He stepped ashore and ordered his tent erected, and when he fell asleep that night, he dreamed once again. He imagined that he saw the cliffs and the plain still before him, but transformed into a scene of wondrous beauty, for now there rose a city filled with gleaming towers and walls, bird-thronged gardens and fish-stocked pools, palaces and houses of unparalleled splendour, and above all of them a temple open to the sun. Gazing at the vision, King Amen-hetep felt a sense of rapture so bright that it seemed to blaze within his heart, and the very streets, he could see now, were filling up with light. ‘Some great wonder,’ he thought, ‘is presaged by all this,’ as the pleasure in his heart still soared and grew more bright, and the city seemed to shimmer and rise to meet his joy. It was then that he awoke; yet like the distant echoing of music, the pleasure still remained, though faint and deep within his heart, and as he felt it, he knew what it was he had to do.
Returning to Thebes, he summoned his Court and described to them the vision of the city in his dream. ‘That same city,’ he proclaimed, ‘we must now attempt to build, for I am certain that, if we succeed, some great blessing will be afforded by the grace of the All-High.’ These words were greeted with wondrous acclamation, and the news was spread throughout all Egypt and beyond, so that the world’s finest craftsmen and architects and artists, eager with a passion to fulfil Pharaoh’s dream, gathered at the site of the crescent plain, and a city was raised up from the sands into the sky. When all was completed, the news was brought to King Amen-hetep; and he prepared in great hope to embark for the place. First, though, he journeyed to the temple of Amen, and he ordered the roof to be torn down from its walls, so that the light of the sun could purge its rooms of mystery and melt, so he trusted, the darkness of its secrets. ‘Let the weeds grow across its floors,’ he proclaimed, ‘and let its pillars be haunted by jackals and owls.’ And then, to illustrate how the past was henceforth to be abandoned, he announced that his name was no longer Amen-hetep but instead Akh-en-Aten -- which meant, in his language, ‘the glory of the sun’.
So it was that when he landed on the crescent plain, his heart was already filled to overflowing with hope; but when he first saw the city conjured up upon the sands, he cried out in rapture and approbation, for it seemed the very image of the city from his dream. Remembering the brightness which he had also witnessed then, and the emotions of joy which had seemed to presage some great wonder, King Akh-en-Aten stepped into his chariot and drove towards the city; and as he neared it so he prayed for a miracle, a sign. Then all at once, borne upon the breeze, he caught the perfume of an infinite number of sweet flowers, and he saw, when he gazed about him at the city, how lotuses were suddenly blooming on its pools, shady arbours were sprouting lushly by its walls, and fragrant-leaved trees were bending low above its buildings and its roads. From their boughs rose the songs of brightly coloured birds, in a chorus louder than any which King Akh-en-Aten had ever heard before, and he gazed about him in astonishment, for it seemed that every beauty of the living earth was emerging there to greet him, risen up all at once from the dust.
Then at the same moment, from amongst the crowds which had gathered by the roadside, there came a sudden murmuring, and then gasps of astonishment, and King Akh-en-Aten saw that they had turned to gaze into the distance. He shook out his reins and rode his chariot on, and as he arrived by the gateway to the city so a messenger, panting and covered in dust, came stumbling forward to kneel down in the road. ‘O mighty Pharaoh,’ he cried out, ‘a blessing and a wonder is drawing near to greet you! Upon the road which leads into the far side of the city, a litter is approaching, veiled, so it seems, with golden light. Behind it is a train of every kind of beast, lions and leopards, and gambolling panthers, deer of a slender and marvellous grace, spotted cattle and gleaming white bullocks, all perfectly tamed, as though by the beauty of that peerless Princess, fairer than anything, fairer than life, who rides in splendour high upon the litter -- for in truth, O happy King, she seems to put the very sun to shame!’
‘Not the sun,’ answered King Akh-en-Aten, suddenly shuddering, ‘do not say the sun -- for there is only One who may do that.’ But even as he spoke he turned to stare ahead, and his words were suddenly frozen on his tongue, for now he could see, borne high upon a throne of gold, the Princess, and at once he was filled with a brightness of rapture, such as he only ever remembered feeling in his dream. Numbly he stepped down on to the road to receive her. Drawing near, the princess ordered her litter lowered with a gesture of her hand, and stepped down likewise; and then she stepped forward into the light of the sun.
