An Evil Spirit Out of the West (Ancient Egyptian Mysteries) (43 page)

Read An Evil Spirit Out of the West (Ancient Egyptian Mysteries) Online

Authors: Paul Doherty

BOOK: An Evil Spirit Out of the West (Ancient Egyptian Mysteries)
5.49Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
Akhenaten wished to prove how he feared nothing. He insisted that the imperial bodyguard not accompany him on his royal progress, the roaring crowds being held back by a dangerously thin line of foot soldiers from the Seth and Anubis regiments.
‘I put my trust in the Aten,’ Akhenaten had boasted.
We had all bowed and nosed the ground before him, though my confidence in the Aten was not so great. I had the side streets packed with mercenaries, and master bowmen from the Syrian company on the tops of houses and palaces, as well as barges of marines along the river between Karnak and Luxor just in case the power of the Aten might fail.
On day thirteen in the fourth month of the Growing Season, year five of his Co-regency, Akhenaten held a sumptuous meal in the great Banqueting Chamber at Malkata. He had been absent for about three weeks, leaving us to scurry about to ensure all was well whilst he processed solemnly upriver to the place of the Aten. On his return he made the decision to turn Egypt on its head, to make a new beginning. First we feasted in those glorious chambers. The silver and ebony inlaid tables groaned with the gold cups, plates and bowls displaying small irises and water lilies. An imposing procession of servants from every part of the empire, male and female, garbed in pure white linen, served red cabbage, sesame seeds, aniseed and cumin in order to create a great thirst to be quenched by the coolest beer, Hittite wines and the best from Pharaoh’s vineyards in Egypt and Canaan. After this came roast geese, haunches of calf and gazelle steaks adorned with ham frills, all roasted over wood with bowls of blood gravy and dishes of every type of vegetable. We ate and drank our fill, whilst the Orchestra of the Sun played sweet music and the divine choir chanted hymns to the Aten.
Once the servants withdrew, the gilded doors were locked and secured, the oil lamps freshened, and more wine served. Ay called the revellers to order. We were all present – Nefertiti, Tiye, Horemheb and Rameses, Pentju, Huy, Meryre, Maya and the newcomer, Tutu, who had won the full support of Ay. Tutu had been promoted to the rank of Chamberlain and First Servant of Neferkheprure-Waenre, Akhenaten’s new throne-name translated literally as ‘The transformation of Ra is perfect, the unique one of Ra’. Nefertiti also had a new name, being called Nefernefruaten meaning ‘Beautiful are the beauties of Aten’.
Ay began the proceedings. For the first time we heard Akhenaten’s vision of the Godhead, himself as well as his future intentions. I can still recall Ay’s powerful voice rolling through the chamber. First he began with a hymn.
‘Beautiful, you appear from the horizon of heaven,
Oh, living Aten who causes all life!
You have risen from your eastern horizon
And every land is bathed in your beauty!
You are fair, dazzling high over every land.
Your rays have reached to the limits of the earth.
You are Ra, you have reached the limits
and subdued them for your beloved son.
Although you are far away, your rays caress the earth
and so you are seen.’
On and on he went. One line, I remember, pricked my ears.
‘You are in our hearts but no one knows you except
your son Neferkheprure-Waenre …’
Most of this hymn was drawn from chants devised by other temples. Ay paused, wetted his throat and continued, his voice no longer so sing-song. He was now acting as the King’s mouth, proclaiming the King’s words.
‘Look, I am informing you regarding the forms of other gods: their temples are known to me, their writings learned by heart. I am aware of the primeval bodies. I have watched them as they ceased to exist, one after the other, except for the god who begot himself by himself, the Glorious Aten.’
I glanced along the table. Most of the guests had drunk too deeply to be taking note, but Horemheb, sat next to me, had a fierce scowl on his face.
‘As for Thebes,’ Ay continued, ‘and the things that have been done here,’ his voice rose to a chant, ‘they are worse than the things we heard in year four of our reign, worse than the things that we heard in year three of our reign, worse than the things we heard in year two of our reign …’
On and on he went. This was the only reference Akhenaten made to the conspiracy and treason he’d confronted.
