Bruce P. Grether

 

Horizon of the Heart

The Royal Rebel Akhenatenand Nefertiti

 

Among the stars gods walked the house of heaven…

—   Ovid, The Metamorphoses, Book I

 

Part One: Calf of Morning

 

Chapter One:

Serpent and Bird

 

The day he nearly died was the first time the boy Akh understood for certain that he was truly alive.

Not a breath of breeze stirred the hot air held within the high walls of the garden. Blazing sunlight speared through interlaced fingers of palm leaves and fell softly through draped shawls of sycamore foliage. Even the voices of the insects and the birds seemed hushed, as if stunned already by the mid-morning heat.

The skinny six-year-old boy stepped carefully along a shady path behind beds of leafy mandrake plants.

He understood that the brilliant glitter of light that showered through the canopy overhead came down from the Sun Disk of Aten that reached its golden arms into the deep seclusion of the walled garden in the House of Queens at Malkata. The boy’s mother, the Empress Tiye, had taught him many things about Lord Aten.

This pathway was Akh’s private, magickal world. He considered the dusky way to be his own secret, known only to himself, though perhaps some of his mother’s many cats, and the monkeys, rabbits and tame gazelles of the garden also knew of it.

He felt happy to share his secret with all of those marvelous creatures.

He believed, however, that none of the many children of his father’s lesser queens and concubines knew of this place, for when all of the palace children played hide-and-seek in the compound, no one had ever discovered his place of concealment.

He also knew that he was no ordinary child, rather he felt special and unique among that extended family of abundant royal children. Though he seldom saw his father the God—the Great House Nebmaatra who was the Lord of Two Lands—his royal mother gave him as much attention as her prominence and duties allowed.

She was the incarnate Goddess, Great Royal Wife of the God, the Lady of the Two Lands—the Empress Tiye.

His beautiful and forbidding mother whose stern authority and anger everyone else feared, reserved her most tender affections and indulgences for him alone. The young boy even understood that in practice, Tiye actually governed Egypt on behalf of his chronically ailing and rather frivolous father. This fact made the boy extremely proud of his mother, as he was also extremely possessive of her, though as yet he scarcely comprehended the full significance of their bond. Nor could he truly grasp the immensity of the Two Lands that stretched along the great river, north and south.

Now amid motionless blue and gold dapples of shade, Prince Akh squatted down in the middle of the path that sketched its way along the southern wall of the compound.

He remained entirely unaware of the mortal danger that lurked so very close to him in his hiding place.

Sudden death hid itself perfectly even from hiskeen young awareness.

He was naked in the heat—except for a golden necklace, bracelets and earrings. His long narrow head was shaved but for the plaited side-lock of childhood over his right ear, its length secured out of his way with a golden clasp. His remarkable almond eyes were painted round with kohl, not only for the striking appearance this gave them, also for protection against the daytime Sun’s withering glare.

Akh peered over spreading mandrake foliage toward gaps of the brilliant daylight he had escaped for this partial shade. He heard a muted murmur from across lily pools—the ebb and flow of the laughter and the gossip of women and children, punctuated by shrieks of excitement and wild play. Now and then a harsh chatter of scolding…

Amid the relative cool and rich moist scents of soil and vegetation, he savored his hidden quality; he prized his separation from that entire familiar hubbub.

He was no ordinary boy, rather a lad of uncommon mental brilliance, strong will and uncompromising in his sense of himself, and yet of a gentle, sweet, and mild-mannered character. Soon the Five Holy Birthdays of the New Year will signal the onset of the annual Flood season, he knew.The rising of the great river—Iteru—will begin at any time to bring a spate of cooler and more humid weather. At an age when most Sons of the Great House had already been fostered to the House of Princes, young Akh was allowed to stay here, where he was happiest—among women and children.

Rather than offended by the fact that he had not been separated out from this realm of females and younger children, Akh felt special and privileged because of it. He knew that his splendid, fearsome mother Tiye wanted it so, every bit as much as he did.

He had no desire to emulate his handsome older brother Tuthmosis, the Falcon Prince, heir to the throne of the Two Lands, who had begun his military training and further education at Memphi far to the north in Lower Egypt, a place distant and quite different from Malkata. Though Akh bore the official name of Amunhotepafter their father Nebmaatra,—Tuthmosis was named for their grandfather.

This little Prince preferred his mother’s fond personal name for him: Akh, meaning radiant one, oreffective one. The name could also signify blessed dead, though Akh had little sense of the Dead, except as his Ancestors.

Similarly he could not wish to be like his emotionally remote, sickly and heavy-set father, any more than he wished to resemble his hot-headed, if strong and good looking older brother. Let Tuthmosis hurl spears, drive chariots and boast of hunting lions, and curse whenever he felt some kind of frustration, as he often seemed to.

Akh did not envy his older brother in any way.

If Akh was considered weak or effeminate for preferring gentler games among the girls, wading and swimming with the princesses in the garden pools and cruising with his mother aboard her private barge the Aten Gleams,on her private lake—he hardly cared what others thought of him. The only person whose opinion of him mattered was his mother… and possibly one tiny girl about his own age, a very special girl and intimate personal companion to him among the swarm of princesses in his sheltered world.

As a distinctly frail and homely child in a family of strong and handsome warriors over many generations, he had already learned to disregard the opinions of others and to enjoy his uniqueness—something Tiye actively encouraged.

This day—as usual—Akh remained much absorbed in his own thoughts, in fact his state of mind was much like dreaming while awake, so intensely did he wander in the rich magickal realm of his own perceptions and imaginings about things. After all this was the meaning of his beautiful mother’s name, Tiye: dream, wander, enjoy andwonder.

In reality he was hardly thinking at all; he felt embraced and shielded by the vibrant trees and the pungent, leafy shrubs that surrounded and sheltered him. Familiar sights, smells, and sounds saturated his awareness.

She has taught me this, my mother, he recalled,that all of this vegetation is no less alive than am I! All of it is given Life by the grace of the Beautiful Aten, the Lord of the Sun Disk!

That mystery enthralled him completely.

Now he stood up very slowly from his crouch, eyes wide and clear yet scarcely focused upon any single thing, rather in that diffuse mode of relaxed alertness without any particular object…

What happened to him in the next few seconds would ultimately determine the course of the history of the entire world.

His large flat feet moved him—almost unaware that he walked—through the motley of light and shade.

A long dark shape suddenly whipped upward from directly in front of him!

It towered above his head.

He froze.

For a moment, he saw nothing clearly, though he definitely heard the heavy slither, an abrupt rustle of leaves, and then a distinct sharp hiss jolted him from his reverie.

A dry reptilian odor filled his lungs.

Amazement and awe as much as terror fingered his spine with chords like the touch of a lute player upon his instrument. By its immense size and the distinct markings on its wide flared hood, he recognized this abrupt epiphany: An enormous cobra!

He understood with strange clarity amid the hectic hammering of the heart in his chest, this creature was extremely sacred, as well as deadly.

He knew that, should the head dart forth at him, his life would end swiftly.

The serpent’s head swung back and forth, almost lazily, indeed hypnotically, at a level slightly above his head and not many steps from him—perhaps twice his own height. It lifted in sinuous grace from coils that glittered amid the leafy growth below.

As his shock lapsed to expanding rings of wonder, he saw that this particular cobra had a strangely golden sheen to it unlike any other he had ever seen.

Such snakes live in the wilds of the northern delta, he had heard,yet here they are only kept in certain temple yards, not allowed to roam freely in a garden! Their venom, my mother has told me, can be diluted carefully and used as a potion in certain kinds of holy divinatory rites—however the bite will quickly paralyze and kill.

It kills more swiftly than any other kind of cobra!

His breath halted within the narrow cage of his chest.

His heart threatened to burst from those confines with its frantic beating.

Still, this extremely dangerous creature’s incredible beauty fascinated him.

Should it choose to strike now, he could not possibly escape its venomous fangs. I also know, some part of his mind shrieked at him,that the slightest movement on my part now would cause it to strike faster than I can blink!Curiously crystal clear thoughts flashed through his mind while he felt liquefied within by the sheer and relentless panic.

If I die now, Nebmaatra my father will hardly shed a tear… after all, Tuthmosis is the suitable heir! Of course my mother would surely grieve for me.He could not doubt her sincere affection. Then there is my beautiful little cousin Nefer… the daughter of Tiye’s brother Ay, his preferred playmate, would Nefer weep for me? It burst into his mind like a scroll catching fire in a brazier: For so many reasons I do not want to die! Not the least being the separation from his mother and from his Nefer…

At the tip of its snout, the cobra’s tongue flickered in a blur. The glint of jeweled eyes fixed upon him; terror and beauty merged perfectly in this creature.

He felt an urge to surrender and let it kill him. A perfect way to die!

What if this is one of the many Gods, come to claim me for the Western Lands of Eternity where my Ancestors live? All I need to do is make a sudden move—if the Seven Hathors have proclaimed it, this will be my fate! But no…

Without warning, he heard a familiar clap of little hands from behind him, a sound he knew, that of Nefer, who clapped her tiny palms together with this certain smack of sound when she wanted his attention or wanted something from him.

Before he could turn to look over his shoulder, another sound, a loud whir of wings fell down through the emerald canopy of leaves and branches before him. White wings dived upon the rampant serpent and beat the air above its lurching head.

The head jerked back and with blinding speed lashed at the bird, and struck it midair in an explosion of white feathers. Akh hesitated only a clumsy moment, for he always felt horrified to see any kind of creature harmed.

Still he gripped the opportunity and whirled about. Not far behind where he had stood, he saw Nefer, her brilliant eyes huge, her mouth wide open.

She reached for his hand as he stumbled to her. She pulled him and they ran back together the way he had come.

She alone knew anything at all of his private realm in this corner of the gardens.

Together they dashed from the grove and sprinted past pools of blooming blue water lilies and dozing ducks, between beds of daisies and cornflowers.

Startled gardeners observed their flight and bowed low in respect for Tiye’s son.

As the children ran, Akh shouted at these men, “A cobra! A giant golden cobra! It almost killed me!”

