He was not beautiful, being a little fat. The rolls of his belly spoke of good living and his jaw was deformed, but his smile was enchanting and a little wistful, the smile of a man who has shared such delights and possesses them no longer.
'I came to seek a scribe, and it seems that I have found two,' he said politely. I was about to reply when Kheperren grabbed me and dragged me down to my knees and then pushed me onto my face on the paved shore of the sacred lake.
'What are you doing?' I protested as I yielded to his hand.
'Lord of the Two Lands, forgive our insolence,' he begged, and I realised that I had just been spoken to by the Pharaoh's son Akhnamen, Amenhotep IV, co-regent with our own Pharaoh and his only son since Thutmose the Prince died.
And I had almost spoken to a Pharaoh while standing on my feet and looking into his face, for which I could rightly be put to a very nasty death.
'Forgive us, Ruler of Rulers,' I agreed hastily, and put my lips to the curved toe of a gem-encrusted sandal.
A number of people laughed. Out of the corner of my eye - I stayed exactly where I was, face down on the bank in an attitude of complete prostration - I saw the hems of delicate garments and small feet in papyrus sandals.
'Come, let them arise,' said a gentle voice. I dared a quick glance upward and saw the neat dark wig and painted eyes of a very beautiful older woman. Her hennaed hand almost touched my brother's head. Patterns were drawn up to her wrists, which were heavy with chains in the form of lotus flowers and buds. The scent of jasmine enveloped us as the others came from concealment under the outer pillars of the temple of Amen-Re.
'Are they not comely?' asked the Lord of the Two Lands idly.
'Comely indeed, but what does His Majesty want with them?' asked the honey-voiced Queen. She must be the famous Tiye, the red-headed woman, Akhnamen's mother.
'I have need of a personal scribe,' said the King. 'What say you, Lady of the Two Lands, shall I have this or this?' He touched first my head and then my dear friend's.
'Lord of Upper and Lower Egypt, Lord of the River, take both, since they are brothers,' suggested another voice. The speaker sounded male and a little curt. I believe that it was the Master of the Scribes. I didn't know that they knew about us.
'No. One alone, who will love me, is what I want,' said the King. My heart gave a startled jolt, as though a hand had seized it. I slid my hand across and grasped that of my heart's brother, horrified that we were to part.
'This one,' said the light, careful voice of the King, and laid the flail of Kingship gently across my shoulders. I shuddered at the touch.
Thus I was given my freedom, though it was bitter at the time with the parting from the only one I loved. Thus I became personal scribe to the Pharaoh's son Akhnamen, Amenhotep IV, who is called Live the Horus, Mighty Bull, Lofty of Plumes: Favourite of the Two Goddesses: Great in Kingship in Karnak: Golden Horus: Weaver of Diadems in the Southern Heliopolis: King of Upper and Lower Egypt: High Priest of Re Harakhte Rejoicing- in-the-Horizon, Heat which is Amen, Neferkheprure-Wanre, which means in the common tongue Beautiful One of Re, Unique One of Re.
CHAPTER TWO
Mutnodjme
It is a serious business, marrying a Pharaoh.
This is because he is also a God, the avatar of Amen-Re, Lord of All. He takes many women as concubines and secondary wives, but there is only one Great Royal Wife, and it is through her that the crown is gained. Therefore he is usually required to marry his sister.
The case of Akhnamen was unusual. Everything about my sister's husband was unusual and I found myself wishing, sometimes, that Prince Thutmose, his elder brother, had not died after being bitten by a snake. The physicians and the priests had laboured over him as he shivered and screamed, but their spells had not found favour with the Gods and Thutmose, the eldest son and his father's delight, had departed to the Field of Offerings, the pleasant land where the ka of the person goes after death.
It is well known that a person has five elements: the ka, or double; the khou, or soul, the little flame which burns over the ka; and the ba, or the body-spirit. Then there are the Name and the Shadow, but only priests really understand these mysteries.
I have at last been allowed to stop tormenting flowers and I am sitting at my sisters feet, already dressed in my own best garments, listening to Tey's instructions as the bath-women massage Nefertiti with scented oil. My mother's voice is sharp and precise. She says exactly what she means, and she knows everything.
'This is a great honour, daughter, and it has been bestowed on you because Tiye the Queen may she live is your father's sister. You are required to serve the Pharaoh, please him, and bear him a son.'
'Mother,' Nefertiti murmurs, 'that may not be possible'.
'You have heard the rumours, then?' asked Tey. She is sitting in a leather saddleback chair and she is picking the gold leaf off one of the lion's head finials. I can see her nervous fingers, dark and skilled, smeared with golden dust.
'They say that he is impotent,' Nefertiti did not sound perturbed, but then she never did. Her nature was as sweet and still as cream.
'You must do your best,' said Tey. Then she sat up straight and clapped her hands, gesturing to the door. The servants left without comment - Tey would never keep a servant who did not obey her instantly - and the door closed.
'You know the situation, daughter,' said my mother. 'Amenhotep the Third may he live and his son, are co-regents. The next King was to have been Prince Thutmose but he is gone. The King strives to teach the Lord Akhnamen wisdom such as he himself richly owns, but the Heir was idle and mystical when he was just a prince. Now he wishes to do nothing but consider the deep matters of the Gods which would be better left to priests, whose business they are.
'And the King Amenhotep is aging - health and strength be unto him - so your Lord may soon be Lord of all Egypt, may that day be long delayed! Before this happens, a son is needed.'
'Why didn't my Lord Akhnamen marry his sister the Princess Sitamen?' I asked from the floor. Tey jumped, saw that it was only me, and answered briskly.
'Because his father had already married her. There is no Royal Heiress for the Heir to marry, so he has done this house great honour in choosing Nefertiti. Your questions will not spoil, Mutnodjme, if you keep them in your mouth until later!'
'Do not scold her, Mother,' my beautiful sister drew me closer to her scented breast. 'It was a good question. And the problem remains, Mother Tey. I do not need rumours, I can see for myself that there is something amiss with the Heir; though he is gentle, they say. If no seed springs from him in my womb, what shall we do?'
'We will think of something,' said Tey. 'I will be near, daughter, we will talk again. Let me look at you.'
Nefertiti stood up and Tey herself draped the gown over her; the finest pleated gauze-thin linen, through which her delicate pale limbs moved, as visible as a woman swimming in milk. The fashion for short, neat wigs, the sort that they called Nubian, suited my sister's pure line of jaw and nose. The jewels of the Pharaoh were laid on her shoulders and arms, and I thought that they weighed her down. My sister was more beautiful in her bare skin as Khnum the Potter made her on his wheel, than any lady dressed
