Salvation in the Sun (The Lost Pharaoh Chronicles Book 1)

by Lauren Lee Merewether

“Thus Pharaoh says.”

  His back was to her, so she lifted her head and hands in prayer to Amun-Re to give her patience. She folded her hands in her lap, deciding to give Kiya’s suggestion a try. Perhaps she could coax him back to her by indulging in his obsessions for a while. “Well, then, Akhenaten, when I have my strength back, I would like to join you in the temple if you would have me.”

  “You want to join me in the temple and worship the Aten?” he repeated, spinning around and almost dropping the baby in his haste.

  Nefertiti lunged forward to catch her daughter, but he held on to her and pressed her close to his neck. She looked up and said, “Yes, if you will have me.”

  “Praise the Aten! I have prayed for this day to come! My beautiful wife to join me in my daily worship!” He grabbed her hand and kissed it all the way up her arm and to her lips. The baby girl’s face contorted in screaming silence.

  Giggling, Nefertiti wrapped her arms around his neck and slowly kissed him back. Maybe Kiya was right, she thought. Just for a time. I will still worship Amun-Re, though—in my mind, since he has outlawed all other gods but the Aten. She stroked her baby’s head until the wrinkles disappeared and peace rested on her face.

  He raised their daughter between them and asked, “Have you decided on a name?”

  “I was waiting for you to come to see her.”

  “The Aten did not give me a vision for the name of the child. However, as I see that she looks like you in every way, we should name her . . . Neferneferuaten Tasherit—your younger, your junior.”

  “You would name a child after me?” Nefertiti asked, honored and touched, her hand to her heart—even though Nefertiti Tasherit would have been just fine with her.

  “Why would I not? When this daughter of mine possesses all of the beauty of my wife!”

  “I love you, Am . . . Akhenaten,” she whispered. “Whatever your name, I will always love you.”

  The wet nurse had brought in a small bed for the newborn, since Nefertiti had wanted her through the night, and Akhenaten placed Neferneferuaten Tasherit, now asleep, in the bed. He came to his wife.

  “You were brave today without me there with you,” he said as he rubbed her shoulders. “I wanted to be there with you, but the Aten was gracing me with his presence.”

  “I know, my love,” she said, and kissed his hand.

  He brushed his leg against hers and pulled her backward into bed. Holding her waist as they lay on their sides facing each other, he said, “I love you, my Queen Neferneferuaten-Nefertiti.”

  Perhaps in his own way, he does love me. Her eyes closed, and after a long day, she fell asleep.

  Chapter 16

  The Time of Decline

  “Pharaoh Akhenaten.”

  The messenger bowed before the straight-backed Pharaoh seated in all of his golden glory, shimmering underneath the rays of the Aten. Most could not look at him because the glory that surrounded him shone so brightly, and the messenger kept his eyes closed as he looked to the Pharaoh. It had been a year since Neferneferuaten Tasherit was born, and, much to Nefertiti’s despair, Pharaoh’s delusions had only become more intense.

  “Speak, messenger,” he commanded.

  “Word has been sent from Master of Pharaoh’s Horses, Ay, in Waset, and from vizier Nakht, in Men-nefer. The lashes are numbering close to a million and each city has collected two years worth of taxes in these fines alone since the Pharaoh’s edict was carried out: worship of any god except the Aten shall be punished by one hundred lashes and a fine to the Aten.”

  Two years means we can turn Egypt back to Amun-Re more quickly now, Nefertiti thought—but Pharaoh focused on the first part of the message.

  “One million lashes in the past year.” Pharaoh pressed his lips together. He lifted his face toward the sky in his roofless throne room and began to pray to the Aten as his great heat fell upon his face. “Oh great sun-disc in the sky, the great and all-seeing Aten . . . the people continue to worship Amun-Re. How shall you wish, O great Aten, for Pharaoh to proceed?” He forced his eyes to remain open to receive the Aten’s visions as he stared into the blinding sunlight.

  The reflection from his golden collar reflected the light back underneath his jaw, and Pharaoh Akhenaten imagined what he looked like to those in the throne room and knew they believed he was the Aten’s chosen link to the people.

