‘Once,’ Akhenaten murmured, staring down at the shells I held in my hand, ‘the Great Green covered this land until my Father drove it back to its boundaries.’
I squinted up. Akhenaten was gazing hungrily at the cleft between the two crags.
‘Once my Father walked here in the cool of the evening, enjoying its lush greens, rejoicing in the company of the Sons of Men — that was his delight.’ He blinked and squatted down beside me, eyes bright with excitement. ‘That was in the Dazzling Time, Mahu, when the Sons of Men walked with God and all was harmony, before the Thief of the Underworld made his presence felt. Can’t you feel them, Mahu, the ghosts of the Dazzling Ones all about us? The breeze carries their faded words and hymns.’
He tapped the soil. ‘The roots still lie here, embedded deep. The desert will bloom and the jonquil flourish amongst the rocks. Once our vision is realised, my Father will, once again, walk amongst men.’
I stared disbelievingly at him, but he never noticed my mood.
I knew nothing about his strange theology. Even when I reflected on what Tiye had told me, what did it amount to? The worship of an Unseen God who manifested his power in the symbol of the Sun Disc? Akhenaten plucked up some sand, pebbles and shells, letting them fall through his fingers. He rose and, with Nefertiti beside him, walked further inland. The shouts from the war-barge carried ashore. Akhenaten abruptly turned and went striding back, his walking cane rapping on the ground, robes fluttering about him, long arms gesticulating.
‘Go back!’ he shouted. ‘Stay on board! Do not pollute this holy ground for my Father has blessed me. He has blessed me and will bless me again.’ He climbed onto a boulder, his body ungainly-looking against the darkening sky, face bathed in the light of the setting sun.
‘Go away,’ he repeated. ‘Do not trespass on holy ground.’
Ay went down to the riverside and repeated the orders not to land, his voice carrying like a herald across the water. The consternation on the war-barge was audible but Ay was insistent. Only a few servants from the Dazzling Aten came ashore. They erected pavilions and tents, gathered brushwood and lit a fire, bringing supplies of meat, wine and bread. The sun set and the plain darkened, broken only by the light from our campfire. Akhenaten sat, arms linked with Nefertiti, eyes half-closed as if drinking in the very smell, taste and sounds of this place. They retired early. Ay and myself shared a smaller pavilion. I lay listening to Akhenaten and Nefertiti singing, followed by the clink of cups and the sound of their lovemaking before I drifted into sleep.
Akhenaten woke us long before dawn. I felt cold. Outside the air was chilly. Only a faint burst of light beyond the mountain range showed day was imminent. Akhenaten acted like an excited child, pacing up and down as Ay and Nefertiti laid out blankets and cushions. At last Akhenaten knelt down, Ay and Nefertiti on his left and right. I crouched on my cushion. Nefertiti rose, returned to her pavilion and brought out three glowing bowls of incense. She placed one in front of Ay, Akhenaten and herself. The incense smelt bittersweet in the morning air. The glow in the East strengthened as if a ball of fire was about to surface behind the dark mass of the mountains. A bird flew overhead, its song piercing the freezing air. The land fell silent. Stars disappeared and the Sun Disc appeared directly between the two peaks at the centre of the cleft; rising with all the majesty of dawn, shattering the darkness, lighting the mountains, its rays spreading over the plain as if hungry to reach the river. Akhenaten moaned in ecstasy, head going backwards and forwards. He intoned:
Akhenaten’s voice thrilled stronger and stronger like a trumpet blast shattering the silence, heard even by our companions on the barges.
‘I shall do a beautiful thing for you!’ Akhenaten continued.
Akhenaten bowed, followed by Nefertiti and Ay, pressing their heads against the ground. The Sun Disc broke free, clear of the mountains, and rose against the sky, transforming the earth and the air in a blaze of light and glory. Then Akhenaten stood, a beatific smile on his face.
‘Go down to the waterside, Mahu,’ he urged. ‘Tell the others they can now come ashore.’
I did so. The crew of the Dazzling Aten, followed by Horemheb, Rameses and their soldiers clambered ashore. My two companions were angry but their anger was tinged with a sharp curiosity. They had witnessed the drama of the sunrise and bothered me with questions. Why was this place sacred?
‘I don’t know,’ I told them.
‘Are you sure?’ Rameses persisted. ‘There must be few places in the Eastern Desert where the sun rises so dramatically.’
I shook my head and walked away.
‘They are curious, aren’t they?’ Ay came up, still hunched against the cold, a shawl across his shoulders.
‘Never mind them,’ I snapped. ‘I’m curious.’
‘This is a sacred place.’ Ay stared at me from under heavy-lidded eyes.
‘I know that. I’m not a child — the sunrise is most dramatic.’
‘When our people first came to Egypt,’ Ay stroked his reddish hair, ‘they assembled here and built their altars to the Unseen God.’
‘Why here?’
‘Because, according to legend, this was once the dazzling garden, the place where God and Man met.’
‘And now it’s just a desert,’ I replied.
‘Look for yourself, Mahu.’
I did so, wandering across the plain, and soon realised that its aridity was only superficial. In clefts and gullies, I discovered underground water streams and untapped wells, their presence only visible in the quickly drying water as the day progressed. Behind me servants were carrying up stores and setting up tents. Hunters were sent out to bring fresh meat; two of these returned at a run shouting and waving their arms.
Horemheb was sitting by the campfire deep in conversation with the two dwarves. Rameses was testing water from one of the barrels. Akhenaten and Nefertiti had withdrawn to their pavilion. Ay was aboard the Dazzling Aten. The way the hunters hastened towards us proclaimed that something extraordinary had happened. If it was an attack by Desert Wanderers and Sand Dwellers they would have raised the alarm. These two stopped, fighting for breath, bodies drenched in sweat.