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Rated: 13+ · Novel · Action/Adventure · #1552360
The old king dies, and a prince is revealed, along with a dangerous doctrine
Interregnum, Year 849



The blind seer himself had closed the dead king's eyes. They had found Neb ma'Re behind the south portico of the palace, floating in the pool he had loved so much. To ensure complete privacy, the king had commanded it be surrounded by lotuses and acacia plants thus shielding the pool from even the palace itself. Wagging tongues had whispered that this had been done so he could indulge in secret pleasures away from the queen but the seer knew better. Around this pool had been held the birthday celebration of Pharaoh's first son, after which he had never been seen again - at least as far as Pharaoh knew. And here, also, Pharaoh had been informed of the whereabouts of his missing second son, and had recited the poem, "The Man Who Was Tired of Life" for the seer, Thoth and Khaemwaset. Secret pleasures indeed! A more fitting place for Pharaoh's transition to the afterlife the seer could not imagine.

The morning air had been still and quiet, as though Nature herself had recognized the profundity of the moment and had given pause. Though shocked and deeply saddened, all had felt a measure of relief that the king had died in such tranquil surroundings. Amon-hotep had said nothing to dispel such feelings but his inquiry into the astral plane had shown that Pharaoh's last moments had not been easy. The seer had learned that Pharaoh had risen about an hour before dawn and had decided to wade in his favorite pool, having been disturbed by a series of bad dreams caused, undoubtedly, by his inability to forget his deeply painful state visit to Mitanni. While floating on his back staring upwards at the disappearing stars, Pharaoh had experienced sudden, sharp pains in his abscessed teeth. Panicky, he had begun to thrash about in an attempt to right himself when he had been struck by a massive heart seizure and had died instantly. When they had found him, face down in the water, several water lilies had found their way to him, ringing his head like a halo. Ay, stern and uncompassionate as ever, had refused to permit anyone to touch his brother-in-law's body. Stiffly, he had walked down the granite steps, thrusting aside the floating plants as though they had been responsible. Turning the body over, he had carefully inspected the flesh for signs of violence - duty, as always, was his first concern - but finding none, had straightened and shaken his head silently. No one had spoken since he had descended into the water. He had then cradled the limp form in his arms, ignoring the stains in the water from the released excrement, and had carried his king's body out of the pool. Laying it gently on a nearby couch, he had said, to no one in particular, "He is yours," and walked into the palace. None saw him from that moment until the funeral, nor did anyone learn where he had gone or what he had done. Only after he had disappeared had Amon-hotep bent over the body, traced a mystic sign in the air, and then closed the dead king's eyes. His heart earnestly wished that he could shed tears. /But for whom? The dead? Or the still-living?/





"No, Ay, I shall not have myself portrayed as Pharaoh as Hatshepsowe (Hatshepsut), did. I am not in her po-"

"Sister, that is not what I meant. I only refer to the precedent. But Kemet does need a king."

"And she shall have one. But that will be for Sit-Amon. I shall not marry again. Have the scarabs and papyri been prepared?"

"They are almost complete, though I daresay that by the time foreign monarchs receive the news of your assumption as Kemet's temporary head-of-state, it will already be time to inform them of the new pharaoh!"

Tiy smiled a slow, wan smile, and touched her brother's cheek. "And I shall never marry you, not even to the salvation of the Two Lands. I respect you too much for that. Do you know that Dudu has us procreating already?"

"No doubt, sister. But I have told him too many times already - my mouth tires of the words. Let him talk. It will not happen.”

"I sincerely hope not," spoke a third voice. "But it may happen yet."

"Amon-hotep! We did not hear you come in-"

"Nor would you have seen me until now, had you looked. I wished to hear you, unnoticed."

"But why? You are welcome anywhere!"

"I wished to observe and listen, Great Lady, to the discussion at hand. I fear now that you may have to marry your brother and-"

In a moment, Amon-hotep stopped. Incredibly, his tongue suddenly felt like it had been clamped in a vise and he knew that if he continued with his thought, his mouth, perhaps his entire speech mechanism, would become totally unworkable. Outwardly, he seemed to Tiy and Ay to have momentarily paused, as if to gather his thoughts - as was his custom - but inwardly, he realized that unseen hands had stopped him from speaking at a most propitious moment. The meaning was abundantly clear - Ay was not to have the throne. He drew himself up. "Your pardon, my friends. I bring sad news. The Lady Sit-Amon is dead."

