The Forgotten: Aten's Last Queen (59 page)

BOOK: The Forgotten: Aten's Last Queen
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Here he was. He stood before me, one step lower than I. His eyes met mine. Even down a stair, he was taller than I was. I couldn’t help but chuckle a little. Then I raised the crown above me and dropped down to my knees. The crowds followed my lead, and all bowed before Pharaoh.

The world became silent.

“Mighty King, Neb-Kheperu-re, your lands welcome you home. Exalted is the White Crown of Tutankhamun, exalted is the Red Crown of Tutankhamun upon which I present to you now. Take what is yours. Your people rejoice this day as do I,” I said with pride. My voice was loud and echoed on the stones around us.

Nahkt-min held out his hands, and Pharaoh set in his palms the war crown. He then took the Pshent crown from my fingers and put it over his closely cropped hair. It looked perfect there.

Pharaoh spoke as he took my hand and pulled me up to a stand, “Lady of the South and the North, Lady of the Shores of Horus, Mistress of the Two Lands, and King’s Great Wife
Whom He Loves
, I have returned home.”

When I looked into his fiery eyes, he moved quickly and drew my lips to his. It was a kiss I had never felt from him before. It was wild, passionate, and starved. It was as if he meant to conquer me instead of the lands outside of ours. The only thing that brought me out of the intensity was the crowd. As Tutankhamun drew back, I could see the people all on their feet and whooping for us. Nahkt-min rushed to his wife next and gave her the same. Again, the people cheered.

Tutankhamun took my hand in his and raised them above our heads. We faced the crowds and waved to them.

The world felt perfect.

*****

It had been a joyous seven days. Tutankhamun had returned in time for the Festival of Ptah, South of His Wall, which is a celebration at the Ptah Temple. But the celebration of his return continued onward after the holiday.

At the end of these days, though, the road became bumpy. Something was not being said. Something was hidden. It wasn’t until the end of the festival that I began to hear how the campaign really went.

The afternoon meeting had started out well. We all sat together, my husband and me, Ay, Maya, Nahkt-min, High Priest Ptahemhat, the high priest’s first appointee Meryptah, and a few other commanders from the army. Pelican, carp, and dates had been served as the main course. Beer and wine were poured. Maya was again proudly discussing the results of the taxation system. Two collectors had been found falsifying their records and were thrown in prison. Two priests from Ptah’s House were elected to take over those spots.

Then it was Ay’s turn to speak. “Pharaoh, happy though your return might be, what did your endeavor accomplish? I see no more slaves or goods. Was there a point to your little playtime in the desert?”

The room went still at his words, a choking silence settling over us all.

Nahkt-min put a hand on Pharaoh’s arm and responded calmly. “Times have changed since you were a commander, High Vizier. The Hittites are cunning. They use deceit and games. We learned much from our
playtime
, and have started planning out our next attacks.”

“You have commissioned two separate year-long ventures to take back what is ours. The first with Horemheb failed, and now you failed.”

Tutankhamun stood and slapped the table with his hands, “How dare you. You were not there. You cannot bring down such judgment!”

“And neither were the people. Yet what will they say when they hear of another failure?” Ay’s voice slithered back. “I speak their concerns is all.”

“We will give them something else to think about. We could build another temple or continue restoration of the burial grounds.” My husband was stuttering slightly. It surprised me. He seemed genuinely upset but did not want to let it out.

“Then maybe you should have tried that instead first of making yourself fit into a cloak that you clearly were and are still too small to fill.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You know what it means. You are crooked and have not proven yourself strong enough to fix it. Oh, you can mask it, compensate for it with tricks here and there, but it is still there at the end of the day. You cannot even bring a son into the world.” Ay shot his gaze over to me. “Why did you even bother coming back? You probably would have found more honor dying out in the fields fighting for our people than returning a failure.”

Nakht-min stood and unsheathed his dagger. Tutankhamun collapsed back on his chair and covered his face with his hands. I got up and went to his side, wrapping my arms around him and shielding his view of Ay. I provided a shield made of my flesh and my bones against Ay’s tongue. I felt such revulsion at Grandfather that I feared retching on Pharaoh. But I had to be strong for my beloved.

