Chapter Eighty: Ikhnaton Mourns
Guards ran into the garden from the damaged palace. They stood uncertainly and watched the Queen walk away with a strange man.
“Nefertiti!” The anguished voice of Ikhnaton was ignored by the couple, who gazed at each other in adoration as they strolled across the grass.
“Nefertiti, come back!” Ikhnaton emerged from the building, stumbling over the shattered bricks. “Don’t leave me Nefertiti. I love you.”
The King’s anguish would have melted a heart of marble but the two immortals took no notice of him. As Kiya peered between the leaves of her bush, she saw them rise slowly into the air so they were no longer walking on the ground but above it.
“What is happening? Where are you going? Please come back Nefertiti, I cannot live without you!” The King was crying so desperately that he lost his footing on the uneven grass, stumbled and fell to his knees.
Slowly and without looking back the two gods faded from view and were gone. Ikhnaton knelt where he had fallen, his head in his hands and his body racked with sobs. Kiya longed to leave her bush and console him but shrank further back into her hiding place as Dennu ran up to the King.
“What a wonderful thing, your Majesty,” he said. “A miracle has happened.”
“A miracle?” Ikhnaton raised his tear-stained face.
“Nefertiti must have been an angel sent from God himself.”
“An angel?” Ikhnaton was clinging to the words of comfort.
“Yes, your Majesty. She was sent to show you the way, the truth and the light of the Aten. Without Nefertiti, Egypt would never have worshiped the one true god.”
“I loved her,” said Ikhnaton and his tears began to flow again.
“And she loved you,” said Dennu. “But her task in this world is completed. God sent an angel to bring her back to heaven.”
“Do you really think so? Did she really love me? Why did she leave without saying goodbye?”
“Because this is not goodbye,” said Dennu. “Nefertiti will be with you always. She can no longer be seen with worldly eyes or heard with worldly ears but she is your guardian angel and will make sure no harm befalls you.”
The King looked up at Dennu, his eyes full of hope, and Kiya marvelled at his gullibility. “I will dedicate my life to the worship of the Aten. With Nefertiti watching over me I will convert the whole world to the true religion.”
Dennu bowed and then helped the King to his feet. Ikhnaton seemed rejuvenated by the thought of Nefertiti as an angel. He turned to the guards, who had been watching the drama and said, “You are the chosen ones, who have been privileged to see the exaltation of Nefertiti. She has been summoned by the Almighty to join him in heaven but she will live on in the hearts of the people of Egypt as the most beautiful of god’s angels ever to walk the earth.” He tried to smile but gave an involuntary sob and turned away so they should not see his tears. The soldiers stood bewildered.
“You may return to your positions,” ordered Dennu. The soldiers saluted him and re-entered the palace through the broken wall. “Can I escort you back to your room?” Dennu asked the King.
“Yes, please, Dennu. What a comfort you are,” said Ikhnaton. The two of them followed the soldiers and left Kiya alone in the garden.
Kiya waited behind her bush. The night air chilled her bare skin. She began to shiver and wondered what she should do. There was no getting back to the harem and any attempt at leaving the palace would alert the guards. She was beginning to think she might die of cold when she heard footsteps coming towards her. She crouched low.
“It’s safe Kiya. You can come out now.” The voice was Dennu’s and Kiya gave a gasp of relief. “I noticed that you were unclothed,” he continued, “and so I have brought a cloak for you.”
Kiya stood up and let him drape the cloak around her shoulders. “Thank you,” she said.
“Now, perhaps, you can explain to me exactly what happened here.” He put an arm around her shoulders and escorted her towards the terrace where she had first seen him.
“You mean the raising of Nefertiti to heaven?” she said.
“Only the King could think of that woman as an angel,” said Dennu. “But one thing is true. She showed him the way to the Aten.”
They climbed the steps to the terrace and Kiya saw the pillared veranda of a building with windows that overlooked the garden. “This reminds me of the architecture of Crete,” she said.
“Welcome to my house,” said Dennu. “My mother often spoke to me about the beautiful buildings of her homeland and I longed to replicate them. But how do you know about such things?”
Kiya told him how they had been captured by slave raiders. “Your father was with us and he has been chosen by the Queen to be her next consort. She is your mother’s sister, Dennu – your aunt. She recognised the armlet, which was hung around my neck and took possession of it.”
He nodded. “I noticed that you were no longer wearing it.”
They entered the house and Kiya shivered. The large windows made the living room cold.
“Come through to the inner room,” said Dennu. “You can warm yourself at the brazier.”
He escorted her to a room where there was a seating pit in which a brazier burnt. In its glow Kiya could see a bed at the far end of the room. Cushions were arranged around the pit and she sat down and opened the cloak slightly so the heat could reach her body.
“This is better,“ she sighed. “Oh Dennu, you should see how Massui has changed. He is once more the father you knew in your youth. The ice around his heart has melted away. He wanted me to tell you that he loves you.”
Dennu frowned. “I fear the transformation has come too late. You say he is to be the next King of Crete. Do you know what happens to the kings of Crete, Kiya? They are sacrificed when harvests fail.”
“I know and your father knows. He has accepted his fate willingly.”
“I do not believe it. I must go to him.”
“He would love to see you, Dennu. But put any thoughts of rescue from your mind. I tried but he would have none of it.”
Dennu sat beside her. “You keep so much from me, Kiya,” he said. “How can I be your friend when I don’t know what you are doing? Why were you running around the palace unclothed? What happened to Nefertiti? Who was that man who vanished with her?”
Kiya told him about her search for the ka of Osiris and how she had returned the soul to the god.
“Such a fantasy would be hard to believe if I had not seen it with my own eyes.”
“I hope you are not upset, Dennu.”
He looked at her and raised an eyebrow. “Why should I be?”
“Surely I was going against what you wanted,” she said. “With Nefertiti gone the Aten will be forgotten and the temples can reopen as before.”
Dennu shook his head. “The truth can never be hidden,” he said. “Whatever Isis’s motive might have been, she led Ikhnaton to the start of a new dawn for mankind.”
Kiya stared into the glow of the brazier. Had her mission been for nothing? Would the temples remain closed forever? She felt depressed.
“Are your adventures over, Kiya?” asked Dennu. Kiya nodded. “Are you ready to settle down, to be a wife and have children?” Kiya nodded again. What else had life to offer her?
“I have waited a long time to ask you this,” said Dennu. “I have loved you from the beginning. You have treated me cruelly and I have tried to fight my feelings for you, but it is no good. Beside you all other women are colourless. You are brave and beautiful and extraordinary. Will you be my wife, Kiya?”
Kiya’s depression lifted. Life with Dennu would be exciting enough to make up for all the adventures in the world. “Oh, yes, Dennu. I will make you a good and faithful wife,” she said.
He folded his arms around her and kissed her. His lips were warm and his tongue pressed into her mouth with thrilling intimacy. After a long embrace he pulled back and regarded her fondly.
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�Are you sure there are no other secrets you are hiding from me?” he said.
With a sinking heart Kiya realised that he didn’t know the biggest secret of all. “There is just one,” she said. “I am pregnant.”
Kiya and the God of Chaos Page 80