The Forgotten: Aten's Last Queen (21 page)

“You will both need to stay in here until we are sure you are not infected,” he told us sternly.

The door opened, and servants entered with our lunch. Ay exited from the open doorway after they had come in and began setting out our food.

Now we waited and hoped that Death wasn’t dining with us.

I looked back outside. NeNe’s picture had disappeared.

*****

Tutankhaten didn’t say much during our confinement. I tried to talk to him a little, but he usually gave one-word answers.

Four days later, we were informed of Neferneferuaten’s death. I couldn’t fathom how she had caught it. The plague seemed to be everywhere. Thankfully, we were allowed out of my room at this time, having shown no signs ourselves.

Maia was still gone. We heard no word of her health. Tia offered to let Tutankhaten stay with us until Maia returned. He was grateful and moved in a few of his personal items. I offered to let him sleep in my bed, but he refused. He slept on the cushioned chairs outside. He did not venture outside the room either. He would either read or play Senet by himself.

I worried greatly. His cries still left echoes in my heart. He had called Maia his mother. I guess it made sense as she had raised him. She even stayed in the same room as him to keep watch and be there whenever he called. It was probably how mothers were outside of the palace. Inside these walls, mothers left the care of their children to others.

She was also the only loving presence he had. Everyone else in my family seemed to stay away from him because of the way he looked. I had never thought of Tia as my mother, but my mother was still alive. My brother’s was not. He had never laid eyes on her. The walls all showed him with Maia, reaching out to each other, touching, and smiling. Now his security was gone. He grieved terribly for her. I loved my nurse, but I do not think I would be as bereft at her loss. Our connection was not as strong as Tutankhaten’s and Maia’s. Even the bond with my mother was not as strong. Something about that thought struck me as incongruous.

On a morning when the clouds were strong enough to block Aten’s sharp gaze, I left the room to listen to the birds sing. Their voices in the morning were soothing, yet my heart was elsewhere. I was worried about those outside of the palace walls, worried about those in the workmen’s village. Even the sweetness of the birds’ harmonies could not belay my fears. Each morning, the birds welcomed the day with song, but I could not feel it penetrate my heart. It was the same songs, and it was always light and joyous. The birds never tired of the song. No matter what happened the day before, they always greeted Aten with their voices. Their intentions were always joyful. As I thought of my sisters, I knew praises of song would not escape my lips anytime soon. I decided to go back to the room early. My mood was too overshadowed to share in the day’s melodies.

As I opened my door, I heard crying. I rushed to the sound and found my brother on the floor pulling at his curved foot trying to make it straight and crying from the effort. I dropped down next to him.

“What are you doing? You’ll hurt yourself!”

He let go and attempted to control his tears. His breath came in gulps as he slouched down into a ball. I put my arms around him and waited. When he had finally regained his breath, he sat up out of my arms.

“Why am I this way? Does Aten find me to be a joke?”

I was stunned at what he said, “No, why would He? You are not a joke. You are my brother.”

“I want to walk with both feet on the ground. I do not want this cane. People look at me and laugh.”

“I am sure you will grow straight and tall one day. Give Aten time to heal you.”

“I have given Him time. I want to walk without being pointed at. Someday, I will ride chariots and be a leader in battle. I will never be a pharaoh, and I don’t care! Someday I will be a great general. Someday, I will be a man, and I will make Pharaoh proud.”

A few tears escaped his eyes, but he refused to let any others follow. His face was one of determination. It was fierce.

“I know you will. I can see it in you. You will make it happen because you believe it.” I stood up with an idea playing in my heart. “Let’s go into the main area. You’ve played Senet by yourself long enough. How would you like a real challenger?”

He smiled a bit at my taunting. “Then you will soon taste bitter defeat.”

Tutankhaten did not use his cane when he came out into the main area, but his limp was pronounced. We sat down at the Senet table. It was made from ebony wood. The game pieces were held in a drawer on the side. The legs of the game table came to the floor in the shape of lion’s paws. The 30 game squares on the playing board were made from ivory, and the table was decorated with gold around all four sides. Tutankhaten got out the pieces, and handed me the cone shapes.