  Closing his eyes and dropping his head just as a cloud passed by overhead, he announced, “The great and glorious Aten has given me a vision.” Opening his eyes, he could see nothing but blurry objects, and the vision came to him in that blur. With a long face, he stayed quiet until the rays of the Aten were on his shoulders once again. “Thus was the vision from the Aten: General Paaten, Master of Pharaoh’s Horses, Ay, and Commander Horemheb will send the military through the streets of Waset and Men-nefer to destroy the statues of Amun and overturn the worship sites. The people will not find a place to worship Amun in all of Egypt to spare their lashes.”

  The people will love me now that I have removed their temptation, he thought.

  Queen Nefertiti and Queen Tiye sat silent, theirs jaws tightening and their shoulders rising to their necks.

  “Thus Pharaoh says,” he ended, and stood with his arms outstretched. “Thus the Aten says.”

  Queen Nefertiti tried to garner a look from Queen Tiye as shallow breaths made their way out of her nostrils. What is he doing? she thought. We will now more than ever have another rebellion, if not an assassination. What of our children? Is he thinking about our children? Why won’t Queen Tiye say anything, do anything?

  Her unborn baby kicked her hard and she bent forward from the pain. Not you too, she thought as she regained her breath. You are to worship Amun-Re with the rest of Egypt. Her mind drifted to her four daughters who had been worshiping with their father in the temples to the Aten. She had tried to teach them about Amun-Re, but Akhenaten had found her one day and threatened to give her one hundred lashes as well. Her poor children were growing up in the world of the Aten, and it frightened her for their afterlives. She could only hope and pray to Amun-Re that one day she could turn her husband’s mind around; she feared all the more, however, that his mind was too far gone.

  Another messenger came from Waset and was next in line to speak. Pharaoh took his seat, not noticing the tension held in his wife’s and mother’s stature.

  “Pharaoh Akhenaten, I come with a message from Treasurer of Egypt, Satau, and Master of Pharaoh’s Horses, Ay,” the messenger said.

  “Messenger, speak the message,” Pharaoh Akhenaten said.

  “There are significant gaps in the fines given and the monies received throughout the territories. They believe the officials are taking a share of the fines.”

  “Pharaoh believes he should ask the Aten to know if this is true.” And so saying, he raised his face to the Aten and prayed, “O great Aten, what shall you wish Pharaoh to do with those who take from you?” Dizzy from the sun, he rolled his head around on his shoulders and dropped his chin to his chest, the gold still reflected in his eyes. “Even though Pharaoh does not look into your face, O great Aten, you give another vision still! Pharaoh is grateful for your presence!”

  He looked at the messenger and said, “The Aten does not wish for Pharaoh to do anything, for the officials are carrying out his deeds, and so they shall be allowed to take what they need.”

  The messenger bowed and bravely said, “Master of Pharaoh’s Horses, Ay, believes there is corruption in the ranks of the officials.”

  “No, the Aten would not allow corruption. The officials are taking what they need—thus said the Aten! Do you dare call the Aten a liar?!” he bellowed.

  “No, Pharaoh,” the messenger trembled.

  “Thus Pharaoh says,” Pharaoh Akhenaten said. “Thus the Aten says.”

  The messenger stayed bowed, beads of sweat falling down his face. The sun shone brightly in the throne room. “Pharaoh Akhenaten . . . one more message from the Master of Pharaoh’s Horses,
Ay.”

  “Speak the message.”

  “Since the close of the temples of Amun-Re and the outlaw of worship of any god except the Aten, the Egyptian people go hungry, as a significant number of jobs were lost with the edict. Ay requests Pharaoh and his council to meet to determine how to provide surrogate jobs for the many artisans, priests, traders, and other professions who can no longer provide food for their families.”

  “They shall work for the Aten,” Pharaoh said with a chuckle, not sure why Ay wanted a meeting to discuss a very simple solution. “The artisans who sculpted for Ptah, Amun-Re, Bes, Isis, and the others will now sculpt for the Aten. The priests shall now be the local priests for the Aten, and they must come to Pharaoh to understand and interpret the gifts of Aten, for Pharaoh alone is the divine one of the Aten. However, the priests for Amun-Re shall never be priests for the Aten unless they declare the Aten the premiere god of Egypt and come to Pharaoh and ask for their due.”

