T
wo nights later, after I had returned from the
Lustration of the Rites of Osiris
for Tefnut-Aten, I fell upon my bed in exhaustion only to discover a papyrus sheet upon my pillow, the writing by an unknown hand. I jerked up. What if Sit-Amun sought her revenge with a poisoned pen? I poked at the papyrus, knowing it could be a trap. The papyrus smelled like rose. Catching my breath, I had to know what new threats she would hurl at me. I picked up the message with a shaking hand and read:
‘Tomorrow night, you are summoned to the Gem-pa-Aten. A messenger will be sent to retrieve you. It is imperative. You have earned the right to receive your first initiation.’
Could Sit-Amun be testing me? Why else would I be called to the temple at night instead of during the day when the sun burned bright? I was too smart for her little game.
I shivered in bed. Most Khemitians would be holding their protective amulets close to their bodies, praying they would live to see another day. I weighed this decision. I kicked the linens off my bed. Tossing and turning, I struggled all night until I soaked the sheets with perspiration. The next day I grew sullen.
After dinner, Meti handed me a note with instructions. Together we bathed and were dressed in linen pure as a white lotus. I smiled. Both of us would become Neophytes for preliminary testing. The usual prattle of court gossip had dissipated. Instead silence banged as loud as a gong. We were forbidden to speak. I felt relieved that she must know the plan. She would not let me walk into danger.
I ached to fill that void and quell the fear of what lay ahead by asking questions. But the rules were clear. No talking. When I reached to slip on my golden sandals, Meti prevented me by shaking her finger.
“Why not?” I asked, secretly happy she had engaged in conversation. With the cleverness of a jackal, I could get her to divulge the mystery. Pentu entered the small reception room adjoining our sleeping chambers. He surprised both of us because he only crossed this threshold when illness persisted. He walked in great strides, towering over us as his bejeweled breast plate gleamed. Our thoughtful physician extended his hand. Meti put her arm around me and in unison we stepped forward.
Pentu blocked her. He shook his head. Once again, he offered only me his welcoming hand. Meti recoiled from the rejection.
“She is a child. If she goes, then I shall attend also,” she said, crossing her arms.
Pentu glared and gave an adamant shake of his head. She had broke the rule by speaking.
“I am the Per Aat. If I wish to attend, then I will and you cannot stop me,” she said and nudged forward, “or I shall call my guards.”
Pentu frowned. “You do not even have the strength of will to follow the initiatic code and remain silent. This is a time of reverence. I cannot and will not recommend you as a candidate. Rules of court are fallow compared to the consecration of the spiritual initiation Merit-Aten will receive.”
“Why her and not me?” she inquired. “I am the Per Aat. She is only eight and has plenty of time to receive these initiations when she’s older. You cannot take her. I am her Meti and I will not allow my baby…” she started to say.
“You know she matures faster than her chronological years. She has the predominant genes of her father, which means that she is the One. It should not come as any surprise that duty calls,” stated Pentu, reminding her of something previously foretold.
“But…” Meti gazed at Pentu with wishful eyes, moist and full of pain to have me ripped from her bosom.
Her actions did not move our physician. “I have the blessings of Akhenaten and I answer to the will of Aten. I shall not argue. We are under the constraint of time, Majesty. Now, we must depart.” Green swirls of love flowed from his heart.
She attempted to obstruct his path with a defiance that would subjugate most others. Pentu waved his hand in front of her eyes and said a word. Meti’s eyes glazed over and her face softened with obedience.
“We will leave now. You must be exhausted and need sleep,” said Pentu.
She yawned. “Yes, I shall go straight to bed.” With that she departed without further conflict. Her red swirls of rage shifted into calmness. Meti always fought for something she desperately wanted. The dream of rising up the levels to become an Initiate burned in her heart, yet she gave up this struggle too easily.
“How did you do that, Pentu?”
“Do not concern yourself with that tonight, Your Majesty,” he said and started to raise his finger. If that finger reached his lips then I must obey the code, but if I could ask another question first then perhaps he’d answer me.
“I wish to know right now.” My first order as a royal. Done. Now, he must answer.
Ever gracious, Pentu turned to me—he could deny me nothing, which enchanted me. “I mesmerized her. I made my thoughts hers.”
“I want to learn to mesmerize,” I said, imagining all kinds of wonderful uses for such a skill. The cook would make honey cakes for all meals. No more pulling my hair in the Ritual of the Morning. Even Sit-Amun would be at my whim.
“You will learn. In time. Now, let us redeem ourselves by beginning our journey with a reverent start. The discipline of inner reflection must be commenced before we proceed. Are we in agreement?” With hands crossed over his chest, he bent in a low dignified bow.
