“Yes, and they did not like it, but said they would go along.”
Pharaoh Amenhotep looked down and pressed his lips together. “Are we alone in this?”
“Not necessarily, but almost. Your father’s council knows, including Commander Horemheb. General Paaten agrees to do whatever is best for Pharaoh and Egypt.” She glanced at the General in the corner, and he nodded back. “We have his trust, and therefore the trust of the military.”
“I assume we have your father’s trust, as well?” Pharaoh Amenhotep asked, peering over to Nefertiti. She nodded, and he turned back to face his mother. “And Commander Horemheb?”
“He agreed . . . reluctantly,” she said. “I believe we have his trust as an official of the Egyptian military, but we don’t have his heart.”
“I don’t think we have anyone’s heart,” Nefertiti said. “When I was cornered yesterday, seeing the hate from the man who almost killed me . . .” She shook her head. “I don’t want to die for something I don’t believe in. I think we all have a reluctance about the entire plan.”
“I am not reluctant. My heart is in my father’s plan,” Amenhotep said. Because I believe in the Aten, he thought, but instead he said, “I want power restored to Pharaoh. I will die for that.”
“And your sister and her husband are willing to die to keep Amun-Re as premiere god,” she retorted. “Will you put them to death if they don’t declare the Aten as the premiere god of Egypt?” Her heart raced in her chest as she waited for his answer.
“If they make me,” Amenhotep said, his own heart racing.
“She is your sister!” Nefertiti said.
Queen Tiye put her hand up to silence both of them. “We have to make an example of them if they choose not to follow the Aten. We must show Pharaoh’s power and might.”
“If they die for Amun-Re, we will have made them martyrs for the people,” Queen Nefertiti said.
“I say we have them executed as traitors. Martyrs they may be, but the people will be afraid nonetheless,” Queen Tiye said.
“But she is your daughter,” Nefertiti said, thinking of her own three precious girls.
“No daughter of mine would deny the command of her father, the Pharaoh of Egypt, be married in secret, refuse Pharaoh’s resolution, accept judgment of exile, use Sitamun to safeguard her, and then bring bloodshed and death to the house of Pharaoh,” Queen Tiye said. “She is an embarrassment and a shame to this family. I no longer call her my own.”
Nefertiti saw that Queen Tiye’s face was flushed and her ears burned red. “Queen Tiye . . . I mean no disrespect. But if we execute them, the people may be afraid, but it will only increase their motivation to rise up again. Will Commander Horemheb come as fast as he did last night to save us? Will General Paaten sustain more casualties for a cause he knows is not real?”
“It is real to some,” Pharaoh Amenhotep said, hurt his wife would say such a thing when she knew how he felt about the Aten and Amun-Re.
General Paaten, who had approached them unexpectedly, whispered, “Pharaoh, if I may be so bold to interrupt . . . the conversation being had is getting a little loud. Some may hear across the throne room.” He nodded to several guards and servants who lined the opposite end.
“Thank you, General,” Queen Tiye said with a most gracious nod of her head.
“General Paaten, what are your thoughts? Should we execute the princess and her husband?” Nefertiti asked, hoping his response and longstanding relationship with Queen Tiye would at least cause her to reconsider her stance.
“My Queen, it is not for me to decide. However, I may also present a reminder to Pharaoh that his father had exiled Princess Nebetah and her husband and was to enforce the exile should they ever leave the sanctuary of the chambers of Sitamun,” he said with a bow.
I do remember that now, Amenhotep thought. It had slipped his mind. How could he forget? “Thank you, General, for your insight. Please leave Pharaoh to speak with the Queens.”
“As Pharaoh wishes,” the General said, and turned to go back to his corner.
“As great royal wife of the Pharaoh before”—Queen Tiye straightened her back to be slightly taller than Nefertiti—“I would advise we carry out the execution if they refuse the Aten.”
“I agree,” Pharaoh Amenhotep said.
Queen Nefertiti wanted to speak again, but it was already decided. There was nothing she could do.
Pharaoh Amenhotep looked to his wife and placed his hand on hers. “Do not worry. She will go with the Aten.”
“And if she doesn’t?” Queen Nefertiti said. “Are you ready to spill her blood?”
