The Forgotten: Aten's Last Queen

By J. Lynn Else

Ankhesenamun grew up a princess and became queen at age 13. Her husband, the famed King Tut, was 9. They were expected to restore Egypt to its former glory and renounce their family. They were forced to leave their home, abandon their god, and change their names. But how can these two lead a nation when they have lost all that they once were?

Ankhesenamun must also deal with a secret of the heart and of a man who has captured it. He is a person being hunted as an "Aten follower" by powerful men who wish to destroy monotheistic worship. Yet is it Aten he is worshipping or another god that long ago brought the Egyptian lands to its knees...

And there is one more thing that Ankhesenamun must keep secret - there is a young girl who was never supposed to have survived the fall of Akhenaten City, a daughter she bore that carries the blood of "the heretic" in her veins. There are people who will stop at nothing to find this daughter of Ankhesenamun's and end the line of "the heretic king" once and for all.

Ankhesenamun will do what she must for the good of her people and those she loves. But will it be enough to survive the most terrible of all fates - being erased from the walls of time? Being forgotten... Discover the adventure of one woman's lifetime.

• Language: English
• Publisher: J. Lynn Else
• Release date: Nov 4, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310568800

J. Lynn Else

J. Lynn Else first became interested in history in 1985 when the discovery of the RMS Titanic was national news. However, her favorite historical subject is ancient Egypt. She currently lives in Rochester, MN, with her husband, 2 kids, and 1 guinea pig. Find out more about her writing at: www.teasippinnerdymom.com. "Aten's Last Queen" is her first (self-published) book. Outside of reading voraciously and driving kids to multiple after-school activities, she enjoys a perfectly steeped cup of hot tea while honing her fruit ninja skills.

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Dedications

I dedicate this book to my mom and dad

for their unconditional love and unyielding support.

Thank you to my husband for his encouragement

while I was working on this book.

To my children: Always believe in

your dreams and yourself.

Dramatis Personae

(Alphabetically listed)

Akhenaten

Pharaoh of the Eighteenth dynasty. Ruled for 17 years. Changed name from Amenhotep IV during his 5th year as pharaoh. Introduced worship centered on Aten. Moved capital city to Akhenaten City. Son of Amenhotep III and Tiye.

Amenhotep III

The 9th Pharaoh of the Eighteenth Dynasty. Father to Sitamun, Djhutmose, Ahkenaten, Henuttaneb, Nebetiah, Isis, Baketaten, and Smenkhkare. Married to Tiye. Later married to Sitamun. Reigned for 39 years. Also known as Amenhotep the Magnificent.

Ankhesenpaaten/Ankhesenamun

Third of six daughters of Akhenaten and Nefertiti. Born in year 5 of Akhenaten's reign (c. 1345 B.C.). Sole consort of Tutankhamun. No recorded children in the historical record.

Ay

Son of Yuya and Tjuyu. Father to Nefertiti and Mutbenret. Brother of Tiye. Formerly a general under Amenhotep III. Counselor to Ahkenaten. High Vizier to Pharaoh Tutankhamun and Royal Chancellor.

Djhutmose

Eldest son of Amenhotep III and Tiye. Disappears from the official records during the third decade of his father’s reign.

Henuttaneb

Third daughter of Amenhotep III and Tiye. Sister of Pharaoh Akhenaten. Mother of Tutankhaten.

Horemheb

Started career in the army during the later years of Amenhotep III. General in the Royal Army at Akhenaten City. Commander-in-Chief under Tutankhamun as well as Royal Spokesman for foreign affairs.

Huy

Viceroy to Kush and Chief of both the Harem of Amun and the Royal Harem of Tutankhamun. Married to Lady Taemwadjsy. Father to Paser.

King Suppiluliuma

King of the Hittite Empire.

Mahu

Chief of Police in Akhenaten City.

Maia

Assistant to the royal family and appointed wet nurse to Tutankhaten. Mother to Usermontu.

Maya

Overseer of the Treasury and Fan-bearer on the Right of the King to Pharaoh Tutankhamun.

Marahkaten/Tia-Sitre

Daughter of Tadukhipa and Akhenaten. Born in year 5 of Akhenaten's reign (c. 1345 B.C.). Later married to Pa-ramessu.

Meketaten/Meket

Second daughter of Pharaoh Akhenaten and Nefertiti (born c. 1346 B.C.).

Meryra

A high priest of Aten at Akhenaten City.

Merytaten/Mayati

First child of Pharaoh Akhenaten and Nefertiti (born c. 1349 B.C.). Later married to Smenkhkare.

Mutbenret

Half-sister of Nefertiti. Daughter of Ay and Tey. Later married to Nakht-min. Mother to multiple children.

General Nakht-min

Generalissimo under Pharaoh Tutankhamun. Husband to Mutbenret. Father of Nakht-amun, Ashai, and a daughter.

Nefernefruaten Tasherit

Fourth daughter of Akhenaten and Nefertiti born during Year 6 (c. 1341 B.C.) of Akhenaten’s reign.

Neferneferure

Fifth daughter of Akhenaten and Nefertiti born during Year 9 (c. 1340 B.C.) of Akhenaten’s reign.

Nefertiti/Nefernefruaten

Akhenaten’s Great Wife. Daughter of Ay and his first wife. Half-sister to Mutbenret. Mother to six daughters.

Pa-ramessu/Ramesses I

Son of Amenhotep III’s troop commander, Seti (B. 1350 B.C.). Favored confidant of Horemheb. Married to Tia-Sitre.

Panehsy

Chief priest at Akhenaten City.

Pannefer

Royal Cupbearer to Akhenaten and responsible for serving the drinks at the royal table at Akhenaten City.

Paser

Son of Huy and Taemwadjsy. Viceroy to Kush during the reigns of Ay and Horemheb.

Pay

Overseer of the royal private apartments, Overseer of the cattle of Amun, & Overseer in charge of the Royal Harem at Man-nefer.