Panting and wild-eyed, the two children arrived moments later before the garden porch of his mother’s apartment that opened onto the lush harem gardens. On a couch of ebony and gold set upon fine carpets woven of fragrant reeds, Queen Tiye reclined wearing a long sheer gown of the finest pleated linen. She lay within the relatively cool air beneath a sunshade of opaque fabric trimmed along its edges with ostrich plumes of imperial blue and white.

Informally devoid of wig and sandals, Tiye’s own dark auburn hair framed her heart-shaped face, the molten eyes rimmed thickly by kohl. She relished the warm morning sunlight that lit everything around her without touching her directly, the light and heat that stirred sultry living odors from the living things and the moisture of the garden. This was one of Tiye’s rare opportunities to relax from the stern command with which she organized her household and ruled over Egypt for her distracted husband.

When she heard the rapid patter of the children’s footsteps approach, Tiye sat up suddenly and spilled the bowl of beer she held in one hand in her haste. Annoyed, she thrust the half-empty bowl at her brother’s wife, Lady Tia, the mother of little Nefer, who crouched upon a stool near the foot of the couch.

Tiye demanded, “What has happened to you, my precious little Flame?”

When Akh flung himself upon her knees with both arms going about her waist, she grabbed his bony shoulders.

Bug-eyed Tia—a gentle, timid woman who acted as royal nurse to many of the children within the House of Queens—stood up quivering with dismay and spilled the remainder of the thick grainy drink onto the rush carpets.

Startled anger lapsed to concern in Tiye’s voice. “My son, you act as if you’ve seen a ghost!”

“A—” his small bony chest heaved and he gasped. “A… a far greater marvel, Mother! A c-cobra! A hugegolden one! It almost k-killed me…”

Tiye was instantly on her feet. She pressed Akh against her legs with strong hands. “Where did you see this, my Son?”

Just then high-pitched cries of surprise and fear pealed from the glade of sycamores and palmettos along the garden’s high southern wall. The eunuch gardeners had discovered the intruder, which would be caught alive by the Serpent-Catching Priests and taken to a certain temple for safer keeping. That’s good, Akh thought,only it also means that my secret hiding place has been violated!

He allowed the voices of the gardeners to answer his mother’s demanding questions, for he still struggled to catch his breath. His entire body continued to tingle and surge with his fear at having stood so close to death.

Tiye reached down to his sides. With hands under his arms, she hoisted him up and around onto her hip, despite his being too large for the position. He happily straddled her hip with both legs and clung to her like a grateful monkey. “Lady Tia,” the Queen demanded, “find out what is happening. I know that you are afraid of snakes, but of course you will leave the capture to the priests that the gardeners have surely summoned already. I just want to know what is happening without going closer to it…”

When terrified Lady Tia took the hand of her tiny daughter who stood nearby, Tiye commanded, “Leave your daughter here. Come to me, Nefer.”

From his higher position of favor and privilege, Akh saw his beautiful little cousin—who watched him with the serene elegance of a baby gazelle—release Tia’s hand, then turn and walk closer. Her side-lock swayed with her graceful steps, the tiny gold balls at the ends of the plaits, clicked faintly.

“Yes, Highness,” Nefer’s mother gulped, then she turned and shuffled rapidly across the gardens in the direction of the grove in question, as if she marched to her execution. Far more powerful than her timidity, was her respect, fear and adoration for Queen Tiye.

“My Flame, my precious Flame,” the boy’s mother cooed. “Are you all right?” She said this even as she took the tiny hand of the girl who had come before her. “Yes, you’ll stay here with the Goddess, Nefer,” she said. “The Lady of the Two Lands will protect you both, my little darlings!”

Though Tiye released Nefer’s hand as she retrieved her own in order to shift Akh to a more comfortable spot on her hip, the girl clung to the Queen’s skirts. Nefer was indisputably the loveliest child in the House of Queens, just as by unspoken accord, Akh was the homeliest with his large nose for a child, and his spindly frame.

“Children, let us sit,” Tiye said. She lowered her boy onto the couch, sat beside him, and Nefer climbed up to sit on her other side. “Tell me of your adventure, while we await word from Lady Tia.” As they settled, Tiye placed her arms about the children and rested a hennaed hand on the outer shoulder of each of them. “Tell me what you saw, Nefer my darling,” Tiye said in a gentle tone she otherwise reserved only for her younger son.

“We saw a cobra,” the girl said. “A very big cobra! I clapped my hands to scare it away. Then a bird flew down and the cobra struck at it and we escaped.”

“Yes,” Akh agreed. “It nearly struck and killed me, only my little sister here saved me. Or it was the bird? I don’t know. There must be some reason the Aten wants me to live!” He grinned in a manner that rendered his long face quite handsome to a startling degree, a complete shift from his homely appearance when more serious—in fact, he lit up with enthusiasm.

“Well,” Tiye said, “of course the Lord of the Sun Disk wants you to be alive, or you would not be alive. Do you children know that when Prince Akh was born, the Seven Hathors proclaimed a very special destiny for him? As usual, they would not say exactly what it was, only the Hathors insisted that he would one day become the Lord of Two Lands and leave his mark upon the entire world. Not only Egypt. The world of foreigners as well… imagine that!”

She had never ever, since shortly after the lad’s birth mentioned the opinion of many in the court, that as a direct male heir in the line of succession only second away from the throne, the spindly and unattractive child should be casually neglected and allowed to languish and die. She rejected this indignantly, yet out of her own concern over his strange appearance and unusual character, Tiye privately consulted oracles on her own. Though she personally favored the One Sun Disk, the Lord Aten above all other forms of divinity, the urgency of her feelings inspired her to consult a variety of traditional oracles.

Some of them indicated disquieting things to her. Should he survive to manhood, she was told, this child might bring about the end of his dynastic line, and also invite terrible ruin upon the Two Lands of Egypt.

He might actually kill his own father, and marry her, his own mother! One oracle told her that he would be the greatest ruler the Two Lands ever had! He would create a new way of life that would bring about his own destruction and that of everyone closely connected with him… yet deeply superstitious and pious as she was, Tiye’s cool and hard exterior of great and imposing beauty concealed remarkable depths of maternal instinct.

In a way she had not felt for his healthy and handsome older brother Tuthmosis, Tiye felt compelled to pour concentrated affection upon the unusual infant. She continued to regularly nurse him at her own breast long after he began to talk and even chatter incessantly like a bird. She had not nursed his older brother even once, but allowed Lady Tia and others in the harems to have that honor in the case of the Falcon Prince, his father’s heir. With Akh, only Tia had nursed him regularly, as Tiye’s busy schedule often prevented her from doing it herself.

Stubbornly the Empress preserved and nourished this somewhat odd, rather frail child with particular warmth and devotion. Suddenly she felt a burst of insight with a physical sensation in her chest. “That was no ordinary bird,” she now told the children. “That was the Baof our beloved Nefer here, the Bird of her Soul, that protected you, my beloved Akh.”

Both children regarded her with stunned faces—eyes huge. “You mean…?” Nefer said in a scarcely audible whisper.

“Yes,” Tiye said and drew the girl closer against her left side in a hug.“

The three sat together in awed silence. Without saying anything more, Tiye nestled the children against her sides, caressed them, and parted her gown. With gentle yet firm hands, she guided their heads to her breasts and the children began to nurse. Tiye’s eyes fluttered with the soft suckling sounds. She sighed and within moments all three of them grew calmer.

Before long Lady Tia returned from her mission. The children disengaged, wide-eyed, yet they remained attached at the Queen’s sides.

Not far behind Tia a group of sunburned gardeners appeared from among the pools and plantings. They dragged a large, heavy sack of thick fabric. A tall priest with shaven head and a short pale blue kilt who bore the long forked staff of a serpent-catcher presided over the men. Rabbits and an ornamental duck hastened away from their progress. One of Tiye’s many black and white cats dashed across the scene, as if to make itself known.

Upon sight of the Empress, abruptly realizing their proximity to the Lady of the Two Lands, the men’s faces grew alarmed.

They all fell down prostrate, including the priest, and took care not to look up at her unbidden.

The heat of the day simmered with loud insect voices.

Tiye regained her feet. The children slipped from the edge of the couch at her sides, to stand with her. The three held hands and saw what had been brought before them.

“This has been done well,” Tiye said. “I can see how the sack moves with the powerful living thing inside of it. Take the creature to the Temple of Solar Serpents where it belongs, and where it will be cared for.”

Though Akh remained beside her, young Nefer, wide-eyed gave a tiny whimper and hid behind the Queen. As everyone breathed and insect voices simmered through the hot air of the garden, the men remained prostrate before the Living Goddess.

Lady Tia, to one side of the gardeners, appeared on the verge of a hysterical outburst, yet she merely chewed her lip and swayed in place.

Other royal women and children observed mutely and wide-eyed, huddled in small groups along the faces of the buildings, scarcely daring to speak as yet of the shocking incident.

The Prince regarded the scene with amazement. Death had never seemed so close, immediate, or real to him—certainly not his owndeath! This feeling has a strange flavor,he pondered.

He felt somehow more important and real to himself than ever before.

He felt peaceful yet alert—totally alive!

Tiye’s head inclined. “And did they find a bird, Lady Tia?”

Nefer’s mother stepped closer to the porch. She shook her head. “There was none, unless the cobra ate it. No feathers. No sign.”

“I did not expect you would find a bird,” Tiye said. She turned for a moment and sent a smile back at Nefer, whose perfect little face remained solemn.

Tiye squeezed her son’s hand. “We must be grateful to the Seven Hathors this day.”

Her heart overflowed with gratitude that her younger son remained alive and unharmed. It may not seem quite right, she thought,and yet I love this strange child far more than his older brother! Tuthmosis becomes a vain and rather cruel young man, while my Akh grows ever more tenderhearted and wise!

“The Aten has some important purpose for you, my Son.” Her tone, though deliberate as always, had more emotion in it than she commonly allowed herself to express verbally. “We must all be grateful. And now, Lady Tia, tell the men to take the creature to that compound at the Temple of Ra.”

She spoke to Tia, rather than address the men directly, and in a murmuring tone, Tia conveyed the instructions.

