As I walked through the communal garden back to my room, I heard the sound of someone weeping. I peered through the parted palms and only saw a fleeting glance of my father with his head buried in his hands. It tore at my heart that he missed her so.
And that I did not.
Over the next six months I divided my life. At night, I took on more of the palatial duties such as overseeing the supplies and learning about the accounting and records, along with playing with my sisters and keeping the company of my father. But during the day, I devoted my absolute attention to my studies. I had to complete these initiations to become the Osirian High Priestess.
Pentu expected me to participate in every class discussion. The answers came to me with ease, as did the understanding of hieroglyphics and the demotic language. During the morning lectures, I transcribed my father’s notes onto a papyrus sheet. Later they would be rewritten by one of the court scribes in a more elegant style and kept in a safe place until the completion of the new library. Father continued his work on the Hymn to Aten, and I made suggestions about all the plants, fields, and animals to which the Aten’s loving rays extended.
“What is the meaning of the ankh?” asked The Magistrate, pointing to each Neophyte.
“Eternity,” replied Ra-Awab.
“The breath of life,” added Keshtuat, flipping a braid. Rennutet meekly raised her hand. “The power of regeneration.”
“The life-giving elements of water and air,” said Smenkhkare.
“A mirror?” asked Djet-Ra, “Because ankh also means mirror.”
“The loop of the ankh is the womb and the long base is the penis,” said Sarawat with a blush.
“The representation of physical and eternal life,” said Archollos with bold confidence.
Everyone had a turn. “Well, those are the definitions of the uninitiated,” said Pentu.
“I know,” I said, and waved. I love the ankh, oh, please let me answer. Pentu gave me a look that told me he wanted to reveal the answer. But I loved to share my passion of this knowledge. And so I did.
“The loop is the primordial form of being. The vertical line means emanation and the horizontal line is manifestation. So this is a symbol for divine manifestation. It means eternity in the manifest form, or the incarnation of the light of the Aten.”
Pentu nodded. “Exactly.”
Did I see Keshtuat grimace? Did Ra-Awab really roll his eyes? What did that mean? I answered the question for them and saved them from the embarrassment of not knowing the proper answer. Why would they feel anger? My feet burned again. I did a crow hop.
I’m sure they hadn’t yet received the talk from Pentu about keeping the harmonious vibration toward me. I would remind Pentu to explain this to them the way he had for me. At the end of class Pentu motioned for me. I stood.
“Your Highness, your Grand Djedti Ti-Yee and her youngest daughter, Beket-Aten have arrived. It would please your father if you could attend to them. Your father and I will join you for dinner when we are finished with court duties. I have alerted the cook to prepare something of a celebratory nature.” Pentu put his arm around me and steered me out of the room to discuss Grand Djedti and her health.
“Is she all right?” I asked.
“She is as feisty as ever, but she does seem more frail. Let us give her a warm welcome tonight.”
“Thank you, Pentu.”
“Your Highness.” Pentu lowered his voice and stepped close. “It would be quite permissible with the class if you did not trouble yourself to answer every question. I will know that you could have answered, but it might be wise to allow others the opportunity.”
I frowned. “I do not understand. I learned the correct answer from my father years ago. I thought they could learn the way I did, from someone who knew.” It felt like my feet were on fire. Why did the Celestial Lords permit extreme knowledge in all subjects except how to deal with people?
“Your class may not appreciate that you have all the answers,” he said, and touched my hair. “They may believe your ego is too big.”
“Impossible. I just want to share what I learned.” My lip quivered. “My devotion to the Aten teachings makes it hard to contain.”
He nodded with appreciation. I turned to leave.
“Oh,” he whispered, “your Grand Djedti prefers the soft dates and a glass of honey wine by her bedside at night. Add some lettuce oil to the wine to ease her nerves.”
“Thank you for letting me know.”
* * *
Ti-Yee sat upon the throne she brought from Thebes. “Merit-Aten, do not dawdle. Come closer so that I may see you. My eyes are not as strong as they once were.”
Although two muscled men fanned her with elegant ostrich feathers and three female attendants waited upon her every need, the corners of her mouth turned down. This constant scrutiny and dissatisfaction was etched into the history of her face. Beket-Aten and Ankhi giggled as they played with dolls in the corner.
I placed crossed hands over my collar bone and bowed. “Grand Djedti, Homage to the Per Aat.”
“Yes, yes, come closer,” she demanded.
