The Forgotten: Aten's Last Queen (38 page)

BOOK: The Forgotten: Aten's Last Queen
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And we all bowed before our blessed king.

 

Be Steady When You Think Of Him
1322 B.C
.

Funeral Procession of Pharaoh Tutankhamun

The flotilla was being prepared. His furniture, clothes, weapons, and other personal items were being loaded. Soon, we would board the boat and sail across, east to west, following the course of the sun. Then we would begin the long parade to his tomb with his possessions and body in tow.

His body would go in a boat after ours. It pained me to know I could not be with him during this time. Soon he would be locked away from me, and this time was all I had left.

I sat up from my gilded bed with a headache. I probably should not have had that last glass of wine before bed. I could still taste the afterthought of it on my bottom lip. Servants instantly buzzed to life like flies on a wall stirred up by the flick of a hand. They would not have let me sleep late, but they stood ready to spring when I finally awoke.

Quickly, they led me to my morning washing. The servants did all the work for me. I just had to lay there and nurse my aching head as they cleansed my body. I was scoured with soap and water. Then my skin was freshly shaved and my fingernails clipped.

Emerging from the warm waters, I was dried, and scented oil was rubbed into my skin. I had one small bottle left of my mother’s, and it was for today that I would use its last. From there, my hands and feet were buffed and hennaed. My hair was also brushed, plaited, and then pinned atop my head. I would be wearing a heavy wig today. Then the servants painted my face.

During all of this, I thought of nothing. I could not. This day was for him and not about my emotions. I would honor him this day. It was too easy to lament the life we should have had. It was much harder to press on for someone else, think of them first over yourself. This is what I had to do today. This day was for Tutankhamun. I may have felt a strong connection with another man, but Tutankhamun had been my companion, my most trusted, and someone I had deeply loved. Life without him did not seem right.

As I left the tiled bath area, I began to imagine the look he would give me if he were here. He would sit next to me, feet crossed, hands on his crooked foot, always trying to fix his imperfection, and I would tell him that in a day I would be married to Ay. His nose would wrinkle up, and he would stick out his tongue like a child. Then we would both laugh loudly. It had been so easy to laugh with him. Together, we did not have to be adults. We could still live as children did, be immature, and let things be simple between us.

A tall, dark-skinned servant held up a rectangular drape in front of me. My vision of his face disappeared, and I returned to the day ahead of me. My eyes caught subtle lotus patterns sewn into the garment giving the white linen a whisper of color. I lifted my hands and presented my back to her. She wrapped the linen around me starting across my waist. The top pieces were swept down over my shoulders, down my breasts, crisscrossing behind my back, and back around to the front of my waist. She then tied it together quickly. Wordlessly, she stepped away as women came before me with jewelry.

I would glow in the sun when it was all done. I had bands slid up from my hands and positioned in the middle of my upper arms. Then more bands were slipped onto my wrists. Rings were place on every finger. Earrings were hung about my ears. I could feel their weight as soon as they were placed, pulling down on me. Around my neck, a broad collar was fastened. It was adored with blue lotus blossoms, buds, and interspersed with poppy petals. Finally, onto the tips of my fingers were placed gold finger covers. Created from a mold of my hand, they fit perfectly over each finger as long as my nails were trimmed down. They caught the light, and my mind flashed back to Tutankhamun’s crowning.

That first day in Waset had been so overwhelming for me. I could almost taste the fear I had experienced seeing the masked figures of Amun, Djehuty, Horus, Dunawy, and the hound Seth as they had purified Tutankhamun. Amun had also worn coverings like these on his fingers. I had never seen them before then. After that day, Tutankhamun had worn them for public appearances. When it was accepted by the viziers that I would also appear next to him, they were made for me as well.

I tapped my thumb and middle finger together, listening to its tinny pulse. My husband used to do that when he was trying to get my attention during a boring council meeting in which we were being largely ignored. This had been during our first years when everyone thought they could control us.

For a time, we proved them wrong.

“An.”

