The Egyptian rose

1341 BCE

Chapter 1

Ramla, the prophetess, had predicted a great change, but not even she could have expected this. From the moment King Akhenaten (born Amenhotep IV) became Pharaoh, Egypt was thrown into a world of chaos. With his beautiful wife, Nefertiti, by his side, a new Egypt arose. Some called him a poet, using his love for the spoken word to accomplish his feats; others called him nothing more than a tyrant, using his angry threats to carry out his demands. One thing was for certain though—Egypt was at a period of unrest and it was only a matter of time before something went wrong.

"Where is Meritaten?" Akhenaten asked his wife. He sat regally on the thrown, his voice echoing through the empty hall of the North Riverside Palace.

"Out in the gardens, my dear," Nefertiti replied in a much lower and more soothing tone.

"Well fetch her in. I wish to speak to her," he commanded.

"Is there a problem?" she asked, quickly growing concerned.

"She is our first born. It is time she learned a few things about our great empire," he waved off her concern with a childish grin.

"Sigh, very well. I'll go bring her in," she replied, reluctant to have her daughter deal with such matters at such a young age.

A few minutes later, Meritaten bounded into the great hall, bowed to her father and then approached him with a smile on her face. "You called for me, Father?"

"Meritaten, there has been a group of people that are causing disturbances in the southern district and I want you to personally go and handle the situation," he smiled his ever-charming Pharaoh smile.

"Me?"

"Yes, you! You are nearly twelve years old now. It's time you learned how our great empire is run!"

With a sudden squeal that Akhenaten did not expect, she jumped up and hugged her father. He then explained the situation to her in more detail, pointing out where she would find the crowd and sent her on her way. Meritaten had never met any of the other people that lived within the vast Egyptian empire, so this was not only a challenge but an adventure as well. She raced back to her bedchamber, had her servants bathe and dress her, and walked back out into the midday sun, noticing a slight change in the direction of the wind.

As she walked along the streets of the newly built city of Akhetaten, she tried to imagine what life was like for these people, including those she was ordered to stop. Meritaten had never known any other life than the one she was born into, so it was very exciting for her to see how other people lived, how they greeted her as she passed. On the city streets, she was politely bowed to and acknowledged by every person, giving her such a thrill to see that type of respect, when no one knew who she was. The only thing making her stand out was her royal attire, which was much more ornate than anything a merchant could have sold at the marketplace.

When she arrived at the tavern her father told her about—a place where farm-hand and merchant could sit and drink together—she had to step back, clearly unsure if this was the place she would find the answers she sought. Taking a breath, she pushed the door open and instantly everyone became silent and stared at her standing in the doorway. Innocently and without making eye contact with anyone, she walked gingerly across the room to the bar, where an old man stood drying a glass with a rag. When she stood there silent, he put the glass and rag down on the counter, bowed to her, and spoke quietly, while the rest of the room resumed their chatter, too low for her to hear.

"It is not everyday we have a visitor from the royal family here. Is there something of importance that you seek?" his voice trembled slightly.

Meritaten had to think before she blurted out the real reason she had come to the tavern and make herself look the fool. "I would like to speak to Khenti on behalf of my father, King Akhenaten," she spoke precisely and eloquently.

"You want to see Khenti?" the old man chuckled. "You want to see him?" he repeated, almost bursting with laughter.

"That is what I said," she tried desperately to sound older than she was, but she wasn't sure it was working.

"Very well," the old man sighed. "This way." He led her down a hallway to a backroom of the tavern. He knocked three times in succession on the door and then opened it without asking to come in. "This lady would like a word with you, Khenti."

Khenti, a broad-shouldered man, sat in a chair at a desk at one end of the room. He looked up thinking he was going to see a full-grown Egyptian woman but upon seeing the girl, he was sadly disappointed. Recognizing the crest of the royal family on her garments, he got up, came over to her, knelt before her, and kissed her hand. Meritaten quickly blushed but hoped he could not see in the dim light of the room. When he stood again, she noticed that the details on his face that she could discern reflected a young man, maybe no more than five years older than her!

"What can I do for you, great daughter of Pharaoh?" Khenti addressed her formally but in a mocking tone.

The old man excused himself and shut the door behind him. Meritaten watched him leave, then shuttered as the door closed and she turned her attention back to the man she had come here initially to talk to. He was smiling down at her, as if he already knew the answer to his question. This coupled with her unknown surroundings made it very difficult for her to speak to him in anything but a twelve-year-old voice.

"My father sent me here to speak to you about--" she stumbled over her words.

"I know what he wishes from us," he unruly interrupted her and waved her off. "Please send him my regards and tell him that I have no idea what he would like me to do about the situation he is referring to."

Meritaten was confused. Her father had specifically told her that she would find the leader of this group of rioters here at the tavern. She was told that these people were committing acts of treason against Pharaoh and against Egypt and they had to be stopped. And she had been sent to stop them. Now this boy was acting as if she was nothing more than a messenger and that he was also trying to stop them as well! Meritaten blinked at him, not fully satisfied with his reply.

"I'm sure the daughter of the Pharaoh has a name?" he asked her breaking the silence in the room.

"Meritaten," she replied shyly, forgetting her stature in the presence of this boy.

"Well, Meritaten, I wish the king nothing but great success in his quest on this matter. Unfortunately, I am unable to help and I'm afraid that this matter will not be stopped as easily as sending you here to fix it." Khenti put his arm around her shoulders and quickly ushered her to the door.

"Please tell me what you know!" she turned around abruptly, almost bumping into him.

"It can't be stopped. No matter how many daughters the king sees fit to send, it cannot be stopped." He still had a grip on her shoulder and his words were harsh but true.