‘However, on this day, Akhenaten,’ Ay proclaimed, ‘His Majesty obvious in a great chariot of electrum, appeared in glory just like Aten does when he rises in the horizon and fills the land with love and pleasantness. He set off on a good road towards the place of the Aten. He found himself a great monument there. He has ridden a circuit and the land will rejoice and all hearts will exult. He will make an estate of the Aten for his Father, erect a memorial to his name and to the great Royal Wife Nefernefruaten – Nefertiti. It will belong to Aten’s name for ever and ever. Now it is the Aten who has advised him concerning this. No official ever advised him. Nor did any person in this land. It was the Aten his Father who advised him so it could be built here. So, in the place of the Aten, he shall make a house to the Aten his Father. He shall also make a sun shade for the great Royal Wife. He shall make himself a residence. There shall be made a tomb for him in the Eastern Mountains. Let his burial be after the millions of jubilees which Aten his Father has bequeathed to him. He shall never leave that place. He shall not go to the North or the South, the East or the West, but in that place he shall make something beautiful for the Aten his Father. Something beautiful in the North, something beautiful in the South …’
By now the Royal Circle was alert but very silent, listening intently to this proclamation. Beneath the courtly courtesies, the pious exclamations, the tributes to the Aten, the reality emerged. Akhenaten was to shake the dust of Thebes from his feet. He would desert the gods of Egypt and build a new city, a great shrine for the Aten.
I closed my eyes and thought of that sandy cove stretching to the mountains. Akhenaten was determined on this. During Ay’s declamation, he sat, a faint smile on his face, dressed in a kilt of gold silver cloth and a shirt of the same material: a brilliantly coloured sash with gorgeous tabs circled his waist, over his shoulders lay a jewel-encrusted cape. Diamonds gleamed in his earlobes and on his fingers, legs and ankles. A pectoral displaying a golden Sun Disc surrounded by precious stones lay flat on his chest. A feathered crown on his head made him look taller. He cradled in his lap a jewel-encrusted
ankh
along with the gold-filigreed flail and rod. Akhenaten’s face was subtly painted, lips red with carmine, eyelids dusted a light green. Dark kohl rings circled the eyes. He looked majestic, the fine jewels transforming his misshapen body and ugly face into a vision of power and glory. Beside him sat Nefertiti, her red hair tumbling down, a plumed crown on her head, her face exquisitely painted. She was clothed in robes of gold and silver, shimmering with jewels, yet the beauty of her face and the brilliance of her blue eyes cut through all this and made my heart ache. These were not the cruel mockers who had attended Shishnak’s trial. They had transformed themselves into immortal beings surrounded by light. Even the air around them was heavy with perfumed glory. I became lost in a reverie as Akhenaten’s proclamation offered a new beginning. Our enemies were no more. No hand would be raised against us, no pit dug to trap us. No crook across our path to bring us down.
After his hymn to the Aten, Ay turned to more practical details, listing the treasure of the Temple of Amun which would be used to finance Akhenaten’s vision. I half-listened, staring at Nefertiti. I realised that, whatever she did, whatever she said, she was my vision, my Aten. She looked so exquisitely beautiful, those crystal blue eyes staring at me, savouring a quiet joke as if we were both fellow conspirators. Beside her Tiye, dressed in jewel-encrusted silver, enjoyed this moment of triumph. The rest were drunk not only on wine but on visions of further power and glory as they gathered on the threshold of a new era. As for me, Mahu the Baboon of the South? I would have given it all up to be lying in an orchard, Nefertiti beside me serving wine. A sharp dig in my ribs shattered my dream. Horemheb was glaring at me.
‘For what we were,’ he whispered beneath the discussion going on around us, ‘for what we are now. Mahu, listen to me. He’s mad! He’s insane!’
The comment was so sharp, such a contrast, that I burst out laughing. Ay stared across. Akhenaten’s smile faded whilst Nefertiti frowned.
‘I am sorry,’ I apologised, ‘but listing the treasures of Karnak I thought of Shishnak in his wig.’
A murmur of laughter greeted my words. I got to my feet.
‘Your Majesty, I must withdraw.’
