This is the first I’ve heard of this,’ said Perneb.

  The officer continued without hesitation.

  ‘The idea was to return Barratarna to your father alive but punished, to face his death. However, it seems his captors were overzealous. Due to the slow speed of the cart, the main body of troops went on ahead, charging the cart detail to follow as quickly as possible and ensure Barratarna arrived at the garrison here, alive, by tonight, as the next leg of the trip north, with the fresh troops, will begin at first light.’

  ‘Why was I not informed?’ Perneb asked the garrison commander.

  ‘The orders only arrived the day before yesterday, my Lord. I was here and at the Temple for most of the intervening period and only discovered the details myself yesterday. I was intending to inform you after the ceremony today. There’s no change in troop numbers in the garrison and no military or other significance to this sepat, so I saw no urgency in informing you.’

  ‘We’ll leave the point there for now but I’ll discuss this with you at the first opportunity. I should know everything you know immediately you know it,’ Perneb said.

  ‘Yes, my Lord,’ the officer replied, looking down at his feet.

  ‘We must decide what to do,’ said Yuya.

  ‘Haqwaset has ordered this wretch to be brought alive to the King of Naharina, on pain of death to the guard if they fail.’

  ‘I can’t believe Haqwaset himself would have ordered or even known of the details of his method of transportation.’ It was Kirgipa who spoke.

  ‘Maybe theory and practice are different,’ Yuya interjected. ‘Anyway, we must find a way of improving his conditions and complying with the King’s wishes.’

  ‘If I may say something,’ the local garrison commander said, looking towards Perneb who nodded.

  ‘The guards are united in the view that any kind of relaxation in the regime would lead to the prisoner trying to take his own life. Whatever else the man may be, he is not afraid of dying. In fact, he pleads continuously for someone to end his life.’

  ‘What about the guards, are they trustworthy?’ asked Nofret, her arm around the Queen’s shoulders.

  ‘I don’t know them personally, but my friend’s comment earlier about them being heinous, especially the one in charge, is correct.’

  ‘Will they be punished for the treatment of Barratarna?’ asked Kirgipa.

  ‘That is a decision which must be taken, Majesty,’ replied the commander. ‘Certainly they have exceeded their orders and have been particularly cruel. Most of them didn’t participate in the persistent abuse, which the soldier in charge seemed to enjoy inflicting. Obviously, from tomorrow a new guard will be appointed, we can ensure he is treated better. However, relaxing his chains, or other alleviation, might provide him with an opportunity for suicide. If he did so, the guards who had allowed it to happen would themselves then have to forfeit their lives, as this is the command of the King.’

  The group began talking animatedly back and forth without reaching a conclusion. Once or twice Djoser was about to speak but then before he had the chance, someone else put forward their views and he remained silent.

  After a while Yuya said, ‘Djoser, it seems we have invited you to this meeting for no reason. Have you anything to say?’

  ‘I believe there may be a simple solution, perhaps so simple it borders on stupidity and you’ll all laugh at me,’ Djoser replied.

  ‘We could do with a laugh,’ said Takhat, ‘let’s hear what you have to say.’

  Djoser smiled. His love for Takhat, due to her resemblance to his wife, was growing. Not in any improper way, precisely the opposite. His love was like that he had for his own daughters – pure and unconditional.

  ‘It seems to me there is a humane solution which gives almost everyone what they want but maybe not in the way they want it. Kirgipa’s father wants Barratarna dead. Barratarna wants to be dead but doesn’t want to wait. Haqwaset’s orders are clear; on pain of death he must be guarded to ensure he stays alive long enough for King Shuttarna to kill him. The guards, one in particular, need to be punished and taught a lesson. Isn’t the solution obvious?’

  Everyone looked at Djoser with curiosity, blank expressions on their faces, except Yuya, who was smiling wryly. When no-one responded to his question Djoser continued.

  ‘Well it seems obvious to me anyway. We allow Barratarna to take his own life. The guard responsible for his safekeeping, this senior officer, is he an officer?’

  The garrison commander shook his head.

  ‘This soldier would need to be punished by de
ath to comply with the King’s wishes. Problem solved,’ he said and rested back on his cushion.

  For a few moments nobody spoke. They were all thinking about the implications of Djoser’s proposal.

  The Royal Officer was first to break the silence.

  ‘Actually it wouldn’t be so difficult to organise. The cart is currently in the barracks. The guards have been placed under arrest and are incarcerated there. Officially they have not been relieved of their duties. It would be easy enough to administer the poison, return them to one last night of guard duty and when, in the morning, the prisoner is found dead, they can be arrested and dealt with appropriately.’

  ‘We don’t need to execute all of the guards do we?’ asked Kirgipa. ‘They don’t all deserve to die, surely. By his actions Barratarna betrayed not only Naharina and my father but also Kemet.’

  The commander of the garrison was next to speak.

  ‘Don’t worry Majesty; we’ll make an example of the one in charge. A man of his kind always deserves to hang.’

  It was agreed. The garrison commander was despatched to organise the plan. The Royal Officer was sent to check all was prepared for the security at the banquet this evening. There was no risk to life tonight but caution was always needed when wine flowed, men drank and naked girls cavorted to music.

  Yuya stood. ‘I knew you took after your father Djoser, you’ve been a great help.’

  ‘Thank you,’ was all Djoser could say in reply.

  He couldn’t believe such a simple straightforward plan could not have been arrived at by Yuya or Perneb.

  ‘It’s time for us to prepare for the banquet,’ said Perneb.

  Each meandered to their own chamber to be greeted by the waiting servants. They were bathed and clothed in preparation for the evening’s entertainment.

  As Djoser walked to his quarters he contemplated how easy it had been for him to condemn two men to their deaths, or at least suggest the method of doing it.