The Amarnan Kings, Book 1: Scarab - Akhenaten

by Overton, Max

"I want to be queen. I want my daughter out of his bed. I want...I want to humiliate him."

  "You can probably achieve some of that. As you know, in Kemet, men and women are equal before the law. He can petition the courts for a divorce but they will not automatically grant it if you contest it. He may be the king but he is not above the law. Without a divorce, you technically remain the queen. I put it to you though, that you may not want the position. He can humiliate you, slighting you in public, flaunting Meryetaten as his chosen wife."

  "Stop him bedding my daughter."

  "That cannot be done. There is ample precedent that allows a king as many wives as he chooses, from wherever he chooses. Kings regularly marry their sisters and the last one married his daughters. And when it comes to lust, a man's member speaks louder than reason. You will not change the king's mind."

  "Then help me humiliate him."

  "Can you be more precise, daughter? Humiliate him, how? He is already regarded with scorn by our country's enemies and friends alike for his foreign policies, he is hated by the priests who are slowly building the strength to rebel, and he is hated and feared by almost everyone outside Akhet-Aten. The country is racked by disease and famine, cut-throats roam the land unhindered and the people are not even allowed the solace of the gods. Only the army is still loyal, despite his efforts to disband them, largely because of Paatenemheb. He will not break his oath."

  "Then I cannot even humiliate him," Nefertiti said dully.

  Ay shrugged. "What would you do if you could? Make him appear a fool? Render his rule impotent?" He licked his lips and glanced across the room to the doorway, lowering his voice to a whisper. "Overthrow him?"

  Nefertiti stared at her father. "That is treason."

  "There are none to hear us." A buzzing, whirring sound came from the window and the two of them swung round as something large and ponderous flew in, across the room, hitting the wall and dropping onto the bed. Ay laughed nervously, relief making him overloud. "A scarab beetle. It is only Khepri."

  "The gods themselves hear us," Nefertiti whispered.

  Ay raised an eyebrow in surprise. "You still believe in the gods? I thought you were besotted with the Aten like your husband."

  "It was a pleasant enough philosophical exercise, father. It made a lot of sense, but as usual, Akhenaten has taken things too far. It hurts Kemet now."

  "Indeed it does, daughter. I am glad to see you have come to your senses. Now, back to my original question--what do you seek to do? Shame him or remove him?"

  "Remove? I...I would not have his life on my hands."

  "Who said anything about that? The question is, daughter, what would you do afterward? Say you locked him up for his own safety--would you seek to rule in his stead? Pass the kingship on to another?"

  "If I passed it on, I negate my own position as queen. I would rule."

  Ay smiled, stroking his chin. "I see. Alone or with a man? A man would gain you more acceptance. Remember the lesson of Hatshepsut."

  Nefertiti snorted. "What man is there, capable of rule? I have been queen for fourteen years, ruling alongside my husband. Would you have me bring in an untested boy like Smenkhkare as king?"

  "What of myself, daughter? I am already powerful and have effectively been ruling Kemet these last few years."

  "You? I suppose you would immediately act like the king and marry your daughter. I think not, father."

  Ay grimaced. "You may be beautiful, Nefertiti, but I have no desire to bed my daughters. Neither you nor Mutnodjme excite me in the slightest."

  "Mutnodjme! I have not heard from her in years. How is she, father?"

  "Do not change the subject." He looked at his daughter, past the now-strained beauty to the little girl he remembered, growing up with her sister in Zarw, before he started his rise to power in the days of Amenhotep. He relented his harsh tone, adding softly, "She is well, but she will not stir from the estates outside Zarw. She sends her greetings, as always."

  "And I mine, father. Tell her when next you see her."

  "So what about it? Will you accept my strength, daughter? You rule Kemet from the throne; I rule it with the help of the army from behind the scenes."

  "The army would help you? I thought you said Paatenemheb was loyal."

  "He is, but when he is presented with the fact, he will go along with it. I am commander of the local garrison. I could disarm the Medjay and capture the palace. We force Akhenaten to publicly abdicate, naming you as his successor until such time as you can find a suitable husband. With my influence, the nobles, the priests and the people will accept you. What do you say?"