I looked up to see Tia. She held the wig I would wear. The base was bursting with thin, tight plaits to give the wig its shape. Thick luxurious curls covered the plaits and gave the wig a soft, supple appearance. As she placed it over my head, the hair fell beneath my shoulders. When Tia stepped back, the servants hustled in and began to fasten it in place with hair pins. I could feel the ivory pins scratch against my scalp. I did not mind, though. Some women complained of such things. I did not much notice the abuse my scalp took. In fact, I had always enjoyed people playing with my hair. My scalp was not very sensitive when it came to touch (or the occasional scratch).

Finally was the Seshed Circlet. Placed over my wig, it was a solid gold band. The uraeus reared up at its front, colored with blue stones. Around the band were ribbed silver circles, textured to mimic shining stars, and inlayed with colored glass. The back half of the Circlet had thin bands of gold, which hung from the silver stars making it look like gold was pouring down my hair.

Tia took my hand and led me to the bronze mirror. Then she shooed away the servants. They rushed from the room like a gust of wind. Tia and I stood alone.

“This is it,” I whispered. “Tia, how am I supposed to say goodbye? I have loved another, and I have begged a foreign man to become my husband. Everything I have done has betrayed him. He knows all my secrets now. I am not sure I can face his image.”

“An, you gave him everything you could. You have also done everything to preserve your family’s name and his name. He knows that you serve your people first and your heart second. And he always knew about Amyntas.”

“Why is it I could not be happy with him? Why did my desires always take me back to Amyntas? Why is my heart so confused? Tutankhamun was always so good to me.”

“Only the one God knows, An.”

“He never took another wife. Why did he not? He could have found someone who loved him better than I!”

“An, my sweet, he needed no one else. He found happiness with you. He knew you loved him. Even I could see you did.”

I could feel my face tighten as the emotions bubbled up my throat. I took in a heavy breath.

Tia again spoke, giving me strength and centering my thoughts, “Face this day, An, proudly. He would want you there, every step of the way with him.”

I nodded my head. Tia, ever the nurse, took a cloth and wiped my eyes and nose. She then freshened up the colors that I had begun to smear with my sadness.

“Did I ever tell you thank you?” I asked.

“You never needed to.”

“Which means I never did.”

Tia smiled at me and looked into my eyes, setting down the paint brushes.

“Thank you, Tia, for my life. It is thanks to you that have been able to face it and really live it. Thank you.”

I took her hands and squeezed them. Any closer contact would have upset my appearance, and I had little time left for further touchups before the ships departed.

“Let me walk you down,” Tia said, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. It abruptly struck me that I had never seen her cry before.

“No, stay here and rest. I have kept you to myself long enough. Be with your family. They are the most precious of gifts.”

I turned away from her and made my way out of my room. As the doors parted, two bodyguards flanked me. Like shadows brought forth from the sunlight, their appearance was natural to me. We quickly made our way to the Royal Quay, our feet clipped and staccato on the tiles.

The Aten was beginning to rise.

Chapter Two

While My Hand is in Your Hand

1331 B.C. - Day 15 of the Year

Tutankhaten and I walked through the palace guided by a barefoot and wrinkled servant who had been with our grandfather. The only sound was the flick of Tutankhaten’s cane against the floor tiles. About us, the palace looked and smelled of fresh plaster. Everything had been made new for our arrival. As we were used to opulent rooms and decorations, we did not feel intimidated by this new palace. There were differences, though, beyond the fact that everything around us was aged.

The art was such a different style than what we had grown up with. Everyone pictured on the walls here had the same sharp, thin body shape. Nothing looked unique. Everything seemed a remake of what came before. In the great temple, I had a hard time telling the work of one pharaoh from another. The only difference was small features to the face, but even that was hard to spot. Otherwise, everything was rigid and impassive. How could anyone feel moved by these portraits? There was nothing for a person to connect to, and the only meaning for these carvings was to invoke worship. Worship seemed to be all the pharaohs from before cared about. It was the closest they wanted to come to their citizens. Only devotion counted.