“If she wills me . . . yes,” he said slowly. “I had to spill great a many man’s blood yesterday when she and Pawah led their rebellion against the palace. Both of my viziers are dead. One more will not cause me to lose more sleep.”
Queen Nefertiti nodded in response. “Pharaoh is right,” she said, and sat back in her seat, her hands neatly placed on her knees, thinking, I am not going to be a part of this execution if it does take place.
Amenhotep could sense, from her sudden change to formality, that she did not agree, but it was what his mother wanted him to do. His years of working to obtain his mother’s approval would not be in vain. He winced, thinking back to his father’s final rejection of him. No, he would do whatever his mother asked of him.
“It is time,” Pharaoh Amenhotep said, and the guards opened the door for Princess Nebetah and Fifth Prophet of Amun, Pawah, to be escorted back inside the throne room.
The guards threw them to their knees before Pharaoh and drew their spears, ready to take them to their execution.
Pharaoh Amenhotep held his hand up and spoke: “Princess Nebetah and Fifth Prophet of Amun, Pawah. You have committed a great crime against Pharaoh, and, thus, against Egypt. Only because of your relationship to Pharaoh have you been granted this single time of pardon; otherwise you would join the others in execution. They were allowed to commit suicide, but you, in your leadership of the rebellion, your confession of this great crime, will die by impalement in front of the temple of the Aten for all to see—unless you declare the Aten as the premiere god of Egypt and swear to live the rest of your lives under his rays.”
A smirk came across Nebetah’s face, but Pawah held his grimace.
Nefertiti thought, Impalement is on their minds—a very rare execution, mostly due to the fact that no one is brave enough to risk taking up arms against the state. Pawah doesn’t want to die . . . but why is Nebetah smiling?
A silence came over them, and Queen Tiye narrowed her eyes.
A haughty tone came out with Nebetah’s first word: “Pharaoh.” She gave a slight chuckle and a shake of her head.
Pawah put a hand over hers, breaking off what she was going to say momentarily.
She thinks Pharaoh is bluffing, Nefertiti realized. He is not bluffing. How do I make her see that her life hangs in the balance? She opened her mouth and said, “Choose your next words carefully, Princess Nebetah, for they might be your last.”
Another long silence filled the room. Queen Nefertiti’s words made Princess Nebetah question herself. They had never witnessed impalement, but that was the law. To sit a live criminal at the top of a sharp spike out in front of the temple of choice and add weights to the baskets tied to their hands and feet while they slowing sank down on the pole until it pierced their brain, only dying after hours of agony and blood loss. Usually, depending on the severity of their crime, their body would not be given a proper burial—and without their body, they could not have the option of entering eternal life.
My father sent us to exile in Nubia and was going to carry it out, Princess Nebetah thought. Perhaps his son would carry out his threat, but this time, I cannot hide behind my eldest sister Sitamun.
Pawah held two fears in his eyes—one to die and the possibility of not having eternal life, and the other to deny Amun-Re as the premiere god of Egypt—but he nodded to her. He would die with her or li
ve in blasphemy with her, whichever she chose.
As much bloodshed as she and her husband caused, I don’t wish eternal punishment on them, Nefertiti thought.
Finally, Princess Nebetah spoke: “My brother, Pharaoh Amenhotep.” Her tone was now much more respectful. “We will declare Aten as the premiere god of Egypt. Please also pardon those who have not yet been forced to suicide for fighting against the order of Pharaoh, and let us go in peace.”
A sad smile crept along Pharaoh Amenhotep’s face. “Pharaoh will pardon you . . . but those who have fought alongside you must die. As a part of your punishment, their blood will be on your hands.”
Princess Nebetah glared at her brother on his throne. “You would slaughter your own people?”
“Pharaoh carries out the law when certain people of Egypt commit crimes against Pharaoh and the state,” Pharaoh Amenhotep replied to her question. “You led them. You incited them to action. You equipped them. You gave them orders to take up arms against Pharaoh!” Trying to maintain a cool head, he took a moment to pause. “You brought them to their deaths.”
Princess Nebetah’s and Pawah’s nostrils flared as their jaws tightened.