I never knew if she would expect me to honor protocol or abandon excess perfunctory greetings. The most regaled woman in the land reached forward and grabbed my hand, yanking me close to her face. She examined my hair, eyes, eyebrows, and mouth with those hard eyes before turning her inquisitiveness down the untraveled road of my body.
“You have blossomed fair. Very nice, indeed, for a ten-year-old.” She released me. I faltered before regaining my balance.
“Thank you, Grand Djedti.”
“I hear you chose the path of a Neophyte. How have you progressed in your studies? Is this new Aten Mystery School to your liking?”
She measured her words like salt into morning bread, and gave no indication as to which answer would please her. If she asked because she didn’t support me, then I would assuage her, or would she share my joy if she, too, believed this to be the path for me?
“I work hard,” I answered.
“Umph,” she said, and jerked her jaw up to emphasize her response.
“You do realize that it is a perilous path. Not all Neophytes live to tell their tales.”
I cocked my head. “What do you mean?”
“It means that the path you chose is fraught with danger. They may not have disclosed all the pitfalls to you yet, but mark my words. Your class will only get smaller.”
I shuffled with discomfort. “Well, a few have already been asked to leave.”
“Consider them lucky to have walked out. Take care; you may not be as fortunate.”
I reeled back. Sweat beaded my brow. I struggled to breathe “Do you mean I could west?”
Grand Djedti wrinkled her nose. “Well, if you receive the light of the Aten that will keep you safe, as long as you remember what you have been taught.”
“We learn sacred geometry, sacred architecture, metaphysics, healing arts, initiatic science, astronomy and then recitations of the Liturgy. How could that be dangerous?”
“Maybe it has not been dangerous here, but where do you go next?”
I shrugged. “I have not been informed that we would be going anywhere.”
She tilted her head. “You must have realized that you would be expected to take the initiations at each temple along the Nile. Surely, all this was explained to you.”
That caught me by surprise. “No, I had no idea we would leave Akhet- Aten.”
Ti-Yee gave a knowing wink. “Just wait until you go to the Temple of Heliopolis.”
That was Pentu’s temple where he had learned magic. “Will that one be the most difficult?”
“I have high aspirations for you, but as for your friends, I would not bother to learn much about them.”
My shoulders hunched and my stomach roiled. “I do not really have friends.”
“It does not surprise me. Royalty never does.” She said shooing her fanbearers away with two flicks of her hand.
“Meti!” boomed my father from the far door. “Do not fill her young head with your mischievous stories.”
“I am doing no such thing. I only inquired about how she spends her day.” She turned back to me and continued her quizzing. “Are you faring well in your new court duties without the Per Aat to supervise?”
Netri crossed his arms. “Merit-Aten has shown great fortitude taking on the responsibility of the palace. Now, the court waits. Let us be seated for dinner.” He extended his hand and helped his petite mother up from her throne.
I wished Grand Djedti had revealed what danger lay ahead for me.
I had forgotten her talent for picking out the things that would irritate me the most. That frustrated my Meti as well. Something could be so wonderful and yet Grand Djedti found the one thread to unravel the tapestry of joy.
We seated ourselves at a long, low table while the servants piled food upon platters. We had roasted goose, Grand Djedti’s favorite dish, while my younger sisters preferred the fish. Pentu, Netri, and I ate only vegetarian dishes. Father instilled this custom because he couldn’t harm animals. I witnessed countless times when he rescued spiders, toads and butterflies by instructing attendants to take the tiny beings outside and free them.
After we finished dinner, Pentu excused himself to attend some patients.
Grand Djedti made an announcement. “I have gifts from the foreign dignitaries, along with some of my own presents.” She clapped her hands and in walked her personal staff with carts of wonderful items. A team of shining horses, a beautiful tent with ten flags in different colors, ten peacocks and hens, a camel, a herd of sheep and goats, fat geese, a flock of doves, a falcon, and boxes of gold and jewelry.
An attendant arrived, leading a baby gazelle.
I squealed because it looked so cute, but Meket suddenly seemed cheerful and said, “I want that.” The attendant placed the baby gazelle in her arms. Meket smiled for the first time that day.
“Where is mine?” Ankhi demanded.
An attendant headed toward Ankhi with a monkey clothed in a bright yellow sheath, a golden necklace, and a tiny red hat. It chattered.
Ankhi clapped. “A monkeeeeeeee!”
The little charmer climbed upon her shoulder and imitated her. I giggled. Lift your hat, little one.
