Shadow of the Sun (The Shadow Saga) (15 page)

The Pharaoh raised his golden goblet, “Blessings on your new arrival. Let us toast Ankh-es-en-pa-Aten.” Meti glowed. Father proved himself to be the bull of his mother. His seed had taken not once, but three times to produce heirs for Ti-Yee. We set sail with a good strong breeze at our backs, which led us directly to the banks of the Luxor, and the harem of Amun. The group disembarked to the cheers of the gathered crowd. I covered my ears. The guards escorted us to the platform viewing place, or maru, by the lake in front of the grand Luxor Temple. Exotic trees and flowers had been imported from Punt as a gift to my Grand Djedti from the Pharaoh.

“Hail to Thebes on this most auspicious day of the Solstice and the ceremonial start of the Opet Festival. Let us bless Amun-Ra for the next one hundred days of this yearly inundation. The rise of the Nile feeds our families, our livestock and provides Khemit with the ability to feed the world. There is no finer spelt than the gold that grows in our fields. With every morsel we put to our mouths, let us not forget where our goodness comes from. Verily, this water, this life-giving force, brings wealth to our land.”

Mery-Ptah then took the stage.

"Praise giving to Amun.”

He summoned up a beautiful young girl to be adorned with flowers.

She sat on a gilded throne.

“Let us praise the name of the Deity of the Shadow. I offer this akh, this faithful child servant from the Virgins of Amun up to the Lord of Secrets. Beware; it is Amun who protects you from the bite of the jackal in your sleep. He is your savior from starvation, disfiguring diseases, and deplorable destitution.

“Behold this daughter, pure of soul, chosen as the High Holy Consort To Amun. Her sacrifice will assure an excellent crop. Bless the nameless one whose blood will be devoured in exchange for a prosperous new year,” said the High Priest coaxing the frenetic crowd.

She was so beautiful. I hoped I would get to sit on stage one day. The Sesh deposited their offerings upon the tables as the scribes noted the degree of their generosity. The eager Sesh handed their worldly power over to the priests. As the crowd dispersed, we boarded the palanquins headed toward our new Gem-Pa-Aten to unveil our temple. Meti held my hand. Feeling nervous, my Father tapped his fingers on the cushions. “This will be our crowning glory,” he whispered.

Our family’s tribute to Aten would finally make a presence in this world of Hanuti control. Unlike the secretive Amun Temples, ours would be open to all for freedom of worship. How joyous I felt. The reason I came would be completed. There would be no dark rooms or private sanctuaries that exclude the unwashed masses.

“Dearest, you will make holes in our silk cushions,” said Meti.

“My Heart, I have not had a chance to visit my beloved temple since I returned from Nubia late last night. I desired to approve all the last details, the attention to the final paintings and statuary, but there was not enough time,” said Father.

“But Mery-Ptah sent word that your orders were carried out to perfection. Why worry? These artisans have been doing the same work for generations.”

“Of course, my Heart, all will be well.” Yet, Father continued to drum the truth of his feeling upon my leg.

“Netri,” I pulled his sleeve. “Why did they bring that girl up on stage?”

“I abhor that
Heka Tekhennu
ritual,” said Father. “The priests have used it for ages. It sickens me. She will be ritually sacrificed and her blood will be drunk by the priests in a ceremony,” He cast his eyes downward and a tear trickled down his cheek. “I am sorry to tell you the truth.” I ripped at his sleeve. “We must stop it! That is horrible. How could they do that?”

“We tried to prevent it. The Amunites refused to give up this tradition. They argued that there would be chaos if the Sesh felt deprived of a tradition which ensures abundance.”

When those Amun priests kidnapped me I could have been that girl. How could anyone honor the murder of an akh?

“Your father refuses to attend this festival just for that reason,” added Mother.

Father shuffled. “Merit-Aten, little one, your first public ritual to Aten is only moments away. Your HeMeti tells me of your diligent practice.” “Yes, Father. I have worked hard.”

We traveled north to Karnak. The outline of the grandiose Gem- Pa-Aten stood covered by scaffolding and huge red coverings. Why had it not been unwrapped? We mounted the platform in front of the temple to perform for the curious crowd. The Aten was the last stage of the sun. The age of enlightenment in opposition to the dark age of Amun, the Shadow of the Sun. But now that our Solar Temple was finished, the Amunites would have to accept us. Today we would usher in revolutionary change. Our destiny would be assured. Peace would prevail.

Father raised both hands to the sky. The Aten followers in the crowd mirrored his movement.

“Oh, living Aten. Beginning of Life. Each day you bless us as You rise in the Eastern horizon. Each day you renew us and save the earth from darkness. You warm and love us. Your light penetrates every living soul that walks, crawls, flies and swims.

