Aten! Aten! Aten! At first everything was centred around this, with only slight changes in the rhythm. Akhenaten, escorted by Nefertiti, would summon meetings of the Royal Circle to lecture us about the new religion, our duties to him and the Aten, our obligations to accept it in all its ways. Huy quietly grumbled how he would love to go and preach about the Aten somewhere, anywhere, as far away as possible. The theme was constant: ‘You should be grateful to Akhenaten for revealing to you the light.’ We were to thank him for what he had done, rejoice in his presence, be ecstatic over his gifts, as well as realise that the Aten would only hear our prayers if they were directed through himself and his glorious Queen.
Matters were not helped by what I dubbed ‘the toadies’, the courtiers and officials who now surrounded Akhenaten. They did not include the children of the Kap except for Meryre: he was made High Priest of the Aten when Akhenaten gave up that office, moving from the role of priest to that of He whom the priests should venerate. The ranks of these toadies were swollen as more of the Akhmin gang arrived. Ahmose, fat and slimy, reeking of perfume, who rejoiced in the titles of True Royal Scribe, Fan-bearer on the Right of the King, Steward in the House of Akhenaten, Overseer of the Court of Justice. A viper of a man, Ahmose had a heart of stone and a nose sharp for his own preferment. Tutu from the House of Secrets became Ahmose’s good friend — a disappointment to me but he was seduced by the exclusivity of Akhenaten’s immediate circle and, of course, he also came from Akhmin. Another was Rahimose, Chief Scribe of Recruits, Ay’s nominee from his own town to counter-balance the growing military power of Horemheb. These and others formed what I called ‘the Devout’ or, in private, ‘the Toadies’. The others, including myself, I called ‘the Cynics’: Horemheb and Rameses, Pentju, Huy and Maya. They grew bored with the constant childish excitement of the parades and ceremonies, the offerings and rewards. Horemheb and Rameses used their military duties to escape into the Red Lands. Huy often went on embassies and would return more woebegone than ever at Akhenaten’s attitude to Egypt’s foreign policy.
‘It’s quite simple to understand,’ Huy declared on one occasion. ‘All people should worship the Aten and all people should accept our Pharaoh as the Aten incarnate. Any problems are not his responsibility. He thinks the Mitanni, the Canaanites, the Libyans and Kushites should love him for what he is and not for the gold and silver they expect to receive from him.’
The others were equally cynical. Pentju, in particular, would often use the excuse of tending to a patient or searching for some new cure to avoid official functions. Maya found some comfort in his new duties as Overseer of the House of Silver, proving to be a brilliant financier and treasurer — ‘Able,’ as Rameses remarked sourly, ‘to squeeze gold out of a rock.’ Maya often had to travel to Thebes; he would use such occasions to meet Sobeck. At least his return brought a welcome relief as he reported the chatter and gossip from that stunned, dying city. He told us about its temples, the subdued life in the markets and the growing resentment of its populace at what they now openly called the Great Heresy.
Ay was the bridge between all groups. Akhenaten’s faithful minister, the confidant and ally of everyone who mattered. A watcher and scrutiniser of hearts was Ay, yet even here I sensed a subdued panic. We had all been brought to this place — but what next? Ay expended his energies on strengthening his ties with the men of influence in the city of Aten and elsewhere, particularly Horemheb whose military skill and organisation he came to admire. Mutnodjmet, Ay’s second daughter, Nefertiti’s comely, fat-faced, calm-eyed sister, arrived in the city with her Danga dwarves. Horemheb fell in love with her only as Horemheb could: stiff-necked, tight-jawed, stuttering and embarrassed. Yet he truly loved her. I used to tease him, tapping him on the chest and saying, ‘At last I have discovered that you have a true heart and not one of flint.’ Horemheb would splutter with annoyance, he’d even blush. This was one problem Rameses was unable to help him with so I had constantly to advise Horemheb on what presents to buy and how he should act. Ay encouraged all this. Mutnodjmet was not indolent but she had been kept in the shadows by her beautiful elder sister. At first she was very confused by Horemheb. Eventually, with a little coaxing from both her father and myself, she responded sweetly to the great soldier’s overtures. Rameses, too, encouraged that match and eventually they married. Maya tartly commented that he didn’t know whom Horemheb loved the most, Mutnodjmet or her dwarves.
Shortly after this, news arrived that the Magnificent One had died. Living in the twilight, he had gone quietly into the West. Queen Tiye buried him in glorious splendour in a majestic tomb prepared for him in the Valley of the Kings, protected by the great Colossi of the King. These gleaming red quartzite statues were built to last for ever, glowering over an empire he had created, ‘And,’ Rameses whispered, ‘which his son was about to lose.’
I always wondered if Queen Tiye had helped her husband over the Far Horizon. She certainly struck quick at the cause of her discontent, Princess Sitamun being promptly banished to some distant estate to live out her life in silent obscurity. Akhenaten and his court observed the seventy days of mourning. Certain monuments and inscriptions were erected to his father but these were more as an afterthought, acts of filial piety to his grey-haired, widowed mother. Queen Tiye became a constant visitor to her son’s new city, a small sunshade palace being built and placed at her disposal. She was still courteous and affable to me but more concerned that I protect her son. She no longer had to watch me; Djarka did that for her. Queen Tiye treated me as she would a good knife, ensuring the point and blade still remained sharp and strong. Nefertiti she avoided, being more concerned to talk to Ay. They would often meet in the Hall of Audience near the Records Office, going through documents, talking far into the night over the growing problems from the distant far-flung provinces to the empire.
Afterwards Ay would visit me to break bread and drink some wine. He had been given the title of Chief of Royal Archers and would use such occasions to check the barracks and storerooms. He was amused at how I kept a small armoury in a chamber on the second floor of my own house. I bluntly informed him that I had not forgotten the Jackals or that bloody battle in the Valley of the Shadows. Ay would nod and, without fail, would ask the same question, probing to find out what I and others of the Kap, as he called us, thought of the present situation. I would snap back that I wasn’t a spy and ask him what the future held. He muttered about similar cities being founded in Canaan and Nubia, of arranging eternal treaties of peace with other kings and states. Ay was deeply worried; he had good reason to be.
Akhenaten and Nefertiti, together with their children, were now becoming not just the centre of the new cult but the cult itself. In the northern and southern section of the eastern cliffs, on either side of Akhenaten’s planned tomb, we founded our own Necropolis. You can go and look at these, they are still there; most are half-finished. I chose one in the southern cliffs, an underground cavern to fool the grave-robbers. Go into mine and have a good look. The paintings are not much and the prayers to the Aten are all wrong — that was my way of kicking against the goad. Go into the rest and study the paintings and inscriptions. Akhenaten had outlawed the Osirian rite. There were to be no ceremonies of Opening the Mouth, preparing for the Journey through the Underworld where your soul was weighed on the scales of Thoth and received the judgement of Osiris. Oh no, Akhenaten changed all that! He made it much simpler. All you had to do was die with Pharaoh’s smile directed towards you (which, of course, you couldn’t see because you had your head down and your arse up) and everything would be fine. The Necropolis of the Sun Disc proved this. Every single tomb depicted Akhenaten and Nefertiti, together with their family, giving presents, being blessed by the Aten, riding out together under the Aten, eating under the Aten, playing, drinking, sleeping and kissing under the Aten.