The Truth About Tut

Throughout the years, many have speculated at the cause of King Tutankhamen's death. Some believe it was murder, some believe the wrath of the gods. I am Nexeu Tutankhamen, son of Kamiliah Gyasi, and this is the true account of the life and death of the great King Nebkheperure Tutankhamen...

The young king turned over sluggishly in his bed, shielding his eyes from the harsh sunlight. On most days he would already be up and about by this time, but today his heart was burdened more so than usual and he could not bring himself to move. He groaned as he remembered the events of the day past, and turned suddenly to see if Ankhesenamun had gone. No one lay in the bed next to him. He breathed a sigh of relief. His wife had come to him in the night and he had not denied her, for an heir had not yet been produced. How he wished that it had. He loved Ankhesenamun beyond doubt, but he still loved her as the half-sister she had been until his ninth birthday. He had not wished to marry her, but as always, tradition had prevailed.
As he lay back again, he noticed a girl standing next to the wall placing a pitcher of water on a marble table. He pulled himself into an up-right position so he could have a better look at her. There stood the most beautiful thing he had yet seen in his short lifetime. She was medium-height with darkly tanned skin and luscious, nearly black hair hung to her elbows. He could not resist the temptation to talk to the amazing creature before him.
"What is your name?"
"Me?" she asked. He nodded slightly.
"Kamiliah Gyasi, sire," she answered shyly, her cheeks glowing a faint pink. She curtsied and turned to leave.
"Wait. Come here." She sighed and turned hesitantly toward the handsome king. He held his arm out and motioned for her to join him on the bed. Sitting down on the edge, as far away as possible, she attempted to make herself relax. Nebkheperure looked at the woman sitting next to him and resisted the urge to take her into his arms and never let go. He let his eyes linger on her flawless face. She had a pair of brown almond eyes beneath perfectly arched eyebrows that were not aided by the familiar paint of royalty, and remarkably plump lips beneath her small nose. Her eyes caught his for but a moment before he moved on to examine the rest of her body, savoring every delicate inch. As he reached to touch her bronzed arm, all the weight he had previously known was lifted. She tensed noticeably at his touch, and he removed his hand. This marvelous girl was different, and she would come to him. She would not be violated as one of his father's concubines. He had the same power and authority, yes, but he had yet to use it and would not start with Kamiliah Gyasi.
Regretfully and hesitantly he said, "You may go." Kamiliah locked eyes with the king, a look of profound thanks in hers, and stood to leave. Nebkheperure closed his eyes as if to remember her in that way forever. When he opened them again, she was gone.

* * *

Amunet was moving busily around the kitchen when Kamiliah stepped in. She noticed the worried look in her young daughter's eyes. "How was your day dear?" The girl took no notice, but simply kept walking. "Kamiliah?"
She turned around to face the woman, "Yes mother?"
"Is anything wrong? What happened?"
Kamiliah knew a moment of panic at her mother's inquiry. "Of course nothing is wrong mother." Without waiting for a response, she went to her room and, sitting on the floor, pondered the events of the day. Why had King Tutankhamen acted the way he did? And why hadn’t he forced himself upon her? Would he? She knew that she must stay clear of him at all cost. Her thoughts were interrupted when her mother stepped into the doorway.
"What happened today, Kamiliah?"
"Mother –"
"Kamiliah," Her mother looked at her with those eyes that seemed to know all and allowed no excuse.
With a deep sigh, she shared all: "Today when I went into King Tutankhamen's chamber to perform my duties, he took notice of me and called me to him. He did not do more than stroke my arm, but I fear he may do more if given the chance."
Her mother's eyes wide, she responded, "You are but a girl! And unmarried at that! Surely he will not violate you."
"Alas, I fear he may do just that."
"We must tell your father of this. Rashidi!" She called for her husband.
"No mother! Do not, I beg you! Do not tell father! Nothing will happen, I'm sure of it. Please don't tell him. He will not allow me to keep my place in the palace. Give me a chance." Even as her father neared the room, she pleaded with her mother and she fought back the tears that threatened. For years she had wanted a job in the palace, and she had gotten it. She absolutely refused to let it go.
Her father burst into the room, "What is it Amunet? Is anything wrong?"
Amunet looked into her daughter's wet eyes, "I'm sorry dear, it was nothing. I thought I saw a snake, but I guess it was just in my head."
"Well, alright." He looked briefly at Kamiliah and left.
"Oh thank you mother! Thank you! You will not be sorry!" She hugged her mother tightly. Amunet stood, glanced at her daughter and went back into the kitchen. Kamiliah lay down on her bed and thought long and hard about the following day.