King Akh-en-Aten realised now that the messenger had not been exaggerating. Never before had he seen such mortal beauty. The Princess’s figure was perfect, as slender as a reed, her breasts seemed like twin fruit of ivory and her feet and hands were deliciously small. Her hair was the colour of deepest night, and hung in seven tresses far below her waist. Her cheeks were rosy, her lips bright red and her teeth like delicate and lustrous pearls. Beneath her long, silken lashes her almond eyes were black, and their gleam seemed as bright as that of an angel. King Akh-en-Aten watched as she angled her head upon her neck, which was long and slender and bejewelled with gold, and lowered her painted eyelids to hood her gleaming eyes, as though with fascination at her first sight of him. King Akh-en-Aten longed to speak to her, to say anything at all, but he found that her presence had struck him utterly dumb, for he could only think that the messenger had spoken less than the truth. The Princess was indeed more lovely than the sun, and more lovely than the moon, and more lovely than all the infinite number of stars, for indeed it was as though their fire had been stolen from the heavens, and their radiance enshrined within the beauty of her form; and as he stared at her, the King felt that he too was being somehow enveloped by the light. And when he met her gaze, he found it languid with a tender and captivating passion; and he knew himself dazzled and overwhelmed by love.
Almost without an awareness of what he was doing, he brushed the softness of her lips with his own. He took her slim hand and led her towards the Palace; and all the crowds who were watching shouted out in wonder, giving to the Princess the name of Nefer-titi, which in their own language meant, ‘She Who Comes in Beauty.’ And King Akh-en-Aten, barely conscious of anything save the presence of the Princess, nevertheless heard the cries of this name; and when at length they had left all the crowds far behind and stood alone together within the gardens of the Palace, he turned to his companion and, discovering his tongue, he too addressed her as Nefer-titi.
She smiled at this, and gently stroked his cheeks. As she did so, King Akh-en-Aten felt himself once again consumed by soft flames, and as she reached out to kiss him he broke away, for he was desperately attempting to stay true to his resolve - yet he sensed how that too was being burned up by the flames. He met her lips and felt his body melt, so that he lost all sense of time, all knowledge of place. Then King Akh-en-Aten felt the Princess’s lips break from his own; and he stared at her, blinking, as though trying to wake up from a dream.
‘Who are you?’ he whispered softly. ‘What is your name?’
She smiled at him again. ‘Let me be known,’ she answered, ‘by the name which you have called me, for in truth, before this time I have borne many names.’
‘Why,’ King Akh-en-Aten frowned, ‘how can that be?’ He took a step backwards, suddenly fearful. ‘Where are you from?’
‘From the Kingdom of the Stars,’ Nefer-titi replied, reaching out to take the King Akh-en-Aten by the hand, even as he tensed and sought to step back once again. ‘Do not be astonished,’ she whispered, feeling his resistance melt upon her touch, ‘for you should know, O mighty King, that there are as many worlds within the sky as there are grains of sand within the desert, and many orders of beings other than man - and yet all have been formed by the single hand.’
Still King Akh-en-Aten gazed at her with doubt upon his brow. ‘You have come, then,’ he asked, ‘by the will of the Aten?’
‘Do you think,’ she answered softly, ‘that your prayers have gone unheard?’
‘My prayers?’ King Akh-en-Aten narrowed his eyes, then he suddenly laughed. ‘But I asked that the poison in my blood be purged away. I asked that I be able to love, and father children and know that I will not then wreak an evil on the world. I asked in short’ - he shrugged with bitterness - ‘that I be like other men. How can you possibly answer those prayers?’
‘Why,’ Nefer-titi answered him, ‘is your faith indeed so faint?’
The King gazed at her with sudden astonishment and doubt, daring to wonder, just for a moment, what it might mean if her words could be true. ‘I wish . . .’ he muttered, ‘I wish I could believe.’
‘Why,’ frowned Nefer-titi, ‘what do you doubt?’
‘You say that you come from a Kingdom in the stars, and that you are a servant of the Aten, come in answer to my prayers. Yet how can I be certain you are not a demon in disguise, arrived here to tempt me?’
Nefer-titi smiled, then gestured out towards the city spread around them. ‘Did you not see,’ she asked, ‘how the very flowers and trees rose to hail my arrival, and how the beasts of the deserts and the fields were in my train? Do you think that my powers could achieve such wonders and not also, O Pharaoh, grant you the gifts of life?’
King Akh-en-Aten gazed at her with longing and a terrible, burning desire. ‘Then it is true?’ he whispered. You are indeed that blessing for which I have prayed to the All-High?’ A moment more he stood frozen; then he surrendered to his desire and Nefer-titi’s embrace. ‘What must I do?’ he whispered. ‘What must I do?’
‘Love me with all your heart.’
‘And that is all?’