“ ’Tis your burden to bear. Take your husband. Pharaoh has spared him,” Pharaoh said.
They only stayed kneeling and curled their hands into balls of fury at his words.
“You, Pharaoh’s sister, and your prince, may go in peace,” Pharaoh said at their silence. Not even a thank-you, he thought, and decided that perhaps General Paaten was right about enforcing his father’s ruling.
Princess Nebetah and Fifth Prophet of Amun, Pawah, stood and began to turn and walk out of the throne room.
Pharaoh found General Paaten’s eyes and nodded slightly. He motioned to his soldiers, and they surrounded Nebetah and Pawah.
Princess Nebetah turned back to him. “What does Pharaoh wish now?”
“The Pharaoh before sentenced you both to exile for refusing to obey his command. You have stepped away from your place of sanctuary,” Pharaoh Amenhotep said.
“Brother, you wouldn’t!” Princess Nebetah screamed.
Disgusted at the lack of respect, Queen Tiye slowly stood up and took a step to stand beside her son to show her utter disownment of Princess Nebetah.
“Because you, Princess Nebetah, and you, Fifth Prophet of Amun, Pawah, have violated the terms of your sanctuary, Pharaoh now enforces the punishment of the Pharaoh before to be carried out. You are hereby exiled to Nubia,” Pharaoh Amenhotep said. “Thus Pharaoh says.”
Princess Nebetah yelled and thrashed about when the soldiers grabbed them to take them to Nubia. “Brother!” she said, and pointed at him, eyes red and angry.
Queen Tiye spoke sharply, before she could say any more, “Pharaoh’s grace will not be extended a second time.”
Princess Nebetah yanked her hand back to her side and stormed out of the throne room, her husband following her. She glanced behind her shoulder, and her glare pierced through the throne room to her brother, Pharaoh Amenhotep. She would take everything most valuable to him if it was the last thing she did.
Chapter 14
The Time of Aketaten
“Pharaoh, I come with great news. The city for the Aten has been completed, as well as the palace for the royal family,” the messenger said after he had paid respects to the ruler of Egypt. “The chief architect and engineers perfected every corner of the city.”
I will finally get my own throne room with an open roof, Father, Amenhotep thought. “As Pharaoh has built this city for the Aten to rise above Egypt, the name of the new city will be Aketaten: ‘the horizon of the Aten.’ Prepare to move the royal family to the new city of Aten.”
That night, Queen Nefertiti and Pharaoh Amenhotep lay by each other’s sides, circling their fingers over each other’s bare chests. “We will be in a new home soon,” she said.
“Our new home,” he responded, losing himself in her newly bathed scent of lotus blossom. “Our home . . . without a roof on the throne room, and many courtyards and open temples to praise the Aten.”
“The Aten . . .” Nefertiti hummed. She closed her eyes, not wanting Amenhotep to see her inner turmoil raging inside of her mind. Amenhotep’s belief in the Aten, she thought, outweighs his belief in Amun-Re, but even though it is heresy, his belief keeps him loyal to me. One day, we will have to go back to Amun-Re as his father planned, and on that day, I may lose him to Kiya or another wife he brings into our marriage bed.
His warm hand on her pregnant belly and his breath on her chest made her smile. She was his and his alone. He was hers and hers alone . . . for now. She knew in his mind, he needed his marriage to be this way, as the Aten was the one true god. She often wondered how far he would go, pushing the Aten on his people. Perhaps Thutmose would have been a better Pharaoh for this task. In some ways, handing the throne to Amenhotep and telling him to turn Egypt to the Aten for a time is like handing a thief a temporary free pardon to steal whatever he wants. Will he turn in his temporary pardon when it comes due? she asked herself as she half noticed Amenhotep whispering to their child.
“You will be a great child of mine, a great testament to your mother and me. I have prayed to the Aten that you are a boy, a son of whom I will be proud, no matter your skill or ability. I will be proud of my sons—all of the sons I will have—just as I love all of my daughters, your sisters: Meritaten, Meketaten, and Ankhesenpaaten, and all of the daughters I will have,” Amenhotep said, and kissed the side of her belly, then came back to kiss the full lips of his wife.
“Will you still love me, only me, if we have another baby girl?” Nefertiti asked.