“Fifteen lashes for such words! He blasphemies against Pharaoh.” I cried out. I could not see Ay anymore as my vision blinded with my tears. The guards could see, though. They stepped over and each grabbed an arm.

“You punish those who speak the truth?” Ay asked calmly.

“I punish those who attack Pharaoh. Words or bronze weapons, it makes no difference,” I hissed back, letting my anger take hold. “Keep talking and I will cut out your tongue next.”

“No!” It was Tutankhamun. He picked up his head and slowly came to a stand, brushing my arms aside. I stepped back. Nahkt-min put his dagger to rest.

Tutankhamun turned to Ay. “You are cruel and mean-spirited, but your words are true. I have failed. I will throw myself at the gods’ mercy and ask for an answer to this mess I have caused. There will be no blood today.”

The guards let Ay go and walked to their stations. I stood stunned. How could Tutankhamun let him speak such words? To let it go just invited it to return once again. My own time on the throne had taught me such. Why did he choose to ignore this blatant attack to his position?

His voice sailed on, smooth and low pitched. “Nakht-min, gather the people and tell them of our defeat. We will return again to the battlefield at the beginning of the new year. For now, we will regroup and recruit.

“Maya, if you could, organize a banquet for the families of our soldiers. I would like to honor those who gave their lives for our endeavors, perhaps at the end of the Opet Festival. I want it to be the grandest banquet this city has seen.

“Thank you all for your counsel. I must visit with my gods now.”

And he left. It was not just in body. I believe his ka left then too. It was out hunting desperately to slay the thing that had gone wrong.

*****

Why must everything last only a moment? What a wicked word…
moment
. It is too short a time, too small a space. Why can’t there be more than just moments in our lives? Why can’t happiness last for an eternity? Not moments; my life grasped in vain for more than one mere moment.

The people were not happy. It had been four new moons since Tutankhamun entered the city. Since then, word had spread about his military campaign and what little success it brought. Citizens were unhappy. They questioned Pharaoh and his right to rule. They did not believe him to be from the bloodline of Amun but a descendant of heretics and chaos. Their confidence in us had fallen into the cracks between the building stones and trampled by the feet of the people. They wanted a god, a success, and not a standstill.

The social anxiety was all so new. He had been nothing but loved before he left. He had fought hard to win back our lands, but the Hittites stood their ground and did not relent to the charging pharaoh. As before, they returned home to regroup and restrategize. The people were not appeased and had no patience for anything but a conquering king.

Tutankhamun was crushed. He took everything personally. He withered into a state of remorse that reminded me of when our daughter had been born. He was moody and disgusted with himself. He rarely made appearances or dinner parties. I continued to oversee the courts and other petitions. I let him have his privacy despite the fact that I had to do everything with Ay standing next to me, silently disapproving everything I did.

The one thing I missed the most about these days was my absence from Tawaret. Tia kept watch over her, but I missed being able to see her after her studies, talk with her, read to her. With Pharaoh home, she did not come to my bedchamber anymore to sleep. I felt alone. Sadly, each night my husband kept himself shut away in his own room, and now I had no time with my daughter either.

Tutankhamun had come to me almost every night that first month home, but I had not seen him much since then. To my own personal dismay, Mutbenret announced another pregnancy. Yet I was still empty inside. Yes I was happy for her, but why could I also not give that gift to Tutankhamun? I knew it would renew his ka. Each morning I stood before the mirror and stared at the barren husk that composed my body. Was my womb stolen as my daughter’s breath had been? What was wrong with me?

The days blurred into each other, and I wished we could return to Waset. Each night I felt ready to leave Ay behind, take my family from here, and travel back to a city that had always given us love. Why did we have to remain? It was obvious the people did not want to see us. Maybe they would forgive if we gave them space. Could our absence help them? Staying here felt like self-inflicted torture.