As the men moved at a crouch to obey—even the priest who was allowed to resume his feet, kept hunched over and careful not to look directly at Tiye—young Akh twisted his narrow face up toward his mother. “Do people act according to the Harmony of Maat, Mother?”

“Not always, I fear. When they are wise enough to know who has given them all the goodness of life, of course they do act in harmony. However, they often forget. People always have the choice to do good or ill.”

“Always, Mother?”

“My precious child,” she said, “you are so pure of heart! Perhaps it is not wise that I continue to shelter you here, away from the older boys and the men. You know very little of the evils, subtle and gross, that I face every day in the halls of audience and judgment. You must learn of these things some day, and yet I hesitate to tarnish your purity, my Flame. Your kind of innocence is so rare. So very precious to me.”

“I could easily have died, Mother!”

“Come inside with me, my darling. I must lie down.”

“And may Nefer come with us?”

“Always.”

 

Chapter Two:

Great House

 

Yuya had to admit that compared with his grim forefathers, the warlike Mitanni people, these Egyptians knew how to give a party and celebrate—however this evening was not truly a celebration of any kind, rather more of a duty.

In fact, on his way through the labyrinth of the private Ah’aat Malkata, as the tall, bearded man crossed a small courtyard he paused to gaze up longingly at the slim white horns of the Moon. It sailed slow and steady amid brilliant stars on a cloudless vault of deep royal blue night. How astounding life can be, he pondered, that a simple warrior of foreign blood like me, more adept at riding horses and driving a chariot than anything else, should become grandfather to the Falcon Prince of the Two Lands, this boy Tuthmosis who is heir to the throne of Egypt!Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that I am the Prophet of Lord Min at Akhmin? Who else could father such remarkable children and grandchildren?

Yuya knew from his wife Tuya that their daughter was again consulting an oracle this night—for despite her supreme devotion to the Sun Disk Aten, she continued to dabble in the oracular arts with various psychics and savants. Her father considered this dangerous. Better not to know the future with certainty, he reasoned, or you may have no choice in the present, and be bound to that destiny…

In fact, Tiye’s flirtation with soothsayers and necromancers frightened him a bit. He knew well how powerful the enchantments and spells could be, that might be mixed in with such consultations. He knew perfectly well, from his own experience, that the Phallic Magick of Min had not only secured him his prominence at Pharaoh’s court, but also helped his daughter rise to such prominence as the Great Royal Wife and Empress.

He smiled to himself. And I fear that my grandson is every bit as much a devotee of the Great God of the Phallus as am I… He sent a thought of gratitude to that formidable member that swung heavily beneath his kilt, but then he frowned slightly.

Yuya did not believe literally in the numerous deities of Egyptian religion, though he understood why so many did. Their lively depictions and celebrations were everywhere in this great, rich realm. However he did believe in ghosts, and the spirits of departed ancestors; he had actually seen a few of those himself. Plus, he considered it possible that some kinds of demons existed—which made him quite fearful of his prominent daughter’s dabbling with various occult advisers…

Deliberately, he returned his mind to his erotic prowess, which had always been considerable, and this restored his good mood. Smiling again to himself, Yuya proceeded to the opulent rooms where he was expected.

Now the two men, father-in-law and son-in-law, reclined at ease upon couches in a small ornate hall of the Ah’a, the private royal sector of Nebmaatra’s immense palace, his Horizon at Malkata, a complex the size of a small town.

The King’s Master of Horse and Father-of-the-God, Yuya, kept his handsome, chiseled features composed in an expression of genial respect in order to mask his revulsion towards the huge and unsightly thing that his royal son-in-law had become. Still, he is far from stupid, Yuya reminded himself, despite his appearance like a huge, fat child…

Nebmaatra the Great House Amunhotep appeared as a gelatinous mound of light brown flesh dressed only in a short kilt, small linen cape, thick gold bracelets and wide pectoral collar of colored beads. His palms and the soles of his feet bore elaborate henna designs. The heavy face paint with tiny eyes heavily outlined in black kohl, and the short, curly wig with the golden cobra at the brow—all these conspired to emphasize how small his head seemed atop the bulky body.

Yuya—who remained trim and athletic despite his age—reminded himself of the great privilege he enjoyed, to informally drink wine with the God. Due to their family relations, being the father-in-law of the Great House, he easily slipped into over-familiarity, particularly when the alcohol flowed, as it usually did in the presence of Nebmaatra.

The haze from dozens of lamps that burned in alabaster shades carved as water lily blossoms, stale incense and cloying perfumes, commingled with the sharp odor of sweat from the huge man’s body. Nebmaatra also chewed cloves constantly for the pain of his rotten teeth, a spicy smell that mixed uneasily with all the rest.

Just within the closed doorway before the couches a naked Libyan boy of ivory skin and orange hair knelt and plucked a lute while he warbled a plaintive desert song. When Yuya could not bear to rest his eyes upon Nebmaatra, his gaze roamed the wooden pillars painted blood red; upon a wall the mural of a kingfisher hovered forever about to dive into the water of a canal; tiers-upon-tiers of decorative solar disks and cobras inlaid in gold, lapis lazuli and glass, repeated endlessly. The Ah’a was richly decorated and also richly furnished with opulent personal treasures of the royal family, in contrast to the broader and plainer halls of the public Usechetportion of the Horizon.

The sight of his own second son, already a highly accomplished horseman himself, provided even greater relief, though Ay was barely twenty years of age. He sat poised on a footstool positioned between the older men’s couches. With his boyish face, sharp nose and large, watchful eyes, he frequently passed the plates of confections between the two older men, though his eyes lingered much upon the Libyan boy. Having not only military prowess, but also a shrewd wit and refined courtly manners, Ay shared the Gold of Favor that Nebmaatra had bestowed upon his father Yuya. Both Yuya and Ay, father and son, wore no more than short pleated kilts, pectoral collars, bracelets and armbands. They also shared the fair hair of their Mitanni ancestry from the Middle East north of Syria, rather than darker native Egyptian hair.

Between swigs of wine, belches and intervals of masticating his cloves, the Great House held forth to his military men on the glory of his ancestors’ accomplishments, most of which he claimed as his own accomplishments in typical dynastic style.

“My Father’s Fathers, as you know, are a line of eight Great Gods who brought greater glory and riches to the Two Lands than any line of kings has ever done before!” Though he seldom moved more than to lift a be-ringed hand, Nebmaatra’s mouth could flap on and on all night long, and his bulk seemed to have an endless capacity to absorb wine. Whenever he ate more confections, he thrust the cloves into his cheek, and once he had swallowed he would continue to chew the cloves. “Of course,” he continued, “there remains the titillating scandal of the fifth ruler, Maatkara Hatshepsut, who was actually a woman, though she wore a beard to rule as Great House! That is something—” The tiny eyes glinted and the jowls shook. “—we are supposed to never speak of, or even to know about, though of course everyone does. That woman must have been as impressive, Yuya, in her own way, as your remarkable daughter Tiye.”

Ay wrenched his gaze from the Libyan boy to Nebmaatra, heaved a sigh and made a humble gesture for permission to speak, to which the Great House returned a slight nod. “With all due respect, Mighty Bull, if I may speak quite honestly…”

Nebmaatra belched and fluttered the fingers of one hand. “Always speak plainly and truly before me in private,” he said. “I only ask that you never embarrass me in the public halls of the Usechet. You know this well. What is it, Ay?”

“Well, Mighty Bull… while the matter remains a mystery, many believe that Maatkara Hatshepsut, uhm, eliminated her own brother Aakheperenra Tuthmosis in order to place herself upon the throne.”

Yuya gestured respectfully. “Great House, such an extremely capable woman can make the men around her appear meek and impotent. That is why her name has rightfully been destroyed, for she presumed to wield the authority of the God.”

Nebmaatra’s face flushed beneath his makeup. “Ah! How well I know this, Yuya! However, a strong enough man only appears stronger with a truly impressive woman beside him… as in the case of your own lovely daughter, my Queen. Her strength as the Goddess only supports my greatness as the God.”

Yuya felt gratified by every reminder of his intimate connections with the royal family—even this one that bordered on annoying Nebmaatra. Because he is so pathetic, Yuya reminded himself, I must not forget that Nebmaatra is very intelligent still, at least in his lucid intervals. Even drunk and ill, he is often quite brilliant and cunning.

He had not forgotten the handsome, athletic young warrior Nebmaatra had been when first he knew him, and still felt traces of the brotherly bonding they had developed as “brothers-in-arms” while he trained the Falcon Prince in the arts of war. That bond made it possible for him to marry into the royal family, though he had no inherited titles. He also observed that his son Ay now rapidly stroked his narrow chin, and the wiry figure had turned towards the youthful musician. Though Yuya found his son’s appetite for young men a bit disquieting, he could overlook it because Ay’s wife Tia had already produced two daughters, Mutnedjmet and Nefer.

“Son of Yuya,” Nebmaatra said as Ay extended a bowl of honey cakes to him, “do tell me honestly: do you think that the strength and prominence of your own sister in any way diminishes respect for the Great House?” He took a handful of the honey cakes and held them, staring at the confections fixedly, as if they contained some unexpected truth hidden in their matter.

Ay observed his father’s composure, then cleared his throat. “On the contrary, Mighty Bull. As her brother and by marriage, brother and friend of the God, I am uniquely aware of my sister’s total devotion to you. She stands at your side as your Goddess, and sits on your behalf in the great halls of the public Usechet to render Life, Health, and Strength in your honor.”

“You speak so prettily,” Nebmaatra sighed. “Your words are always graceful as your youthful good looks! And Yuya, my dear friend, to your potent if skinny loins, I owe great debt not only for producing my beloved Tiye, but this well-spoken and fine young horseman also.

“Do train him up for me as capably as your Father’s Fathers have served mine so faithfully, and one day he may succeed you as the Master of Horse.”

*   *   *

Queen Tiye stood rigid as a statue of the Great Goddess of Goddesses. Her eyes focused upon the sibyl who had just disemboweled an unblemished goose upon the altar of the oracular shrine. Beyond the smoldering brazier, an exquisite image of a winged bull with a bearded human face that has glass and stone inlaid eyes swam in the red-amber glow.