Tiy slumped in a chair and buried her face in her hands. Ay glided behind her, gently massaging her shoulders to comfort her. For a long time there was silence. "When she would not come out for her father's funeral, I feared for her," Tiy spoke at last. "Perhaps the gods will grant her the rest that eluded her since - since-"

Both Ay and Amon-hotep understood. From the time Pharaoh had attacked his daughter in a desperate attempt to father another son, Sit-Amon had died a slow death of anguish and shame. Amon-hotep had closed her eyes, too, but now, as he regarded Ay attempting to comfort his sister, a vision sprang to his mind, one so startling and yet so correct that the seer felt that it had been granted by the same unseen hands that had held his tongue. "But do not despair, Great Lady! Your second son lives! He journeys from Heliopolis at this very moment!"

Ay swung around. "SECOND son? Seer, what are you talking about? There WAS no second son, only Thut-"

"There was indeed, Ay," Tiy corrected him. "You were told of a still-born daughter for his protection. My husband decreed that not even you should know, so great was the risk of war with the priests of Amon."

Ay blinked, stunned. He had stood as sentinel directly outside the royal nursery on that very day! The old lion-hunter had been crafty indeed! "Seer, he is truly the son of Neb-ma'Re?"

"He is, Ay."

"And what is his name?"

"Like his father, he is called Amonhotpe, and he is less than two days distant. He shall enter Thebes as a simple traveler with a companion at his side, and shall make his way to my house."

"Then go, Amon-hotep!" Tiy cried. "Welcome my son to your house, then bring him to me!" She hesitated but a moment, tears of anguish mixing with those of unrestrained joy. "Bring my son HOME!"



Janakh bowed her greetings as Aanen, High Priest of Amon came in her direction. She crossed her hands over her heart and was about to speak when the drums boomed once more. An unseen voice called out: "Vizier of the King, Administrator of the King's Estates, Chief Scribe of the Royal House, Chief of the Royal Works, Chief of Conscripts, Hereditary Prince of the Sed Festival, the King's Favorite and High Priest of the Inner Temple - Amon-hotep, son of Hapu, approaches!" The drums boomed once, a final time, and the throne room was still. Many in the chamber, despite their rank, had already sunk to their knees and had pressed their heads to the floor in supplication. "Who IS this man," Janakh marveled, whispering to Aanen, "that such reverence be accorded him?"

Aanen smiled. "Our beloved Amon-hotep is reputed to be the wisest man in all Kemet, and is also the oldest. He has served the royal family in many offices for generations, dating back to the time of the Great One, Men-kheper-Re Dhutmose (Thutmose III) (Life, Prosperity, Health!). Yet for all his deserved honors, the man is completely blind!"

"Blind? And he holds such exalted positions? Truly, he is a wonder!"

Aanen chose not to reply but indicated the great door to the throne room which had just been thrust open. A bald man of medium height entered, clad only in a short trapezoidal apron and sandals, and carrying a walking staff in his right hand. Janakh saw immediately that he used it for balance only, and not to feel his way before him, as ordinary blind men do. But as the man swung his head in her direction, Janakh, High Priestess of Varuna, experienced a shock unlike any she had felt in her entire life. The simple act of beholding the man's face had sent a mighty blow throughout her entire system. It was as though a knife had rent her abdomen, leaving her exposed and vulnerable. She gasped for air, unable to breathe. Why was this happening? She reached for Aanen's shoulder to steady herself, for she had commenced swaying, only to find him completely oblivious to her experience. Indeed, as she looked around, she found herself quite alone in her feelings. No one else was experiencing anything remotely like what she was. Her eyes fell on the Blind Seer a second time and again a thrilling shock surged through her. A shock of...recognition?

Recognition? She had never met the man, yet he seemed intensely familiar to her, like an old and dear friend met once again after an absence of many years. But clearly, that was impossible! She found herself in a daze, desperately trying to control the passions surging through her, and at the same time trying to make sense of it all. Where had-?

"The Lady Janakh, High Priestess of Varuna, from the land of Mitanni," a voice said. She looked up, realizing that she had just been introduced. But to whom? She opened her eyes to see Amon-hotep standing directly in front of her, and if his eyes had possessed vision, they would have stared directly into hers.

