“What would you do should something arise that relieves you of your duty to the king?”
“I am a member of his family. I would never abandon him.”
“I am grateful, Ay,” the Great Queen sighed in relief. “The situation is rather dangerous. Do you think the others have such strong faith in him as well?”
I thought for a while then replied, “I can assure you that some of them, at least, are beyond doubt.”
“I am particularly curious to hear what you have to say about Haremhab.” She seemed apprehensive.
“He is faithful in his duties as chief of security, and has been a friend of the king since they were young lads,” I replied without hesitation.
“It is him who worries me the most.”
“Perhaps because of the great power at his command. In truth, however, he is as loyal to the king as Meri-Ra.”
Like the rest of us, Tiye failed to sway the king from his position. Eventually, she packed her disappointment and returned to Thebes. There, her health deteriorated quickly and she passed away, leaving behind the tales of her wonderful life.
Resentment escalated in the empire and all the provinces now turned against the king. We became imprisoned in Akhetaten with our One and Only God. We were all aware of the impending disaster. Except Akhenaten, who was still hopeful. “My God will never forsake me,” he insisted.
Unbeknown to anyone, the high priest of Amun entered Akhetaten. When I learned that he was in the city, I was one of the first to visit him. I was surprised to find him disguised in the garb of a merchant.
“You wish to conceal your identity? Why, you know that the king brings no harm upon anyone.”
He ignored my question and commanded, “Gather all the king's men and bring them to me.”
We met with him in the garden of the palace of the late Queen Tiye. He asked us to collaborate with him to avoid bloodshed. He seemed to be speaking to us from a position of power. He talked at length about the wrath of the gods and the fate of the empire. Then he delivered us a severe warning and left. We felt as though a snake had just brushed by our feet. I did not know how to interpret his actions; I had never trusted him in the first place. I suspected, however, that the high priest did not trust the troops in the provinces to be on his side either. He was afraid, I concluded, of a nationwide conflict that would end either in his destruction or, at best, in a very costly victory. The threat he faced was no less than that looming over Akhetaten. Nonetheless, if a civil war broke out, all of Egypt would pay the price. When the high priest left, we stayed behind to discuss the situation, hoping to come to a decision.
At that point I had to interrupt him. “Which of the king's men were present at that meeting?” He squinted, mulling over my question for a while, then continued.
I do not recall precisely. It has been a very long time. I do remember, however, that Haremhab and Nakht were there. In any case, Haremhab was the first to speak.
“I am the king's friend and chief of security,” he said. He gazed at us with his honey-colored eyes for a while then continued in a calm, determined tone. “But I believe a settlement is inevitable in this situation.”
None of us protested. We requested a council convention with the king.
We stood before the pharaoh and the queen, saluting the throne and the empire. Akhenaten smiled serenely. Contrary to her usual bright demeanor, Nefertiti was cold and apprehensive. When the formalities were concluded, Akhenaten said, “I see troubled faces before me.”
“My gracious King,” Haremhab started, “we are gathered here for the love of Egypt.”
“Everything I do is for the love of Egypt and the entire world,” he replied.
“The country is on the verge of an uncontrollable war. We must do something quickly to save it, before it is completely destroyed,” Haremhab continued.
“What do you recommend?” the king asked.
“Grant the people freedom of worship, and send the army to defend the borders of the empire.”
The king shook his head, adorned with the crown of the Two Lands, and said, “That would mean a return to the darkness of heathen ways. I have no right to issue any decrees unless the Creator commands me.”
“Your Imperial Grace,” Haremhab continued, “you have every right to keep your faith, but you must then renounce the throne.”
“Never will I commit such treachery against my worshiped God. I will not forsake his throne.” His eyes gleamed like rays of the sun. Then he shifted his gaze to me and I felt as though I had been thrown into the netherworld.
“It is the only way to protect you and your faith,” I said.
“Go in peace,” he said sadly.
“You have some time to reflect on our proposition.”
As we left the grand hall of the throne, I felt as though needles were pricking my heart, mercilessly. That feeling has never left me to this very day.
Grave events followed our confrontation with the king. Nefertiti left the royal palace and moved to her private palace in northern Akhetaten. I visited her, not sure of her intentions. “I shall not leave my palace until death takes me.” She refused to say more. Akhenaten declared his brother Smenkhkare co-ruler on the throne of the empire. The priests denied Smenkhkare and Akhenaten the throne, and entrusted it to Tutankhamun. There was no choice but to yield or to face war. At the end of the period we gave Akhenaten to consider our counsel, Haremhab visited the palace.
“I will not betray my Creator, nor will He forsake me. I will remain firm in my position even if everyone else leaves,” said the pharaoh.
“My King,” Haremhab said, “we ask your permission to leave Akhetaten and return to Thebes so that the country may be reunified. Not one of us wishes to leave your city, but we must if Egypt is to be spared destruction. I will see to it that you are never harmed.”
“Do as you please.” Akhenaten was determined, even enthusiastic. “I am in no need of anyone's protection.
God is on my side and he shall not forsake me.”
We carried out our orders and left Akhetaten weighed down with sadness. Soon after, the citizens did likewise, until there was no one left but Akhenaten in his palace, Nefertiti in hers, and a few guards and slaves. Akhenaten, who had never been sick since childhood, fell ill and died alone. I learned that even in the throes of death, he prayed to his god:
You create the germ of life
Ay was silent. When he recovered from the memories that overwhelmed him, he turned toward me, his eyes filled with compassion, and said, “This is the story of Akhenaten, the pharaoh whose only name today is the heretic. I cannot deny the woes he brought upon the country. Egypt lost its empire and was torn by conflict. But I must admit I cannot rid my heart of his love, nor can I stop admiring him. Let the final word be that of Osiris, the ruler of eternal life, before whom we shall all stand to be judged.”
As I left the palace of the sage, it occurred to me that the final word on Ay will not be pronounced until he, too, stands before Osiris.
Haremhab
Haremhab was well built, moderately tall, with a strong, trustworthy demeanor. He was a descendant of an old religious family from Memphis, a family that had produced renowned physicians, priests, and army officials. Haremhab's father was the first in his family to be elevated to the ruling class when he was appointed chief of horsemen during the life of Amenhotep III. Haremhab was the only one of Akhenaten's men who kept his position as chief of security in the new era. His main duty at that time was to eradicate the corruption that had spread in the country and to restore peace. He was so successful that in the critical period of transition from Akhenaten's rule, Haremhab was regarded as a hero. The high priest of Amun gave him a glowing testimony, and Ay, the sage, confirmed it. He received me in the visitors' hall by the palace garden.