I know enough of Real Magick, Tiye considered in silence,to be aware that the deliberate sacrifice of a Life rends the ordinary fabric of existence and opens a portal to the Divine World of the Gods and Powers… still, this always disquiets my Soul! Part of me hates to see a lovely creature created by the Aten deliberately slain like this—yet I also know that it allows a genuine augur such as this crone to see beyond the limits of location and time into distant places and things to come…

An assistant of the old woman from the ancient Middle Eastern city of Uruk sifted a handful of powder onto the brazier of coals, from which a distinct snarl of combustion and a blossom of pungently sweet smoke erupted. From where Tiye stood she observed the savant bent over the low table before the waist-high altar.

Tiye sought not to inhale too deeply of the pungent haze that filled the small chapel. Quite often, she knew,the fumes have mind-manifesting effects that give me visions of my own, and I really want a clear head upon thisone…

Nag-Quash-T, the crone, had insisted the reading would prove more precise if her client did not make known her specific query. “Great of Magick,” Nag-Quash-T said with a grimace, “let the Gods and Powers listen to the questions of your Holy Heart directly. That way they will speak through me without interference from my own crazy old mind! If you want the most accurate reading, this is the only way.” She had cackled, a sound like crackling branches, and Tiye agreed.

Now the sibyl turned slowly towards her and one of the cloudy eyes gleamed from beneath the feathered turban she wore. A gnarled hand beckoned.

“Very well,” Nag-Quash-T croaked, “you may approach and see for yourself.”

Tiye gathered her wits, which had seemed to become a bit scattered by her deep apprehension over the destiny of her beloved son Akh. This emotional intensity of love and fear was something she kept hidden from everyone—and earlier this day, his close call with the cobra in the garden had shattered her illusions of safety and security. As the wife and functional regent on behalf of her husband Nebmaatra, she enjoyed the greatest wealth and privilege the world could offer.

And yet those moments when she realized how close she had come to losing her beloved younger son had been among the most disquieting and disorienting of her life. Despite her controlled exterior, the abyss of loss that gaped open within her at the thought of losing the boy seemed to slap her like profound sobriety in the midst of intoxication.

We are never completely safe from death and disaster,she realized.

At least this expedient, to consult some of her finest oracles, might help her to delay the inevitable…

“Highness,” old Nag-Quash-T croaked. She employed the formality she sometimes forgot. “Please come see for yourself.”

Tiye took a deep breath.

To assure that the fabric could not block her clear vision, she pushed back from her face the delicate headscarf of linen she had worn over her wig.

Then she stepped forward.

Nag-Quash-T moved to one side of the table before the altar, so that the Lady of Two Lands could approach the other side.

The poor goose, which had finally stopped twitching after the crone had decapitated it with a single swift stroke of a honed bronze blade, lay on its side, the neck a limp white serpent, the beautiful wings spread behind its back as if in flight. The entrails poured from the slit along its abdomen and lay gleaming in a complex of stomach, intestines, kidneys, liver, bladder and ovaries across the polished stone surface.

“This is a female bird,” Tiye said, her only certainly.

She observed that the organs lay strewn, still connected by various strings and webs of inner tissues, across a gold star of nine points inlaid into pale alabaster of the circular tabletop.

“A perfect, unblemished bird from the temple of Hathor not far downstream from here, Highness,” Nag-Quash-T said quietly.

“I also know this is the sacred bird of Lord Geb, God of the Earth, and wife of Lady Nut, the Sky.”

“Tell me, Lady, what do you see?”

Tiye heaved a deep sigh. “A life taken. Give me your reading, please.” That last word was one she seldom employed since she had risen to such supreme prominence in the Two Lands. So much of her energy in recent years had been wrapped up in supervising the construction of this great palace of Malkata on the western side of the great river across from Thebes on the eastern side, along with various projects of her husband’s that only of late had she really turned full attention to other matters. “Old woman, I must know what you see. Then whatever reward you request, will be yours.”

“Anything, Highness?”

“Within reason, of course. You know our agreement.”

Nag-Quash-T merely gave a slight nod, her crinkled eyelids fluttered and she returned toward the table, where she extended a gaunt hand into the hazy air above the bird. “Of course,” she said.

Tiye waited in expectant silence.

At last, after what seemed to the Empress a long time, Nag-Quash-T spoke again, in a different voice, one that seemed younger and stronger than her usual old woman’s rasp; this shift of voice caused the hair follicles of Tiye’s shaven neck and forearms to tingle as if a chill night breeze from the desert abruptly touched her. “Your husband will live longer than you may imagine,” the old woman said. “Forgive my bluntness, Lady.”

“I want the truth. Without added fragrance.”

“I obey, Great Lady.” The crone shook her head slowly, blinking rapidly. “Surpassing strange, what I see. This is not easy to tell you, but the placement of the liver and the kidneys tell me that your older son the Falcon Prince will not survive his father… your younger son will become his father’s heir instead. Your vigilance is required, like a mother lioness to protect him from those who might consider the younger boy… well, unsuitable. Remain always close to him, do everything you can to guard his safety, for his destiny is to change the world. He will even change the foreign lands where the Nile in the Sky rains waters down upon the world. Beyond this… I see—forgive me, however—you will not survive him. That is… that is all I can tell you, Lady.”

Tiye sucked in her cheeks and chewed the inner tissues, then exhaled loudly. “You have seen into my Heart indeed, Nag-Quash-T. Or, rather, the Gods and the Powers have told you what was already in me. It was—”

“Say no more, Highness,” the old woman spoke weakly, as if the effort had drained her to a weak husk.

“I am grateful,” Tiye said with uncommon humility. But then she regarded Nag-Quash-T sharply, and her eyes narrowed. “Only there is more. Something beyond this, you have seen of which you have not spoken. Tell me!”

The wrinkled visage darkened, every furrow deeper, and the eyes seemed to retreat beneath the droopy lids. “Oh, Great One, Mistress of Enchantments,” the crone gasped, “I cannot tell you… cannot say it! You will be greatly displeased, if I tell you—”

“No.” Tiye took hold of the wrist, thin and hard as a cane of giant reed. “I will be greatly displeased if you do nottell me. I will not hold it against you personally. You are merely the messenger of your visions. I understand this, Nag-Quash-T, the Wise.”

Nag-Quash-T gave a low moan of reluctance and remorse. Then she straightened up, and said, “Very well.” Tiye released her and the sibyl continued. “Your son and his wife will do much that has never been done before in this world… only they will attract terrible enemies. They will bring a great Light into the world, however others will be blinded and turn against them. Their enemies will seek to erase their Sacred Names and destroy their Doubles!” Nag-Quash-T groaned in a kind of deep agony. “Much damage will be done, a terrible, hideous violation of their Great Souls—only it will not succeed. The Bull of Heaven loves them! They will never be forgotten, in truth. Not until the end of the world. This is all I can tell you. There is no more.”

Tiye noticed herself panting, as if she had been running, something she seldom did due to the dignity required of the Empress.

She took a step backwards from the altar, her eyes again on the glistening organs of the augury. “I—I see nothing there but the innards of a dead bird. How can this be? Oh, it is much you have told me, old woman, and yes—perhaps too much! Only I’ve asked for it. I must ponder these things.”

“I am sorry if you are displeased.”

“No. I am merely—uncertain what it all means.”

“Lady, I can explain no more. I only describe what I see.”

“Of course,” Tiye seemed to emerge from some strange cavern of dark and potent mysteries. “Of course, now name your reward, Nag-Quash-T.”

“This may indeed displease you, Great One. I ask… I only ask that I be allowed to return to the land of my birth, where the two great rivers flow. To mighty-walled Uruk the Beautiful. It is far and I may not even survive the journey. Only I would die there, if the Gods and Powers allow it.”

Tiye said nothing for quite some time; her thoughts and feelings had flown elsewhere entirely. “Yes, of course,” she said at last. “Whatever you wish for. Only you must promise never to speak of this augury. Not to anyone. Not ever.”

“My lips are always sealed, Lady. In fact, I don’t even remember what I tell to my clients, never for more than a few minutes. Even now, all I recall is my reluctance to tell you of several dire prophecies. Something about your sons.”

“Enough,” Tiye said, and turned away.

Once she returned to her own suite within the private Ah’a of the palace, a set of rooms outside of the House of Queens, she summoned her major domo Wadjetkhuf, a stoic and devoted man from Lower Egypt whom she had raised up from his life as a farmer and cattle herder of the distant delta.

The man prostrated himself before the chair where she sat. She still felt shaken, though her ladies had lit extra lamps on golden stands at her command. Her hands might have trembled had she not held onto the armrests of the chair.

She did not tell her servant to rise; rather she spoke slowly and clearly. “Inform the old woman from Uruk, the sibyl Nag-Quash-T, that she may depart for her homeland as soon as she wishes,” she told him. “Then, tonight when she is asleep or retired to her pallet, I want her to be eliminated. Mercifully. A swift break of the neck. No suffering. Now, go.”

“As you command, Highness,” Wadjetkhuf murmured without looking up at her.

She stood and left the room before he backed away.

*   *   *

At times Nebmaatra dragged out his flowery, bombastic words with great effort, and slowed the pace of his speech, then sometimes his words came in a rush, as he passed back and forth between incoherence and great clarity.

“My boy, Son of Yuya,” he said, “you crouch on that stool at my feet—so sleek and bright-eyed as a ferret! Polite, sharp-witted… perhaps a bit secretive in character, I’d say. Do you imagine that the God’s view of things is so lofty that he overlooks the details of human character of those that surround him?”

Ay boldly bestowed a subservient grin, though he kept his eyes below the level of Nebmaatra’s face, and he shook his head back and forth once in negation: Oh no, I do not believe that,was the implication,surely the Lord of Two Lands sees everything, knows everything!

“Truly,” Nebmaatra continued, “the God sees and notices everything… so totally that there is seldom anything he does about anything, for all is according to the divine law of Maat, in perfect balance and harmony. However, the Goddess, she knows even more, for she is Holy Mother, Sister, and also Daughter to the Good God. And you, Yuya my friend, are Father-of-the-God to me, and Divine Father to my Lady Maat…” The huge man’s eyes glazed over, his jowls slackened.