  Pharaoh Akhenaten smiled. My father would be so proud of the Pharaoh I have become. I have kept the position of Pharaoh with its formality, and I have made the priesthood of Amun-Re nothing. You hear, Father? I alone have done this with the Aten, not Amun-Re! Thutmose could not have done this! I did this, not you!

  Still smiling, he said, “Thus Pharaoh says. Thus the Aten says. Tell Master of Pharaoh’s Horses, Ay, that no meeting of council will be needed.”

  The intense pain in Nefertiti’s abdomen came again, and she leaned forward suddenly. “Pharaoh,” she said, wincing, and began to suck in breaths.

  “Yes, Queen Neferneferuaten-Nefertiti?” He turned to look at her. A wave of familiarity crossed his face and for a slight moment, Nefertiti thought she saw Amenhotep behind all of the golden splendor—but then it was gone as he commanded a maidservant to assist her to her chambers. He stayed on his throne and looked forward, not watching his nine-month-pregnant wife leave to give birth to his child.

  Nefertiti held back her tears until she reached the midwives, and then the intense pains came back and she nearly toppled over. A watery substance ran down her leg and they began the preparations. Her mind reeled, not focused on the intense pain but rather thinking, Amenhotep would have come with me . . . but Akhenaten sits on his throne ignoring the people’s pleas for faith and food.

  Nefertiti fell back into the arms of her maidservants and they laid her on the cot next to the birthing pot. The maidservants loudly prayed to the Aten to protect the new child and the Queen from the evil spirits.

  Aitye, kneeling beside Nefertiti, dabbed the sweat from her master’s brow, afraid to tell her the sex of the child. Nefertiti moaned: her energy drained, her mouth dry and pasty, her head throbbing. “Aitye,” she whispered.

  “Yes, my Queen,” Aitye said, taking her hand.

  “Do I have a son?”

  “My Queen needs to regain her strength,” Aitye said, and had another maidservant begin to fan the Queen as she dipped her rag into the water again and dab around her neck and chest. “Rest for now.”

  “No, Aitye. Do I have a son?” Nefertiti asked with a more rigor.

  “My Queen has given birth to a beautiful baby girl.”

  Nefertiti only stared back at her servant and then looked to the ceiling as Aitye continued to dab water on her neck. The slight breeze from the servant girl’s fan cooled the warm water on her body. She closed her eyes and clenched her teeth. The cool water felt good after so much sun. Yes, the water is so refreshing, she thought as the breeze cooled the water droplets on her forehead. Amenhotep said he would love all of his daughters, but Akhenaten had a vision of a son. I will have a son, he saw the vision of me with his son. I should not worry about this daughter.

  She opened her eyes as her maidservants propped her up. “Aitye, bring my daughter.”

  “Yes, my Queen,” Aitye said, and brought the newborn to her.

  “Again,” Nefertiti whispered, “a beautiful baby girl.”

  The messenger asked her, “Queen Neferneferuaten-Nefertiti, what message should I bring to Pharaoh?”

  “Tell Pharaoh he now has five daughters.”

  There is no use in hiding the fact she is another daughter. He pledged his love to her and promised there would only be one lover of Pharaoh, just as the Aten is the one god of Egypt. I have nothing to worry about, she thought, but in the back of her mind, she was afraid of this new Akhenaten and what visions he might receive from the Aten.

  The messenger bowed and left. He swiftly returned and said, “Pharaoh worships the Aten with royal wife Kiya and his daughters. He will see his new daughter when they have completed their praises.”

  “Why is royal wife Kiya with him?” Nefertiti asked.

  “She worships the Aten with Pharaoh, per Pharaoh’s command.”

  “Pharaoh commanded she worship the Aten with him? In my place? With my daughters?”

  The messenger was silent. He felt pity for his Queen—so many daughters and no sons, and now perhaps being replaced with another wife by the slightly unstable Pharaoh. He had prayed to Amun-Re that she would have a son. Perhaps, he thought, Amun-Re knows Pharaoh’s son would only allow the heresy to continue. Perhaps it is best he not have a son just yet; however, for my Queen’s sake, I wish she could have a son.

  Nefertiti looked to the messenger, knowing he couldn’t answer for Pharaoh, and dropped her face to her baby girl’s forehead. “Remember Amun-Re,” she whispered. “Surely he punishes me for not teaching my children about him.”