Was this a trick? I nodded, pleased that I could keep silent and not argue. I decided to press further about mesmerization later. Under the cloak of a raven’s wing, he ushered me out onto an unadorned barge. We sailed through the Nile waters with the stars mapping our way.
Tonight, Mother yearned for something she couldn’t convince someone to give her and it vexed me, but not for the reasons of a daughter protecting her mother. Neither her shining and glorious beauty, nor the power of the crown, nor the loveliness of her manner, desirable and sweet like rain in the desert, could influence this man to change his mind. I’d never seen anyone fail to succumb to my mother’s enchantments. In secret, it gladdened my heart. How could I not gloat that this one man chose me?
The Gem-pa-Aten Temple, now plagued with guards, seemed chaotic on the outside. In contrast, the serenity of the interior sanctuary was hushed under the glow of the full moon. The pillars flickered golden from the light of the torches. We aimed down the long path into the very heart of the Gem-Pa-Aten. Pentu pointed to the ground, signaling for me to wait. He tread with deliberate steps and disappeared through the last door.
I grew bored. I had never been alone at night here. I ached to explore.
A little brown mouse skittered toward me.
Hello
, I thought.
The mouse wrinkled its nose and whiskers.
Are you talking to me?
Yes, I am. Could you tell me if you have seen the Pharaoh anywhere?
Indeed. He awaits through this door
, The mouse pointed with a tiny paw.
Would you mind letting me know when a man returns? I am supposed to wait but I need to speak to the Pharaoh, for I am his daughter.
I would be honored to alert you
. The mouse bowed.
The space under the door gleamed with soft light. Thoughts of my father made me aware of his presence. I could feel him. Surely, Pentu wouldn’t be angry. In truth, it would only be polite to let Netri know I was here. Feeling pulled toward that last door, the radiance beckoned me, daring me to enter.
Taking caution, I slipped in through the entrance. Elegant veilings of a sheer drapery were hung in the far corner of the room where the candle flickered. I would find him and give him a loving kiss upon his cheek. His embrace would reassure me before this initiation.
Moving catlike, I pulled the curtain away.
Encased in a golden violet light that pulsed from his body sat my father. In a meditative pose of crossed legs and hands in mudra position, the Pharaoh floated light as a cloud above the floor. Unfettered by the earthly bonds that still anchored me, the hands of grace lifted him like a radiant beacon of light. He was transfixed in utter bliss. This beautiful being reached for something elevated unlike those of us whose feet still dragged in mournful steps upon the ground.
I could not move. My jaw dropped. How was this possible? Had I disturbed something sacred, something profound, something I should not be privy to? With one last look, a bond of love connected me to his soul. How I yearned for him to affirm this truth. But I had intruded into his inner sanctum. He wouldn’t open his eyes. Mine teared up. I tried to back away. I felt excluded from his world of inner mystery.
Only a fleeting thought, but as my father the Great Pharaoh of Khemit completed his rotation, his eyes set upon mine. Deep. Penetrating. Serene.
Lighten your load. Release the gravity of life, rather feel the levity and joy of All That Is.
I heard his thoughts. In that brief interlude it solidified our union. I bore witness to him that day. He returned the deed.
Letting the curtain fall, I retreated from the sanctum, taking care not to disturb him further.
The man is coming, Your Highness
, the mouse silently warned.
Thank you.
Indeed, Pentu waited with crossed arms and a face that neither admonished nor indulged my disobedience. He held his position, and I knew that I must humble myself. I walked to him and bowed with my arms crossed over my collar bone. He waited a painful stretch, which left me agonizing that he wouldn’t continue my initiation. An eternity ticked by.
Then he directed me toward the last door and knocked three times.
The door opened.
“Who has entered into the womb of Aten?” demanded a woman.
Pentu nudged me forward and encouraged me to answer.
“It is I, Merit-Aten, Beloved of Aten.”
“Are you worthy to receive the first initiatic attunement of Aten?” she asked.
I reviewed my naughtiness and pondered. I raised my eyebrows in question to Pentu and shrugged.
Then I heard Pentu’s gentle voice within my mind,
You are worthy
.
“I am worthy,” I answered with a bit of surprise.
The woman nodded to Pentu, who took out a white piece of linen and blindfolded me. He steadied me by placing his hands upon my shoulders.
“This will represent your blindness to the unseen world. Soon what is hidden will be revealed with your faith and hard work.”
“Repeat the first stanza to the
Liturgy to Aten
,” the concealed woman ordered.
Ah, I thought, the
Akhu Asharu Aten
. I knew that by heart. Line by line, I repeated the verbiage with the same dedication I heard within my father’s voice.
“Perform the Ritual Dance to Aten,” she said.