The Princess gazed at him deeply. ‘Do you think that we too, who once dwelt in the stars but now dwell here on earth, may not also know what it means to be alone?’
The King met her gaze with wonder; but its depths now seemed immeasurable, and the loneliness he glimpsed there was immeasurable as well, icy and silent like the vast depths of the heavens; and he felt himself chilled, merely to glimpse it. Slowly Nefer-titi lowered her lashes, as though the depths were tears to be blinked away, and then she seized him fiercely, squeezing his hands in her own and almost biting his lips with her kisses. Breaking away once again, she pointed through the leaves of the garden to the sky. ‘Swear it upon the sun,’ she whispered, ‘whose sacred rays give life and light to all the world. Swear to me, O Pharaoh, that you will love me more than all this world.’
‘I swear it willingly,’ King Akh-en-Aten answered.
‘Then I grant you,’ she whispered slowly, ‘those gifts of life you desire. But be warned, for I swear this in turn to you -- should you ever love anything more than you love me, then at that same moment, O my husband, I will leave you for ever.’
King Akh-en-Aten gazed at her in silence, a frown upon his brow, and then he smiled and shook his head, and kissed her once again. ‘We shall never be parted.’ He kissed her once more, gently, on her brow, then turned and left her, and summoned his jeweller, whom he ordered to craft two twin rings of gold. That same evening he brought them to Nefer-titi and showed her the design, which portrayed the disk of the sun with two worshippers beneath. He slipped one on to her finger, and one on to his own. ‘Wear that ring,’ he ordered, ‘and be certain of my love.’
The next day Nefer-titi was proclaimed as Pharaoh’s Queen; and high upon the cliffs, in a ring about the town, her image was sculpted with King Akh-en-Aten’s, so that all who came might bear witness to her beauty, and know that it was she who was the guardian of the realm; and by her image were carved salutes, couched in royal terms: ‘The Heiress, Great of Favour, Lady of Graciousness, Worthy of Love, Mistress of Upper and Lower Egypt, Great Wife of the King, whom he loves, Lady of the Two Lands, She who is the most beautiful of the Beauties of the Aten, Nefer-titi, may she live for ever!’
But at this point, Haroun saw the approach of morning and broke off from his tale. ‘C* Commander of the Faithful,’ he said, ‘if you would care to return here tomorrow evening, then I shall describe to you the fruit of King Akh-en-Aten’s love for his Queen.’
And so the Caliph did as Haroun suggested; and the following evening he returned to the mosque. And Haroun said:
As she had promised she would do, the Queen brought great joy to King Akh-en-Aten, and the blessings of plenty and peace to all his lands. In the fields the crops grew plentiful and rich; upon the Nile the ships were loaded with good things; within the house of every person there was contentment and health, and upon every table in the land a weight of wondrous foods - almonds and nuts, pastries and chickens, sweetmeats and rare fruits, and well-buttered lambs. But most blessed of all, and most filled with joy, was the new city built upon the crescent plain, for there Nature herself seemed at peace with man, so that the beauties of both dwelt together side by side. By its streets could be found every bright-petalled flower, every sweet-smelling plant, every shade-granting tree; and within its gardens and its pools every wondrous kind of animal, every living thing of beauty granted breath by the sun. Nor did the wonders in the city made by man -- all the works subtly crafted from metal, wood or stone -- pale in comparison; for they were rich in splendour, and loveliness, and comfort. The walls were covered with hangings of rose silk, the floors were spread with brightly patterned rugs, and the cooling marble was interlaced with gold; in every hall was a fountain, and in every garden a pool. Never before had so marvellous a city been upraised; and people named it, in astonishment, ‘the Dwelling of the Sun’.
Yet there was no one happier in all that happy city, no one more joyous than King Akh-en-Aten himself. What he had always most desired was now his at last, for the Queen bore him children -- sisters for Smenkh-ka-Re, twin daughters at first, then a third and then a fourth. Carefully nursed upon their mother’s own milk, they grew up blessed by the love of their father, for it was Pharaoh’s greatest pleasure to sit with his family in the shade of his garden, by the side of his Queen. At such moments he would gaze up at the sun and raise a heartfelt cry of thanks, then turn to his Queen and whisper in her ear, ‘Truly, there has never been a man so blessed as me!’ She would smile at this, and make no reply, save to stroke his cheek and kiss him softly. Then one day he turned to her and whispered in her ear, gazing at his children, ‘Truly, they are more precious to me than all of this wide world!’ Again the Queen smiled; but this time she did not kiss him and, as she lowered her eyes, so she veiled the glint of something strange.