The Egyptian rose
1341 BCE
Chapter 3
Kamenwati sat in a chair opposite Khenti, a position he had grown
used to over the last few months being second in command, with a large
piece of paper on the desk between them. They were discussing plans for
another rally and possibly a low-key demonstration but Khenti seemed a
bit more preoccupied than Kamenwati would have liked. He was trying to
come up with ideas for a full-on attack of one of the palaces (since
there were three now in the new city), yet Khenti kept reverting back to
the less aggressive, almost passive attempts at getting the king’s
attention. The boy’s mind started to wander and Kamenwati needed him to
pay more attention to the details being discussed.
"Khenti, are you paying attention at all?"
"What? Oh, yeah, what were you saying?" Khenti replied, shaking himself
out of his daydream stupor.
"Listen up boy! We need to strike, and soon! That daughter of the
Pharaoh you seem to have befriended would make for an excellent
bargaining chip and I think we need to stick to the original plan!"
Kamenwati reasoned.
"We could do that, but how do you suggest we get her out of the palace,
once we figure out which one she’s in? They’re way too heavily guarded
and we’d never get in without being killed! It was way too easy the last
time because she found us!" Khenti replied, regaining his focused
thoughts.
"Hmm," Kamenwati stroked his beard in deep thought. "What if we took her
at the marketplace? There are always so many people there that no one
will notice a little girl has gone missing! They’ll think she’s just run
off somewhere!"
"We could do that," Khenti pondered his friend’s idea. "But again, she’s
not likely to be out in the marketplace, especially by herself. It was
her father who specifically ordered her to come find us, so every
officer in the city knew where she was going and why. This time if we
turn the tables on them, they’ll know right away it was us," Khenti shot
down the idea yet again.
"Well, I’m out of ideas," Kamenwati sighed and leaned back in the chair,
resting his hands behind his head.
"I’m sure we can lure her out, maybe get word to her about our next
rally—"
"Definitely not! Khenti, you saw her reaction when we spoke about the
king! Her eyes had daggers! If she challenged us during one of our own
rallies, there’s no telling what the people would do! Her father has
sent her to dispose of us yet the people are so riled up they are
capable of disposing of the young girl themselves!" Kamenwati argued
profusely.
"All the more reason to keep her with us! She can make for a very useful
ally!"
"And how do you know she won’t play us for fools and give her father all
the information he needs to arrest each and every one of us? How do you
know she isn’t capable of reasoning between her father, a man who has
provided everything for her her whole life, and a group of misfit farm
workers who are angry at the king’s laws?!"
"Oh, I highly doubt she’d be capable of playing both side of this coin
without at least one side getting the better of her," he smiled in
return, knowing that Ramla had done her job.
* * * * *
Meritaten ate very little that morning. When her father entered the hall, after everyone had been seated, she quietly excused herself, not wanting to give away what she already knew. After her encounter with Ramla the previous evening in the gardens, she could not bear to look in her father’s eyes and tell him everything she knew. When Akhenaten looked sternly at his wife, she simply shrugged her shoulders in reply – even she had no idea what was wrong with their daughter. Meritaten was accumulating too many secrets, on both sides of the situation, and she knew that facing the king would bring them all out, including her growing hatred.She ran out into the gardens, the same place she was the night before, but this time nothing stopped her from running. The only thing that mattered to her at that moment was making sure her father never found out what she knew. She needed to stay as far away from him as possible because there was no telling what he would do to these people if he truly knew how infuriated they were with him. If Ramla was right, if what Khenti had shown her by taking her to one of their rallies was real, then her father was not the man she thought he was. Tears began to stream down her cheeks as she tried to envision her father as the tyrant they had called him time and again, but the tears did not stop her from running as far away as she could.
She followed a cut path in the grass along the banks of the river Nile, its surface gleaming in the morning sun. When she finally stopped to catch her breath, knowing she a was safe enough distance away from the palace that no one would have followed her, she flopped her body down onto the grass and cried – hard, exhausting tears. All twelve years of her life, she had believed everything her father had said to her and yet now she knew he had lied and kept such horrible secrets, possibly from her mother as well. These people, that she had just met, had claimed that the Great Pharaoh of Egypt had destroyed their homes, their temples, and their hopes for an afterlife. And yet, in her home, she never knew of any of these things. Her father had spoken to her about a group of rioters causing problems in the southern province of the city and that they needed to be stopped. He had lied to her, kept the truth from her, about everything, even why they were upset with him!