It wasn’t until the beginning of Second Peret that Tutankhamun appeared again in court. Though his eyes were dimmer than before, he took the throne and began his duties as if he had always been there. Strangely, he did not meet my gaze. He simply took the seat I had vacated for him. I left him to his new burdens and went to my quarters for a nap. I had never been much of a mid-day napper, but my body felt overdrawn and needed a moment.

I felt like an old mule when I entered my room. Even the sight of Tia putting my clothes away did not lighten my emotional heaviness. As I flopped down onto my left side on the mattress, she came over, sat on the empty side, and slid a linen over my body.

I could feel her begin to lift her weight off the bed, but I did not want her to leave. I quickly grasped her hand within mine. She settled back down next to me.

“What was your daughter’s favorite story as a child?” I asked her.

“She always liked stories of magic and wizards. There was one about a man who sculpted a clay crocodile, and when you threw it into a stream of water, it would transform into a gigantic living crocodile that would eat the man’s enemies.”

“Did this man do anything for the good of his people? Was he only led by his greed to smite those around him?”

Tia gently began to braid pieces of my hair, “Well, the tale is supposed to teach us about telling the truth and being faithful to the one you love.”

“Am I being true to
my
love? What would the magician throw at me, Tia? Who is it that I am loyal to? Myself? Pharaoh? Amyntas?”

“You are loyal to everyone at once.” Tia responded kindly. Her fingers twisted themselves into a new patch of my hair. How quickly they could move and weave.

“But that also means I’m loyal to no one. No one is given my full attention. How can you love a piece of someone and not their whole heart?” I responded weakly. My body felt heavier than it had when I was walking. My bones were made of bronze now.

“It’s not about finding meaning in what the magicians do in stories, it’s what
we do
because of them that gives them meaning. We make choices. We learn.” She paused, perhaps waiting for me to respond, but even thinking about these things felt like a challenge. So she carried on, as she always had for me, “I may remember most of the tale. Would you like me to tell it to you?”

I closed my eyes and nodded my head yes. I let nothing else fill me except the sound of Tia’s voice, comforting and calm. I let this moment be all that filled my heart.

*****

I sat in the litter alone as the procession traveled through the streets. We had finished morning worship and were now on our way to court to meet with petitioners and prosecutors. Though Tutankhamun spoke very little to me, he did ask that I sit beside him during the court proceedings. I contributed almost nothing, and I found my days awash with monotony. My voice was lost somewhere in the past, and it seemed only I noticed its absence.

There was a gentle breeze this morning, and the curtains which fell about my seat trembled in its wake. As the fabric would flutter back, I could catch glimpses of people walking here and there.

I remembered riding this litter with Tawaret. It was so magical then. People’s eyes wandered our way with joy at our passing. Just a few seasons since then, passersby largely ignored our entourage. A few children would smile and wave gleefully, but overall, our presence was overlooked. We took up the breadth of the street and became a nuisance they wished not to bother with. Again, my voice was lost. Time had left me behind. I was the dust that drifted away from present actions. I was what was lost in the breeze as life moved on.

In the midst of my mournful emotions, I thought I glimpsed a familiar face in the passing crowds. We had almost made it through the market vendors, and then I spotted his face emerging as if from nowhere.

It felt like a dream was walking by. Everything around him slowed as I watched him striding. My eyes held an image of a very tall, dark-skinned, and heavily muscled man. Thin brown linens framed his physique, and worn sandals covered his feet.

“Stop!” I called out. My servants halted and placed the litter on the ground. I quickly stepped out, barely noticing the guards flanking my sides.

The man noticed and ducked into an alley. Caution seemed to scream in my heart. This could be a set up to get me alone. A captured queen was valuable commodity. But I did not listen. Something else entirely pushed me forward.

Where did he go?

I remembered his face. I knew that face! Where was he? Dark, tall… ahead of me was a rustle. Sand had recently been kicked up. I had to catch up.

“Sir, please stop!” I called out.

I quickened my pace. I saw a flash of linens puff out as the man turned down another alleyway in between modest dwellings.

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