by Overton, Max
Paatenemheb closed the doors behind him and the Tjaty, whereupon Ay rushed forward into the chamber with a glad cry. He ran toward the dais then, as the guards around the thrones stepped forward, spears lowered, he threw himself to his knees, his arms high and extended toward his king.
"Divine Akhenaten, I thank the Aten that he has kept you safe. I have spent the night in an agony of worry that I would not be there beside you to ward off your enemies."
Akhenaten waved back the guards and smiled down at his Tjaty. "Ay, Divine Father, it saddens me to see you in this state. Arise and seat yourself." He snapped his fingers and a guard brought a stool, helping the old man to his feet and sitting him down facing the king.
Ay smoothed down his crumpled and stained kilt. "It grieves me to appear before you like this, my lord, but I hurried over as soon as I could, not even stopping to bathe or change my clothing. I beg your indulgence, Divine Akhenaten...and of course, my queen." He inclined his head toward his granddaughter Meryetaten who sat fidgeting on the other throne.
"He had no choice in the matter," Paatenemheb growled, coming across from the doors to stand behind Ay. "He spent the night in a cell where, if it is your judgment, I will return him."
"Thank you, General," Akhenaten said. "I am aware of your accusations, but I am here to dispense justice, not you. Now, Divine Father, you have been accused of sedition in that you did plot with my wife Nefertiti to overthrow me, and of treason in that you attempted to carry this out last night. What do you have to say to these charges?"
"Divine Akhenaten, I could no more dream of overthrowing you than I could dream of overthrowing the living Aten. You are my life and I would willingly give my life for you. If you think that I could ever rebel against your loving and beneficent rule, then execute me now and I shall go to my death singing your praises."
"No, no, no. Divine Father, cease this, I beg you. I have never doubted you for an instant. But you have been charged and I must be seen to be just to all my subjects." Akhenaten turned to where Meryetaten sat staring into space. "Is that not so, beloved wife?" Meryetaten just shrugged and started playing with a massive gold ring on her hand.
"If I might question him, Akhenaten?" Paatenemheb said, and without waiting for permission, addressed the Tjaty. "Ay, did you or did you not hold a conversation with Nefertiti, your daughter, to discuss how you might remove the king by armed force, setting Nefertiti on the throne as sole ruler and yourself as the power behind the throne?"
Ay swiveled on his stool and looked up at the powerfully built general. "I did not. I deny any such activity. Why would I do such a thing?" He turned back to the king. "My lord, you have showered gold and praise upon me in abundance. Why would I be so ungrateful?"
"There is a witness to this conversation."
Ay glanced around the Hall. "A witness?" he asked cautiously. "Then where is she?"
"She? You know the witness to be a woman before she is produced?" Akhenaten asked. "This implies you knew the witness to be there."
Ay shrugged. "A guess, my lord. I believe this witness might be your own sister Beketaten, whom we all fondly know as Scarab. A delightful child but a willful one who has fallen into bad ways recently."
"What do you mean?"
"She stole a valuable necklace from your wife Nefertiti and vanished from the city. I instituted a search for her but could find no trace. I feared she had died as her cloak was found in the river." Ay looked at Paatenemheb with a smile. "The news that she is alive gladdens my heart."
"And mine," Akhenaten added. "Though I wish somebody had told me of this before. I did not even know she was missing."
Paatenemheb snarled and came very close to Ay, leaning over him. "Beketaten told me that she overheard you and Nefertiti in the former queen's bedchamber discussing your plans."
"I deny these charges. Bring her before me and let us get to the bottom of this," Ay replied, stifling a yawn. "Where is this child?" Meryetaten also yawned but did not bother to hide it.
"Yes, Paatenemheb," Akhenaten queried. "Where is Beketaten? I would like to hear this from her own lips."
"She is not here. I left her five days ago near Ineb Hedj and came as quickly as I could, praying I would be in time. I left her in the charge of my deputy, Paramessu, to follow at their own pace. I expect them in a few days." Paatenemheb paused, then, anger creeping into his voice, went on. "That is why I wanted these proceedings delayed, my lord--so that I could assemble my witnesses."
"I'm bored," Meryetaten whined. "I want to go and see my jewels again."