Pentu

Royal physician of Akhenaten City. Later Vizier of Lower Egypt under Pharaoh Tutankhamun.

Setepenre

Sixth daughter of Akhenaten and Nefertiti born during Year 11 (c. 1339 B.C.) of Akhenaten’s reign.

Sitamun

Eldest daughter of Amenhotep III and Tiye. Later married to her father around Year 30 of his reign. Mother of Smenkhkare.

Smenkhkare

Son of Amenhotep III and Sitamun. Married to Merytaten. Ruler of Akhenaten City after the death of Akhenaten.

Tadukhipa/Kiya

Daughter of King Tushratta and a Mitanni princess. Married to Amenhotep III at the very end of his reign. Lesser wife of Akhenaten. Mother to Marahkaten.

Tey

Second wife of Ay and mother of Mutbenret.

Tiye

Sister to Ay. Great Royal Wife of Amenhotep III. Mother of Sitamun, Djhutmose, Ahkenaten, Henuttaneb, Nebetiah, Isis, and Baketaten.

Tushratta

King of Mitanni. Father of Tadukhipa.

Tutankhaten/Tutankhamun

Son of Akhenaten and Henuttaneb (c. 1341 B.C.). Married to Ankhesenamun and crowned Pharaoh at age 9.

Usermontu

Son of Lady Maia and Nebmehyt. Provincial Governor, Priest of Ma’at, & a royal judge. Vizier of Upper Egypt.

Wahankh

Guard familiar to Nefertiti and subsequently Ankesenpaaten. Former playmate of Nefertiti growing up.

Wennefer

High Priest of Amun at Waset under Pharaoh Tutankhamun.

A glossary of Egyptian terms and major deities can be found in the back of this book along with a sneak peek of The Forgotten 2 Heir of the Heretic due out in 2016.

Between Life and Death

1322 B.C.

I am the last.  And once the new king is crowned, I am dispensable. 

The world was beginning to stir, but I had been up long before Ra’s ship had spotted the horizon. I stood alone and gazed out at the effervescent blue water churning gently in the wake of the early morning ferries. Despite the peace of the morning, my thoughts were still bloated with fear and death. 

It was all happening so fast that I could barely keep my wits and emotions together.  What with the loss of my daughter and husband so close together, I needed to find someone I could trust. 

As despair threatened to overpower me, the worries trapped in my mortal shell were the only thing driving me forward.  Each day became a fight to keep the emotions at bay, a fight to not give up, and a struggle to care for more than myself.  I could not give in.  I would not give in.  That is not what my family would want me to do. 

My dear husband rushed his departure, rushed to leave the temples, these scents, these sights, and rushed into battle after the loss of our second child.  I could not let him die in vain.  My plan could bring peace to the lands, and only I would be able to do this. 

I am the last.

The walls of my family’s tombs had been violated, their names erased from memory.  I could not let this happen to my husband or to me.  I needed to set things right so our names would not be remembered as heretics.  Surely the feather of Ma’at weighs differently for those who truly believe what they did was right?  I would assure their places in the Afterlife.  Even if they hurt me and then left me standing here now… alone. Even if my heart had yet to forgive one of them…

I thought of my mother. After she had left, my sisters and I had lost all the rights we had grown up with.  We no longer held power or respect.  We were taken and used to produce sons.  Pharaoh had wanted another son so badly that he used us and forgot those long-ago times when we were once happy and full of love.  Yet looking back, with so much loss around me now, I had more than I ever realized then, so much I didn’t appreciate.  In the here and now, there was a vast unknown in front of me.  Like the long and fierce Nile that I stood in front of, this unknown was endless and unyielding.  I was groping to find my way out, my eyes useless like those of a blind man’s. 

I had finally found hope in my life.  At long last, there had been goodness.  My husband had been kinder to me than father had.  For once, I was not just a vessel to produce heirs for the throne.  I was actually someone who was needed and valued.  My husband respected me and asked for my opinions on things that weighed heavy on his heart.  He was also always there when I needed someone.  When I was sick with child, he was there to comfort me.  No one had ever treated me like that before.  No one had ever touched me gently or waited until I was ready.  Now who knew what my fate would be?  Who would claim me next?  I knew that with my bloodline, the last of my family capable of producing a child (at least, the last known heir), I would be used to solidify the next pharaoh.  The thought made me shudder with fear. 

My heart felt heavier than our entire treasury, but I could not let fear of the unknown sway me.  I knew what I was doing would be what was right for my family’s legacy.  The only way to keep the throne in my family’s hands and clear their names of the hearsay my father started would be by producing a new heir, but what I planned had never been done before.  Pharaohs had sent for princesses from other lands to marry, but never before had a queen called for a prince from another land. 

It was my last hope, and I must get the Hittite emissary here without those standing around me finding out.  Even if the Hittites were our enemies, a marriage between us would bring about peace between our lands and keep my family on the throne.  Then I could produce an heir with my family’s blood and keep them all alive.  I could continue the reunification of the temples, the palace, and the people.

Light began to creep up my body and pierced at my eyes.  Looking up, I noticed that Aten was rising early this day.  Ra’s journey had been a success. Out in the Nile, the surface suddenly broke as a fish jumped up out of the water, scales sparkling in the new sunlight, before it returned into the churning depths.  The rippling pool, the memory of the moment, expanded out like my shadow as Aten rose higher. I smiled and wondered if this one fish was as relieved as I was at Ra’s return. It had been a long night with demons that had threatened me.

My thoughts departed from my heart for a moment, and I stepped down the landing quay closer to the water and gazed into its depths.  How I had always loved immersing my feet in water and letting its cool touch surround me.  I had looked forward to taking my daughter down here and showing her the gentle touch of Khnum.  My husband and I had loved the clear pools at Akhenaten, but the fresh water of the Nile was so much cooler to the toes. On this morning as I took a step down into the waters, the silky, foaming touch helped to calm the burning desire to restore my family’s name, just as it had once eased my husband’s pain.

I took a deep breath and quieted the frantic chattering of my heart.

