‘I don’t regard it as wasted Your Majesty. Certainly it will never be seen again by human eyes, but none of my work ever is. The gods can see it though, at any time they wish, and this is the celestial reward my work receives.’
‘I see his wife is mentioned several times. Did he dictate to you the terms to be used or did you have a free hand.’
‘My decision, Majesty.’
‘You refer to her as ‘sister’ and ‘wife,’ did this priest think himself like a king allowing him to marry his sister?’
‘No Majesty,’ Djoser replied quickly, ‘it’s my doing. I was playing with words. It’s a complicated story, but his wife is my sister.’
‘Your sister?’ Haqwaset was incredulous. ‘Is your family so completely intertwined with what is happening at this time in my realm?’
‘Majesty,’ interjected Djoser, ‘my sister, Tawosret, whom we call Tawy, was pressured into marrying Nahkt, after she was raped and made pregnant by the son of the High Priest. He never admitted it was his son of course; he referred to him only as his “protégé”. My sister’s is a loveless marriage but I didn’t want her going into the afterlife without letting the gods know she was loved. Therefore I have written ‘his sister’ and ‘his wife,’ and ‘beloved chantress of Amun,’ these references have multiple meanings. She is my sister but his wife. She is loved by me and my family and she is a chantress. She led the procession for the Beautiful Feast.’
‘Yes, I remember her now. I also remember the story of the child who was raped by the priest. We hanged him didn’t we?’
‘He was executed, my Lord, yes.’
‘This truly is an intricate and tangled story. Where is your sister?’
‘I sent a message to her to stay away, saying only there was trouble involving Nahkt. It was my intention to try and see her tonight. I’m worried what will now happen to her,’ replied Djoser. ‘The priests are not a forgiving breed and Nahkt is very popular with the High Priest.’
‘Yes,’ the King said, ‘he was probably one of his major income sources. That, however, is about to be stopped.’
The King looked around the tomb. Over to one side there was a small statue He walked over, picked it up. It was a fine sculpture of a kneeling man dressed in a white gown. The King turned it around in his hand.
‘Is this one of yours?’ he asked.
‘No Majesty, that is something paid for by the Temple. Nahkt asked one of the sculptors working on the new Temple construction to make it for him. I believe my work should be realistic and that’s a bit flattering.’
‘Certainly, given the way he looks now,’ said the King.
He placed the statue facing away from the entrance and beside a small pit, which had been dug dividing the room they were now in and the room set aside for the coffin. That would never happen now; no coffin nor sarcophagus would enter through the portal of this tomb. The King turned to the exit and walked out into the bright sun. Djoser followed in silence. Haqwaset called over to the guards.
‘It’s time, bring him in,’ he ordered. Nahkt screamed.
‘Please have mercy on me. I repent of all I have done. I’ll spend the rest of my days honouring you, Majesty. You are famous throughout the world for your kindness and generosity of spirit. Please find it in your heart to pardon me, I’ll serve you in any capacity you command, please forgive me. Ask anything and I’ll do it.’
The guards were half dragging him towards the tomb entrance. As he passed, Haqwaset looked directly into his eyes.
‘My only desire is that you die. This is a wish I am about to see come true.’
Nahkt saw Djoser. ‘Is this your doing Djoser? I called you “brother,” you ate with me in my home and you have betrayed me. My Lord, he is as guilty as I. Search his house. He has items belonging to your forefathers.’
Djoser didn’t respond, he didn’t have to. Haqwaset did so for him.
‘Djoser, like your Nubian bodyguards, was, and is, in the pay of the Royal house. His father is as a brother to my Great Wife’s father, so is as an uncle to me. Djoser is my cousin, just as Maiherpri was my cousin.’
‘Then he will die like Maiherpri. He has betrayed the Temple of Amun. He will die, his daughters will be raped, as his sister was raped, and then they will be left to die. He…’
Any further attempt to speak was halted as Haqwaset brought his fist down hard on the back of Nahkt’s head.
‘Enough!’ he said. ‘Guards take him and kneel him beside his statue.’
