“The sunlight of Aten does not discriminate between people when it shines down upon us.”
“You must not forget that life is a battleground.”
“Master,” he replied sadly, “do not speak to me of war. Have you not seen the sun when it rises above the fields and the Nile? Have you not seen the horizon when the sun goes down? Have you heard the nightingale sing, or the doves coo? Have you never felt the sacred happiness buried deep in your heart?”
I knew that there was nothing I could do. He was like a tree and I could not stop him from growing. I conveyed my fears to the queen, but she did not share my concerns.
“He is still an innocent child, Ay,” she said. “He will learn more of this life as he grows. Soon he will begin his military training.”
The pious young prince started his military training along with the sons of the nobles. He detested it, possibly because of his physical weakness. Soon he rejected the training, thus admitting a failure not befitting a king's son.
“I do not wish to learn the fundamentals of murder,” he said bitterly.
The king was saddened by his son's decision. “A king who cannot fight is at the mercy of his commanders,” he said.
The crown prince and the king had several confrontations. Most likely, this strife was the seed of the malice the boy harbored against his great father. I do believe, however, that the priests of Amun stretched this fact when they accused him of avenging himself by erasing his father's name from all the monuments. He only wanted to eradicate the name of Amun. He even changed his own name from Amenhotep to Akhenaten for the same purpose. Then came the night that condemned him to a life of seclusion. He had been waiting for the sunrise in the dark royal garden by the bank of the Nile. I learned all the details when I met him in the morning. I believe it was spring time. The air was clear of all dew and dust. When I greeted him, he turned to me with a pale face and mesmerized eyes.
“Master, the truth has been revealed to me,” he said without returning my greeting. “I came here before sunrise. The night was my companion, its silence my blessing. As I bid darkness farewell, I felt that I was rising with the air around me. It was as though I was retreating with the night. Then there was a marvelous light, and I saw all the creatures that I had seen or even heard of gather before my eyes and greet each other in delight. I had overcome pain and death, I thought. I was intoxicated with the sweet scent of creation. I heard his clear voice speaking to me: ‘I am the One and Only God; there is no God but I. I am the truth. Dwell in my kingdom, and worship me only. Give me yourself; I have granted you my divine love.’”
We stared at each other for a long while. I was overcome by despair and could not speak.
“Do you not believe me, Master?”
“You never lie,” I replied.
“Then you must believe me,” he said in ecstasy.
“What did you see?”
“I only heard his voice in the merry dawn.”
“My son,” I hesitated, “if you saw nothing, that means there was nothing.”
“This is how he reveals himself,” he replied firmly.
“Perhaps it was Aten.”
“No. Not Aten, not the sun. He is above and beyond that. He is the One and Only God.”
I was mystified. “Where do you worship him?”
“Anywhere, anytime. He will give me the strength and love to worship him.”
Ay was silent. I wanted to ask him if he believed in Akhenaten's god, but I remembered my father's advice and remained silent. Ay, along with many others, had left Akhenaten when things were at their worst. Perhaps he had been forced to deny his faith for the rest of his life.
I had to tell the king and queen. A few days later, I found the crown prince waiting for me in his favorite part of the garden.
“You reported me as usual, Master,” he smiled reproachfully.
“It is my duty,” I replied calmly.
He laughed and said, “The confrontation with my father was rather interesting. When I recounted my experience to him, he grimaced and said, ‘You must be examined by Bento, the physician.’ I replied politely that I was in good health. ‘I have yet to see a madman confess to insanity,’ he said. Then he continued, this time in a threatening tone, ‘The deities are the foundations of Egypt. The king must believe in all the deities of his people. This god that you spoke of is nothing. He does not deserve to join our deities.’ I told him that he was the Only God; that there is no other god. ‘This is heresy and madness,’ he cried. I repeated that he was the One and Only God. He became extremely angry and said, ‘I command you to renounce these absurd ideas, and to honor the heritage of your ancestors.’ I did not say any more so as not to show him disrespect. Then my mother said, ‘All we ask of you is to honor and respect a holy duty. Let your heart love what your heart wishes to love, until you return to the right path. Meanwhile, do not neglect your duty.’ I left them feeling sad, but more determined.”
“My dear Prince,” I said earnestly, “the pharaoh is a product of ancient and holy traditions. Do not ever forget that.”
From that moment, I was sure that there were troubles ahead such as Egypt had never seen or imagined before. The great family of pharaohs that had liberated the country and created an empire was now standing at the edge of an abyss. Around that time-perhaps it was earlier, I am not quite certain of the chronology-I was summoned to a closed meeting by the high priest of Amun.
“You and I have known each other for a very long time, Ay,” he said. “What is all this that I hear?”
As I say, I do not recall whether this meeting took place after it became known that the prince was inclined toward Aten, or after he declared his faith in the One and Only God. In any event, I replied, “The prince is a fine, sensible young man. Only, he is still too young. At such a sensitive age, one tends to follow one's imagination indiscriminately. He will soon mature and return to the right path.”
“How could he renounce the wisdom of the best teacher in the country?”
“How can one control the flow of a river during the flood season?” I said in an effort to defend myself.
“Our duty, as the elite of this country, is to put our religion and empire first.”
I had endless discussions with my wife, Tey, and my daughters, Nefertiti and Mutnedjmet, trying to make sense of the confusion that rattled in my mind day and night. Tey and Mutnedjmet accused the prince of heresy. Nefertiti, on the other hand, had no qualms about supporting him. Indeed she liked his ideas. “He speaks the truth, Father,” she whispered. Nefertiti was about the same age as Akhenaten and, like the prince, had matured beyond her years. Both girls had completed their basic education and home-making training. Mutnedjmet was good at writing and recitation, algebra, embroidery, sewing, cooking, painting, and ritual dance. Nefertiti excelled in the same subjects, but was not content with them. She developed a strong interest in theology and logic. I noticed her fondness for Aten, and later, when she declared her faith in the One God, I was aghast. “He is the only god able to rescue me from the torture of confusion,” she announced.
Tey and Mutnedjmet were furious, and accused her of apostasy.
At that time, we were invited to the pharaoh's palace to celebrate thirty years of his reign. It was the first time our daughters had entered the palace, and by a stroke of fate, Nefertiti won the love of the crown prince. Everything happened so quickly thereafter. We could still hardly believe it, when Nefertiti and Akhenaten became husband and wife. I was summoned once more by the high priest of Amun. This time, as I stood before him, I felt that he regarded me as a potential enemy.
“You have become a member of the royalty, Ay.” His voice was filled with apprehension.
“I am but a man who has never strayed from the course of duty.”