“Merit-Aten, you know the words. Say them now,” Netri commanded.
Instead, I froze.
That Apepi screeched right toward me. It undulated in dizzying maneuvers and those red eyes penetrated my soul.
“Hurry, Beloved, you must say those words,” said Netri as he pleaded with his eyes.
I cowered against the boathouse wall then crawled inside. My fingernails scraped the golden paint. My chin shook. I couldn’t face that demon. My magic just wasn’t strong enough to exterminate this legendary adversary.
“Pentu!” yelled Father. “Your staff! Bring the Atenic light through it! I shall try to find the prayer she used.”
Pentu thrust up the rod. “Curse you Apepis. Come here, you flying river rats. I will scale you then send you tail first back to the underworld!” He swung that staff and slammed the beast into the water.
I gasped at his outburst as I peered through a crack in the deckhouse. Showers of blue rain from the cosmos penetrated the ashy skies and created a protective womb around each spirit as the barge trudged through the thick river. The sky lit up and the piercing screeches of the impaled snakes fell into the abyss making violent waves. They slapped the Nile with angry tails, forcing the water to overturn us.
Our barge rocked from side to side. The nausea and motion sickness returned. I retched but my stomach was empty so the pains racked my body. Sweat dotted my forehead. Bitterness burned my throat. The waves splashed on deck. My father and Pentu braved the watery force as they engaged in a battle to the death with the last of the determined Apepis.
Meti clung to a table. “Merit-Aten, get down low and hang on.” I had failed. This new horror was all my fault. How did I ever think I could restore peace to Khemit and save my family when I endangered them? Covering my face, I sank to the depths of despair. The Celestial Lords should never have picked me.
The Helmsman cracked a whip. “Row!”
We picked up speed as we raked through the choppy water, leaving the monsters behind. As we neared the curve of the river, the boathouse door opened and there stood Netri and Pentu, drenched and shivering. They breathed a relieved sigh.
“Daughter, The Calling Forth of the Wested is dangerous. We cannot free souls in this quantity. They will kill us.” Netri’s eyes narrowed, his face tight.
“The Apepians?”
“No, the Amunites. You broke an ancient custom, one that forbids the Sesh into Amentii.”
“You could not have known the consequences, but we all could have perished,” said Pentu.
I was astonished. “The Sesh cannot go to the heavenworld? I am sorry. I only tried to help. I just wanted to free the wested.”
“Magic is precarious. You are too young to be dabbling in things you cannot understand,” replied Father as he crossed his arms.
The Master Oarsman hollered, “Mycenaean trade vessel off the starboard bow!”
“Pentu, we should see if they need help,” said Netri.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” replied the physician.
They raced to the right side of our barge. I peeked out the deckhouse window. A foreign midsized three-masted ship was thrust out of the water like a giant fish flopping upon the land. How could a ship snap in two like a dried carob pod? The stern sunk into the murky depths and bloated red-tuniced soldiers stained the waters.
“Too late. All have wested,” cried the Helmsman as we sailed by this devastation. I had heard of Mycenae but had never seen their people.
As our barge pulled into dock, the fishermen waded into the waist-high waters to drag the ropes to shore. Men on rafts hauled out the corpses and stacked them high. I covered my nose and mouth with my linen wrap to avoid the stench and flies. An arm floated by.
“Merit-Aten, step into this boat and you will be rowed ashore. Hasten,” Meti said.
“Pentu and Ra-Mesu will take you to Karnak to make a royal appearance while I attend to the Aten blessing of the wested at the Gem-pa-Aten,” said Netri. “Take guards for protection. With so much unrest in the streets, men do foolish things. The Sesh must know we are alive.”
We took a palanquin to the temple. For the first time, the disharmony among the Amun priests toward us became evident. We received no welcoming looks; instead they met us with angry whispers and judging eyes. Their resentment appeared as heavy as the ash. Grasping their amulets, some uttered protection prayers while others held their ankhs out to curse us.
They believed we caused this earthcrack and wave. Superstitions could turn sheep into wolves. When in fear, people emerged as the victims of every ill thing within their own lives. We rode past white-sheathed men and a gob hit my face. He spat at me.
“Longhead,” he sneered.
I whimpered and wiped the goo from my cheek, trying to hide my embarrassment. How did I bring on this woe? Longhead? Could he have meant me? Tortured with humiliation, the elusive knife of words plunged into me. I refused to look at anyone, fearing I would suffer their condemnation.
Pentu-Aten wrapped his arm about me while General Ra-Mesu thrust out his chest and stared them down. It was the Amunites who attacked the Ben Ben stone, which broke the grid of harmony of all Khemit. Why blame me or my family for their sorrows?