Tutankhaten held the up throw sticks in his hand. “Youngest first!”

I had not played the game in a while, but after a few rounds, it began to make sense again. The game was complicated, and it was surprising that someone as young as my brother could play so well. The game symbolized the passage of the deceased through the afterworld with resurrection dependent upon a player’s ability, and a little luck, to win the game. Some adults were extremely serious about the game, believing a win meant the gods favored them and would protect them. For our game, we decided to make up characters to see if their ka were worthy of the Afterlife.

“I will be a warrior pharaoh. I have to kill daily in defense of our borders. The enemy’s blood is on my hands as I take a mortal blow to the stomach,” Tutankhaten said. “I am tall, muscled, and an excellent swordsman. I have many wives at home and hundreds of sons. They stand as tall and straight as giants!”

I laughed. He certainly had tall
dreams
. “I have never heard of such a great pharaoh! Well, I will take the role of a queen who must become pharaoh. Her husband has died in battle with a mortal blow to the stomach. Now she must rule as Pharaoh and places the crown on her head. Everyone wants to marry her, but her love belongs to a common scribe who writes her fanciful tales of romance.”

Tutankhaten smiled. “Or maybe this queen sent her husband into battle knowing he would die so she could marry her scribe.”

“Only Osiris knows! Who will he welcome through his doors?” I replied ominously.

The afternoon came and went as we played again and again, seeing which of our characters was more worthy of the Afterlife. The characters became more elaborate and their situations more dramatic. Tutankhaten won most of the games. We finally took a break when the servants brought us our dinner. Tia had joined us by then, and we sat in a circle together eating. I had not seen my brother smile as much as he did that day.

Near the end of the meal, Tia’s eyes lit up as something popped into her memory, “Young Prince, I have great news for you. Nurse Maia is well. When the disease begins to lessen, she will return. She is safe in the harem’s quarters right now.”

My brother’s face wet with tears. He nodded this thanks and then left the room.

I looked at Tia and smiled. Life was calming down for once. Little did I know that death still lurked nearby.

*****

Father gathered us together in the Great Hall for a celebration. I saw pieces…pieces of what was left of the family. There were no others. I had insisted to Tutankhaten that he come, and I held his hand as we entered together. I told him to use his cane as it made his walking easier.

I noticed how much smaller the table seemed without Meketaten, NeNe, and Mother. Maia had not rejoined us yet. Pharaoh and his co-regent were side-by-side. May, the Royal Fan Bearer and father’s adjutant, was behind him. Merytaten sat next to Smenkhkare and wore the outfit of a queen. She looked beautiful with the blue crown of our mother’s on her head. She was known as the Great Wife at this point as Father had not chosen one for himself and Smenkhkare was shared ruler of the city. In her arms was Merytaten Tasherit. She had kept the baby close to her during the epidemic. I could see that the baby had grown fatter. Her fingers moved about constantly as if reaching for someone, reaching to be closer to another heart. Merytaten Tasherit’s wet nurse sat next to the two in case she was needed. On Pharaoh’s other side was Queen Mother Tiya, who looked very tired. Neferneferure, 4 years (almost 5 as she would say), and Setepenre, 3, were squirming in their seats next to Tiya. Last, Ay sat next to my sisters. There would have been room for two more, but Father had not invited his second wife and their daughter.

I led Tutankhaten over to the table and had him sit next to me. I did not look up at anyone as we sat, but I could feel eyes burning into my head. But it was only the family here today, so why should anyone care if “the broken one” sat with us? I was positive, though, that attempting this during a state festival would have assured a sharp punishment for me.

Father leaned over to May and told him to bring out dinner. May left to get the servers. As we sat and waited, father stood.

“My family, I am happy we have lived to see the end of these dark days. I am blessed to see my daughters doing so well. Construction has begun again on the new hall in honor of Merytaten’s husband and future regent of this city.”