  "When?"

  "As soon as possible. Before Smenkhkare can get up here. Say two weeks, the night of the new moon, at midnight?"

  "What about Smenkhkare? Will he be a problem?"

  Ay smiled. "I think I can handle an untested youth. And if he proves intractable, well," he shrugged. "There are alternatives. So, you agree to two weeks?"

  "That simple?"

  "Of course not. There is a lot to plan. We cannot afford for anything to go wrong or for the king or those loyal to him to catch wind of this. But two weeks allows us enough time. Are we agreed?"

  Nefertiti stared at her father's power-hungry look. She felt a moment's qualm, but forced it down. Nodding, she said just one word, "Agreed."

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  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  I would like to say I acted calmly, like the adult I had become, but in hindsight I did not act, I reacted, to the news of the queen's dismissal and the possible fate the king had in store for me.

  When I arrived in Akhet-Aten with my mother Tiye, I was simply Scarab, a small child on the brink of adolescence, thrust into the company of my royal cousins, a seemingly tight-knit family with no apparent pretensions of their exalted position. Then Meketaten died, the plague swept through Kemet, my mother succumbed on her way back to Waset and I found myself adopted by Akhenaten and Nefertiti as one of their 'garland of daughters'. This adoption was presaged by my presence in the great procession of Akhenaten's Heb-Sed festival where I took the place of the sick Meketaten. I saw the inscriptions later that recorded all six of the king's daughters present at the festival. In the eyes of almost everyone, I was already indistinguishable from the other princesses. I grew up fast, responsibility thrust upon me, and I became a woman. Or rather, I thought I became a woman. How far short I fell was only made apparent to me in those days and nights following the full moon of Nefertiti's withdrawal from the palace.

  The night of the withdrawal I accompanied the queen and her two younger daughters to the North Palace, unsure of what was happening, but the emotions of those around me catching me up in the chaos. Then Nefertiti called me into her presence and told me of the danger I was in, and of her own predicament before dismissing me. I went to the bedchamber set aside for me and lay down on the bed in the darkened room, but I could not sleep.

  I thought about my beloved Smenkhkare and what it would mean to him, to me--to us, if he became co-regent. I knew he had promised to make me his queen but if Akhenaten gave him his daughter Meryetaten to be his queen, he would have to agree, and where would that leave me? But wasn't Meryetaten now Akhenaten's queen? She could not be the wife of both men. In our Kemet, a king may have more than one wife, but a queen could not have two husbands.

  What would the Tjaty Ay do when he found out? He was undoubtedly the most powerful man in Kemet, probably more powerful even than the king, seeing as how Akhenaten kept himself locked away in his city of the Aten, refusing to think about the troubles of the outside world. And he was Nefertiti's father. The history of our family is filled with intrigue--husband against wife, brother against sister, mother and son, father and daughter--it is that way, I suppose, in any royal house. So it was not a given fact that Ay would side with his daughter. If he did, then what? Could he use his power to force the king to recant? Nefertiti would remain queen but then Smenkhkare would have to marry Mer
yetaten. And if Ay sided with the king? Then all was chaos but my beloved was mine. Could I put my happiness ahead of Kemet's?

  I had to know. I could not lie here in the dark, torturing myself. I would go to the queen and wait with her for her father. I got up and stood naked in the silvery light of the nearly-full moon streaming through my window and thought about my course of action. If I went to the queen after being dismissed by her, she would send me back to bed. For all that I thought of myself as an adult--I lovingly stroked the newly formed curves of my naked body--in her eyes I was still a child. At twelve I was old enough to marry but I was younger than her eldest daughter. I could not go to her tonight.

  What then? I was determined to know what the most powerful man and woman in Kemet intended. Could I ask a servant? A slave? Would any be allowed near enough to eavesdrop on what would be a highly charged conversation? Very unlikely but...the thought came crashing back in upon me. Eavesdrop. Could I somehow overhear their conversation? I felt guilty at the thought. I do not know how it is in other lands, but in Kemet we value our privacy, even in the presence of others. The king and queen could talk, perform bodily functions or even make love in the presence of servants yet the servants would ignore what was going on, shutting out sights and sounds. To deliberately spy on others was extremely bad manners. I had been brought up better than that.