After her crying had lessoned but she continued to whimper, she looked up at the sky and squinted into the sun. "Why does it have to be this way, Aten? Why?" she called out to the new sun god.
"Your sun god can’t help you if you do not believe in all the others!" a voice answered from behind her. She quickly turned her head to see who had snuck up behind her and who had interrupted her prayer.
"Khenti!" she exclaimed, wiping her eyes with the back her hand and standing up.
"Surprised?" he smiled down at her.
"I just didn’t expect anyone to have followed me," she replied, dropping her eyes to the ground.
"Is that what you think?" he laughed. "I assure you I wasn’t following you, but where were you coming from and why didn’t you want anyone to follow you?"
"I just… needed to get away," she stammered.
"From?" he prodded.
"My father," she sighed, looking up at him slowly, unsure she wanted to see his reaction to her declaration.
"Well, his god won’t help you." Khenti sat himself down on the grass and casually leaned back on his elbows, looking up at her.
"I don’t know of any other gods but the Aten," she defended proudly, folding her arms over her chest and standing over him, shadowing his face from the rising sun.
"Because you were never taught the truth," he stated matter-of-factly.
"Apparently there were a lot of truths I didn’t know about," she muttered.
"I told you that you weren’t going to like what you heard but you insisted on knowing the truth. Now I’d say you’re running from the king because you’re too afraid to face him," he looked up at her again and smiled, knowing he was correct.
"That’s not true! I just don’t want him to find out the things that I know! There’s no telling what the king will do to you or the others if he knows!" she defended again.
Khenti sat up then, realizing she was trying to help them. "We are perfectly aware of what the king can do to us and we don’t need your assistance in escaping him. In fact, if you knew the whole truth, you wouldn’t be trying to stop us."
"You mean there’s more?" she swallowed hard, not sure she wanted to know that her father could do more damage than he had already done.
"I’m sorry to say but your father’s kingdom of Egypt wasn’t formed in a day and every single one of those people, possibly even more, has been affected by the changes he put into place."
"I don’t think I can handle any more!" she replied angrily, turning her back on him and facing the river.
"I don’t think you have much of a choice! It’s either come with us or go back to him." He finally stood up and walked around to face her, looking her straight in the eyes before continuing. "I know what it’s like to be betrayed by your father."
* * * * *
"You daughter is quite impressive for her young age," Nakhte replied.
"She is the Pharaoh’s daughter after all," Nefertiti glared at the man from across the room.
"Indeed she is," he mused, smiling to himself.
"Is your presence necessary for the signing of this deed?" she asked nonchalantly.
"This deed affects the entire southern province. In case you have forgotten, I am the Vizier of that jurisdiction," he pointed out to her.
"Believe me, I have not forgotten," he voice cold as she stood up when Akhenaten entered the room.
Both Nakhte and Nefertiti bowed their heads as a sign of inferiority to the king. Whenever conducting business, they were not allowed to sit until he was seated first and they were not allowed to speak unless first addressed. Akhenaten sat, the two following in suit, and he looked over the piece of papyrus, a deed written in hieroglyphics, signed it, put the official seal of Egypt on it, and finally spoke to them.
"I assume you’ve read the deed, Nakhte, and agree with it?" he spoke firmly, not acknowledging his wife as he stared at his Vizier.
"I cannot say I agree with it completely but I cannot find anything substantially wrong," Nakhte replied, taking the paper from the king.
"It is only temporary until we can stop the rallies and demonstrations. Then things will go back to normal," Akhenaten replied, glancing over at Nefertiti.
"Isn’t your daughter dealing with them?" Nakhte smiled, knowing Nefertiti shifted uncomfortably in her chair.
"She is, but she has been acting odd lately and I would like some reinforcements in case she is not up for the task," the king replied, sensing the tension in the room.
"Very well," Nakhte sighed. "I shall take the deed back and secure a scouting party before the next demonstration begins."
Akhenaten rose from his chair, acknowledging Nakhte’s reply and encouraging him to stand as well. The latter bowed his head and left the room, silently raking his eyes up to look at Nefertiti, smiling. She shifted uncomfortably across from her husband and waited for Nakhte to close the door behind him before making her opinion known to the king.