It was obvious that Father was blatantly ignoring Tutankhaten as he continued, “I have kept a close counsel these past weeks with Queen Mother. She has had many wonderful ideas about how to build up our kingdom from here. First of all, the loss of Meketaten was disheartening, but plans are underway to show our lament in her passing. She will be remembered for eternity. She was a true daughter of the people. She thought of those around her first and her needs second. But now I must name a new Great Wife. I have not lost hope of producing a male heir for the throne and relieving Smenkhkare of the pressures of the double crown. They can weigh heavy on a man’s head especially as he frails with age.”

The servants, led by Father’s cup bearer, Pannefer, appeared. Dishes laden with meat and fruits were in their hands. Meanwhile, I sat stunned at Father’s voice. It was so flat. There was no joy or sadness to his speech. Anger began to melt my heart. How could he cooly brush aside Meketaten? She gave him her life to make him happy, and he was flicking her away like an errand fly by his ear, backhanding her into the past.

Father continued as the plates were set. “I would like to announce that my new Great Wife will be Ankesenpaaten.”

I took in a sharp breath. A jumble of questions that I could not make sense of suddenly burst out from what was left of my heart. How could it still be there? It was no longer beating. My chest began to burn, and I let go of the air still inside of me. Then the beating began once again.

Father looked straight at me, but there was still no joy in his face. I was being made his wife, and he could not even act like he was happy with me! My face turned red, which quickly spread across my cheeks to my ears and down my chest.

“When your bloods arrive, we will consummate our marriage. For now, you can move your things into the upper apartment. Your attendants will watch for your bloods, and then a new heir will be born. On this land, in this city, we will invite a strong male heir to the family throne. One who will be able to pick up the mantle of Pharaoh under the blessings of Aten.” Father then sat down and began the dinner.

This dining hall had brought so many shadows upon my life. One thought that did prevail among others was that Hathor could no longer protect me. He had claimed me as his own.

Lost in the river of my thoughts, I did not notice the commotion at first.

A plate dropped, breaking apart on the floor, its echo crashing throughout the hall.

I looked up and saw my grandmother attempt to stand up and then collapse on the table, arms outstretched before her, her armpits black.

For one breath, all was silent.

Then everything seemed to move around me. But the movement was slow to my eyes. I sat staring at Grandmother’s face. Her eyes were open, but her breath did not seem to fill her chest. Her lips moved as if trying to suck in any air she could. For a moment, her eyes met mine. They were wide. But the color in them seemed to fade as I looked at her. Her head jerked downwards as she coughed. Blood shot from her mouth and onto her left arm.

I thought of NeNe. Had death claimed her violently or come to her in the night as she slept? Did she suffer at the end? Was somebody there to hold her? I knew this answer would be no. Who would hold a child of the plague? How frightening to be left alone to die.

My father came up beside me and picked me up. He led the rush out of the hall and across the bridge. I do not remember anything of our flight to safety. All I saw was the sky above. The light was fading, and the Great Sea began to run its course. I wondered if Meketaten was up there traveling the sea going from island to shining island. Maybe she kept counsel with the gods as a former queen. Perhaps she was with Hathor now discussing my fate. I could see The Soul of Osiris, final resting place of the pharaohs, hanging brightly above me. Sopdet would make her appearance soon, and then the world would begin again. The lands would flood, and things would start over.

New life was coming…

*****

It took Grandmother only a day to die. The table, plates, and chairs were all burned from that night. Father went into a state of grief as I had not seen in him before. When my bloods came a few days later, he took no notice. He had no one to stand with him anymore. Nefertiti had been forced to leave, and his mother was now taken by the plague. During the 70 days of mourning, he did not often leave his room. Thankfully, the sickness seemed to leave the city with my grandmother’s ka. The population had decreased by a third. Mass graves were being dug for those yet to be tended to, those who had been left alone to die. Most of the victims were the men forced into harsh labor.

As the new Great Wife, I could no longer visit Amyntas. Instead, I sent Tia to make sure he had survived. I needed to tell him my sister’s death was not his fault. I had not found the time to give her the necklace. When I had come home the night before her passing, I should have awoken her. I should not have waited. Life does not stop and wait for anyone. Not even princesses. Especially not even queens.