  Aitye’s gaze dropped to the floor as her maidservants came near to their Queen and said a quiet prayer to Bes and Tawaret to keep the evil spirits from her and the new baby girl, despite the decree to not worship any gods except for the Aten. But they all knew the Queen would want the prayer to go to Bes and Tawaret and not the Aten, and because she fought alongside them when the rebels came, they would do whatever she truly desired and face whatever lashes they would receive if caught.

  Nefertiti closed her eyes and let their prayers cover her. The messenger, who was loyal to his Queen as well, stood by the door guarding it from anyone who might hear the prayers.

  That night, Pharaoh did not come to their chambers. Nefertiti sent the messenger to see if he would name the child, and to also tell her where he was staying the night.

  “My Queen,” the messenger said with a bow as he returned. “Pharaoh stays in the temple of the Aten tonight.”

  A flame lit in Nefertiti’s heart. He hadn’t abandoned her yet for Kiya or Henuttaneb, even after the fifth daughter.

  The messenger continued. “He commanded you name the child, as the Aten has given him no visions on the child’s name.”

  Nefertiti had given her name a lot of thought—there had been little else to do that day. She wanted to somehow bring glory to Amun-Re, but under the guise of the Aten, and in that moment, Amun-Re gave her a name.

  “Declare unto Pharaoh that his child’s name shall be . . . Nefernefereure: ‘perfect are the perfections of Re.’ ”

  The messenger’s eyes grew wide. “My Queen . . . may I speak?”

  “You may,” she said, ready to defend her decision.

  “Pharaoh may not accept that name, as it does not give glory to the Aten.”

  “But it does,” she said, smiling coyly. “The Aten is a part of Re. Even Pharaoh himself cannot deny this.”

  The messenger smiled too. “You are wise, Queen. May you live forever.” He bowed and went to tell Pharaoh his child’s name.

  “I will live forever in the stones of this throne room . . . as a heretic,” she said to herself as she looked out the window toward the valley of the two mountains. Although she was weak, she had garnered enough strength to walk to the window, and now she found Pharaoh’s shadow cast by the flame in one of many temples of the Aten. “He may never turn Egypt back to Amun-Re,” she whispered, letting the realization of her statement sink into the depths of her soul.

  What am I going to do? she thought, and sunk her head into her hands on the window si
ll. A tinge of guilt spread through her soul. Perhaps, if she had not encouraged his belief to keep his loyalty to her in the beginning of their marriage, this whole ordeal may have ended by now.

  Again, she repeated to herself: What am I to do?

  Chapter 17

  The Time of Division

  Pharaoh stayed in the temple, and he did not come out even to the throne room. Messengers lined the doors, only to be told to retire and that Pharaoh would perhaps see them the next day. But the next day came and went, as did the next, and then the next. Messengers began to plead to see Pharaoh. Pharaoh told them he could not be bothered in his worship to the Aten, and so his chief royal wife would rule in his place until his worship satisfied the Aten.

  Looking about the throne room, Queen Nefertiti, although sore and in pain, assumed her place on her throne. She’d had the servants move her throne to be in line with Pharaoh’s, now that she was to rule in Pharaoh’s place.

  Almost as soon as she had taken her seat, a messenger came forth quickly to her and said, “Queen Tiye is not feeling well and will not join you, my Queen.”

  She nodded, and he ran away. She took a moment to breathe while the Aten beat upon her brow and the golden collar reflected the Aten’s rays into her eyes. No wonder he has so many visions, she thought, trying to make out the people in the throne room through the blinding light.

  “In Pharaoh’s place, Queen Neferneferuaten-Nefertiti will hear Egypt and its allies,” she said as the first messenger came forth.

  “My Queen,” the messenger said. “The vassal state, Byblos, was lost to Egypt.”

  “Lost?” Nefertiti wanted to sink back into her throne. What a great start to my coregency.

  “We came months ago with the message that Byblos was under attack, my Queen. Pharaoh sent no armed guard, however, declaring the Egyptian military’s divine duty was to protect Pharaoh and his Queen, as they alone are the mediators between the Aten and the people of Egypt.” There was a slight hint of annoyance in the messenger’s voice, much as he tried to hide it.