Meti pulled me close, and the guards surrounded us.
As we moved deeper into the inner realms of Karnak, the Amun priests herded a group of men, women and children bound in chains into cages.
Temple workers flogged and cursed them. Covered in ash, they looked like tortured souls walking the ends of earth.
Many had patches of black skin peeking through the filth, while others had yellow skin. Something glistened. A beacon of light in a dark sea of ashen faces. A child, just a wing’s tip older than I, marched along. The boy with eyes the color of azure glanced at me not even long enough to be counted as a moment. However, those eyes I would never forget.
I tugged her sleeve. “Meti, what are they doing to them?”
“I do not know.” She clapped her hands. The head guard, a tall rugged man, greeted us.
“Yes, Mistress of the Land, how may I serve you?” he said and prostrated himself with hands flung out.
“Why are these people bound?” asked Meti.
“Slaves, my Lady,” replied the guard.
“What will happen to them?” she asked.
“They will either be sold as house servants to the Amun officials or they will…” His voice trailed off. I strained to hear. The guard caught himself.
“Will what?” demanded Meti. “These poor souls will be offered to Amun,” said Ra-Mesu.
Pentu-Aten sat forward and said, “Heka maintains the divine order by using the creative force that permeates all living things. But I have a feeling he means the black magic rites of the secret sect.”
“Explain,” said Meti.
“The sacrificial slaves will be hit with the Hammers of Amun. Then their pineal glands will be consumed in a ritualistic feast,” said Pentu with a look of disgust.
I stammered, “Why would anyone want to eat a human?”
“Ingesting of the pineal gland brings eternal life,” said Pentu.
“The Hanuti tell these slaves they will receive great honors in the afterlife for having given this pathetic life to Amun,” said Ra-Mesu with a sneer.
“Absurd,” Meti snapped, her body now rigid with rage. “You there, slave trader.” She pointed her finger at the short man wrapped in a loincloth who wielded his flogger with menace. “Let these people go.”
The man turned to her, his expression fearless and disrespectful. “I serve Amun. I captured these slaves by my own hands. The scourge of Khemit do not own land nor pay taxes, so by the law of Amun they have no rights. We rounded up these scavengers before they could commit crimes upon our people.”
Meti walked toward the prisoners with head held high. “And what crimes did this elder commit?” she pointed to a Nubian woman. “How many citizens of Khemit has she beaten? What about all these children?” “Orphans now, the lot of t
hem,” replied the slave trader. I caught up with Meti and showed her the boy whose eyes penetrated my soul.
Meti marched to the barefoot boy in a torn red tunic. “What crime has this fledgling been accused of?”
“Found swimming near that shipwrecked trade vessel. He cannot even speak our tongue. Mycenaean barbarians might murder us in our sleep and steal our consorts,” argued the slave trader, his veins bulging in his fury.
“Bring him forward,” Meti ordered.
The slave trader grabbed the boy and threw him at our feet. The child glared at us, showing no fear. I admired his courage in the face of certain death.
“I do not believe this little Mycenaean will break into a demesne,” said Meti.
“Most of the barbarians drowned, but I pulled this imp out of the Nile.”
“Verily, I claim this child and the rest will go free with my blessings,” she stated. “I shall remove them so they cannot commit any crimes.” The slave trader quaked. “I cannot show up before the Amun priests empty-handed.”
Meti heaved a bag of gold at him. “Consider yourself paid. Free them. In fact, escort them to the Gem-pa-Aten.”
“Who are you?” Pentu asked the boy in perfect Mycenaean.
The boy locked his arms with defiance. “Archollos from Mycenae.”
Archollos. What a beautiful name. He had to be at least eleven. The same age that Meti had chosen Father.
“Let us make a swift appearance then return to the Malkata Palace,” Meti ordered. “Tonight, we must gather the Council. Maybe we can salvage this.”
* * *
Netri summoned his council of twelve advisors to his Reception Chamber within his personal palace, which showed no damage. At dusk, I joined Meti, Grand Djedti Ti-Yee, and Ay. In came Ra-Mesu, my father’s general council, Pentu-Aten Chief Physician to the court, Imhotep, the Master Architect, Horemheb, the new Army General, Ib-Ra, the General Counsel of the Lower Lands, Parrenefer, True Confidant to the Ruler, Nahkt, personal counsel, and Pa-Nesy, personal fan-bearer. They seated themselves in the circle of high-backed chairs before us, leaving one empty.
At that moment Amaret burst through the door. Her cool black skin contrasted with that kinky grey hair. And those eyes, those cloudy blue eyes, so alluring yet frightening. Her bare feet padded across the stone floor.