This marriage was a huge risk, but the country also could gain much from it. And perhaps this marriage I proposed would bring value to my life again. I was not something to be bartered for the golden throne. I was a person who had seen three Pharaohs rule. I had been forced to marry two of them, only one of whom brought me joy, and now I would make a choice for my life. My choice…

This will be my last gift to my late husband, Pharaoh Tutankhamun.  Even if I could not give him a child, I would still give him life.  I would keep his name on the lips of history. 

I have to make it right.

My thoughts continued to bubble out from my heart just like the ripples in the Nile stirred up by that one small fish -- one small idea growing and quickly expanding.  Or perhaps it was one moment quickly expanding away from the present, only to be remembered by the reliefs left on crumbling tomb walls, shut away from the light of Aten’s love and His life surrounding it.

I closed my eyes and tried to release the dark thoughts from my heart. One more breath…

I opened my eyes and gazed out into the waters. Along the surface, Aten’s reflection danced. I thought about a time long ago. Nineteen years, was it?  As my reflection rolled around and swam in the waves below me, my memory fell back to a time that in my heart, compared to this day, felt like the reed fields of Aaru.  As I looked down at my face, the light of my God embraced me. My eyes blurred and I saw faces from the past. I could not tell if it was a memory or just the tears playing tricks on my eyes.

Part One:

The Sandbank of Apophis

Chapter One

Both Shadow and Light

1341 B.C.

The screams could be heard all across Akhenaten’s city that night.  Henuttaneb was in labor, and it was not going well. Blood seeped into the tiles and across the floor as the birth women tried to deliver the new member of Akhenaten’s family. 

The first child was always the hardest one.  The nurses were frightened and confused as they did not know what to expect with the princess’s birth, and Henuttaneb had been in the birthing chamber far too long. 

This was one of my first memories, and I was only 4 at the time.  Those screams would never erase themselves from anyone’s mind that day.  The smell of something terribly wrong swept the palace along the evening’s summer breeze.  I could not tell what it was at the time, but now I recognize the smell as the opened doors into Duat.  I was kept in a holding room with my nurse, but my two older sisters recounted the details of the night when I was years older and curious about my aunt. 

As the light crept away from the sky and darkness descended, the young princess Henuttaneb began to drift through the Underworld’s doors.  Merytaten, 9, and Meketaten, 5, had hidden behind a pillar and watched the terrifying scene.  The birthing room had not been completely walled off from the nurses’ private rooms, and if you knew the palace well enough, you could sneak in during a birth.  My sisters were excited for a new baby in the house, but they did not expect what they saw. 

Henuttaneb had tried hard to deliver her child, but she could not get him out.  Pharaoh’s doctor, Pentu, was called in. He felt inside of her where the baby was supposed to emerge from and said she was all twisted up inside, so he had to cut to find the little babe. 

Meketaten had run away when Henuttaneb was cut apart, blindly running through the nurses’ rooms and out into a small patch of garden outside the harem’s quarters.  She threw up for hours afterward.  A nurse found her in the early morning light lying as if in a trance and staring out into the horizon.  The sun’s light formed a blanket around her body, which had been bruised by the pillars and walls from her blind run.  She kept calling out for Henuttaneb to leave Amun’s boat and return to them. 

The nurse hid her the following day so she could calm down and stop talk of the god Amun, the one Father had banned first and foremost.  Any mention of the cursed god would bring about severe punishment as the priests and followers of Amun were thought to be traitors to the livelihood of the throne.

Merytaten, my oldest sister, was rooted in place and found that she could not look away. As the doctor reached inside Henuttaneb to find the baby, Merytaten swore that she could see Henuttaneb’s ka slowly curling out from her body like steam off cooked meat.  From that point on, Merytaten did not eat from animal flesh for fear that their ka would sneak into her body as Henuttaneb’s had risen out of hers.  And though she loved her aunt, for fear of Henuttaneb stealing her body, no longer a person or an aunt but a dying spirit, a distorted and lost piece of a soul, Merytaten finally found the will to tear herself away. Her legs obeyed her again. She ran from the room and went to find our mother.

Nefertiti stood outside in a stony silence.  She listened but did not enter.  She feared that the demons ailing Henuttaneb would enter her womb and afflict her too, so she waited outside for cries of a baby.  Her long body stood tense.  Her hands rested on a small bulge in her belly as she waited for news.  She was again showing the first signs of pregnancy. 

Her graceful neck swept up into a face that was strikingly beautiful but angled with worry.  Her lips were drawn thin, her high cheekbones were sharp, her almond-shaped brown eyes were wide and alert, and her dark hair swept down loosely across the tops of her shoulders.  She wore no wig today and only a simple blue flax sheath dress which delicately flowed down from the top of her belly to her ankles.  Two wide white straps came up from her belly, over her breasts, around the shoulders, and down her back.  I remembered this dress. It was so smooth and clear that it looked like waves of the Great River had drunk in her body and would not let it go. Her only jewelry was a golden full-bloom lotus blossom necklace given to her long ago by Akhenaten, but that was before he knew the touch of another woman’s body against his.  It was a gift to protect her when he was not there, and she found herself wearing it more often of late.

As confident as my mother appeared, she was fragile when it came to any other woman pulling away her husband’s attention.  Henuttaneb, my father’s younger sister, had always been close to him.  When Nefertiti could not produce a son of her own, he then turned to his sister, the last sibling in his family still alive.  Though this is quite common for royalty, Nefertiti thought her family would be different.  She had captivated the Pharaoh’s attention and entranced a nation. Yet he took a second wife, Tadukhipa, or Kiya as Pharaoh called her playfully. Tadukhipa was a princess from Mittani.  She was exotically beautiful and smart.  She could prove resourceful when dealing with foreign dignitaries.  Mother had found relief when Tadukhipa had produced a daughter as well.  She had assumed that Pharaoh would realize he needed no other women in his life. But this was not the case. Bruising my mother’s heart again, father had then taken Henuttaneb to his bed in hopes of producing a son. Around the dawn of my third year, Henuttaneb was made Pharaoh’s third wife.