Akhenaten smiled at his daughter-wife. "Soon, lotus petal. This is part of being a king and queen--listening to the cases brought before us. And this case is important. Your grandfather has been accused of a terrible crime."
"So let him off. You are king, are you not? You can do anything you want."
"That is true, but I must also do what is just. If I just let him off, people might wonder whether he truly was innocent or whether it was because he was of my family."
"I put my faith in your divine justice," Ay said piously. "But is it just that I am accused on the word of a young child and am denied the opportunity to question her myself? There is a very simple explanation for what she thinks she heard."
"And that is?" Paatenemheb growled. "You said Nefertiti would be on the throne and you the power behind her. What could you possibly mean by that, other than discussing how to divide the spoils?"
"My lord king, when you dismissed Nefertiti and banished her to the North Palace, she summoned me. Naturally I went as she is my daughter and at the time I believed her still to be the queen. Was I wrong to perform this loyal act?"
"Of course not, Divine Father. Go on."
"Alas, my daughter was very angry and shouted and screamed and said a lot of things that did not make much sense, but after a while she quieted down. It was then that she said things that disturbed me." Ay broke off his narrative and put his head in his hands and made a sobbing sound. "Divine Akhenaten, do not judge her harshly I beg you. Rather would I suffer unjustly than have my lovely daughter suffer for an injudicious word uttered in anger."
Paatenemheb started clapping slowly. "Very moving, Ay," he said sourly. "You will move us all to tears. Get on with your tale."
"Shh , Paatenemheb, let him speak. Go on, Divine Father."
Ay took a deep shuddering breath and looked up, his eyes red from rubbing, though still dry. "My lord king, she...she said...Great Father, do not force me to bear witness against my daughter. Let me bear the blame. Kill me and let her go free."
Akhenaten fluttered his hands in agitation. "No, no, Divine Father, you are becoming upset." He turned to one of the guards. "Bring wine for my Tjaty. Hurry!" He waited impatiently while the guard ran to obey the king, dropping his spear to the floor with a clatter. The guard handed Ay a cup of wine.
"Thank you, my lord," Ay said. His hand trembled as he raised the cup, spilling a few drops of wine. He drained the rest and set the cup on the floor.
"Now, Divine Father, you must go on. I charge you to tell the truth, no matter how painful it might be. I ask this of you as my beloved Father."
"For you then, great king," Ay said, his voice low. "Though it breaks my heart, I will relate to you my daughter Nefertiti's words." He paused as if gathering his strength. "My daughter asked me to help her kill you."
"No!" Akhenaten recoiled in horror. "She would not do such a thing."
Meryetaten stopped playing with her gold ring and looked up, suddenly displaying an interest in the proceedings.
Ay nodded slowly. "I regret to say it is the truth, my lord Akhenaten. She wanted to hire an assassin immediately, claiming that the people would follow her as...as she was the true founder of the worship of Aten anyway."
"Lies," Akhenaten muttered. "Lies. She always followed, never led."
"Of course, my lord. I knew that to be the truth and I immediately tried to counsel her. I managed to talk her out of hiring an assassin ..."
"Alas again, my reputation suffers through the associations I make to safeguard my king." Ay shook his head sorrowfully though he glared at the general from under his bushy eyebrows. "As I was saying, my lord, I talked my daughter out of killing you but she immediately started to tell me of her plans to seize the kingdom and imprison you. I went along with it solely to learn who her other conspirators might be."
"And were there others?"
"Yes my lord. She named Sutau, the overseer of the treasury. I know, Divine Akhenaten, I could not believe it either and except for her statement, I have no proof of his involvement."
"So when you said you would be the power behind the throne?"
"I thought if she would accept me, she would not look to others less loyal than myself. If I was trusted ..."
"Who would trust you?" Paatenemheb muttered.
"... then I would learn of her plans in good time so I could stop her. My lord, last night I was leading the city garrison to the palace to guard you against the rebels, when Paatenemheb here waylaid me and threw me in a vermin-infested cell. It is only by the grace of the living Aten that the rebellion came to nothing."
"Or perhaps I ended it by arresting the ringleaders?" Paatenemheb commented.
