Nefertiti

I nodded. ‘I am.’

Nefertiti said nothing for a little while, and I realized that a faint light had crept into the chamber, countering the many lamps that were now guttering down to extinction.

‘We are back with the question of stories,’ she said. ‘Which one shall I tell you? Shall I tell you about the dream of a better and truer world? Shall I tell you about the day we first commanded the companions, the great ones of the palaces, the commanders of the guards, the officers of the works, the officials, the minor officials, their sons, to come before us and kneel in the dust and worship us as we worshipped the light? Shall I tell you about the looks on their faces? Shall I tell you about the happy births of our daughters, and the general sorrow at the lack of a son? Shall I tell you about the enemies among friends moving against us, men of the past to whom we opposed the loyal younger men? And shall I tell you what it was like to feel, to relish our new freedom from old constraints, old lies, old gods? To know the beautiful force of the present moment, the glorious possibilities of the future? We built this dream out of mud, stone, wood and labour, but we also built it out of our minds, our imaginations, like a Book of Light, not a Book of Shadows, to be read, if you have the knowledge, like a map of a new eternity.’

I stared at her.

‘Do you think me mad?’

She asked the question intently, seriously. I could answer honestly.

‘No, not mad,’ I said.

‘Most did, secretly. We knew what was passing for conversation in the streets, at tables in people’s homes, in the offices. But our ambition was nothing less than ankhemmaat. Living in Truth. Remember the poem?

You create the infinite possibilities out of yourself:

Cities, towns, fields, the journey of the great river;

Every eye sees you in relation to all things

For you are Aten of the light over the world,

And when you depart none exist…’

I remembered my intuitions on seeing the Great Temple for the first time. All those loyal and conforming citizens raising their hands and their babies to the light of the sun; those old men, sweating in their dignity during the ceremony for Meryra; and the poor dead girl whose face had been beaten off. What did all that have to do with living in truth?

She turned away from me and walked along the edge of the last shadows that still lay across the floor.

‘But I now know that to exalt human nature, especially one’s own, beyond reasonable limits is a terrible mistake,’ she continued. ‘Passionate commitment to the idea of a better world can disguise passionate hatreds. Beliefs that claim to transform men end up debasing, degrading and enslaving them. So I think. I pray it is not too late.’

She hugged her arms about herself. The spell of the lamps had given way to blue dawn light descending the stairs. In that light she seemed less magnificent, less exceptional, more ordinary, more human. There were lines of tension and tiredness etched into her face. She wound a fine shawl around her shoulders for warmth and came and sat down close to me.

‘I see now the horror we have unleashed. It is a monster of destruction. The streets are filling with soldiers, homes are being broken open, fear is occupying the cities like an invading army. I heard that a band of Medjay set fire to a village, mutilated the temple icons, killed, cooked and dined upon the sacred animals in the sanctuaries, and then forced the men out naked into the wilderness. Is this the future of which I dreamed? No. This is barbarism and darkness, not justice and enlightenment. Even the little things, even jars of unguent and incense, are to be made illegal if they carry the symbols of the old gods. It is madness.’

I said nothing. I agreed with everything she said. But I was really waiting for what came next.

‘But Akhenaten does not think so. My husband, the Lord of the Two Lands, is blind to what is happening. He is obsessed with his vision. And by deluding himself that all is well he plays into the hands of his many enemies. He demands greater responses, stronger enforcements, an ever harsher light shining into every part of people’s lives. And of course the people start to hate him. He has persecuted the Amun Priests beyond what was necessary and tolerable, and he has ordered the names and images of their gods to be hacked from temple walls and local shrines, even tombs. He has cast them out upon the streets where they cry havoc and revenge. And he ignores the growing turbulence elsewhere in the Empire; he ignores the pleas for help from his northern allies. The territories become unstable, caravans are attacked, and the work of generations to extend and confirm our power over the vassal states is lost in a year. The local wars become more severe, the populations lose the security they need to produce goods, supply routes become too dangerous, fields lie derelict and produce only weeds, taxation is not collected, and those loyal to us lose their towns and their lives to bandits whose only interest is immediate profit and whose only kindness is slaughter. Above all, he ignores the fact that there are men of great power who wish to manipulate this nightmare, this chaos, to their own ends. Monsters at our borders and nightmares at our gates work well for them. Do you begin, now, to understand why I had to leave?’

She looked at me with a desperate plea for understanding in her eyes. Again I had the sensation of vertigo, of finding myself on the precipice of a terrible abyss, and no bridge but words to cross it.

‘This is the talk of the city,’ I said. ‘I have heard it whispered wherever I have gone. But it has not entirely come to pass yet.’

‘No, not yet. And that is the story we must enact. Everything is at stake. Not just my life, or the lives of my daughters and the continuance of our family, or of you and your own children. Not just the fate of this city, and its Great Truth. But the future of the Two Lands. Everything that Time has created out of nothing, all this gold and green glory, will be lost to chaos and suffering, returned to the wilderness of the Red Land, if someone does not stop it now.’

I built the only bridge I could to her. ‘I will do anything you ask of me. Not only for these reasons, but also because I want my old life back. My home and my family. I cannot return to them unless I go forward.’

She touched my hand gently. ‘You are living in great fear for their well-being. I am sorry to have brought you to this. But perhaps now you understand why.’

We sat there, quietly, as the light evolved through deepest indigo into long, low streaks of red and then to a pale gold that brightened the room, the signs and symbols in the stones, and her face, the new day like a scarab of power and promise.

‘There are many forces working against me,’ she said eventually. ‘Too many threats. Some within the family, some in the Medjay, some in the military, and of course the Priesthood, who would overthrow the new god and return the Two Lands immediately to the old and more profitable ways. Many of the new men in power would have opposed me without a second thought, for their lives and fortunes are dedicated to the new regime. Do you know what it is like to trust no-one, not even your own children? That is why I had to choose flight over fight. Why I had to leave behind my life and myself, why I had to cover my tracks and find a way to save us all. And I could not bear to be seen to condone the Great Changes now, by appearing beside my husband at the Festival.’

‘And the girl? Seshat?’

‘I heard the news.’

‘Her face was beaten off.’

She turned away in a gesture of sorrow. ‘I know.’

I stared at her. When she looked back at me her eyes were lit with pain and anger.

‘You think I ordered her death to cover my disappearance?’

‘The thought had occurred to me.’

‘You think I would kill an innocent girl? To save myself?’

She walked away, the anger suddenly seething inside her. I had to admit that the possibility of such guilt no longer fitted the woman I had found. I almost wished I had not spoken. I had hurt her. Still, I could not help but add, ‘And you know about the deaths also of the young Medjay officer Tjenry, and of Meryra the High Priest?’

She nodded, returned to the couch and sat down, shaking her head. Neither of us spoke, but I could see she was thinking, like me: who could have committed such brutal atrocities, and why?

‘Why me?’ I said, suddenly.