"Why must that man torment me so?" she asked him, subsequently speaking out of turn.
"Hush, my dear, he may still hear you from behind the door," he consoled.
"I don’t care if he hears me! Do you realize by signing that deed you’ve given him full rites to intrude in our daughter’s affairs?"
"He won’t intrude. I simply signed it to give him more power in his own jurisdiction instead of this one. He seems to be around here too often."
"I agree. I just don’t want him around sweet Meritaten, that’s all."
Akhenaten stood up and walked over to his wife, placing his hands protectively on her shoulders. "She will not be so sweet forever and we must remember that in giving her this task, she is entering into womanhood."
* * * * *
"I have the deed, signed and sealed by the king!" Nakhte announced as he
entered the Great Palace amidst the central city courtyard.
"What is he asking us to do?" Mahu, the chief of police asked.
"We are to keep peace in the southern district, nothing more, nothing
less," was the reply.
"Easy enough," Mahu answered. "But should his daughter return to keep
order?"
"Then we simply alert her to the rules passed by her father’s hand!"
Nakhte laughed aloud, initiating Mahu to laugh as well.
The southern district was devoted more to the middle classes and
educated elite of the city. Most merchants, skilled craftsmen, and the
High Court of Egypt resided here. When Nakhte was appointed as Royal
Vizier it was only natural that he took this jurisdiction, since it was
closest to his home. The Great Palace in the Central City was built not
too far from this suburb so that most of the administrative workings of
Egypt could be accomplished out of convenience. This palace was the
second of the three built and stood directly across the roads from the
Great Aten Temple, to show how the new city had been built and was run
according to the new religion – the new religion the people of Egypt
were trying to stop.
* * * * *
Kamenwati wanted no part in the plan Khenti had for the sweet daughter
of the Pharaoh. He never wanted her involved in the first place and
knowing the Pharaoh had sent her himself meant she could very well be
setting a trap for them all. He wanted action, not negotiated terms, and
using this girl as leverage only made him angrier at the boy. He sat at
a table in the tavern by himself, drinking a watery beer, stewing over
Khenti’s persistence to involve the girl in their plans to rid Egypt of
this "tyrant king".
"You look too deep in thought to interrupt," a sweet voice said to him
as a beautiful Egyptian woman approached his table.
"Amisi, what am I going to do with him? He won’t act and all he seems to
do is rile up the masses with talk," he sighed sadly, staring into his
glass of beer.
"Give him time. He’ll come around," she reassured him.
"I hope so. I almost feel he will be the death of me."
She sat down beside him in an empty chair and tucked her arm around his.
"I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen." Planting a gentle kiss on his
cheek, she smiled up at him.
"Will you be joining the next rally?" he asked her politely.
"And miss a chance to hear Khenti speak? Never!" she chimed and giggled
at the way his nose wrinkled when she mentioned Khenti’s name that way.
"It’ll be behind Baruti’s house this time," he concluded, ignoring the
twinkle in her eyes any time they spoke of Khenti.
"Out in the open?" she exclaimed. "But what if we get caught?"
"We won’t get caught. Baruti is a highly recognized merchant who brings
in much money to the king. He’s already paid off a few of the officers
to keep things from getting out of hand," he smiled, proud that at least
someone in the group had sense enough to do something.
This bit of news eased her mind slightly and she relaxed a bit in her
chair. She knew Baruti was a wealthy merchant and although he was taxed
heavily, he chose to live poorly to save money for such occasions as
these. Rallies were very important to the man; so much so that he would
go out of his way to ensure they did not get caught. He would often play
both sides of the coin – sharing ideas and tales of woe with the group
but also mingling among the elite and giving in to his status as a
merchant in the city. The clergy respected him and the farmers often
looked up to him.
His home was on the border between the main city center and the educated
elite district further south. Having a house close to the river meant he
had greater access to the fish and shellfish he frequently sold in the
marketplace. He was even allowed by the chief of chiefs to monitor his
area of the river and stop all those wishing to fish in ‘his’ waters.
Having him as an ally meant Kamenwati could strike at any moment and he
knew that moment was coming soon. Amisi sighed and placed her hand over
his, reassuring him that things would be ok.