"A moving story," Akhenaten said. "I believe you Divine Father and I am thankful that I have such loyal ministers. Sutau disturbs me though. I never suspected him of such things."
"Nor should you now, Akhenaten. Ay is not loyal; he is a conniving backstabber who thinks nothing of betraying his own daughter to save his skin. Let me put him to the question. I will soon ascertain the truth."
"There is no need, general." Akhenaten shook his head and gestured to his father-in-law to stand. "Ay, do you solemnly swear on the living Aten and the hope you have of everlasting life in his sight that the words you have uttered tonight are true and without blemish?"
"I do, my lord king. May I be struck blind and live without the glorious sight of Aten if I have lied."
"Then that is good enough for me. No man can lie with the name of Aten on his lips." Akhenaten stood up and came down from the dais. He embraced Ay, kissing him on both cheeks. "Divine Father, I find you innocent of all charges against my person. You are reinstated without prejudice to all your positions within my government. It is my heartfelt desire that you join me at dawn tomorrow to offer up the hymn of praise in the Great Temple."
"You are not serious?" Paatenemheb broke in. "He has said nothing that can be substantiated. At least let me confront him with his daughter, or with Sutau." His fists clenched and he became red in the face. "Why did he try to kill me last night? He drew a sword on me and only the actions of my men prevented it."
"Did you, Divine Father? Is there truth in this?"
"My lord, I confess this freely for I have told the truth in all things. Yes, I drew a sword on Paatenemheb but this was only because I believed there might have been others recruited by Nefertiti that I knew nothing about. Here was a man who sought to prevent me from guarding you. For one awful minute I believed he was a traitor and I drew my sword." Ay sighed deeply. "I was one old man against a squad of professional soldiers. What could I do?"
"You acted correctly, beloved Father." Akhenaten embraced him again. "However, Paatenemheb, you are correct also. I must confront Nefertiti and find out the depths of her iniquity. Please go and bring her to me that I may judge her."
Paatenemheb controlled his anger, working his rage off by pacing the floor of the Hall of Justice. He started to say something further, to argue his case again, but he refrained. After a few moments he bowed curtly and left.
When he was gone, Ay sat down again and bowed his head. He sighed deeply. "My lord Akhenaten, please do not put me through this agony. No man should have to see his daughter condemned. Let me leave the room so that I am not unmanned with grief."
"Faithful Ay," Akhenaten raised him up and kissed him again. "Of course you have my leave to go. I would not willingly cause you pain and I promise that if I can I will be merciful to your daughter."
Paatenemheb returned within the hour with Nefertiti and a squad of soldiers. The former queen was pale but composed and though the last few weeks had aged her, adding fine wrinkles to her face and bowing her shoulders, her great beauty was still obvious. When she entered the Hall of Justice, the king sighed as he caught sight of her, his daughter-wife Meryetaten screwing up her face petulantly.
Nefertiti bowed to Akhenaten gracefully but aside from a slight inclination of her head, did not acknowledge her daughter on the other throne. "My lord king," she said softly. "I am happy to see you in good health."
"Are you, madam? I was under the impression you desired my death."
"Never, my lord. I have never desired you dead. Humiliated perhaps," Nefertiti smiled faintly. "As you humiliated me. But never hurt."
"That is not what I have heard from witnesses. Do you deny plotting rebellion?"
"No. But I was led astray. My father is a strong-willed man and as a dutiful daughter I was bound to ..."
"You seek to blame him? By Aten, woman, this is too much. I have heard the truth from his own lips, how you and Sutau sought to dethrone me and take control of the kingdom for yourselves. You must be mad to think the people would accept you."
"Sutau?" Nefertiti laughed, a high clear tinkling melody of pure amusement. "He told you that? And you believed him?" She shook her head, her smile fading. "You are a fool, Akhenaten. You believe only in your Aten and are content to let this precious land of ours fall about our ears. I sought only to correct this."
The king glared at his former queen. "You do not deny wanting to dethrone me? You admit it?"