I left the brilliantly painted Chamber of the Glorious Falcon and almost ran down the corridor, tiled in cobalt-blue, its walls painted a golden yellow with blood-red diamonds at top and bottom. I hastened past guards and servants and out into the moon-bathed courtyard. There I went over to the fountain and sat on its edge and let the laughter come. The more I tried to stop, the worse it became. Horemheb and Rameses followed. They, too, had excused themselves. I watched the water spilling out of the eagle’s mouth, making the lotus blossom rise and sink. I tried to compose myself but still I laughed. Horemheb and Rameses tried to speak. They stood, dressed in polished leather kilts, necks and chests adorned with golden necklaces and silver beads, staffs of office in their hands. The very sight of them sent me into further peals of laughter whilst they stood and glowered as if I was some impertinent recruit. The more they did so, the worse it became. Tears coursed down my cheeks, my sides ached, but I could not stop.
‘What is so funny?’ Rameses demanded.
The laughter bubbled up again. I could not speak. Behind Horemheb and Rameses a shadow moved in the colonnades. Djarka was there, his bow already strung. I raised my hand and shook my head. He retreated deeper into the darkness as Horemheb and Rameses turned.
‘Mahu!’ Horemheb grasped me by the very front of my robe and pulled me towards him. ‘Mahu!’
‘I am sorry.’ I wiped the tears on the back of my hand. ‘I was just sitting there lost in the dreams of glory, listening to the revelations of a god. And what do you say, Horemheb?’ I hissed. ‘He’s mad! He’s insane!’ I pushed him away. ‘You could lose your head for such a remark.’
Horemheb stepped back.
‘Oh, don’t worry,’ I whispered. ‘I have never laughed so much for such a long time. It was such a contrast, so comical.’
Rameses measured his steps as he walked towards me and stopped, his face only a few inches from mine.
‘We know it is, Mahu. It’s madness, sitting there, eating cabbage and onions, chewing soft meat and gulping sweet wines whilst listening to the ranting and ravings of a god-obsessed fanatic.’
‘You could both lose your heads,’ I replied.
‘We are only telling the truth,’ Horemheb protested. He gestured back towards the palace. ‘People suspect but they don’t really know. Can you imagine, Mahu, what is going to happen when this is proclaimed beyond the Third Cataract or across Sinai? The Pharaoh of Egypt is about to break from the past, lost in a dream of building a new city, a new capital. Are the old gods to be destroyed, the temples closed? Will the Necropolis truly become the City of the Dead? Don’t you realise, Mahu, Akhenaten intends to begin again. Can you imagine the cost of it all? If our treasure is diverted to building cities out in the desert, if our energies are devoted to the worship of the one god, who will pay for the troops? The chariots? The horses? Who will send gold, silver and precious stones to our allies?’
‘You are beginning to sound like God’s Father Hotep.’
‘No, we are just talking sense!’ Rameses protested, but fear glowed in his eyes. Pride warmed my heart. Rameses the snake, for the first time ever, was fearful. Both of them were here to ask for my help, my advice.
‘Well,’ Horemheb poked me in the chest. ‘Do you believe all this, Mahu? Playing at being priests and temple worshippers is all very well, but what about in a year’s time, ten years’ time?’
‘We are on a river,’ I replied. ‘We must let the current take us.’
‘To our deaths?’
‘Rameses, we are all going to die.’
‘Not before our time,’ Horemheb snapped. ‘Mahu, you know, I know – we
all
know this is madness.’
‘So the river rushes fast.’
‘Look.’ Horemheb grasped my wrist. ‘I am grateful for what you have done for me and for Rameses. We are also grateful for what you did for Hotep.’ Horemheb shook his head. ‘I had no quarrel with him, Mahu.’
‘Except that he tried to get us all killed out in the Red Lands.’
‘Politics,’ Rameses grinned. ‘It also gave us the opportunity for glory and the rewards that went with it.’
‘Akhenaten gave Hotep honourable burial,’ I replied, ‘because he had no choice. Hotep was the people’s hero.’
Horemheb withdrew his hand.
‘What is it?’ I asked. ‘Horemheb, what are you really concerned about? Akhenaten is not threatening the army or preparing to surrender Egypt’s power.’