Nefertiti had tried to console herself in a thin hope that Henuttaneb would become just a harem girl. With running a new capital city and stomping a family of deities from existence, how could Pharaoh possibly find time for a third wife? But, again, she was wrong.  Pharaoh felt a strong connection with Henuttaneb. She could often make Akhenaten laugh with stories of their youth together and with her sharp wit.  Nefertiti was bred for the life of a queen, and though she excelled in running a kingdom alongside her husband, she lacked the ability to share intimately her private thoughts and emotions.  It made her feel stripped, unprotected, and so her Akhenaten fell more and more for the ba that filled Henuttaneb. Pharaoh loved those qualities which made Henuttaneb who she was, the person which my mother was not.  Slowly, Nefertiti realized that Henuttaneb had the power to become a greater wife than her. She saw herself slipping into obscurity, and she was scared.

My mother was strong.  She was the daughter of Ay, one of Amenhotep III’s favorite troop commanders as well as Tiye’s brother, the woman who was Amenhotep’s Great Wife.  On top of entertaining visits from the Queen of Kemet, Mother had grown up with her own lively and vivacious mother who could run a household full of soldiers with ease as well as service the needs of Nefertiti’s Queen-Aunt.  Nefertiti had always been surrounded by power and royalty.  She was the flower of a smart and resourceful woman as well as a tactical and thoughtful father, and Nefertiti possessed all of these traits.  Both of her parents were engaging and bold in personality.  Nefertiti’s presence alone commanded that kind of attention.  She got it from her people, but her husband seemed to draw more and more distant from her with each passage of Ra’s boat across the heavens.  Henuttaneb was the final blow.  She knew that something was changing.  She knew that Akhenaten had some other plan for her.  The people were beginning to call for her more than him.  They prayed to her and worshipped her.  It was her greatest pride, but it was the biggest crack in her marriage to Pharaoh. 

Nefertiti was driven to help her husband, but she was becoming too great. Did she know then that Pharaoh was bound to fail? She worked endlessly and believed she was establishing his authority, leading his people in the belief of Aten, but Pharaoh’s own pride got in the way. She was taking his place even though she never meant to. And because of this, Nefertiti did not know what this night, this birth, would mean for her.

As she listened to the screaming behind closed doors, she could not help but wonder if this pain was her fault. Her fault for going too far? How many nights had she cried silently in agony that her husband no longer loved her as much as she did him? If Henuttaneb gave Pharaoh his long-sought-after son, she knew that her position would collapse. But what feared her most was figuring out what meant more to her -- her people or her husband. In truth, she loved her people passionately. She wanted to lead them. If she lost them too, she was not sure what she would do. She wanted to cry out --

Silence…

The night seemed to disappear into nothing but silence.

It was a ringing silence – a silence that was a haunting echo of what had once filled the halls moments before. It was a shadow in the ears, which only seemed to grow louder and pushed away all other sounds in its wake.  Not a heartbeat could be heard as all thoughts became still and empty.

Then the clear sound of a baby crying broke the night air like an egg’s shell tapped by a spoon.  Nefertiti began to pick at her fingernails, a sign that she was nervous.  Could this lesser wife have produced what she could not?  Did Henuttaneb give her Akhenaten a son?  Her heart seemed to start beating again, but this time it was beating double than she thought possible. Merytaten came out from the shadows and ran to stand beside her, but the queen took no notice.

The crying grew louder as the baby was carried closer to those outside the birthing room.  Ever so gently, the doors drifted open and out came a nurse, Maia, with a tiny baby just starting to settle down in her arms. The child drank from the nursemaid’s breast.  Though Maia’s body was like soft linen wrapping around the small baby, her eyes were frightened.  She stood silently for a moment before the queen.  As she bowed her head, she released the words she knew the queen dreaded.

Queen Nefertiti, it is a boy.

The moment had come.  Pharaoh had his son.

If the queen was shaken by this news, no one could tell. The women in my mother’s close circle knew of Nefertiti’s secret desire of Henuttaneb producing a female.  It is something only women could understand.  But it was also a way for my mother to believe that she had done nothing wrong. A way to reassure that she had not failed…

Instead of anger, though, Nefertiti expressed joy.  She stretched out her long arms toward the baby.

Hand me our new prince.  I wish to hold my pharaoh’s son.  I must tell him of the good news! she said regally.  Maia still had a shroud of nervousness floating about her body, fearing a secret emotion in the queen’s heart, but she gently pulled the baby from her and handed him over.  She could not deny a request from Pharaoh’s Great Wife. Nefertiti’s head was held high as she took the little boy in her arms. 

The baby’s eyes were bright when he looked up at the queen.  All was hushed.  It was as if he knew royalty when he saw it.  He laid in her arms and simply stared at an errand strand of hair which gently floated along the queen’s cheekbone.  The rest had been tucked gently behind her ear.

My queen, Henuttaneb has been taken into the world of the dead.  Maia’s voice was heavily weighted with emotion.

The queen simply looked down at the boy and began rocking him gently.  It was as if she had not heard the nurse. Maia was about to speak again when Nefertiti finally interupted the mournful stillness surrounding them, Pharaoh must know of this right away.  Our God, Aten, has sent us a message.

Maia bowed her head in grief.  She had been with Henuttaneb during the pregnancy to help ease things for her and try to ensure a healthy labor.  But before the tears could fall, there were orders to be followed.

Clean up this mess with the other attendants that were present.  Pharaoh should not be troubled by this sight.  Burn the remains so we make sure the demons no longer linger to infect the rest of us who continue to bear Pharaoh’s future.  Then Nefertiti smoothly turned away. 