  I put on a kilt and a shoulder wrap and left my room, moving cautiously through the unfamiliar corridors of the Northern Palace. The paintings on the walls were more complex, the colours brighter and the furnishings more sumptuous than anything I had seen in the main palace. Few servants were around as the hour was close to midnight; those that were hurried about their business, wanting their beds. Few torches burned and I was able to use the deep pools of shadow to tip-toe cautiously toward Nefertiti's apartments. It was as well I was cautious as I failed to see the guard until I was almost on him. I froze, my heart pounding loud enough for him to raise the alarm.

  When after a few moments I saw he had neither heard nor seen me, I slipped carefully, very carefully back. Moving in the shadows I put several more paces between us, and then the sound of footsteps sent me scurrying behind an ornate gilded chair.

  Ay strode along the corridor toward me. He is a short man, thickset, no more than my own height though I am not yet finished my growth; yet he exuded power. His head, rounded, showed his age quite clearly as his once-shaven skull was now covered with short white stubble, his face creased and lined, his eyes hard and unyielding. I remembered that he was my mother's elder brother and father to Nefertiti, who was now nearly thirty-five years.

  He passed me without a sideways glance and continued up the corridor to where the guard, stepping from his shadowed alcove, challenged him.

  "See we are not disturbed."

  "Yes, Lord Ay." The guard saluted and stepped back into his recess, now fully alert. I knew I could not get past him.

  I withdrew myself, back to my room where I sat on my bed and pondered the problem of gaining access to the queen's apartments. Then I remembered the garden. Both her room and mine faced west, toward the river, with a small garden bordering both. Maybe I could use the cover of night and the shrubbery to get close enough to hear.

  Climbing over the window sill, I let myself down carefully into the bushes and squatted there for a minute, listening. All I could hear was a murmur of sound from the North Wharf area and the minute sounds of animals. I heard a slow rustle from the dry leaves near me and my mind at once thought of snakes. This was a royal palace; it was quite possible that Wadjet, the coiled cobra of the king waited in the dark, ready to strike at the enemies of Kemet. But I was not an enemy.

  "I am Beketaten, daughter of Nebmaetre Amenhotep, and sister of Neferneferure Waenre Akhenaten, and before the gods of Kemet I do no evil," I whispered, holding my hand low to the earth. The rustling ceased and I knew Wadjet would let me live.

  Bent double, I ran across the open ground to the bushes under Nefertiti's window and hid, pressing up close to the stonework, my head just below the sill. I could hear a murmur of voices, but indistinct. I would need to get closer. I stood, keeping to the corner of the window and peeped over the edge.

  Ay stood near his daughter in the middle of the room, drinking wine from a cup. I thought I could detect the faint aroma of spices from the wine jug and guessed it was the spiced Syrian wine the queen favored.

  "Help me humiliate him," Nefertiti said; her voice low and vicious.

  Her father laughed and drank from his cup. "How would you have me do this? His enemies and friends alike scorn him for his foreign policy; the priests hate him, as does almost everyone outside of Akhet-Aten. Our country suffers and the people are not even allowed the solace of free worship. Only the army is loyal, because of Paatenemheb. He will not break his oath."

  "Then I cannot do that?"

  "What would you do? Make him appear a fool? Render him impotent?" Ay leaned forward and lowered his voice so I missed what he said next, and Nefertiti's response. I strained to hear and my foot slipped, shaking the bushes. A large scarab, motionless on a leaf, took flight, lifting its horny wing covers and launching itself into the lighted room. It hit the far wall and fell onto the bed.

  Ay laughed; the sound overly loud after the whispers, his mirth scraped raw with inner tension. "It is only a scarab. Khepri."

  Nefertiti must have said something because Ay asked incredulously, "You still believe in the gods?"

  I dropped back down into the shrubbery, my heart thumping wildly. I breathed deeply, calming myself and when I dared to put my head up again the conversation had taken on a sinister aspect.