She was speechless, aghast. What could she say to him? She felt the knife slide through her afresh, feeling totally naked. And she found herself staring back into the man's eyes, drawn by the power of his aura, and what she now perceived to be flashes of blue-green sparks exploding outward from his eyes. /But not his physical eyes!/ She reminded herself. /That is impossible! He must have opened his ASTRAL eyes-!/

"The Lady is not well?" Amon-hotep inquired earnestly. "You appear flushed-"

"No, no," she replied, finding her voice at last. "I just did not expect-"

The seer paused, uncomprehendingly. "Expect what?"

Janakh shook her head. "I-I don't quite know. You...seemed so familiar, I..." Her voice trailed off.

Amon-hotep smiled. "Perhaps you sensed an inadvertent projection of my psychic self. It happens sometimes." He turned to an aide. "I MUST stop meeting people in this manner. It is MOST disconcerting!" The reception line shook with laughter - all except a confused and embarrassed Janakh. The seer turned back to her, taking her hand and patting it in a fatherly manner. "My Lady, please forgive the rude jest just made at your expense. May your stay in Kemet be a long and joyous one, and may you be welcomed everywhere. Call on me should you require assistance. May all the Neters who watch over this land guide and protect you." And with a reassuring smile, the Seer moved on.

Janakh stared after him, rocked to the very core of her being. With his last few words, the seer's astral eyes had come alive in a shower of vivid blue sparks, a vibration which had quickly found its way to the deepest levels of her heart. She almost collapsed. The energy had opened in her that which she had hitherto believed impossible - a total, unconditional love for a single individual, a love which would be concentrated and focused, yet be the fountainhead for a greater, more universal love to be shared with all of mankind. And she knew, beyond any doubt, that this love could only have been triggered by someone with whom she had shared a vast lineage of previous lives. It seemed incredible, unbelievable, yet it was undeniably true. But as she watched the seer disappear into the crowd, she was stunned to see in his aura no recognition whatsoever of the awareness she had experienced. Amon-hotep was completely closed to the past-life connection, and would be for some time. Janakh determined to find out why. And with that determination, any further desire for xvaetvadatha vanished completely from her being. There would no longer be any need on her part to partake of such a practice, for now she understood fully the greatest Teaching of the Mystery Schools: "Love is ever the Absolute." And as Janakh slowly recovered her equilibrium, she understood the true reason for her coming to the land of the Nile was not simply to teach but TO LEARN, and to participate in a Great Work with the man of her extraordinary Mitannian vision: Amon-hotep, the son of Hapu - the Blind Seer.



"I understand your misgivings, Tiy," Janakh answered quietly, "but please understand that in Mitanni we consider xvaetvadatha a sacred act. Our Holy Books tells us that it is a sure sign of piety in the midst of evil; it atones for one's sins, thus purifying one for entrance into Heaven. It is even recommended when you are afflicted by demons, for it impairs their powers and..."

"Enough! Janakh, please!" Tiy raised her arms as if to ward off one of the demons the Mitannian priestess had spoken of. "If I had comprehended the full extent of your teachings, I would never have asked you here! This is not the way of Kemet; it goes against Ma'at, the proper order of things, against all my people have stood for and believed in!"

Janakh nodded and stood at the window, gazing out at the afternoon sun. She had not come to Tiy's apartments of her own volition - the Queen Mother had summoned her to converse on Mitannian esoteric practices, something Mutemwiya had never discussed with her. The Mitannian priestess felt uneasy - how could she speak for something in which she no longer believed? That she was being used as a vessel for some Higher Purpose, she had been aware since her summons - one could not mistake the ripples in the Astral! But though she had questioned, her priestly training had compelled her to obey, and as she felt the warmth on her skin invigorate her blood, she gave herself over to her task. Her hands glided up her sides to her breasts, gently massaging them and turning the nipples in her fingers until they were hard. Her hips began to sway and she stretched languorously, running her hands through her now-tingling scalp. "You do have brother-sister marriages in your royal line, Tiy, do you not? Is this not permitted?"

"Yes, it is," Tiy replied cautiously, aware of what Janakh meant.