Khenti let her go and she almost tripped over her own feet getting out the door. He smiled after her, watching her stumble out, knowing the king had sent a foolish girl to deal with a problem that was too large even for him to conquer. When she had gotten herself safely down the hallway and into the large tavern room, all eyes were on her again, causing her to solemnly bow her head and not look around her until she was safely out the door. Khenti had followed not far behind her but stopped when he reached the bar, where the old man had picked up his rag and began drying a glass once again.

"Everything alright, sir?" he asked Khenti as the latter leaned against the bar.

"Everything is fine," Khenti smiled. "Such a pity the great Pharaoh tried to send his daughter to stop us."

"What do we do now?"

"Lie in wait until Pharaoh realizes his own daughter has failed him. Once we know he's weak, we strike again!"

*  *  *  *  *

Meritaten hung her head low as she re-entered the great hall of the North Riverside Palace. She was confused and frustrated and could not understand why her initial plan to get the answers her father expected did not work. Afraid to disappoint her father, she approached the thrown with caution, and tried unsuccessfully to keep eye contact with his stern face. Her mother sat next to him, but even she could not give the girl solace.

"I couldn't do it!" Meritaten sighed, shaking her head in dismay and not making eye contact with either of her parents.

"You must go back then!" her father said sternly.

"Go back? But I've gotten none of the answers you wanted me to get! Going back means I have to face them all over again!" she protested.

"You are a daughter of the Pharaoh!" he bellowed. "Daughters of Egypt do not show fear!" He pounded his fist on the arm of his chair for emphasis of his words.

"What should I do?" Meritaten cried.

"Go back there and take care of the situation!" he glared at her.

"Dear, she's only a child," Nefertiti soothed next to him, lightly touching his arm to calm him. "We should just let her be a child for now and deal with this problem ourselves."

"I'm not a child!" Meritaten retorted, hurt that her mother did not think she was capable of handling this situation. "I just need more time!"

"I will give you three days more," her father offered her. "But after the third day, if this matter is not resolved by your own volition, we will take this matter out of your hands!"

"Three days?" she questioned, looking up at him nervously, not sure it would be enough time.

"Three days!" he repeated.

*  *  *  *  *

Khenti did not sleep well that night—thoughts and images flooding his mind. Isis and Osiris both spoke to him through his dreams about a great revolution. The Pharaoh of Egypt would be overthrown by a force more powerful than the king himself, but it would not be Khenti or his fellow men that would bring him to his knees. This annoyed him but also gave him hope that better days were to come.

When he woke in a fit of anger, a plan of action was already forming in his head. This time he felt the gods were on his side and they had finally answered his prayers. Jumping out of bed, he quickly washed his face and hands in the basin of lukewarm water beside his bed left there by the innkeeper. He was so grateful to be allowed to stay longer than usual but only as long as he kept his comings and goings private and they did not interfere with the general business of the tavern.

The door to his room opened and the old man entered with a tray of food. He quietly placed the tray on Khenti's desk and left the room without acknowledging Khenti at all. Compared to most people he knew, he was living like a king and could not complain about this living situation. His meals were delivered to him unless he chose to join the others in the tavern; his work was done in the privacy of his own room and rallies were conducted behind the tavern building; and never was he alone because the company of a beautiful Egyptian woman was never far away.

After washing his face and hands, he sat himself down at his desk and ate the meal that was provided for him. His thoughts soon drifted back to the king's daughter, although he had already forgotten her name. As young as she was, there was something about the determination in her eyes that he had seen the day before that kept him thinking she'd be more suited as an ally than an enemy. One more bite of food and he pushed his plate away, contemplating how he could possibly get her to come back so that he could convince her of her father's evil ways. He did not have to wait long—a triple knock at his door extinguished his thoughts.

"Come in!" he bellowed, loud enough so that whoever was on the other side of the heavy door could hear.

He was shocked to see the girl standing in the doorway after she pushed it open, staring at him as if expecting him to welcome her back. Of course she would know the code to knock because she had seen the old man do it only the day before! How very clever of you, daughter of the Pharaoh, his mind screamed. Meritaten stood in front of the door as it slammed shut behind her, unable to move as Khenti crossed the threshold of the room and stood in front of her. Looking up at him through innocent eyes, she could not find any words to speak, so it was he who spoke first.

"Your determination intrigues me," he mused.

"Why did you lie to me yesterday?" she demanded, finding her voice and not batting an eye as she stared him down.

"Why would I lie to the king's daughter?" he answered her with his own question, challenging her stare and not moving away.

"If you did not lie to me then you call the king a liar! Treachery such as this is punishable by death!" she declared, satisfied with her reply.

"Death is only a small price to pay for glory in the afterlife! Besides, the king should know that change is upon him and he can't stop us from getting what we want!"

His words were very cryptic but Meritaten could tell that her father only lightly touched the surface of the problem at hand. "You sound as if you are willing to fight the king himself in order to have your so-called glory! Such an outburst would surely bring you the death you seek!" she challenged.

"Neither you nor your father will ever understand what has begun!"

"Tell me then what has begun so that I may stop it!"

"You would never be able to handle the truth!" he glared at her, causing her to drop her eyes to the ground.

"Tell me the truth," she whispered, unable to find her voice.

Khenti smiled down at her, knowing he had gotten what he wanted. The daughter of the great Pharaoh of Egypt stood there cowering at him as he challenged her with truths. Obviously her father had told her only about their small waves of riots and demonstrations. He wondered whether she actually knew why they did what they had done. "Come with me and I will show you your truths." Without giving her a chance to protest, he grabbed her wrist and led her out of the room.
 

 

continue to chapter 2