“Is he mocking us then?”
“He is the most earnest man I know.”
“So you have no explanation for it.”
“That is the truth, Your Majesty.”
“Do you think his mind is sound?” he asked with a scowl.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Could it be the voice of some evil force?”
“Decipher his words, for only they bear the answer to your question.”
He cried angrily, “The answer is in the storms that will hit us when the priests learn of his absurdity.”
When Akhenaten married Nefertiti, everyone hoped that in marriage his religious ardor would be restrained, and that he would begin to have a more realistic vision. But the wife, too, became a priestess. Together, they walked the path of the One and Only. No power on earth could stop them. Amenhotep III died and Akhenaten, bearing the message of the One Creator, succeeded him. We knew that in his reign something of grave significance was bound to happen; we were frightened to predict what it might be. Like the others, I was given the choice of either adopting his faith or living my life however I wished away from his palace. I did not hesitate and declared my faith in his God. The thought of being away from him was unbearable. Besides, I did love his God and secretly considered him the master of all gods. But I also kept my old faith in the other deities, especially Thoth, the god of science, whose talismans I used to treat people's maladies. Then there was the new city, Akhetaten, the marvelous city of the One God. We moved to it all together, an assembly of joyful people singing blissfully. The king was entranced, his face beaming with ecstasy.
“Here we are, O Mighty God, humble and transient in your pure city. O Great One, we enter your home, which has never known any god but you.”
At first we were so happy that we wished we were created immortal to live forever in that paradise. Every morning I compared what I heard in the temple of the One God to the liturgy of the old gods and the rituals of the Book of the Dead. I became certain beyond doubt that a stream of divine light was filling us with pure happiness. The first winds of trouble came with the death of the beloved princess Meketaten.
“Bento, save her. She is the love of my life,” Akhenaten pleaded.
When the beautiful princess passed away, the king and queen wept a flood of tears. He blamed his God until Meri-Ra said, “Do not anger God with your tears.”
Upon hearing the high priest, Akhenaten's wailing grew louder. No one knew if it was out of grief or guilt. Perhaps both.
“It is the sorcery of the priests of Amun,” Nefertiti cried. She repeated the same words every time she bore a daughter and the chance of a male heir was lost once more. Akhenaten shared her pain.
“Bento,” he asked, “can you help us bear a son?”
“I try my best, Your Majesty.”
“Do you believe in the sorcery of the priests?”
“We certainly should not underestimate it,” I replied reluctantly.
He meditated for a moment. “God will persevere, and his joy will fill the universe. But we, his humble creation, shall never be rid of our little sorrows,” he said mournfully. Because of his faith he was always able to elevate himself from grief to the summit of the holy truth where the brilliant light of God inundated his soul.
When the tension grew inside Egypt and on its borders, the high priest of Amun sent me a secret messenger.
“Can I trust you with saving the country from the dreadful fate that looms over it?” he asked, after reminding me of my vow in the temple of Amun.
I realized instantly that the high priest wanted me to use my role as the king's physician to kill him. I replied, “My profession does not condone treachery.”
I met with Maho, the chief of police, and asked him to step up security, particularly among the cooks in the palace.
Bento was silent for a while, seeking some rest from these wearisome memories. I remembered some of the conflicting reports I had heard about Akhenaten's sexu ality, but doubted that Bento would allude to it. Since I was very curious, I had to ask. “Akhenaten's body and features had the attributes of both male and female,” he said. “But, as a man, he was capable of loving and procreating.” Then my lips trembled with a pressing question. After a moment of hesitation I mustered up all my courage and asked, “Have you heard what they say about his relationship with his mother?” Bento scowled and said, “Of course I have, just like you. But I always dismissed it as malicious fabrication.” He stopped for a moment, looking increasingly troubled, then continued, “The fact is that Akhenaten was a very special being, far too good for any of us to understand. He was a visionary, promising a paradise irreconcilable with human nature. He confronted people with their mediocrity and provoked their deepest fears. So they pounced on him with animal anger and desperation.”
Encouraged by his openness, I continued, “What do you think of Nefertiti?”
“A great queen who has earned her greatness.”
“And how do you explain her desertion of Akhenaten?”
“I have only one explanation. She could not endure the blows that poured down on them; she felt helpless and took flight.” Then he continued.
The tragedy came to a terrible end when Akhenaten's men decided to abandon him. I asked Haremhab to let me stay with him as his physician. He told me that the priests would send their own physician to tend him. But he allowed me to examine him for the last time before I left. I went to the palace at once. It was empty apart from him and a few slaves and guards that the priests had appointed.
I found him in his usual solitude, praying, singing gently:
When he finished his prayer, he looked at me and smiled. I looked away to hide the tears in my eyes.
“How were you able to come, Bento?” he asked.
“Haremhab gave me permission to examine you before I left.”
“I am in excellent health,” he said calmly.
“All the loyal ones were forced to leave,” I said, my voice tremulous with feeling.
“I know who was forced and who chose to leave.” The smile never left his face.
I bowed down and kissed his hand. “It pains me that you must remain alone.”
“I am not alone. Have faith, Bento,” he said calmly. Then he continued with an invigorating determination, “They think that my God and I are defeated. But he never betrays nor does he accept defeat.”
I cried so much that when I left the palace my eyes were like firebrands. I was certain that the physician they sent him would kill the most noble soul that has ever inhabited a human body. Since the time I left Akhetaten, I