The primate squeaked and removed its cap to the cheers of all. Ankhi laughed. All the animals made a cacophony of sound, and my attention jerked from one to the other.
I hopped up. “There must be something in here for Netri.” I spied a beautiful wrapped large box with his name upon it and picked it up.
The box was heavy. I shook it; nothing rattled so I laid it before him and, wanting to surprise him, I yanked off the top. An angry cobra reared its head, spreading its hood as a vicious warning.
I shrieked, and the cobra rotated its head to look at me, hissing and baring its fangs. The donkey scooted back and pushed its cart into the handler. The alarmed animals sensed the danger and ran amok. The screeching hawk flew up in the air, unable to escape because of the long leather cord attached to its claw. My mouth grew dry. Reptiles never listened to me, but I tried anyway.
Hello. I will not hurt you.
The flock of turtle doves took flight. The cobra snapped at them and missed.
“Kill it,” demanded Grand Djedti. Guards rushed in with spears and swords, ready to attack the venomous cobra. I reached for the lid of the box to use as a shield, and suddenly an image of Sit-Amun placing the snake in the box flashed through my mind.
“No,” said my father. “Merit, stay still.” He took the red beaded scarf and waved the kerchief at the cobra. The snake turned toward him with a hiss. He dropped the scarf at his feet and kneeled before the snake poised to strike.
My father took a stance of utter vulnerability and gentleness, and when he made contact with the eyes of the snake, a transmission exchanged between them. Father projected a light from his eyes into the snake’s, and the reptile reacted by withdrawing its hood and easing downward into a coil. The Pharaoh extended his hand and verily did that snake wind its way toward him. He picked it up, sweetly kissed the snake’s head as he would a baby, all the while whispering to it softly.
“There will be no further danger. Release the poor creature back into the desert.” My father shifted to hand the pet off to an attendant, but no one would come forward to accept the gift. “Ah,” said Netri, and without hesitation, he placed the snake back into the box.
My father had not panicked. He took charge of the situation yet he also considered the well-being of the snake. How did he do this? He not only mesmerized the snake, he mesmerized the entire room of attendants who now bowed low before him. Their hands stretched out in subservience to the all powerful, all purposeful, all loving Pharaoh.
The guard prostrated himself. “Your courage puts us all to shame, I am your guard and you inspire me.”
“It is nothing. Any of you could do the same. Could we now restore order to this chaos? I think the animals would feel more comfortable in the royal aviary and the new zoo. And here, for your efforts, please make sure all the attendants are well cared for tonight.” My father pulled a bag of riches from the cart and handed it to the guard.
When all the animals were corralled and led away, and my younger siblings were put to bed, my father, Grand Djedti, and I strolled out onto the patio.
“So, they are still trying to assassinate me?” asked Father with a strange look of surprise.
“Did you think the Amunites’ hatred of you would vanish just because you moved away from the city?” asked Ti-Yee. “I should have ordered that all packages be opened and checked.” Tears dripped down her face,
“It happened so suddenly. This could have been a disaster.”
“Netri, Sit-Amun did this.” I grabbed his sleeve. “I saw it.”
Netri stared at the ground. “That would not surprise me. She will never stop, I suppose.”
“I should never open boxes from strangers. I am sorry, Netri. I forgot. We all received such wondrous things; I wanted something to delight you because you always give so much.”
“There are no accidents,” he said. “The will of the Aten protected me and restored the harmony. Just as it should be. We did not need to kill anything; we only needed to bring the power of the Aten through us to heal all things.”
Grand Djedti Ti-Yee raised a fist. “I will make her pay for this. I have had enough of her antics. You, or your daughter, could have died tonight.”
“But we did not, Mother. Please do not retaliate. Then others will die and I could not bear that.”
“You all should go away, take some time at the sea. It would be good for the family,” advised Grand Djedti.
Father shook his head. “I cannot go because I have to oversee all the new buildings, the masons and the artists. But, I have pondered about the right time to send Merit-Aten and her class away to study.”
“Really, Netri? We will be taking a trip? Where to?” I asked.
“To the Temple of Heliopolis.”
A stoic man with brown eyes stood before me dressed in the rainment of the High Priest of Heliopolis. Collecting myself, I glided to him with an air of confidence, wanting to make a favorable impression upon this important figure. As my father reminded me, I represented the crown and must act in accordance.
Shadow of the Sun (The Shadow Saga) Page 32