Out of the Black Land - By Kerry Greenwood Page 0,147

the Black Land and his new little Great Royal Wife had died the next day. He would have to wait some time before the next princess, Meritaten, suffered under the phallus of the Divine Father, though she was ten and youth had not given her sister any immunity.

Things had changed a great deal in a few years. When he had established the city of Amarna, Akhnaten may he die had a wife and six daughters. Now the king had lost his wife, three of his daughters—for little Neferneferure had died of the summer fever a week after her sister Setepenre—and he had to endure growing unpopularity. The dispersal of the Royal Women had been seen as disgraceful. The sacrifice to the Phoenix would not increase his reputation. Even in an Egypt grown corrupt and cynical, such things were not done in the courts of the Pharaoh.

I looked at the royal family at the Window of Appearances. Standing next to the king was the boy Smenkhare, a slim youth with a very new wig-of-state. Before my eyes, the King Akhnaten kissed the boy on the mouth, pinching between his thumb and forefinger the nipple on the flat chest.

Standing next to his brother in this strange gathering was Tutankhaten, the last remaining child of Amenhotep-Osiris. Both Meritaten and Tutankhaten were dusted with the ash of mourning and I could see tears on their cheeks. Ankhesenpaaten had her arms around her brother’s shoulders and he was leaning back into her embrace. I reflected that of all those present the princess Ankhesenpaaten was the only one who appeared to be finding something useful to do.

The rest just stood there, the ministers of state with their mouths open. Huy looked even more like an unsuccessful ass-seller than ever, and Pannefer appeared to have been struck dumb. Mekhetaten’s untimely death had surprised them all and disarranged their plans.

The only person who had maintained their demeanour was my father Ay. He was not smiling, but he looked full-fed and satisfied. Whatever befell the royal family, Ay’s position was secure. He was, in a way, a pure man. He had no human ties, though he was perhaps a little fond of Nefertiti and my mother Tey in his way. But he was devoted, body and soul, to gain. There was only one thought in his mind, how to own more and more of everything; not to do anything with it, but to own it. His rape of the little princess would have had no lust in it. The likelihood that he would have to lie with possibly all of the remaining Amarna princesses in blood and against all propriety did not concern him either, if it meant that by committing any foul action he could increase his wealth. He did not even want power. Just wealth.

I repeated the Widow-Queen Tiye’s little curse on him as I watched the bearers bring out the litter. Mekhetaten was going to the House of Life, and after forty days her embalmed body would lie in the new rock-cut tombs to the east of the city. I had no more tears.

When the litter had gone and the wailing had died away, I went back inside. I needed to speak to the Widow-Queen Tiye.

But when I came to her door, I found my way barred by the king’s guard.

‘The lady is in mourning for the Princess Mekhetaten,’ they told me. ‘She has given orders that she is not to be disturbed for forty days, until the child is buried.’

‘Can you tell her that I am here and I will share her mourning?’ I asked.

‘The lord Akhnaten may he live has ordered us to let no one in or out,’ he said solemnly. ‘The lady is in mourning.’

‘Surely she will see me?’ I persisted. ‘Ask her, if you please, captain.’

For the first time he met my eyes. In his face I saw the stolid inflexibility, the puff-faced righteousness, of a man doing something which he knows is wrong because he has been ordered. The captain was taking refuge in his orders, and against that I had no argument which would succeed in getting the door open.

‘If she should ask for me, I will be with General Horemheb.’

‘If she should ask,’ he said, ‘I will tell her.’

I knew, just from the way he said it, that she would not ask. I hurried away to find Kheperren. The Widow-Queen was imprisoned. I did not know if she were dead or alive, though she was probably alive; she