Yuya and Ay witnessed to their dismay and disgust, a single saliva-sodden clove that escaped from the thick shiny lips colored with henna. The clove tumbled like a climber that fell from the apex of a mighty pyramid and skidded down its slope—then it bounced from the ample girth, over the edge of the golden lion couch, onto the carpet of the dais.

Ay leaned forward, plucked up the escaped stem of pungent spice in nimble fingers and stood up, though he remained respectfully somewhat bent over. “Ankh! Udjat! Seneb!”he hailed, meaning Life! Health! Strength!Audaciously, he violated protocol by leaning closer to Nebmaatra and he inserted the clove back into the puckered lips.

Pop-eyed in amazement at the young man’s informality, Nebmaatra belched and farted enormously, and bestowed a pained and nearly toothless grin upon Ay, to ghastly effect.

Yuya suppressed a shudder of contempt and also swallowed a touch of dread, aware that Nebmaatra had sometimes had people beheaded for far less offensive actions.

“Dear, dear boy,” Nebmaatra declared, “you are very nearly as real a man as your sister is a real woman! Only my beloved sister, and your sister, our lovely Tiye is far more than a woman… she is truly Lady Maat, all Goddesses of the Two Lands.”

Ay’s face darkened, his expression slightly pinched at this praise of his own birth sister, and the dutiful wife of this monstrous man.

“O Mighty Bull,” Ay sank back onto his stool, arms folded over his strong, tanned chest, the rodent intensity of his eyes agleam above a dazzling smile of meticulous politeness. “Am I only nearly a real man? Somehow not quite a man?”

Again, Nebmaatra regarded him with something like amazement. “Did you know, young man, my forefather hunted elephants at Lake Niy, where he corralled a herd of one hundred and twenty of those huge, great animals! How many elephants do you think that I corralled when I followed in his footsteps?”

“Please, Your Majesty, end my pathetic ignorance,” Ay said.

“Three hundred and sixty! Not one less! By the grace of Amun-Ra, the Lord of Thrones, the Hidden One, who has united for me the Black Land and the Red Land. All that the Sun Disk encircles is in my grasp!”

“And this is known by everyone,” Ay confirmed with a humble nod.

“My boy, your father’s daughter Tiye is far more than a woman; she is truly the Mistress of my Happiness. Our love endures great separations between our Hearts, and yet our souls inhabit one body…”

My son has such potent charm,Yuya thought,that his presumption and insolence is overlooked! He may yet surpass his older sister whose prominence and power he so bitterly envies. How well Nebmaatra believes he has used my foreign family to strengthen his forces—as well as his inbred bloodline!

Yet we in turn climb ever higher on his broad back!

The beady eyes of the Great House brightened once more and come into sharper focus, and he scrutinized the veiled indignity with which Ay held up his chin. “What is it, Son of Yuya? I observe some matter of greater urgency than these matters we speak of that lurks within your decorative façade. Forget politeness and protocol and let the plain truth cross your lips and come forth. Even if it looks like a scorpion.”

Ay glanced aside into the shadows at Set-Mesy, the Lord’s Steward.

Ay’s brow knitted slightly and he stroked his throat lightly. “As you command, Mighty Bull. Your servant here present has wondered upon a serious matter. Your Osiris ancestors have made the Two Lands greater and richer than ever before, with mighty armies of many horses and chariots, multitudes of warriors armed with long-bows, great armies that have followed the holy standard of the Hidden One of the Sun, Amun-Ra.

“At the same time, an enormous hierarchy of officials and scribes has arisen in the last few generations to administer the military, every bit as formidable as the bureaucracy that controls the temple treasuries through which all taxes and tributes of the Two Lands are gathered.”

Yuya saw that Set-Mesy gave a subtle nod to these words of Ay.

Nebmaatra gave a vast stinking yawn, both spicy and foul. “Continue.”

“O Mighty Bull, we are well aware that the pontiff of Ipet-Sut, the Great Temple of Amun-Ra, and indeed all his Brotherhood cannot be pleased that the standard of their god that has long gone before the armies, was replaced by Osiris Menkheperura Tuthmosis with the Sun Disk of the Aten.”

Nebmaatra grumbled irritably, a minor earthquake of flesh. “How dare you question the wisdom of the thing my own father, the Great God in the Western Lands, did? He did it from gratitude to Harmachis, the Lord of the Horizon who placed him upon the throne!”

“Forgive your servant here present,” Ay continued smoothly, “only it is not criticism, rather observation, my Good God. We all know the famous story of the prince who fell asleep in the shade of the great head near Memphi while out in the desert riding his chariot, how Harmachis spoke to him in his dream and promised—“

“Do you dare to question the fact that Harmachis himself spoke to my Osiris-father?”

“Never! Not at all,” Ay continued, unperturbed. “Surely the expression of gratitude was perfectly appropriate at the time. And yet now we can observe the estrangement it produces between the armed forces and the temple that controls the national treasury, which includes the allotments for the Great House and his Horizon. Both the armed forces and Ipet-Sut have developed their own vast, entrenched bureaucracies of scribes and officials which regard one another with great suspicion and rivalry.”

“What point do you make?” Nebmaatra’s impatience could be plainly heard concerning this sort of matter that he normally left in the more-than-competent care of his Queen Tiye. He snapped, “More wine!”

Servants and wine tasters crept forth at once form behind a standing screen on one corner.

The Libyan boy paused in his plucked notes and his murmurs of song.

Yuya was on the verge of warning his son to desist, but instead out of a kind of morbid curiosity to see what would happen, he merely watched and listened even more keenly.

“It is only this,” Ay said, that I witness all of the bureaucrats in both camps have entirely lost sight of their original and stated purposes. To administer the taxes and tributes properly is no longer their primary concern. Their goal has become to perpetuate the bureaucracy itself—to keep their own jobs intact, to advance their positions, and place their own brothers and sons into positions of favor.

“I sense that real trouble could arise from the division, should Ipet-Sut grow further estranged from the armed forces. After all, it is the temple treasury that controls all government funds. They collect the taxes and tributes of grain and goods before they are distributed to the Great House, the armies, and to the other temples throughout the Two Lands.”

Painted eyebrows lifted in high, studied arches beneath the golden serpent with ruby eyes that presided at the middle of Nebmaatra’s brow—however, those eyes had again grown dimmer and even seemed to retreat visibly within the hollows of the sockets.

“The pontiff will not dareto challenge my requisitions,” the Great House declared with a bovine bellow of contempt, “neither for my own maintenance, nor for what I require to support my military! Do I not escort the Hidden One Amun-Ra during his annual journey at the Boat Festival of Opet? As my Father’s Fathers have each added to the grandeur of Ipet-Sut, his House at Thebes, so have I added a fine portico and a new pylon to the west side! I may honor and uphold my father’s personal regard for Harmachis…” Here the huge man paused to catch his breath; his lips puckered in and out. “However, the Hidden One across the river cannot complain of being neglected by me!”

The tiny eyes, dull and dim, moved from Ay to Yuya and back to Ay.

“Of course not, Great House!” Yuya darted a brief glower of caution at his son, who took no notice. “My son’s intentions is an honorable concern, only he is young and impetuous. He lacks the experience of his elders. You are aware that your legions of fine horses and the best chariots in the entire world flourish under my authority to their greatest number and supreme excellence of deployment. Your servant here present is most humbly aware that its is not my place to question what standard the Lord of Two Lands chooses to place before us on our campaigns.”

Nebmaatra slurred and stammered, “No. Nuh. It. Tit. Is. It.Not!”

“At the same time,” Yuya touched Ay’s shoulder to restrain him from further comment, “it is only that one simple thing—so utterly simple and innocuous which so angers the pontiff of Ipet-Sut and causes him to look upon the military as his rivals. It is the standard of Aten going before us that the pontiff resents. As my son indicates, those temple officials and scribes look upon their equivalent brethren among the armed forces as potential enemies. Quite unfortunate! I fear this could, indeed, disrupt the Harmony of Maat.”

“What are you telling me, Yuya?” The face now appeared flushed and glistened with sweat that also cut runnels through the oily surface of the skin all over the huge, child-like body. “As you yourself said, the Sun Disk is ‘simple and innocuous’ you called it? It is an insignia far more ancient and traditional than the double plumes of Amun-Ra.”

Before Yuya could prevent it, Ay blurted, “Quite true, Mighty Bull, except you must consider the fact that the pontiff takes it’s leading presence as an affront!”

Nebmaatra regarded the young man coldly. “You were not granted permission to speak.” This arbitrary chastisement cam unexpected, as most of the discussion had been quite informal, and unexpectedly the big man’s expressions softened to bemusement. “However, you are forgiven for the sake of your fair face and your eloquent tongue. You must consider that the God now stands upon both of these firm foundations: the temple and the army. Times have changed with the expansion of our domain. Our glory now extends into Nubia of the far south, and Djahy of the far north. Once the pontiff’s influence was second only to mine, but now he must learn to share that importance with my military commanders, including your own father, my excellent Master Yuya here.

“Also be aware, young man: The God does not dismiss the concerns you have presented—only he does understand them more completely than you possibly can. As there is some real merit in your reservations… I will give you both, My Master of Horse and his impressive son, a mandate. I entrust you together to do your best to reconcile my military officers with the Brotherhood of Amun-Ra. The symbol of the Sun Disk before my chariots and horses is no good reason for any contention between these factions. Those two factions that I stand upon are united by my divine person!” Nebmaatra paused for effect and they heard him sucking upon the cloves tucked into his cheek. “Well? What do you think of this?”

Yuya considered briefly, and sent a probing glance at Ay who sat very still, chin in hands on the stool below the dais, showing no clear reaction. “As you wish, Great House. We will do our best to regain the trust of Ipet-Sut… and to minimize the importance of the Aten in their eyes.”

“Do not mistake me,” Nebmaatra said. “I have no intention of minimizing the Aten’s importance in my own observances. As my Goddess the Lady Maat wishes, Harmachis shall continue to receive our tribute in his form as the Sun Disk Aten.