Maia began the preparations for the cleanup and for the pyre.  It was obvious by the queen’s tone of voice that there would be no funerary rites.  Henuttaneb was to be burned along with anything else associated with her.  It was the worst sort of command, to destroy the body and thereby lose the soul itself. But with great sickness and fear of an evil that could spread, there could be no other choice. At least, that is how I understood mother’s motivation behind her directives. The other more vengeful motivation is one I do not think my mother would dare let drive her decisions. She would have to answer for it in the Afterlife if that was her real reason for erasing Henuttaneb’s existence.

Nefertiti purposefully walked to Pharaoh’s chambers with Merytaten close behind, the two traveling silently away from the sadness and turmoil nipping hungrily at their heels.  Mother’s moves were lioness-like in their elegance and strength.  They never seemed to waver in their sureness of purpose.  Her body was always sleek and graceful even when it was filling with child.  She could intoxicate all men around her, but she only wished for the devotion of one. 

The walk to the pharaoh’s chambers was all the way across the palace from the harem’s quarter. Henuttaneb had not yet moved into the royal apartments as construction of her room was unfinished, and thus she had delivered her child where she had spent her days.  The harem quarters were decorated lushly and had its own garden area.  But this paled in beauty the closer one got to the royal house where extraordinarily more colors and details could be found. 

It was amazing what my father had accomplished in such a short period of time.  The palace was a beauty to behold.  It lay in a perpendicular line to the Great River and rested in the perfect spot to absorb the long arms of Aten, which were ever reaching down to warm His followers. The light reflected across the floors, giving them the appearance of a smooth surface like that of the Nile on a calm morning.  It was a testament to the beauty of Aten.  At this moment, though, it was dark and somber all around Nefertiti.  The smell of blood was beginning to permeate the corridors and up onto the bridge, which took mother over the Royal Road and into our house, despite the nursemaids’ best efforts to clean up the mess that was left of Henuttaneb. 

A sharp sound preceded her, the staccato clicking of Nefertiti’s sandals as she walked.  Merytaten’s feet were a delicate rustling against the floor like grass brushed against itself by the wind.  Otherwise, there was no sound around them.  It was as if all life had disappeared except for four footfalls stippling along the torch-lit gypsum tiles.  The firelight danced on the colored pillars and floors making strange shapes and reflections off the beautiful structures.  Even the golden doors and decorations, gold being the precious skin of the God Aten, seemed menacing as the firelight played with it and contorted its images. Fire was a tricky element, using both shadow and light to deceive.

My mother walked up to the second level of rooms.  This was where Pharaoh and his royal wives slept.  She passed by the guards outside Pharaoh’s quarters quickly as they parted his doors for her. They did not even have time to announce her arrival. 

His chamber was lit with dozens of candles.  He paced nervously across the floor until he saw Nefertiti.  At that moment, his heart seemed to sink a little.  It was as if he already knew what was about to be said.  Merytaten had never seen such a look before.  She decided to stay in the gloom where the candlelight would not touch her in case her father got angry.  The last thing she wanted was to be noticed when Pharaoh got mad.

Nefertiti spoke clearly and crisply, "My Pharaoh, my beloved, the good God Aten has spoken.  He has taken Henuttaneb into the Underworld.  His message is clear; this son is to be my son.  We will raise him as our own.  Aten has decided to bless me with this child, a son Henuttaneb was unfit to bear, and I bring him now to you, my love."

Her voice seemed to ring across the entire palace.  By morning, everyone knew of Queen Nefertiti’s son.  Henuttaneb’s place would be forgotten quickly, her life erased from the walls of our house.  A wet nurse would provide the baby with the nourishment he needed as he grew.  It all fit together, designed well by the God the servants would say as convincingly as they could.  Some of them had been with Pharaoh’s family since before Akhenaten's birth.  They knew the royal family like their own.  They had loved Henuttaneb and had a hard time seeing her erased from their lives.  Being one of the youngest of her siblings, she had the privileges of being a princess but without the stress that weighed on her older siblings.  Though slightly spoiled, she had always been cheerful and abundant with her smiles.  She resembled her mother, Queen Tiye, more than any child.  Now a goodbye could never be given to her.  There was no tomb to leave offerings and prayers.  There was nothing of her life left.

Later that night, a celebration was held, and the bells of the temples rang clear for the new baby.  No one asked questions, they would all accept the new child of Akhenaten and his great wife.  Temple carvings were begun in a few short hours after the baby’s arrival.  The carvings never said Nefertiti was his mother, but they did not use his birthmother’s name. I never asked why this was for fear of mother’s answer and a menacing spirit lingering behind it… just like I never asked about burning the body.

What shall we call our new son? Nefertiti asked awakening Pharaoh from his mournful silence. He looks just like his handsome father.  He is a strong and worthy heir for our lands!

Nefertiti brought the babe to Pharaoh.  Father was tall, a head taller than my mother, but this did not make him a lean man. His thighs had girth to them that were not from muscle. He had a small protruding belly that stuck out over his belt, which he never tried to conceal. His face was long and thin with sharp cheekbones. He had narrow eyes and full lips. His chin and neck seemed flow together as if one piece, like the trunk of a young tree. His fingers and toes were elongated. His eyes were a deep blue and could command attention. If smiling, he was not an unattractive man. In fact, all his features seemed well-crafted when absorbed together.

Though a little shaky, Akhenaten’s strong arms wrapped around the little boy protectively.  He enveloped his son close to his chest, as if Akhenaten was trying to grasp the last of Henuttaneb’s life which had slipped out of the palace.  His eyes glistened with tenderness, and he took in a deep loud breath.

Though Akhenaten seemed to struggle for a moment to speak, he did not cry.  Merytaten always said how scared she was to see our father tremble and hesitate in such a way.  He was always so confident and strong. But in private, his strong façade quickly faded into that of an emotional man who loved his family and his self-driven religion deeply.  In moments like this, he let his emotions waver ever so slightly in the presence of his wives.  He feared the people would think him mad showing such a display of feelings, but he needed these moments to let go of the conflicting emotions that tormented him during his days in keeping his monotheism strong and avoiding conflict from the former priests of those now-unnamed gods.  He would even keep his emotions hidden from us, his daughters, lest rumors spread from our mouths accidentally.  It was a difficult and draining task every day to run this new kingdom, but he kept strong for everyone outside and around the palace. 