The guards looked puzzled but as they entered the tomb they saw, in front of them, on the ground, the small statue. They brought Nahkt up beside it and pushed him down onto his knees. Haqwaset followed the guards and their prisoner inside. He made a motion with his hand which made it clear he didn’t want Djoser to enter. Djoser was happy to oblige.
Inside the tomb, Haqwaset walked over to the kneeling priest.
‘Are you ready for your journey to the afterlife, treacherous priest?’ he asked. Nahkt mumbled an incoherent response.
‘When you arrive at the weighing of the heart, what do think will be the outcome?’
Nahkt looked at him, a question in his eyes.
‘Answer me, you piece of dog shit,’ shouted Haqwaset, so loud that Djoser could hear him outside. Nahkt was shaking and his voice trembled as he spoke.
‘I can’t predict what the gods and the holy balance will decide, but I’m sure you believe my heart will be heavy and will be eaten by Ammut the Devourer.’
‘I do not presume to know things known only by the gods in the underworld. I do know this, however, a man must have a heart to journey to the place of weighing,’ he turned to the guards.
‘Remove his heart.’
Nahkt looked horrified and screamed.
‘Keep him alive as long as possible whilst you do it, but remove it and feed it to the first dog you see outside.’
Having said all he intended to, he turned away from Nahkt and with his right foot he kicked the small statue into the pit.
‘Leave his body there to rot beside his statue,’ Haqwaset said, as he walked towards the exit. ‘Make sure the tomb is properly sealed.’
With Nahkt’s screams, echoing around the tomb, resounding in his ears, Haqwaset walked to his chariot.
‘Bring your sister to me this evening, and make sure her son comes too. I need to do something I should have done many years ago. Does your sister love her son?’
‘No Your Majesty, she does not. He was spawned in violence, fear and pain by a frightened ten year old girl. If she had been older and fully understood what had happened to her I’m sure she would have tried to kill him at birth.’
‘Good,’ said Haqwaset. ‘Then I won’t need to feel any guilt for what I shall do.’
With that, he ran the final steps to his chariot, picked up the reins, slapped them down on the horse’s rump and sped away, dust billowing in his wake.
chapter twenty-eight
Djoser found Tawy at the house of one of her friends. She was packing some clothes into a bundle.
‘Going somewhere?’ he asked.
‘I have received a request to go to the Palace,’ she said.
‘Really?’ asked Djoser. ‘Who from?’
‘Are you so surprised, brother, that your sister should be invited to the Palace to sing for the Queen?’ she said mockingly.
‘No,’ he said, ‘it’s not the invitation; it’s the timing of it. Please sit, Tawy, there is something I must tell you.’
Tawy put her bundle aside and sat down. Her friend, standing in the room, asked Djoser if he wanted some beer, an offer which he gratefully accepted. She left the room, leaving the brother and sister alone for a few minutes.
‘Tawy,’ began Djoser, ‘there is much I could tell you. I’ll go into only as much detail as you wish to hear. However, the reason why I was su
rprised by the bidding, for you to go to the Palace, is that I too am here to extend an invitation to the Palace, today. This is from the King himself and is the sort of invitation which cannot be refused. I don’t know what’s in his mind, but I’m sure it’s not to ask you to sing for the Queen. I have also been ordered to bring your son.’
Tawy looked frightened.
‘What do you mean?’ she asked.
‘First, I have to tell you about Nahkt,’ replied Djoser.
Tawy took a deep breath.
‘What has he done now?’ she asked, exhaling in exasperation as she spoke.
‘Put simply,’ Djoser said without emotion. ‘He died. Well at least I think by now he will be dead. I hope so, for his sake.’
‘Djoser, what are you talking about? Was he taken ill? What’s happened? I got your cryptic message not to go home, but I don’t understand.’