“No more shall the Hidden One be slighted at his House across the river—both gods can be honored without contest.

“Now! These sober matters bore me, my friends. Let this lovely boy who plays and sings for us be given our eyes and ears for his sweet music. And Ay,—” Nebmaatra grabbed a fistful of millet, sesame and honey cakes from the plate that the younger horseman proffered. “—if you will present me with no more troubling thoughts, when I retire you may take the boy with you for a special treat.” He crammed his mouth full of the cakes.

Though Yuya rolled his eyes, Ay bowed deeply and kissed the hennaed feet of Nebmaatra. “Mighty Bull, you are too generous…”

“I know,” Nebmaatra giggled. “I know!”

This mandate from the Great House presents new possibilities,Yuya thought.

The three listened to the Libyan boy for a short while longer, then the herald of the chamber thumped his staff, barely in time to make his proper announcement: “The Goddess, Great of Favor, Lady of the Two Lands!”

While her servants remained in the hallway outside the room, Queen Tiye swept into the room. She wore a sheath of sheer linen, a wig of long black plaits, and huge earrings hung at the sides of her perfectly painted face. A broad multicolored pectoral collar gleamed across her shoulders, and her golden bracelets bore sacrificial geese of finest inlaid lapis lazuli. Tiye’s loveliness in her finery stole all of the attention away from the musician, whose music halted abruptly.

Her cloud of blue water lily fragrance cut a fresh floral swath through the murk of stale odors that possessed the room.

“Beloved Sister,” her husband incanted, “my Lady Maat. Come and speak.”

She glided before the dais, without a glance at her father and brother. “The Lord of Harmony is Ra!” she declared, then sank to her knees and kissed Nebmaatra’s feet, where she appeared like a small child below him.

“Come sit beside me,” Nebmaatra said.

Tiye arose gracefully, acknowledged her kinsmen with slight nods, and then took her place on the couch beside the God. She reached up to adjust the short curly wig, which had begun to slip aside on his shaven head. Her eyes seemed especially bright and wide open this night with some kind of secret excitement.

Nebmaatra said, “Have some wine, my Sister.”

“And how are you feeling today, Brother?” she purred.

“Much better, Tiye, as of this very moment!”

Yuya shuddered inwardly. Can my daughter still possibly love the monstrous thing this man has become? If she feigns it, she’s even more cunning than I thought…

Even stranger, perhaps that she may be entirely sincere!

 

Chapter Three:

Aten Gleams

 

Gentle ripples criss-crossed upon the waters and made the round flat leaves on the surface jostle and quiver; blue flowers like spiky little crowns lifted fragrant yellow hearts to the warm sunlight; insects zoomed with a busy sound and frogs crouched and leapt with small sudden splashes.

“Flame!” his beautiful mother murmured to the small boy who leaned upon her legs, his narrow face turned up to hers. His brown eyes beamed back the affection she showered upon him. “You are my fertile ground! My precious Gift of Aten, dear Akh!”

Together they drifted in idle seclusion aboard her opulent barge, Aten Gleams, and floated without destination upon the artificial lake at Malkata that Nebmaatra had made for her enjoyment.

“Mother,” he said, “do you love my brother Tuthmosis as you love me?”

She smiled wistfully. “I love Tuthmosis… in a different way. The Falcon Prince pleases your father, and that pleases me. However, your brother is at an age when he thinks it shows weakness to display much affection for his mother.”

“I will never be like him!”

“That is probably quite true.”

“I don’t want to ever be like him.” Akh rolled his head aside to look beyond the canopy fringed with blue and white ostrich plumes, to where the light of the Sun Disk glinted on the peaceful waters. Bright colored ducks paddles among the blooming water plants.

Just for their sake, this day the Queen’s lake was barred from all other water traffic to and from her personal water steps, while the Empress took her leisure with her young son. The lake measured six thousand feet in length and was one thousand feet wide, along the eastern side of the great palace at Malkata. The lake had been excavated in only fourteen days by the command of the God as a gift for his Goddess. It had canals at both ends leading to the river.

Akh saw imperial guards dressed in white kilts and blue helmets on their heads stationed beside his mother’s water steps, at attention and holding spears. He saw the gentle breezes ruffle the ornamental plantings of papyrus along the edges of the lake, the feathery green crowns pale with pollen as they bloomed.

He returned his eyes to his mother Tiye. “My Flame,” she told him quietly, “your brother has his own Shai, the destiny the Seven Hathors proclaimed for him. You have your own Shai, which is as different and as special, as you are.”

“Mother… I will never… be a ruler, will I?”

“Not likely.” She blinked. “Would you want to?”

“I don’t think so. I don’t know.”

“Darling, never repeat this to anyone, but you are already much smarter than Tuthmosis has ever been! My brother Ay has been given the responsibility for his military training, which may instill some discipline in him. I fear that despite his good looks and athletic prowess, Tuthmosis is simply not very bright. Still, he will make a suitable Great House, so long as he has a strong and intelligent wife beside him.”

“And me…?”

“You are far too bright to spend your life hampered by the demands of such an office. You are too sensitive and too good-hearted. A king needs a real streak of ruthlessness to survive and to maintain effective command, as I know all too well. I’ve had to cultivate that quality in myself deliberately. Plus a good king is perhaps better off unhampered by your kind of intelligence, my Son. He must have some wits and cunning, though true brilliance might prove a liability in that office.

“You may make a fine scholar one day.”

Akh grinned up at her. “I would like to marry my cousin Nefer, and we could have a lot of children.”

Tiye laughed lightly. “I am already thinking the same thing!” Why,she wondered,does my Heart swell and spread protective wings around this odd little duckling whose difficult birth almost killed me?Some women might have felt inclined to ignore such a late and unusual offspring in favor of his handsome older brother—the perfect image of the family’s line of noble warriors. Not Tiye, however. Yet the truth is, I find the Falcon Prince a bit distasteful as he emulates his forefathers and crudely asserts his privilege and manhood.

She stroked Akh’s long and shapely head and toyed with his sidelock. The mysterious Shai of this child kept hidden in the House of Queens by command of the Great House, the prophetic mutterings of old Nag-Quash-T, engaged her emotions and her mind. She only knew that a part of herself felt more committed than ever to protect the boy, even with her own life.

Now he piped up, “Do you think that I am not suited to be a king?”

“That is not what I said. Only in my heart I do petition the Hathors that you will never be forced to carry such a burden. The task of a ruler requires terrible tasks that must harden anyone’s heart to perform. No, I would not wish that for you. I know it because of how hard governing has made me…” She sniffed and watched pungent smoke unfolding from censers on the barge as they drifted over the sparkling waters where fish splashed and dragonflies buzzed here and there.

A far more enchanting fragrance emanated from the sacred blue water lilies that grew in thousands across the lake, and Tiye felt pleased when the smolder of terebinth and myrrh resins blew away in another direction. She much preferred the fresh sweetness of the lilies, though the incense served magickal and protective purposes that she also valued.

“You are not hard, Mother,” Akh protested. “You are gentle! Kind!”

Her eyes returned to him. “For you, I could be nothing else, my Flame. You are my only island of peace and softness in the swift floodwaters. I really seeyou, my child, and you are unlike anything else I know in the world.”

Akh lifted his head with his jaws braced on both hands, elbows propped on her thigh and he appraised her with puzzlement. “Then… when I am older, perhaps I should marry you,instead of Nefer!”

“Oh no,” she laughed. “A king may have as many wives and concubines as he wishes, but I am already married to Nebmaatra, and a queen may have only one husband. Your father has many lesser wives and concubines, yet I may have no more than one husband.”

“If I was king, I might change that.”

She shook her head slowly. “That is according to Maat, my darling.” She lifted her gaze above him, across the placid rippling to the length of high walls at the west. Malkata. The Horizon she had built with Nebmaatra against all conventions here in west Thebes, at the foot of the royal necropolis cliffs.

Her husband had inherited many other palaces and estates, but she disliked the dour opulence of the royal houses in Thebes on the east side of the river. This gigantic complex of Malkata—the size of a small town—Tiye herself had planned. She supervised the construction and decoration according to her own taste and preferences. Situated amid lush green fields opposite from Ipet-Sut, the Horizon at Malkata was constructed mostly of mud brick, with stone only along foundations and doorways. The roofs lifted high on pillars of wood painted bright red, a great expense as the wood was imported from Lebanon.

The scale was immense and open to admit plentiful daylight with clerestory openings and inner roofs supported by slender central pillars over the courtyards within the buildings. The effect was something like a geometrical forest glade with plentiful shade that provided most welcome coolness. Floors she had paved with colorful tiles, and the walls were enlivened with lifelike murals that depicted plants and animals, the things she really loved. The ornamentation in designs of living things abounded. The red pillars had composite bases with bright colors of inlay: stone, glass, and metal.

The whole thing pleased her well, and she continued to modify and expand it. The Horizon of Amunhotep at Malkata was impressive, intimidating, and unconventional—but then so was Tiye herself!

Now she gathered her boy Akh into her arms and pressed him to her breasts, rocked him there. “You cannot marry me,” she whispered in his large ear, “yet our love will forever remain strong. I trust that Harmachis will grant you a great boon, as he did to your grandfather. You,” she sighed, “will leave your mark upon the world.”

“Could I be an artist, Mother? I love artworks.”

“I know that you admire the beauty of living things, just as I do. Only that is not a proper occupation for a prince, I fear. We have artisans to do that for us.”

“Well…” the boy sounded unconvinced. “I know that the Aten makes all living things, and Aten makes people also. You and me, Mother.”

She nodded, though she felt somewhat soiled within by her awareness of the child’s questionable status in the court. Akh had no idea of the scorn in which many courtiers held the little prince who was kept within the House of Queens. She knew that some spoke of him as an aberration to be hidden among the Secluded Women.

How little they know of the beauty of Akh’s soul,she considered.

In his ear, she whispered, “You and me.”

“Then Tuthmosis will be the Sun God when he is king?”

“Of course. That is what happens.”

“Then I will never be a Sun God, if I am not king.”

“You are radiant enough as you are.”

“I must think about this, Mother.”