Right now, this was a time when he was allowed a little emotion.  Merytaten stood still, hidden in the darkness which danced in the candlelight and filled the corners of the room.

Pharaoh’s voice was thick as he spoke, "Our God has sent us a blessing, so we shall call him what he is, the living image of Aten.  Prince Tutankhaten."

The room was quiet then, and Merytaten thought this moment as a good time to slip away.  She could not escape our mother’s notice though.  They say a mother always knows, and when Nefertiti called Merytaten’s name to stop her, she did not sound surprised by her presence. Merytaten could not even recall mother’s eyes cast toward her.

Mayati, my curious girl, gather the princesses.  They must meet their new brother. Nefertiti ordered, her voice filled with a hint of slyness as if she shared in the secret of Merytaten’s eavesdropping. 

Mother’s voice was its own supple, sharp whip.  The softness to her tone was almost worse than a harsh reprimand.  It made us think that no matter what we sisters did, our mother would always know.  Mother was very smart, and she was very good at planting seeds and watching them grow.  This was just another of her seeds that she used for Merytaten to warn her not to try to sneak up on her or her husband again. 

Merytaten looked toward her father, but he did not seem to see her at all.  He only had eyes for his new son.  Merytaten quickly left the room confused, scared, and on command. 

It was then that Nefertiti and Akhenaten were alone with the newborn boy. Nefertiti stood straight and tall beside Akhenaten as he took a seat in a chair. He simply stared at the small child whose life had taken away another’s. By now, Tutankhaten had fallen asleep.

My son, he said quietly.

Our son, my beloved, Nefertiti cut in. 

Finally, Akhenaten looked up at his first wife.  His eyes were a mixture of sadness and joy.  His voice was quiet and peaceful, but it was also firm enough to keep his eager wife quiet, By Aten, this may be His will, but it is not easy for me to accept.  Please, my love, allow me this moment to mourn my sister.  He then continued to gaze at his son.