  "Will you accept my strength, daughter?" Ay growled, his voice low and dripping with a lust that sent shivers along the hairs of my arms. It spoke of a hunger, not for a woman, but for power. "You rule Kemet from the throne, I rule with the army from behind."

  I could feel my heart starting to pound again, this time from real fear. If they had found me outside the window before, I would have been shamed and lost their trust. If they found me now, I would die, for they were surely talking treason. I could feel Ay's powerful hands at my throat, crushing and breaking, and I swallowed convulsively, stifling a sob. I almost ducked away then but I thought that if it was to happen, I should know when the thunderbolt was due. I stood, to listen again.

  "I could disarm the Medjay and capture the palace. We force Akhenaten to abdicate, naming you as successor."

  "When?"

  Ay stroked his chin, his hooded eyes considering. "As soon as possible. Before Smenkhkare can get up here. Say two weeks, the night of the new moon, at midnight."

  I heard Nefertiti agree as I slipped away into the night.

  I lay in my bed that night, shivering with fear, unable to sleep. I knew enough of history to know that kings often met violent deaths and when kingdoms fell, no-one was safe. What should I do? What could I do? I was a twelve-year old girl--well, a thirteen year old woman almost, but alone. If only Smenkhkare was here; he would know what to do. Could I get word to him? Ay had said the coup was to be in two weeks time, before Smenkhkare could get here. How far away was Waset anyway? I had traveled downriver once, from Waset to Akhet-Aten by royal barge, and the trip had taken ten days. What about by land? How long would it take a messenger to get there and Smenkhkare back again? Who could I trust enough to send? I had far more questions than I had answers.

  I dozed fitfully and woke with the pre-dawn chill on my naked body. Pulling the goose feather coverlet over me, I ignored my bladder and lay in the gray light marveling that I had not thought of the answer sooner. I would take the message to Smenkhkare myself. I would travel overland to Waset and bring the tidings of the rebellion. Smenkhkare would hear it from my own lips and furthermore, I would be safe in Waset. Now all that remained was how to do it.

  Throwing off the coverlet, I ran over to the toilet and sat down, suddenly in great need. The toilet was one of the new running water designs and when I finished I li
fted the sluice gate and watched as my water was carried away.

  I dressed in a warm robe and sat by the window. The sun rose behind the palace, throwing a dark shadow clear across the river, but as I watched, the shadows moved, sweeping back toward me, the sun climbing above the eastern cliffs. The cliffs were a problem. Akhet-Aten lies in a crescent shaped plain on the eastern bank some ten thousand paces long. There are ways out of the plain but they call for a difficult passage up the valley that houses the royal tombs or past the quarries. Both routes would be guarded. That left only the river as a means of escape.

  The river meant a boat but I knew I could not hope to row upriver against the current. Perhaps across the river to the farms and villages and hire someone to row me south past the cliffs. I could then angle inland and intersect the main road running across the desert to Waset, cutting off the great loop of the river. A horse would be useful, I thought, though I had never ridden one. Nor had most Kemetus, I remembered. We use horses, but mostly to pull war or hunting chariots, seldom riding them. In fact, couriers are the only people I have seen astride a horse. Well, I could learn, couldn't I? How hard could it be? And what would it cost to hire one? I started looking around the room and in my meager belongings for valuable objects.

  I looked at the assortment of necklaces, bracelets and brooches dubiously. I had no idea of the worth of my jewelry, never having bought anything of my own. Well, it's either enough or it's not. What else am I going to need? Food and water. There are bound to be watering places, oases or something, but how far apart? A big bottle of water then, but not too big, I may have to carry it a long way. I went back to the window and sat down again, thinking hard about what I would need, until the servants came to bathe and dress me for the new day.

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  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Ay was up with the dawn and making plans. Used to rising in the pre-dawn darkness when he fulfilled his duties as a high priest of Aten in the lesser temple, he found it hard to break the habit. His duties as Tjaty and adviser to the king, as well as his myriad functions within the court now occupied his time, forcing him away from the temple.