In between gulps of the beer, Djoser told her the whole story. The friend, diplomatically, said she had some business at the Temple and would leave them alone to talk. Djoser was grateful. He wanted to speak openly with his sister. He told her about the plan to rob the tomb of the great warrior King, Thutmose III. He told her about his dream and his journey to Iunet, his meeting with Perneb and Yuya and the visit to the Temple of Hathor. He told her how Nahkt had been executed, at the order of the King, who was now ‘requesting’ Tawy’s presence at the Palace.’
Tawy remained silent for a short while. When she spoke there seemed to be a mixture of fear and anger in her voice.
‘Am I to be punished for the wrongs of my husband? I knew nothing of what he’s been doing. Why should I now be summoned before the King? Is my wretched life to be forfeited for the actions of a thief?’
‘Please Tawy, try not to be alarmed. Do you think if he intended you harm, the King would have sent me to bring you? He’d have sent his soldiers and you would have been escorted to the Palace.’
‘As maybe,’ replied Tawy, ‘but it all feels strange.’
Djoser didn’t tell his sister that their parents and his daughters were at the Palace. It may be whatever the King had in mind wouldn’t involve their having to meet. If all went well and the opportunity arose, he would broach the subject of their meeting. So much was happening all at once. Better to take a breath and think about things carefully before acting.
Tawy’s son, Amenemopet, was sleeping at home when Tawy and Djoser came looking for him. He refused to contemplate going to the Palace until Djoser pointed out, forcefully, it was not an option to refuse an order of the King. If he didn’t go willingly, then guards would be dispatched to find him and bring him before his sovereign. He should choose the less painful of the options. The world was not big enough for someone of his abilities, or rather, lack of them, to hide from his ruler.
Amenemopet dressed quickly. The journey, on foot and ferry, from the Temple grounds to the Palace, took several hours. On arrival, they were ushered into a small windowless room by the entrance whilst a guard checked their right to enter. It was some time later when Perneb arrived to escort them to a bath house to prepare for the meeting with the King. He greeted Tawy warmly.
‘Do you remember me?’ he asked, ‘I’m a friend of your father. You came to my house as a very small child of maybe four years old and enthralled us with your singing.’
Tawy relaxed slightly.
‘Yes, I think I do remember,’ she said. ‘They were simpler, happier times.’
‘As a child everything should be simple and happy,’ said Perneb. ‘You and Djoser have been blessed. Your parents have always loved you and have always tried to protect you.’
Tawy smiled, but didn’t respond.
After bathing and changing clothes, Tawy, Djoser and Amenemopet were accompanied by Perneb and Nofret into the Great Hall to meet the King. As they entered there was a large group of people in front of the seated Haqwaset. Tiye was beside him. Haqwaset was speaking, clearly giving orders. He didn’t notice the three new arrivals entering the room. Tiye saw them and summoned them towards the front. As they approached the thrones, they sank to their knees, touching their foreheads to the ground. Tawy was shaking. Noticing this, Djoser placed his arm, protectively, around her shoulders as they rose to stand before their King.
Haqwaset didn’t break from his conversation, ignoring their presence. He continued issuing orders. These were all to do with Maiherpri’s funeral arrangements and the items which should be placed in the tomb with him.
‘I want only the best,’ he said, ‘and remember I will personally inspect everything. I won’t accept shoddiness. Now go, get started. I won’t have anyone say they’re short of time. I don’t care if you don’t sleep for the next thirty days, do what I have commanded and take care to do it properly.’
The group, consisting of scribes and officials of various kinds, bowed and left. None spoke and the room was left in silence.
Apart from the guards, standing at set intervals around the walls of the room and several servants, there remained only the King and Queen, Djoser, Tawy, Amenemopet, Perneb and Nofret. The servants brought cushions.
‘Be seated,’ Haqwaset said, more as a command than as a request; they all obliged.
‘Not you, Amenemopet.’
The young man jumped up.
‘I see you have made full use of your potential, Amenemopet and have done absolutely nothing with your life. I remember you. Your father arranged for you, as a young boy, to come and work at the Palace. You showed some promise. This could have provided a major advantage for your life. You were dismissed for indiscrete and potentially treasonous gossiping, something for which, in a man, would have been punishable severely. Life is about to change for you. Your father has caused a son to be taken from this world. A man whom I was proud to call a friend. He is with us no more, but preparing to spend eternity with the gods, as all true heroes should.’