And all was quiet for but a moment…

~~~~~~~~

Adornments on the walls were quickly created to honor the new son of the God Aten, future king of Kemet.  Bak, Father’s chief royal sculptor, was a prominent figure around the palace. By his hand, the carvings he had started of Henuttaneb were replastered. Instead, Nefertiti stood beside her husband with all of us girls in the new family wall carvings.  In a few of them, the new prince was held by his wet nurse, Maia, as Nefertiti stood over the family. 

Maia loved the new attention she received.  She would stand and stare at the reliefs with her image on them.  She would smile and say to the rapidly growing boy, Look, there we are.  Surely, God will never forget us. 

The women in Maia’s family had been with royal households for as far back as her lineage could be traced. Maia was a faithful servant for Nefertiti and served us girls tirelessly. We all loved her warm hugs and gentle pampering. We were allowed to be childlike around her and not princesses. We all had our own nurses, but Maia was always there at the palace. 

Maia was taller than most women, which I know she was self-conscious of.  She had large, round eyes with a pointed nose separating them.  Her lips were thin but almost always curved into a smile around us.  Her face was round and her cheeks full despite the fact that the rest of her was small-framed.  Her hair was a lighter shade than most citizens had.  Her skin was dark and her limbs strong from constantly holding one of us.  She was not shy about playing with us, and her knees and elbows were almost always scratched up. She had no fears of getting silly or dirty along with us. Our favorite game was Monkey, Monkey, Crocodile. Maia saved me a number of times from always being picked as the crocodile as I was the youngest sister playing.

But Maia never left the palace grounds. She had nowhere else to go as she had lost her own family shortly after my birth.  Many of the wet nurses had homes of their own outside the palace walls.  They would come to serve us to earn food and beer for their families.  Maia had a family once, but her husband died suddenly from a disease that swept through their neighborhood. It also took her two young daughters.  Her oldest son, attending school in Man-nefer, was spared. So Maia accompanied my family to Akhenaten even though we did not need a wet nurse (Tia had been named as mine). But mother asked her to come, and I think we helped to heal her.  She was given more palace responsibilities as well as her regular wet nurse duties to other families.

The death of Henuttaneb had been a crushing blow for her, but being named Tutankhaten’s wet nurse again gave her a purpose.  Tutankhaten was her full-time charge, and she loved him fiercely.  Again she had a child to care for and love.  And now her life would not be forgotten either. She was painted on palace walls and carved forever in stone. She was happier than I had ever seen her.  Her losses became less consuming.  Even when she was alone, her eyes were alight, which had been missing for many years beforehand. I think she finally felt peace with her life and with Aten.

The baby boy adored Maia in return.  They were often giggling together throughout the palace.  We girls also vied for the new baby’s attention.  Babies were the best entertainment we could ask for.  Usually Merytaten scolded us younger ones to be careful, to which Meketaten and I would reply with a roll of our eyes and shared snickers.  Soon enough, however, our sister was born from my mother’s womb, and she snagged the attention away from our brother.  She was born as Tutankhaten neared his first-year celebration. 

After Tutankhaten’s first-year banquet, my mother changed. The warmth of her love left our presence. Perhaps it was this change which started to tilt our family balance on its head. A great distance began to separate my parents after their fourth child came into our lives. Again, my mother delivered a girl. My new sister Nefernefruaten Tasherit was strong and healthy, but nevertheless she was another girl.

Even though Nefertiti acted kind and loving around Tutankhaten, she did everything she could to elevate Merytaten’s status, as Merytaten was her first daughter. In the ever-expanding wall carvings, we as Nefertiti’s daughters were always portrayed much larger and usually with the king and queen while little Tutankhaten was somewhere in back with Maia holding him.  My mother also adopted the name Neferneferuaten, meaning Most Beautiful One of Aten. 

Her new baby was named the same but with an added script, Tasherit, meaning the younger one. The name was certainly true for my mother, though, because I had never seen a more luminous woman.  Even as she grew into a fifth pregnancy, she only became more vivacious. How many women could claim five births? Soon my mother would. She also made more public appearances and was hailed as the most beautiful woman of the lands by her people.  Everyone outside the palace soaked her up like water on the hottest of days, every sinew screaming for a taste, each sip never enough to satisfy.  Busts were begun of her regal features and placed around the palace and temples for people to worship.  Small statues were made of both Pharaoh and Mother for people to pray to in their homes as well, but hers were in greater demand. All wanted a piece of her divine beauty.

No one seemed to notice that two mortals now took the place for a multitude of gods. 

I was only 4 when my husband was born, and I do not remember his infancy.  It wasn’t until we were older children that we began to form a bond.  All I remembered was the change in my mother’s eyes and in her love toward me and my sisters. Of course, being young, we did not yet feel the double crowns bearing down on all of our brows.  It seemed so clear that Merytaten would take that place. And Tutankhaten and I were so young… too young…

The Span of Earthly Things is as a Dream

1322 B.C.

In my private chambers, I finished the papyrus.  Setting aside the reed brush, I looked down at the foreign letters.  I took in a deep breath as I read over the finished product.  Being educated in the language from an early age, I could write in Hittite for myself. 

Noble King Suppiluliuma,

My husband has died. A son I have not, but to thee, they say, the sons are many.  If thou would give me one son of thine, he would become my husband.  Never shall I pick out a servant of mine and make him my husband.  I am afraid.

The King's Wife of Kemet

Releasing my breath, I saw that even though things were far from over, my feet had started down the path.  The letters were black, but the final sentence had a mixture of red used to highlight it. It needed to be more than just read, it needed to be felt.

The letter was quick and precise.  Hopefully the king would see the urgency of the situation and realize the potential for peace without further bloodshed.  Still, I wondered if I should add the riches the king would acquire with his blood line ruling over two lands. 

No, there was just no time to flower up the correspondence. It was persuasive and to the point, and it needed to get out tonight. 

The letters on the papyrus still smelled of beeswax from the ink mixture.  At one time, I had enjoyed sitting next to the scribes as they carefully mixed their colors and recorded the words of Pharaoh.  But now the inky sweetness did not calm my pounding heart as this secret meeting was finally coming to a head.  I looked up at my faithful nurse, Tia.  She had stood by me for as long as I could remember.

Tia looked as I always remembered her. Age barely lined her face. She had been my nurse since birth. She had small eyes and a petite nose. Her lips were thin and pink. Her face was defined by high cheekbones that curved upward at her ears making it look like her cheeks were actually lined with small plums. Her hair was long and almost always up and plaited. Her fingers could weave wondrously elaborate plaits. She was of average height and build, but to me, Tia was anything but average. To me, she was the most comforting person in the world. Her presence was always there, and she calmed my heart when I laid eyes on her. I always felt safe when she was near. How I hated the fact that I was about to send her away.

Roll this up with this signet on top. I said, handing Tia a parcel with my late husband’s signet ring and a second piece of writing, In this is the name of my fastest, most trusted rider. Show him the ring and tell him to bring this to the Hittite King, I said, getting up stiffly.  Though I did not carry my mother’s bodily grace and command, I could carry my vocal power. It was no wonder, though, with all the struggles these past years which had weighed heavily on me and Tutankhamun.

Pharaoh is coming home; the priests are preparing to begin the mummification process.  We must make haste!  And make sure Ay does not see you.  I then quickly left the room and scanned the candle-lit halls to make sure no one had overheard my plan.  To my eyes, all was clear.  My hopes rose just a little, and I silently prayed to Aten that things would work out. 