“Amaret-Aten, The Mistress of the Two Eyes, we are blessed by your presence,” said Father. He held her gaze, a bit too long. My mother shifted with discomfort. “I summoned you forth this seventy-third day of my first Regnal Year. My heart is saddened that the Hanuti broke Khemit with their ill-fated attempt to steal the Ben Ben stone.
“They damaged our energy grid, causing fire to fall from the skies, earthcracks to break our realm, and tremendous waves to wash away the foundations of all we have built. This should not be my inheritance from my father, nor from my Grand Elder, Tuthmosis IV. I prayed for an age of peace and prosperity. Yet within the first year of my reign, my beloved city lies in ruins.”
Horemheb with his fist raised said, “Let us make a stand, to right that which was wronged.”
Outside a distant choir of croaking frogs sang a disharmonious melody.
“Murder, deceit, corruption, rape of the innocent, greed, and thievery run rampant among the religious leaders who determine the destiny of Khemit,” agreed Ib-Ra.
“Today we rescued slaves bound for ritual sacrifice,” I said.
“They rounded up our citizens and then claimed them as slaves,” said Meti.
Ra-Mesu rose up like a tower of stone, his eyes cold and unemotional. Although he’d supported the Amun priests, he honored his pledge to Grand Djedti to protect the royal family. Everyone knew he shouldn’t be crossed.
“Your Majesty,” said Pentu as he laid both hands over his collar bone and bowed. “Women, men and children would have met certain death at the hands of the priests.” Our physician always presented the most disheartening news with composure.
“But those dark rituals were prohibited by even your own father, Pharaoh Amunhotep,” said Pa-Nesy, his black wooly hair now beaded with sweat.
Netri stroked his cheek and pondered the accusation. “I shall forbid the Hanuti from these acts. I will not tolerate the slaughter of the innocent while I am Pharaoh.” The violet golden lights glowed around the crown of his head, signifying his connection to the Aten.
“They will just hide it in the bowels of their secret chambers. It still would have been veiled but the flooding Nile forced the slave trader to change his usual route and get caught,” said Amaret. She, the secret inner eye, the treasured yet feared Mistress of the Unseen Knowings.
“I shall abolish them completely,” said Netri.
“Shemati, The Radiant One, could you speak up? The bullfrogs must be mating and I am having difficulty hearing. How do you propose we abolish that?” asked Pentu.
“How can we impose peaceful measures upon those who act with such vile heartedness?” asked Ib-Ra, who strained to speak over the croaking outside.
“I propose the abolishment of the worship of Amun. If we dismantle the priesthood and close their temples, they will no longer practice these black rites.” Netri said it with a graceful spread of his hands to imply the simplicity. A stunned silence spread among us.
If we got rid of the Amunites, then we would have peace. Everyone could worship the Aten. How perfect. Now all our problems were solved. “Shining One, corruption keeps the temples going,” said Pa-Nesy, raising his voice.
“Eliminating the Amunites means civil war,” said Nakht, who covered his ears to eliminate the nose of croaking frogs.
Horemheb pounded his chest. “Every soldier will be utilized during the coming unrest.”
“Order must be maintained. Careful planning will serve us well. The Sesh loyal to the Aten must be accountable to us,” said Ra-Mesu.
“Then we agree. I decree that as of this day I condemn the worship of Amun; further I abolish all temples. Verily, all mention, whether verbal or written in stone, of the name Amun will be abolished. The very vibration of that name carries chaos and darkness. We must cleanse the land of all impurity.” My father’s voice rang strong and true.
“Are you asking us to take chisel to stone and cut out the name Amun?” asked Pa-Nesy, shaking.
“Why do you tremble?” asked my father in his bottomless baritone voice.
“If we obliterate the name, then Amun will die in the Duat,” stated Parrenefer, who fell to his knees and clasped his hands.
Why did these two men of great strength cower before Father? Why would a name hold such power?
Netri smiled. “Ah, so the destruction of a superstition scares you?”
“How can you change a century-old tradition without causing a complete uprising among the followers?” asked Ra-Mesu, who glanced toward the courtyard and spoke louder.
Ti-Yee interjected, “Loyal subjects, I shall verify that no one can desecrate the spirit by obliterating the essence. We share this holy truth. Clear away the cobwebs of a superstition. By destroying a name, you do not destroy the spirit. Rest assured.”
“I do not believe in the power of Amun,” said Netri. “The Amun priesthood created the Duat so that the souls of the mummified remain bound to their bodies and cannot escape this earthly prison.”
As one, the council cried out, “No, how can this be?”
Shadow of the Sun (The Shadow Saga) Page 17