‘I am most concerned. I am frightened.’ Horemheb wiped his hands together. ‘The things I am concerned about will happen in the future. It will take years. Did you listen to Ay carefully, Mahu? I have no difficulty accepting Pharaoh’s title of being God’s Son or likening himself to the Hawk of Horus or the Ibis of Thoth. As far as I am concerned, he can give himself any title he wants. No.’ Horemheb lifted a warning finger. ‘Listen to that proclamation carefully, Mahu. There is only going to be one god in Egypt, a country which, for thousands of years, has worshipped what she likes. This god is to be Akhenaten himself.’
‘So?’ I shrugged. ‘His father laid claim to similar powers, that he was God’s Regent on earth.’
‘No!’ Horemheb continued remorselessly. ‘Akhenaten not only claims to be the only recipient of this new revelation but that, somehow or other, he pre-existed: he knew the Aten before he was born.’
‘What my good friend is saying,’ Rameses leaned his hand on Horemheb’s shoulder and pushed his face close, ‘is that it is only a matter of time before Akhenaten claims he is the Aten, the Sole God.’
‘Just titles!’ I scoffed. ‘Grandiose words which no one really believes.’
‘Someone already believes it,’ Rameses retorted, black eyes gleaming. ‘Akhenaten himself. That’s why we call him mad, insane and stupid.’
‘It will not come to that. Akhenaten is simply lost in visions of glory.’
‘Oh, he believes it,’ Rameses laughed, ‘he and his red-haired Queen. They see themselves as gods incarnate and that’s where the danger lies. If they truly believe it, they’ll eventually expect every one of their subjects to believe it too. What happens then, Mahu, to those who object, who protest? Who would like to point out that our army needs strengthening or ships need to be built or that our garrisons in Canaan need to be strengthened? Will we be told to shut up? That the Great God who arranges everything will do something? And what happens, Mahu, when he tells the Kings of the Mitanni and the Hittites, the Princes of Canaan and Kush that he is not their ally any longer? That he is their God instead – and must be obeyed.’ Rameses patted Horemheb on the shoulder. ‘Now, Mahu, think of that.’ And they both turned and walked away.
The revolution occurred; Akhenaten’s will was supreme. Thebes went down into the dust to make submission but now he trod on the city’s head, made its citizens breathe in and choke on the dust of his own departure. He would forsake Thebes. He would leave it for ever. He would let it wither like the fruit on the branch and no one could oppose him. The Magnificent One, drunk, drugged and failing, was now being fed the milk of mother mice mixed with ale in an attempt to cure his different ailments. Live, freshly shelled mussels were used to ease the pain of his sore gums but, in the end, it was always the sweet juice of the poppy which soothed the pain and sent him into a drugged sleep.
For a short while I fell ill myself – with a fever brought on, Pentju claimed, by exhaustion and excitement. I hoped that Nefertiti would come and tend me. I even sent Djarka with messages excusing my presence from the Royal Circle, but she never replied. Pentju tended me well; Khiya brought him to my bedside. She often visited me, chattering away about the affairs at court. She’d formed a firm friendship with Pentju and, when he finished with me, I would often glimpse them from my window walking in the gardens, heads together, squatting down, studying some herb or plant. Nefertiti didn’t visit me because she and Akhenaten were concerned with nothing but the move to the City of the Aten. I was swept up in the same preparations. The erection of stelae and boundary stones on the edges of that great crescent of sand beneath the eastern cliffs marked the beginning. I witnessed Akhenaten, glorious in his chariot, whip in hand, moving round the entire area dedicating the sacred spot revealed to him by the Aten. The news swept through Thebes like a sudden thunderstorm but, of course, it had all been prepared. Ay had seen to that. The wells were already dug, springs uncovered, canals constructed, the fertile edges on the eastern bank of the Nile brought under swift cultivation. The imperial fleet was massed. Barges, collected from all over Egypt, were moored at strategic positions along the Nile. Carts by their thousands and countless trains of mules and donkeys were brought from the imperial stables in many cities and villages.

Other books

Apocalypse Now Now by Charlie Human
Best Friends Forever by L.A. Thompson
Afterlife Academy by Admans, Jaimie
The Summer Deal by Aleka Nakis
Paranormal Erotic Romance Box Set by Lola Swain, Ava Ayers
A Spoonful of Sugar by Kerry Barrett
Provocative Peril by Annette Broadrick
Birdkill by Alexander McNabb