"Oh, Akhenaten, can you not see what you are doing? Has the Aten in truth blinded you? You trust those who would harm you and put no faith in those who would defend our Two Lands. You dismiss your wife of fifteen years to bed your own daughter--and for what? Sons? What need have you of sons? Marry your daughters to your brothers that our families might continue to rule Kemet. Meryetaten would be perfect for Smenkhkare and ..."
"I do not want to marry Smenkhkare," Meryetaten screamed. "I am married to father and I am queen now, not you, so keep your stupid advice to yourself."
Nefertiti shook her head, a wry smile on her face. She ignored her daughter's outburst and addressed her husband again. "Yes, I am guilty of seeking to overthrow you, husband. I was a good queen and would be again. My father knows how to rule and would be the strength behind the throne, my strength. Together we could have brought peace and prosperity back to Kemet, defending our beloved country against her enemies." She turned to Paatenemheb. "Is that not what you would want, General? To have our armies strong again and Kemet respected rather than being an object of ridicule?"
"I would have Kemet strong and respected, madam, but not at the expense of civil disobedience, of rebellion against Ma'at and the king. I swore to defend Kemet and to obey my king in all things. This I will do even if it means stamping you into the dust."
"Then I have failed," Nefertiti said calmly. "And Kemet will continue to decline."
"So you admit it openly, without coercion?" Akhenaten's lip trembled. "You do not deny your treason?"
"If you see it as treason, husband, then I can do no more. Deal with me as you will." Nefertiti bowed her head, awaiting her husband's decision.
For several minutes Akhenaten said nothing. He sat on his throne with head bowed, tears trickling down his face. At last he sat up and wiped his face. "I cannot find it in myself to...to execute you as I know I should, as the law requires. Instead I...I sentence you to exile beyond the boundaries of Kemet, never to see our beautiful land again."
Nefertiti sobbed. "Kill me, husband. Do not send me from the land I love."
"I cannot kill you, Nefertiti the beautiful, for the love we once had. But I must be strong and put you from me
. It shall be as if you are dead for no man will speak of you, no woman envy your beauty, no child think of you, for you will be no more in Kemet." Tears broke out afresh in Akhenaten's eyes. "Take her away, Paatenemheb. Take her from my sight that I may expunge her from my memory."
"Where...where will you send me?"
"For now, to the North Palace. Tomorrow I shall decide on your place of exile. Take her, Paatenemheb. Take her quickly."
The king watched in agony as his wife; once the most beautiful woman in Kemet, now a traitor, and soon to be a fading memory; was escorted weeping from the Hall of Justice. As the doors closed behind her, Akhenaten broke down and cried, kneeling on the floor and howling with grief. Meryetaten sat stony-faced on the queen's throne, confused and upset, wanting her jewels.
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Chapter Thirty-Nine
I arrived back in Akhet-Aten with some trepidation. Paramessu and I rehired the fishing boat to bring us upriver, but traveling against the current with no rowers, with just the fickle winds in our sail, took a long time. I did not begrudge the delay because I enjoyed the company of this strong, mature soldier. He talked for hours about his father Seti, a judge and troop commander in Avaris; about his childhood and early life; about his life as a soldier and commander, and the future of Kemet. In my turn I told him of my life in the court and my adventures in the city of Waset with Smenkhkare. Naturally, my life did not take long to relate but I listened to Paramessu talk all day and night, encouraging him whenever he stopped, asking questions, hanging on his every word. He had this ability to talk as an equal and with him I did not feel like a young girl, but like a woman whose company he enjoyed.
The age difference between us was great, some twenty years, but age means little to us in Kemet if attraction is there. I know I wanted to get to know my Paramessu better, and I think he felt the same. I found myself wishing I was not a princess or him not a commoner. Age difference is nothing to a Kemetu, but the difference in our rank was everything. If I had been a little older I could have taken him as a lover, but never anything more. The man who married me would have a claim on the throne of Kemet, and the king would not allow me to marry outside of the family. My Paramessu said nothing, acted like a perfect gentleman throughout our trip, but I knew in my heart what we both desired. It was not to be though, and I locked my secret thoughts away in my heart. So it was with sadness that our journey came to an end. The moon was already halfway to full when we tied up at the north wharf amid the freight barges, and I found I had missed the one event that would have given me much joy to attend--my brother Smenkhkare's coronation.