"And is this not the first step?" Before Tiy could reply, Janakh swiftly turned and pressed her advantage. "Mitanni began in this fashion, and when we saw the joys that the manifestation of the doctrine brought to us, we were quick to expand it! We soon realized that the process would bring all our people much closer together - literally, one family! All in Mitanni practice xvaetvadatha for this very reason - and this is why it is the holiest of acts! Xvaetvadatha has truly made us one people, not just in spirit but in the flesh as well!" She stepped to Janakh and grasped her by the shoulders. "I know your son, Tiy. He is destined for greatness; his coming to my country was not an accident! Kemet is in turmoil and needs to be healed. This may be the way. Give it thought!"

Tiy was stunned and speechless. The concept was truly against all she had been taught yet even more startling was a growing realization the she might be willing to consider it. /Why?/ She asked herself. /So alien to me yet so compelling! I-/ she looked up, startled to see Janakh's face inches from her own - were her lips parted as for a kiss? "Janakh, this is very difficult for me. What you say sounds well but I cannot decide immediately. Please, leave me, now. I must be alone for awhile."

Silently, Janakh bowed and left Tiy's bedchamber but she was scarcely out of the room when the shock hit her. The corridor swam before her senses and was replaced by a vision. /No, not a vision!/ She realized. /The immediate future! The consequences of this conversation!/ As she watched, not daring to break away, she saw Tiy light a candle and enter into meditation. Janakh was unsure how much time passed but presently she saw Akhenaten enter his mother's room and converse with her. She thought she heard snatches of the conversation - something about her husband's lack of sexual prowess, his eventual mental and physical debilities, the queen's humiliation in front of royal dignitaries, and Akhenaten's desire for revenge; Janakh did not hear the words but could feel the vibrations most strongly. And she staggered backwards against the wall, the full realization of the vision exploding upon her consciousness, for as she watched, a helpless audience, Akhenaten's eyes blazed as he touched his mother's cheek. Janakh felt Tiy's resolve vanish as if it had never been, and saw the pair, mother and son, rise together and turn toward the bed...



And the blind seer jolted out of his meditation, screaming horribly. The storm-clouds had erupted at last, slashing viciously through his mental landscape and torturing his body with searing pain. He screamed afresh, waving his arms frantically, warding off unseen demons. The incense was deafening and the candle flames clogged his nostrils, gagging him - how could he inhale fire and survive? The horror! The HORROR he had dreaded had come to pass and there was nothing he could do! Spasmodic jolts of pain racked his physical systems and he began to retch; trying to scream again, he gagged, gurgled, and pitched forward, unconscious, knocking over the table upon which had been set the candles and incense...

When Thoth and a temple servant arrived, the hot wax had already set the seer's apron aflame and had burned several patches of his skin. Thoth immediately beat out the flames with his hands, then sent the servant scurrying for ointment to salve his mentor's wounds. He rolled the Seer over, finding him just barely alive, and as he began a mystic healing process over Amon-hotep's lungs, he did not notice the two shadowy presences lingering in an upper corner of the room, their visages contorted with evil and filled with the blackness of the total absence of Light. The perverse faces glowed with darkness as they leered down at Thoth's attempts to revive the seer.



Unbeknownst to the sinister faces, however, they, too, were under observation, from a plane higher than their own, by a flashing emerald orb. Far to the northeast, its owner gazed intently at the scene in his meditation. He knew that he had been commissioned to guard both Amon-hotep and Akhenaten from the black presences, the same pair that had attempted to manipulate Akhenaten's initiation in the Great Pyramid. He scratched his jaw and munched another fig, absently washing it down with sour wine. /Amon-hotep had better wake up soon/ he thought, /and not from just this incident! He should know by now that there are greater issues at stake in this spiritual combat.../



Janakh hurried to her private chamber, devastated by her vision. Had she known the consequences of her conversation with Tiy, she never would have entered into it, despite her vows of obedience to her temple training. And yet a vague sense of accomplishment continued to plague her, as though she had completed a project and was ready to embark on a new and more profound one. She entered her room and flung herself upon the bed, amazed to find her eyes brimming with tears. She HAD been right to speak with Tiy for she was the agent of... /Agent of what?/ The thought continued to tear at her as she fell into a deep yet uneasy slumber...
© Copyright 2009 David-Michael Christopher (scorpecrit at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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