While she embraced and fondled him, the lapping of the water on the hull should have lulled her; the drowsy sounds of ducks and insects should have soothed. Instead, a curious foreboding intruded. Suddenly the boy felt very heavy against her legs.

This child isthe Sun God, she recalled with the intuitive faculty called Intelligence-of-Heart what Nag-Quash-T had told her.Unlikely as it seems, that’s the only explanation. Tuthmosis will never rule; Akh will bring such changes as the Two Lands have never seen, some of them disastrous! Plus, I don’t believe that he will live very long—so I want him to have a very happy life, as much as possible for one born to his station. And I cannot get in the way of his Shai, for I am committed to protect him in every way that I can…

She wished she could dismiss this dark prescience, but it clung to her as surely as the boy clung to her knees.

Though she knew that his Shai was strange and in some ways ominous, she simply loved him too much to let any harm come to him, if she could prevent it. For most rulers, the Sun God is merely a title, but in the case of Akh, somehow I know that he is actually an incarnation of the Aten!

When she saw her disquiet mirrored in the eager young face before her, Tiye smiled, and then tickled his sides.

His shrieks of laughter scattered ducks across the lake in a beating of wings that filled the air with bright spangles of water.

 

 

Chapter Four:

Intelligence-of-Heart

 

He came running, wide-eyed like a startled fawn from out of sight, and skidded to a halt upon the papyrus carpets before her. He not only damaged the intricate weavings from Lower Egypt with the haste and force of his feet, but the black, smelly mud dripped from him and sank into the weave. He seemed oblivious to both forms of damage, still catching his breath, and then he bent forward with hands on his knees.

“You must not play so roughly with the other children!” Tiye scolded her son from the chair where she sat beneath a sky blue canopy fringed with sparkling silver ankhs all around. She leaned back on one arm. This day the Queen wore an indigo gown beneath transparent wings of a long white cape shot through with silver threads. Her own auburn hair was caught up within a bag wig of gold cloth. The painted eyes glinted with amusement while her regal brow knitted in disapproval. “You look like a rat that has crawled from a flooded canal!”

Muddy and streaked all over from his latest adventure, Akh backed off slightly and still dripping, bowed his head and scraped his crusty feet over the grass before the carpet where her chair had been placed. Yet as always he felt no penitence while she scolded him—rather it made him feel especially close to his mother. This time he had not seen her for several days, as she had been absent from the House of Queens, and her absence troubled him.

Now with her eyes upon him, Akh could feel the heat of her love, along with her cool appraisal of his appearance and behavior. He never felt accountable to anyone but himself, with the single exception of his mother. “I only wanted to sail my boats… it was the girls who decided we should go swimming.”

“Swimming is excellent, my darling, but you should do it in a clean pool. These garden ponds are thick with mud and sediment in the bottom. The fish defecate in the water constantly. Who knows what vile humors might lurk there to make you sick?”

He shivered, but lifted his long chin defiantly. “The girls teased me. When I would not let them adjust the sails on my little boats—which takes a realsailor like me—they pushed me into the pond first. Then, of course, I had to pull them in with me.”

Tiye clucked twice and raised a hand. “It does not matter who started it, Son. The princesses are also dirty as little swamp animals. And now youneed to be washed well and dressed.”

“We were having such fun! I didn’t want to stop, not even after one of my ships sank—” A sharp glance from those upswept eyes cut him short; he halted his little dance of impatience. “Yes, Mother.”

“Go with Meshket to get cleaned up and dressed. Tonight you are to join your father when he dines in the gardens of the Usechet.”

His face lit. “That’s marvelous! I’m hardly ever allowed to go out into the Usechet. People will see me…”

“I’ll feel very proud of how lovely and clean you are, my Flame.” More pleased with his spirit than upset by his exuberance, Tiye watched the skinny and bedraggled boy submit to his nurse, as he turned away with Meshket’s hand on his neck.

Though he was spindly and big-nosed with something mismatched about his parts, Akh was in no way unhealthy. He was far from simple-minded, as some assumed from his unusual appearance, rather he was unusually bright—possibly Tiye though, even brighter than herself. He amazed and mystified her more and more all the time, as he had become a lively handful for the House of Queens to contain any longer.

Reluctantly she had decided that he would begin schooling with a palace scribe, and have some lessons in the House of Princes, to help direct his abundant energy. He was well past the age when most male children were transferred from among the Secluded to the paramilitary quarters for princes. Still, there was nothing ordinary about Akh, or more properly, Prince Amunhotep. His mother did not look forward to imposing that more formal court nomenclature, however, it was something he would have to live with.

Despite her wish to keep him sheltered within the House of Queens, shielded from intrigues, maneuvers and manipulations of the court, and from unkind, uncomprehending stares, Tiye knew that her son must have some experience of those harsher realities. He must learn that the rest of the world will not necessarily treat him with such tolerance and patience as I do. So he must become a student and study protocol, writing, horsemanship and chariot driving. In the process he will surely learn something of human evil.

Akh padded along after Meshket. He trailed somewhat reluctantly on her strong hand. For no clear reason he knew, he dreaded seeing his father, much as it also made it seem like a festival day to him.

In the bathhouse that adjoined Tiye’s suite, Meshket stripped him of his soiled and sodden kilt and his folded head-cloth; his pectoral, bracelets and earrings all vanished from him on the nimble brown fingers. Naked, he stepped onto the bathing stone atop wooden drainage slats. He ignored his nurse’s admonishing chatter as she poured warm scented bathwater over him, lathered him with fragrant spikenard dissolved in olive oil, scrubbed, rinsed and then dried him with clean linen.

All the while his mind sprinted ahead to the spectacle of dinner with his father, the God.

At the age of seven, Akh lived in an expanding universe of wonders he constantly learned more about. His curiosity reached out to the complex and dangerous total of mysteries beyond the House of Queens in which he had grown like a weed.

Already he knew quite a lot about the Ah’a—those narrower halls and more modest scaled private chambers of the palace, though this part was the most fabulously and richly decorated portion as well. The Ah’a was royal family quarters, the most sacrosanct and heavily guarded portion of the residence—courts, halls and apartments where the Lord and Lady of the Two Lands could live privately, as human beings.

Most intriguing of all in Akh’s vivid imagination were the second floor apartments atop a central loggia of stairs, a place called the King’s House of Adoration. Those rooms, which also opened onto the coolness of the roof at night, belonged strictly to his father Nebmaatra. No one could even approach the doors unbidden, and even then only gained admittance by permission of the Steward of the King’s Chamber.

Apart from the A’ha, the remainder of the palace’s immensity was the Usechet, meaning “broad,” just as Ah’a meant “narrow.” Those wider, brighter halls and larger courtyards of the Usechet received public visitors, hosted receptions, audiences, judgments and the official bestowal of royal favor.

Akh had once been in the Great Pillared Hall, which Tiye informed him solemnly, resembled the great cedar forests of Lebanon. It proved gigantically empty that day, except for their echoing footsteps and naturally amplified voices. In that grand edifice, on specified occasions, his parents sat upon thrones in full regalia, to be seen and known and worshiped as the Living God and his Goddess. In recent years it was mostly Tiye alone there, where she presided as Lady Maat, now that Nebmaatra seldom emerged from the Ah’a.

Amazing things revolved through the brilliant young mind of Akh as Meshket powdered his body with a florally sweet mixture of talc and starch, then made him sit on a chair while she knelt and painted his small face. His lips she carmined with henna; his eyelids were silvered with powdered mica; his eyes and eyebrows she painted with kohl.

Akh’s thoughts roamed along mysterious associations… he knew plenty about the great river Iteru. Now he saw in his mind’s eye how it emerged from its source in the underworld to the south and thence flowed north along endless river valleys of the Two Lands, spread out through lush swamps and islands of the delta and then emptied into the Great Green Sea at the coast of Lower Egypt.

Iteru brought the three seasons: Flood, Growing, and Harvest. All along the length of the great river countless canals threaded into the valleys along both shores and wove the entire kingdom together in cycles of fertility and regeneration. The river and the waterways connecting with it carried all of the traffic in the Two Lands and irrigated the farmlands enriched by potent black topsoil called Kemi, left each year by the abating deluge at the start of the season of Growing.

Akh stood up when Meshket grunted her readiness to dress him. He lifted his thin arms from his sides and she wrapped a pleated kilt cut to his size around his hips, tied it in place with a flourish, then slipped a girdle of colored faience and gold beads around his waist. She slid a wide pectoral collar around his neck and secured the counter-weight of a large gold ankh behind his bony shoulder blades.

He knew there were hundreds of gods and goddesses—though most were forms of no more than nine or a dozen major deities—and thousands of temples throughout the Two Lands, which meant it was an extremely blessed and safe place. Still, he also knew that the ancient forms of the Sun God, Ra-Harmachis, Ra-Harakte, the Beautiful Aten, by whichever name, appearing in the east, disappearing in the west each day—was the oldest and greatest god among them.

His mother Tiye had taught him this truth, along with much of what he knew. All of the other deities served functions in the natural world or the human world: they watched over the crops, the animals, the times of year, the times of day, they protected children, inspired order, balance and harmony, and they brought wisdom and love. However, the Sun God, especially in his oldest and purest form as the Sun Disk of Aten, along with his brother Iteru, these two were the only gods of truly major importance.

The Prince thrust his fists through the heavy gold bracelets that bore turquoise, coral and lapis lazuli scarab beetles with extended wings on them in the form of Shefferu, Lord of Cycles, another form of Ra. He allowed Meshket to insert his largest turquoise earrings in his earlobes.

He knew well how much the imperial guards impressed everyone with their blue helmets and white military kilts, their scimitars and spears. They were, every one of them, impressive, brawny men whose great muscular arms, chests and legs added to their stern presence.

He also knew that he was the son of the King, and those imposing guards must respect who he was, and do everything possible to protect him. Upon sight of him, the guards always bowed their heads and thumped a clenched fist tot heir hearts in salute, and then they would hold their spear out vertically at attention, as if ready to dispatch some threat to him. Likewise, they never dared to meet his eyes directly, even when they answered a command form him at his request.