Amenemopet tried to interrupt. ‘He is not my…’ he began.
‘Be silent,’ Haqwaset shouted.
His voice seeming to echo around the walls.
‘You have not been brought here to speak, you are here to listen and do as I tell you. You are going to be given the chance to make amends both for your miserable life and the evil which has been perpetrated by your father. You are to go to Kush and perform such duties as my brother, father of my dead friend, decides for you. Be warned, however, if I hear you have in any way disrespected him or any member of his family then I’ll have no hesitation in taking you to spend eternity with your father. Do you understand? Now you may speak, but only one word, so choose it carefully.’
‘Yes,’ replied Amenemopet in a low voice.
‘What?’ asked Haqwaset, loudly ‘I permit you to say one word, and you mumble it. What did you say?’
‘I said “Yes” Majesty,’ came the louder reply.
‘Then guard, take this wretch out of my sight, give him a bed in a cell in the barracks, somewhere where he is watched and ensure he doesn’t try to run away from his new position.’
The guard led him away. Tawy’s eyes followed him.
‘Don’t worry; no harm will come to him, so long as he behaves.’
Tawy turned quickly to look at the King and was surprised to see him smiling gently at her.
‘I’m not concerned for him, Your Majesty,’ she said, her voice trembling with nervousness. ‘I gave up on him long ago, perhaps if I had loved him more he would have turned out differently.’
‘Don’t blame yourself,’ it was Tiye who was speaking. ‘We know the circumstances of his making and it must have been very hard for you, but your eyes show you do care for him, even if you try to hide it.’
‘He is my son Majesty,’ Tawy responded, ‘as much as I try to distance myself from him, it’s not always possible. My head tells me to not love him, but in my heart I know how I carried him for nine months and suffered the pain
of bringing him into the world. For all his faults, a part of me is inside him and I can’t be completely cold towards him or his fate.’
‘His fate is in his own hands,’ Haqwaset said. ‘Yours, however, is in mine.’
Tiye glanced at her husband, his eyes told her not to be concerned. He turned his attention to Tawy.
‘Until the last few days, I knew very little about your family.’
He looked directly into Tawy’s dark brown, freshly kohled eyes.
‘I have seen your father, briefly, several times, in relation to his work, but knew nothing of his family. Suddenly, events seem to centre around them. Djoser here in the midst of everything. His daughters helping a young woman cope with the grief of losing the man who, tomorrow, was to become her husband. Then there’s you, Tawy. Married to the man who caused the death of my friend, leading the chants in the festival procession and now, here before me.’
Tawy felt as though she should be frightened; in front of her was the most powerful man in the world, who could have a life snuffed out with the click of his fingers. He appeared to be saying he was going to decide her fate, but she was not afraid. Perhaps it was the kindly face of the Queen sitting beside him, who smiled whenever their eyes met. Perhaps it was her brother, still with his arm around her shoulders, whatever it was, she was not afraid. She would accept her fate.
‘For many reasons, I’m not happy with what is happening in the great Temple of Amun,’ Haqwaset continued. ‘But that has nothing to do with you and is something I shall deal with in times to come. You have been brought here for a different purpose. A purpose which must mean you leaving the Temple.’
‘But Majesty,’ she retorted. ‘Without my singing I’m left with nothing. You may as well order my death as to banish me from the Temple and the work I love.’
‘Tawy, you must let me finish. You have a beautiful voice. Songs can make a man laugh or cry, they are very powerful. I don’t want to stop you singing. I just believe you should stop singing in honour of a god. I want you to use your voice and your heart for a much simpler, but even more important, reason. There is someone who would benefit greatly from your voice and love. A person, I only met for the first time a couple of days ago, but who is known, and I must say, loved dearly by your Queen and her parents.’
The Awakening Aten Page 34