“Your luminescence can never be owned, nor bought, nor sold. Though seemingly we cannot touch you, one may cast her eyes to the great, shimmering orb which graces our noonday sky. Your rays bind us all with love.”

My father’s voice was tender in its strength. The Sesh hungered for more because his style so contrasted with the Amounts fiery words of fear. Instead, he spoke of a loving Aten. Like a long awaited song, this new philosophy would bring harmony to the masses.

He wore his tall silvery-blue oval cap with the golden cobra mounted above his forehead. His skin glistened with spikenard oil.

Meti checked her appearance in the mirror. She touched up the color on her lips and pinched her cheeks. Perfection. Lifting the sistra, she rattled the copper disks.

That cued us. Meti stepped up behind him. Hep-Mut encouraged me to take my place in the rear, rattling my sistra. Father and Mother picked up their two incense cones heavily scented with rare white lotus oil. We raised our arms to the Aten. The three of us, in perfect unison, performed our sacred dance.

The Sesh roared their approval. The anticipation grew to unveil this new Solar Temple to Aten. With a nod to the attendants, the red curtains fell revealing this anticipated new work.

Silence.

Then horror.

T
he gasps and shock from the terrorized crowd made many flee. The curious Thebans who came hoping for upliftment were repelled. We twisted to see the dramatic walls of the Gem-Pa-Aten. Something had gone wrong.

In the crowd, I spied Sit-Amun cackling, flanked by her smug looking jackal pack of Hanuti. Confusion wove its way like a hideous snake among us. Instead of the beauteous display of worshipers from all walks of life, distorted and abnormal looking Sesh lifted their hands to the Solar orb. In return, our orange sun extended its hands toward them in veneration.

Meti yanked her earring. The corners of her mouth turned down. Knowing that look, I cringed. My father grasped his heart and shuddered. Regaining his composure, he then smiled and lifted his hands jubilantly skyward toward the Aten.

“Behold the new Solar Temple to the Aten. I pronounce that this structure is unlike any other ever created. Together, we will step into a new dawn. That calls for a new vision. Even our art cannot be portrayed like the art of days gone by. Let us open our minds and our eyes to new ways of seeing.

“Let the Gem-pa-Aten be a tribute to our freedom of peaceful worship. Hence, from this day forward, I change my name from Amenhotep to Akhet-Aten –Yes, the Glory of the Aten.”

For those who stayed, he won their hearts. He could only see ripe kernels in every ear of corn, no matter what mold might appear on top. My heart swelled. Yet Meti’s face appeared as hard as stale bread. Everywhere our eyes fell throughout the great mansion of temple rooms, the view shocked us. The expert workmanship displayed bright vivid colors, but the reliefs Father had previously etched were replaced with repulsive drawings.

Underneath the carving of the sun’s long rays, many hands streamed forth holding ankhs exactly as the council agreed upon to symbolize the Aten. However, I did not recognize the three people who received this breath of life. A man with a protruding jaw, spindly arms, and a full belly with rounded hips balanced upon skinny legs, followed by a woman and child both with jutting jaws, enormous heads and similar bodies.

“Hep-Mut, who are they?”

My dwarf seemed distracted.

I traced the form with my finger, searching for the identity of these mysterious people. What happened to my picture? Father had promised. Tears sprang to my eyes. I had waited so long. Maybe he forgot. After all, he was busy.

Sit-Amun swished up next to us. She gloated. Our defeat reflected in her eyes.

“All of Thebes regales in this dedication to your great sun, Aten. What do you think of the way you will be remembered, little mouse?” she said pointing to the hideous girl in the relief.

Color splashed my cheeks. Humiliation welled up for my stupidity.

She used this great temple to embarrass us. Could all the Sesh be laughing at me? Could my head really be that ill proportioned? Everything I learned in school about the art and statues of my Khemitian ancestors being realistic was a lie. Hep-Mut pulled me into the back hall. I retched and tasted bitterness in my mouth.

Hiding my face in Hep-Mut’s cloak, she ushered me back to the palanquin. Meti yanked my father’s hand, leading him away. Sit-Amun and the Hanuti had cast a shadow upon our day.

In the safety of our personal chambers, Meti’s unharnessed rage came to light.

“How could we have been so blind as to trust the Hanuti? They made a mockery of our glory day.” She threw her perfume bottle against the wall. Amber oil streaked the whitewashed wall.

“Let us not hop to conclusions. Time may reveal the opposite reaction,” said Father as he lent a comforting hand.

This did not appease her.

“The Hanuti made those horrible images to get even with us. The Hanuti ignored your well-marked lines and created entirely new images. They portrayed us as ugly monsters. This is an utter abomination! I will not tolerate this disrespect.” Her tortured words mixed with tears; her kohl eye liner dripped down her cheeks. The black streaks blighted her perfect cheeks, like the Hanuti marred our beautiful temple.