In the distance, the sun chariot was sinking into the Red Lands.  Darkness began to creep in all around me with its lean finger-like shapes crawling toward the palace, pressing down all light that dared to oppose it, and gliding over the sands with ease. As I looked to the horizon, I wondered when my husband’s body would arrive home for the process and what it would look like now.  I was scared thinking of that soon-to-be moment when I would first view the still, cold form of my beloved.  How different would his face look? It was a face I had grown up with and watched stretch into a tall, proud man.  How broken was his body now? 

In one day, my husband had died and unknowingly taken with him all the trust, security, and peace of the world around me.  Suddenly, I needed to watch my steps for fear of them being silenced in the ever-reaching darkness.  I had to search out servants and workers behind closed doors who had always been loyal to my family and even then only confide just enough information to help my cause but not give away the plan if caught.  I had to be manipulative, untrusting, and calculating. 

Suddenly, I felt like a stranger. 

This was not who I was.  It was so tiring.  I feared if this did not end soon, I would become this way permanently, to be conniving and slink around in the shelter of darkness to get my way. It was as if I could feel my heart tipping the scales and cursing my ka to the jaws of Ammit.

Things never used to be this way.  Of course, that was in a different world. A world pregnant with Aten’s light filling our souls and cleansing our thoughts.  Though publicly my husband and I had supported all the temples, my heart still belonged to Aten.  He had been a constant in my life.  He had warmed me when I was cold with fear.  How I missed His safe glow at this moment.  At night, the other gods and demons returned.  All were remembered again and brought back to the land of the living. The priests may have returned the gods to the land, but evil had followed on their heels too.

I could feel the beginnings of a head pain.  The throbbing seemed suddenly to swell behind my eyes and stop me in my tracks.  I knew that I had to lie down for fear of this becoming debilitating.  I should rest.

But I had no time for rest anymore.  I had to be strong now.  Once my beloved returned to this land, the process for his burial would begin.  Already, the artisans and priests were hastily preparing for his journey to the Afterlife.  It was all happening so quickly.  Once he arrived, I only had 70 days before an heir to the throne had to be named.  For this task, I would trust a foreign prince instead of the snakes that seemed to slither around the halls of the palace, slowly undulating toward me like the darkness encroaching on the city. They did not have my husband’s best interests at heart. They wanted to see my family permanently erased for all time.  Even my aging and withered grandfather, Ay, was no longer speaking to me.  He had been secretly meeting with the priests of Amun, the strongest rivals to my husband getting the crown in the first place. 

Once Tutankamun’s tomb was sealed, so too would my life end. 

I had to keep moving…

Chapter Two

Let Not The Heart Be Troubled

1340 B.C.

The afternoon was oppressed with heat, but we were immersed in the cool blanket of the Nile which hid our skin from the sun disc’s burning gaze. Meketaten and I swam around the royal barge as it took its occupants on a leisurely glide on the Great River. Our barge was surrounded by four other skiffs with soldiers watching the waters. They kept any curious crocodile or hippo away.

Most sailing vessels would have a section that was under canopy to shield the rider’s eyes from the sunlight. Father did not believe in hiding himself from his God above. He sat comfortably underneath the rays shining down from heaven. Father was sitting on the deck writing a song to Aten. He had wanted to find inspiration in a place where the sun occupied the entire space around him, filling his ka with Aten’s power and grace. He chose to go out into the river and watch as the water oscillated under Aten’s unflinching stare. Everywhere around us was glowing.

Meketaten and I were playing Water Snake. Currently, I was the chaser. Once I caught up to Meketaten, I would try to swim under the water and pull her down by her legs. Then I would be the one to try to keep my head above the surface for the longest. Unfortunately, being the smaller of us, Meketaten was hard to catch. I could hear her laughing at me.

You move slower than a fat cow engorged with milk! Come on, at least try to catch up!

I can’t help it I have an actual snake for a sister! I’m afraid of the snap of your jaws if I get too close. I retorted harshly. Five years old was not an age that took to teasing well.

Meketaten stopped and slapped the water’s surface at my face. Then she resumed laughing as I tried to clear my mouth and nose of it. My breath burned me as the water rushed down my throat.

Mom! Meket is trying to drown me! I whined.

Mom! An is being a baby! Mekeaten responded in kind, mimicking my tone.

Mother looked down at us from her seat. She was next to Father helping him compose his praises. Her glance was enough to tell us to stop it, her eyes shouting displeasure at us for interrupting them.

Wiping the water from my eyes again, I climbed up onto the deck of the flat barge. I laid down in the sun and let it dry me. Meketaten came up beside me. We rested there, naked with eyes closed, and let Aten’s touch warm us up again. We could hear Mother and Father talking quietly, the scribe scratching out words as they spoke. Occasionally a line would catch our ears with clarity though I preferred the beeswax scent floating about my nose.

‘Oh sole God, like Whom there is no other!

Thou did create the world according to Thy desire.’

I hope I become a Great Wife someday. Meketaten spoke up quietly next to me. I opened my eyes a slit to look at her. She had not moved. She looked peacefully asleep as if the wind had spoken instead of her.

I don’t. You never get to see your children, I replied.

Oh, of course you do.

Not like the other children in class do. Their mothers are with them every morning and every night. They even kiss them to sleep.

Now you are acting spoiled. As a princess, you must learn sacrifice.

That is easy for you to say. If you get bored with me, you can just go spend time with Merytaten. What is there to sacrifice when there is hardly anyone in your life? All I have is you and Tia.

You’ve always wanted all the attention, Meket said with a groan in her voice. You don’t have to fight for us, you know! Mother sacrifices her time from us for everyone else. And now I have to sacrifice my free time to listen to you complaining.

I could tell she was trying to be funny. Then next time, you should sacrifice your speed so I can win a game for once.

Meketaten snorted out a laugh. Sacrifice is only for the good of the people. Who cares about the good of the sister?

Have you been talking to Merytaten again? I asked. Merytaten had stayed home to watch over our baby sister. She enjoyed spending time with little ones. It’s the ones like me that she ignored, the ones who could talk back.

Merytaten is not so bad. She’s the oldest, so she has the most responsibility. But if I’m lucky, perhaps I can become a Great Wife after her. Did you know our grandfather took his own daughter as a wife?

I shivered at the thought. Father is not like that. If you’re going to marry someone, it would be baby brother. Unless you want to marry Father?

Ew, no! And brother? No. Merytaten will be Pharaoh someday. I heard Mother talking about it.

I sat up on my elbows and leaned over Meketaten, What are you speaking of?

I heard Mother talking to Merytaten that she will one day rule the lands as a pharaoh.

What does Father say? I asked tentatively.

Father is so busy writing poetry and worshiping in the temples, what does he care for anything else? He’s ignored us ever since Brother’s problems walking.

I lay back down on the deck feeling dizzy in my confusion about Merytaten being a king and why Meket was saying things about being a pharaoh’s wife. So then who will you marry? Surely you would not wait for a child of Merytaten’s?

Meketaten laughed softly. No. It’s just a wish is all. But wouldn’t it be wonderful to be the Great Wife? Everyone bowing to you? Everyone singing praises to you, worshipping you? Calling you beautiful beyond compare?

‘Thou suppliest their necessities:

Everyone has his food, and his time of life is reckoned.’

I responded flatly, Everyone depending on you too. What would you do if you ran out of food? How would you feed everyone? What if there was a plague? They’d blame you.

That is a question for my husband, the pharaoh. I will let you know when he has a free moment to address your petitions, she replied with a smile. Besides, Aten would not let our family starve or our people. We are His favored.

But if Aten supplies our every need, why work at all? He should just give it to us then.

"Ankhesenpaaten, now you are thinking like a baby. Aten gives us what we need, but we have to do a little work. Surely you cannot expect Him to hand-feed every person in the city? He gives us grain for our bread, but only the best bakers mix in the honey to make it a food worthy of Aten Himself."

So what… now we’re just ingredients?

"No, we are given the ingredients. We can make so many great things from Aten’s provisions. You just need a little creativity is all," Meketaten finished with a sigh.

You sound like Father, I whispered to myself.

‘Thou bringest forth as Thou desirest

To maintain the people.’

Perhaps I will be a priestess, I said, slightly on the defensive now. I could almost feel