“Yes, my love, I will. Our daughters only surround me with more beauty than I could ever imagine—all blessings from the great Aten,” he said as his fingers outlined her high cheekbones. “I will only ever love you.”
“As there is only one premiere god of Pharaoh,” she said.
“There will only be one lover of him as well,” he finished her sentence, and Nefertiti’s mind rested for the evening.
That year, they moved to Aketaten, the city of Aten, and with their move, the capital of Egypt also moved. Pharaoh declared no other temples to any other gods were to be built in the Aten’s city, as he increasingly sat and stood and prayed in the open-roofed temples and courtyards of his new home. He continuously gathered new visions from the Aten, and all seemed well in the affairs of the state.
But one day, his newly appointed vizier of Egypt, Nakht, came bearing bad news.
“Pharaoh,” he said with a bow; he held a scroll in his hand as he walked into the council room, built according to Pharaoh Amenhotep’s demands. A few rays of Aten flowed into the room from the sky, and they surrounded Pharaoh’s chair.
Ay followed Nakht, as well as General Paaten. “Sister, great royal wife Tiye,” Ay said with a slight bow in her direction. “Daughter, chief royal wife Nefertiti,” he said with a smile and another bow.
Nefertiti responded with a slight chuckle. My father bowing to me . . . I will never get used to it, she thought.
Nakht sat at the table with them and rolled out the scroll.
“Good news?” Tiye asked.
Nakht did not say anything at first, only shook his head, and Nefertiti’s heart dropped into her stomach. Oh no, she thought. “What is wrong?” she asked.
“Even with the declaration of the Aten as the premiere god of Egypt and the completion of Aketaten, Satau reports the priesthood of Amun still collects sixty-eight percent of Egypt’s gold in this past year.” Nakht shook his head as he double-tapped the last figure of Satau’s calculations on the papyrus.
“Well, at least it is decreasing,” General Paaten said with a half grin.
“Not by enough.” Queen Tiye closed her eyes and brought her forefinger and thumb to her forehead. Her eyes popped open as Nakht began to speak.
“The Amun priesthood, even with the proceeds from the tax for Akhenaten and the rate of decrease in their share,
will overtake Pharaoh in just three years.”
“So we must do more to remove the amount people give to the priesthood?” Amenhotep asked for clarification as he sat on the edge of his seat.
Ay nodded his head. “Yes. We must also increase the power of the state as well.”
General Paaten sighed at Amenhotep’s confused stare. “What Ay means by that, my Pharaoh, is our military has become lax after the rebellion. Many feel it was unnecessary bloodshed, and therefore they do their duty but they do not do it with passion.”
“If I changed my name to honor the Aten instead of Amun, would it persuade the people to the Aten and put the passion back into our armed forces?” Pharaoh asked with a hunger in his eyes.
“It may, depending on the current state of Pharaoh’s power against the priesthood,” Ay said. “But then again, the priesthood of Amun garnered a rebellion against Pharaoh last year as well.”
Nakht put his elbows on the table. “I did not want to bring this up now, but the two percent decrease was to fund the rebellion. Per Satau, they hid the expense in their records as ‘benevolence to Amun’s followers.’ The people have not stopped giving to the temples of Amun.”
“The priesthood of Amun funded the rebellion? They should all be allowed to commit suicide, then, just as the men who raised arms against Pharaoh!” Amenhotep stood and hit the table with a clenched fist.
“I agree, but they hid the expense well, and they will be able to justify the expenditure, as the expedient construction to Aketaten left many builders who refused to travel out of a job,” Nakht said. “I have already spoken with First Prophet of Amun, Maya, and Second Prophet of Amun, Sitmun, who both swear on their lives the money went to help Amun’s followers in their time of need.”
General Paaten snorted and shook his head. “Their time of need,” he muttered under his breath.
“They persuade people with money,” Queen Tiye said, and shook her head, whispering, “the hypocrites.” Priests were to keep only what was needed and give the rest to Amun-Re or back to the followers as a form of blessings, but there had not been a “benevolence” record in ages, and the priests lived mightily well.
Salvation in the Sun (The Lost Pharaoh Chronicles Book 1) Page 13