He also knew that these men feared his mother more than they feared his father.

Now Meshket lifted a blue and white striped head cloth, called an afnet,on her fingers. She snapped it open with a practiced flip of her wrist, and pulled it over his shaven head, and tucked his sidelock inside of it. Then she tied two ribbed ribbons that indicated his supreme royal status, at the back of his head. She used pinched fingertips to tweak apart the flanges of the afnet opposite his strong cheekbones, adjusted the entire head cloth with care.

Finally his nurse leaned back and smiled, pleased with her work.

“What is it, Mesh-Mesh?” Akh emerged from his reveries about his world.

She grinned with affectionate warmth. “Oh, my Lord Prince, you look like a proper little King!

“What else should I look like?”

“You appear splendid as the Sun God himself!”

“Perhaps that’s who I am, Mesh-Mesh. I… I feel like a lion today!”

“It is fitting, my precious little Lord.”

Meshket towed him by the hand, back to Tiye and they both enjoyed the twilight that consumed the garden with darkness, while fireflies emerged and blinked through the gathering darkness.

“How beautiful,” the boy spoke almost in a whisper, “this world where we live!” Shadows had grown long and deep within the high walls, where a hoopoe bird called.

The Sun Disk of Aten was slipping behind the tops of the rugged western cliffs.

Finally Akh wrenched his hand from that of Meshket and ran the last spate of steps to his mother’s chair where she sat on the porch of her rooms. She opened wide her arms, grabbed his sides and lifted him onto her knees, where she set him and held him like the traditional image of Isis with the Holy Child Horus on her lap.

She popped an extremely sweet confection of dates and palm sugars into his mouth, while somewhere in the dusk one of the Little Queens plucked a slow melody on a lute. The voices of quarrelsome monkeys drifted through acaia treetops that feathered the sky against the far wall while the night watchmen distributed bright torches to the ramparts of the Horizon of Amunhotep.

“My darling,” she said, “you look and smell like a prince again! My beloved little Amunhotep!” Despite her endearments, she never spoke down to him, but as to an intellectual equal. This had cultivated his confidence and his wits.

“Why do you call me that?”

“It is your name, my Flame. Akh is your Ren,your Secret Name, which only I am privileged to call you by.”

“Nefer calls me Akh.”

“Well, I can grant her that,” Tiye gave a throaty little chuckle. “Only it is fitting that all others call you properly by your correct nomenclature: Prince Amunhotep, the son of Amunhotep. Most likely you will have many more names than this by the time you reach the Western Lands.”

“Because you are the Queen of Queens, Mother, I suppose perhaps I will be King, but only after my brother dies… perhaps not until I am an old man.”

Tiye’s elegant wig, ornamented with quartz crystals and pearls, tilted slightly. “Why do you say that?” Her women had dressed her here in the garden while he was bathed and groomed and dressed.

“Because I know that you are Lady Maat.” He took her hand between both of his. “And you make all things possible in the goodness of Aten!”

She bestowed a warm, aching, somewhat wistful smile and her eyes glistened. “Your grandparents, my son … they will be with us tonight.”

“I know who they are,” he said brightly. “He is Menkheperura Tuthmosis, who uncovered the Seshep-Ankh,the Living Image of Harmachis from the sand and that way he became the Great House. She was a princess from Djahy…”

“Indeed, Son, those are the parents of your father. Only I am speaking now of my own parents who live here at the court in Malkata.”

“Oh, yes, of course! The King’s Master of Horse Yuya, and his wife, Lady Tuyu—my Mitanni grandfather and grandmother. Yuya always tells me that one day he will teach me all about horses and chariots. Your mother Tuyu is always going north to Sais in the delta, where she is a priestess of Neith, where the eternal flame burns in the great temple of the Fierce Mother of Nature who created the World in the wake of Flood. She always gives me candies and little statues of cats. Only the most remarkable thing about her is that she had yellow colored hair of her own, under her black wigs! And your father Yuya’s hair is light brown, plus they have strange light-colored eyes.”

“My, my, you know them quite well, don’t you?”

“Yes. I know that they came here from the village of Akhmim in the Lower Kingdom.”

“That’s right, darling. They came here to serve your other grandfather, Menkheperura Tuthmosis, here in Upper Egypt. In fact, I myself was born at Akhmim, and your Uncle Ay, my younger brother was also born there. Yuya and Tuyu were already very important people before they came here to Malkata, being descended from a long line of Mitanni warriors and priests. They owned a lot of land near Akhmim and my father was also Superintendent of Oxen. My mother’s titles were also Singer of Hathor and Chief of the Entertainers. She has a lovely singing voice and can dance!”

The little boy’s face brightened and he absorbed this quickly. “Yes, I know that Akhmim means House of Min, and that Yuya was the Prophet and High Priest of Min, the god with the big stiff penis. He is also a great warrior! All the royal horsemen and charioteers fear and obey him. But grandfather Yuya is also very nice to me, almost as nice as you are, Mother. He bends over and talks with me quietly, and answers all of my questions. I like him very much. He always smells strongly of garlic and spikenard—sometimes of horse sweat!”

Tiye laughed at his perceptiveness and his memory. “Yes, your father depends greatly upon my father to keep his cavalry and chariot legions strong and effective. I know that my mother Yuya is less known to you than her husband is, for as you say, she is often gone to Sais or Bubastis. I do wish that you could know her better, Akh. Tuyu is a dedicated and devout priestess of Neith, the goddess of the marshlands, patron of weavers and hunters. In fact, she made this beautiful sash that I am wearing tonight…” Tiye lifted the fine work in her free hand, while she held him with the other hand.

Mother and son both looked at the sash closely, as if they could see something of Yuya in it, and they both smiled, then Tiye allowed the weaving to drop against her thigh.

“I know little about Neith,” Akh said. “Who is she really?”

“Well, Prince Amunhotep,” she called him this and saw his slightly pinched, uncertain reaction, but then they both giggled. “It is in honor of Lady Neith that we celebrate the beautiful Festival of Lamps each year. We mix salt in the lamp oil for purification, and the lamps are all lit from the Sacred Flame kept at Sais. They burn throughout the Horizon all night long.”

He sighed and squirmed in his princely finery, feeling slightly trapped by it. “There are so many, many festivals, Mother! Forever another one coming for some other god or goddess before the last one is finished, it seems…

“Only it makes me wonder. Doesn’t… doesn’t grandmother Tuyu know that the Living Aten, Lord of the Sun Disk who is the Lord of Light and Beauty and Life—as you have taught me—is the most important, perhaps even the onlyimportant god?”

“Yes, yes! My mother knows the Aten very well. She also knows that Neith is the mother and the daughter of Ra, and that Lady Bast, the car goddess, Lady of Joy, is the sister of Ra. Your father, Nebmaatra—the Lord of Truth and Harmony—is of course the Living Image of Ra, or as he prefers it, Ra-Harmachis, or even the Living Aten. You see, all the deities are related to the Sun Disk of Aten in some way. They are all the children of Creation.”

Akh frowned and he appeared quite vexed. He held his chin with the fingers of one hand, which made him look a bit like a small sphinx. He shook his head slowly back and forth. “It all seems much too complicated, Mother. Why should Creation be so complicated, if the Aten created all things in Harmony with the Double Plume of Maat? Of course, I love the Feast of Lamps… who could not love the beautiful lights in every room, and the next day, it does feel like the whole world has been washed! Plus, of course, grandmother Tuyu has been promising for years to being me some kittens from Bubastis! She always forgets. This time… has she just arrived from the delta?”

“Why yes, darling,” Tiye laughed. “She left Sais some weeks ago, then spent some time with Lady Hathor at Her Golden House along the way. It is just possible that she brought you something in a basket that makes curious little sounds. Still, let me warn you that Tuyu will give you a sermon about how every Sacred Cat is a Sun God incarnate, a Daughter of Bast, regardless of its sex!”

“Well, I believe that, so it will not be a problem.”

“She will also instruct you that your kittens and all of their descendents shall always wear turquoise collars for the magickal protection. My mother builds a new cat temple from the foundation stones upward every time she gives away a pair of kittens!”

The Prince grinned, and tugged at his mother’s intricately pleated sleeve. “I just know she brought them this time—it’s been so long since she first promised. I was so young then, that I scarcely remember it.”

Tiye smiled and crinkled her nose. “We can only hope.” She took hold of his arm. “You know, it is always during the Feast of Lamps that I feel closest to her… even closer than when she is here, for it is from her that I learned to love it. Of course, I am also proud of Yuya on the day that the Great House presents big fine lettuces to Min at the Feast of Meenu.”

Akh was about to ask her to tell him more about Lord Min, whom he knew only as the kingly god with an erection, though he suddenly grew impatient with all the chatter, and more excited about seeing his grandparents.

“Darling,” Tiye said and gently turned his young face up towards hers. She engaged his eyes with hers. “The comprehension of the gods and goddesses does not come to us through what we learn, rather it comes from a special quality that we can only find within us. It is called Intelligence-of-Heart. This is what the Voice of Silence tells you in the stillness of your soul. When the heart and mind come together as One, we simply know.” Lightly she touched his chest, then the middle of his brow. “In the Heart of Silence, the Eye of Wisdom called Udjat, which is the Moon Disk of your body as it is the Sun Disk of your heart, sees a great and unique Shai for this Prince.”

He looked about himself comically. “Which Prince?”

“You, of course, my little love.”

“Mother!” he chided her. “I know about all this already. Tell me something new…”

“Prince Amunhotep, you might as well get used to this name.” She winked. “Intelligence-of-Heart tells me that it is time for Queen Tiye to make her appearance, as always slightly late, to assert her supreme importance. And this time, it is a very special appearance—she has the noble company of her royal son, His Highness Prince Nefershefferura Amunhotep.”

Her son reached up a hand to touch her soft cheek, then tilted his head slightly to kiss her on the lips, then he squeezed her hand and released it to slip from her lap.

He marched slowly, with great dignity before her as Queen Tiye glided behind him in the direction of the door that led from her suite in the House of Queens to her suite in the Ah’a, and thence to the Usechet.

In tandem did they depart from the shelter of the A’ha.