I wanted to provide the people with more. After a circuit through some of the central areas of the palace, we finally entered the main throne room for the first time. Tutankhaten laughed when he looked up to the golden chair. The steps leading up to it were decorated with pictures of bound prisoners. When the servant left us, Tutankhaten jumped up and down the steps on one foot and laughed at how he was “stomping” the enemy.

“Look, An, I am trampling them! The enemy has already been defeated! Even my bent foot can defeat these men!”

I could not help but laugh at the innocence. It was refreshing and exhilarating. There was so much tension and uncertainty otherwise.

He waved me toward him. “Come up and join me! I’ve never seen anything like this!”

I took a tentative step onto the first carved row. Tutankhaten giggled at my soft movement.

“What do you fear? Men such as these quiver before us! Behold the mighty pharaoh and his queen!” he finished, imitating a deep booming voice.

So I jumped harder. Soon enough, I was hopping as hard as I could up and down the stairs next to him. The hall rang with our laughter. It echoed back to us. It blocked out the rest of the world and held us in a place where we could be children for a few moments.

“Eager to squelch the dissidents, my king?”

We froze and looked up. It was Horemheb. Tutankhaten breathed a sigh of relief. He picked up his cane from the throne it leaned against and hobbled over to him.

“Do you think there will still be time for lessons now that I am king? Or can I now accompany you to reclaim our lands?” he eagerly inquired.

Horemheb took in a loud breath and put a hand on Pharaoh’s shoulder, “There are many lands to retake. The time will come for you to join us, but now is not the time. You are needed here. But I could take you out hunting.”

“What good will hunting do?” Tutankhaten said, his voice heavy.

“Perhaps you will find it a fair compromise. Here there is ostrich, which is chased across the sands on chariots. I used to hunt with my father when I was a small boy. This will be excellent practice for when you are in a real battle. When we travel to Man-nefer, there is much more to fish and hunt. Duck is the best to practice with an arrow or throw stick. You cannot predict its movements, just as when you are chasing the enemy. I think it would make excellent training for you. Would this suffice, Pharaoh, for now?”

Tutankhaten’s eyes regained some of its sparkle. “Promise me that when I’m old enough, I can go.”

Horemheb laughed deeply. “I promise. When you are older, then we will lead the army, side by side! The enemies will
quiver
in your wake.”

I could see Tutankhaten’s chest puff up just a little bit at the thought. It made me smile. I could imagine him leading the charge with fire in his eyes. He had some of Father’s passion in him. One day, he would lead an army and smite all those who dared defy him. And perhaps when “one day” became today, he would rise to be even greater than us all.

*****

A small procession made its way down the valley. It was near where our grandfather had chosen to be buried, and it was where our father would now rest. His wooden coffin was carried by slaves along with a few personal items to be placed in the tomb.

Horemheb led us. Ay was not in our group. Tutankhaten requested that he be left out of tonight’s activity. With Horemheb was his favored commander: Nakht-min. I questioned this decision, but Horemheb assured us of his loyalty.

The road was not easy. Our feet stumbled and kicked up rock and dust everywhere. I could feel warm blood from cuts trickling thickly through my toes. Tutankhaten refused any help. He would make it down on his own merit. The coffin went before us, slowly moving down the hillside to an area opposite from where Grandfather had been buried. The watchmen had been relieved by Horemheb for the next few hours, so we were completely alone.

Our torches created a great snake, undulating slowly over the terrain. The land surrounding us stood waiting, patiently, to swallow us in shadow. We were disturbing its slumber.

Once on steady ground, we did not have long to travel before we could see an area dug out from the rock face. Horemheb stopped in front of it.

“This is what I could find. I believe it was to be Djhutmose’s. Your grandfather had the interior decorations destroyed and the entrance blocked by rocks. We’ve cleared out enough of the entrance for the coffin, but I’m afraid the inside is not much to look at. There will be no carvings of your father’s name, only that which we bring in.”

Tutankhaten took Horemheb’s torch and looked inside. He came back out again and sneezed. Shaking his head and handing the torch back, he said, “It will have to do. Hopefully, he can rest here safely. Thank you, General. You will be rewarded greatly for your services. All of you tonight will be.”

BOOK: The Forgotten: Aten's Last Queen
5.83Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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