* * *

The king had thought of little else than the dark-haired beauty since the week before when he'd first seen her. She hadn't come back to his chamber since that day, and he began to wonder what was keeping her. Surely she hadn't neglected her duties for fear of him. Kamiliah. He let the word roll off his tongue and decided that, yes, he did like it. Very much in fact. Kafele, a page in the palace, walked by on his way to see out one of his many daily duties. "You! Boy!" He turned sharply at the king's call.
"Yes, sire?"
"What do you know about a Kamiliah Gyasi"
The boy froze at the mention of his younger sister's name. "What do you mean sire?" was all that he could manage.
"Where is she? She is still employed here in the palace, is she not?"
"Yes sir, she is. She has been transferred to another line of duties away from your chambers." He said, a trace of resentment in his voice.
"Well then, see to it that she is transferred back to her original duties at once. I wish to see her."
"Yes, sire." The boy dropped his head and went on his way. Yes, King Tutankhamen thought, he would have her soon. Surely he wouldn't have to wait too much longer. He had been understanding thus far, but he was growing restless. Very restless indeed.

* * *

After he was away from the king, Kafele had run as quickly as he could to find his sister. He had told her all that King Tutankhamen had said to him and he saw the despair in Kamiliah's eyes. Now she walked toward the chambers that she had vowed to her mother and herself not to enter ever again. But what choice did she have? The king had ordered her. She dare not defy him. As she entered into his room, he was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps he had changed his mind. Yes, that's it. He changed his mind. I can go then. Yes, I'll leave.
She turned to go, but was blocked by a wall of a man that was Tutankhamen. He grabbed her wrists and she looked slowly into his deep brown eyes. Here was the man that she had so feared. And as she stood, nearly in his arms, she realized that he was little more than a boy. He was physically as large as any man, but he was only a bit older than her. She looked into his eyes and saw the eyes of someone who was nearly as confused as she was. Instead of fear and hate, she felt a sense of compassion for this man who was destined to rule the great nation of Egypt. Nothing happened. They just stood there, staring at each other like there was no world. They were the only ones that existed at that moment. Standing on the tips of her toes, she tilted her head back and allowed the young king to kiss her full upon the lips. She pulled back and searched his expression. He looked down on her with a look that she was unable to discern and took her into his arms and kissed her again several times over. Kamiliah though that her heart would beat out of her chest if he didn't let go soon. "Sire, please," was discerned and he let her go.
"Dearest Kamiliah, please, call me Nebkheperure." With that, he started to pull her near to him again.
"Please don't."
"What is it? Have I done something wrong?"
"No. It's just, I've never done anything like that before...and, well, I just don't want to rush."
He stepped back and looked at the beautiful girl – no, woman – that was standing before him. Dare he let this marvelous creature out of his grasp? Yes, he decided. She was worth it.

* * *

Kamiliah silently opened the door and stepped into her house. She prayed to the gods that her mother would not hear her. "Kamiliah?" She cringed at the sound of the omniscient voice of her mother. "Kamiliah? Is that you dear?"
"Yes mother, it's me."
"Oh, Kamiliah! I've been waiting for you! Your brother told me that the king asked to see you. Is this true?"
"It is."
"And what did he do?"
"Nothing. He just wanted to find out how I was doing, since he had not seen me since that day last week."
"Oh, alright then." Kamiliah passed her mother and went to her room. She truly hated lying to her mother, but had she any other choice?

* * *

On the following morning, Kamiliah woke with the sun, readied herself, and ran to the palace. After passing the guards, she hurriedly made her way to the king's chambers. As she rounded the corner into his bedchamber, she realized that he was still abed, even at this late hour. Thinking of what to do next, she neared the bed and made herself comfortable on the edge of it. She stared lovingly into her sleeping king's face. But, alas, he would soon be more than her king. Leaning in over him and kissing him, she saw him stir in his sleep and his brown eyes opened to greet her. "Kamiliah, you've come to see me."
"I have."
He sat up on his elbows and looked at her. "I was not sure that you would come back."
"What reason do I have not to?"
"Kamiliah." He leaned forward and took her up in his arms, kissing her passionately, and, of course, she kissed him in return. Though she had yet to admit it, she loved his kisses. She loved the way that he held her in his muscular arms. She loved the way he loved her.
Suddenly they heard a loud female voice booming down the hallway. "Kiya! Hurry up with that basin!"
"Nebkheperure, your wife! She comes even now!" Kamiliah began to panic, for she knew that at any moment Ankhesenamun would come in and see them. She stood up and positioned herself beside the bed. A tall, dark, slender woman came into the room. She looked older than Kamiliah had expected, no doubt older than her husband.
"What is this? Nebkheperure? What is going on?"
"I wish to be left alone today, wife. I have other plans."
"Well, dear king, you are needed in the throne room, so your plans shall have to wait," she said with a hint of sarcasm and a foul look for Kamiliah.
"So I am. Well, I'll be along shortly." The woman threw one last glance in Kamiliah’s direction and left.
"I must go Kamiliah, but I will send for you."
"Of course." She said, her pain evident.
"Darling Kamiliah." He kissed her hard on the mouth and walked out of the room.
She stood for several minutes as if in a daze, trying to comprehend what would happen if he did send for her. What was to her and this man she called her king?

* * *

Rashidi Gyasi had been working hard in the field outside of his home. As the sun began to set, he wiped his forehead on his arm and started inside. Before he could open the door, a ragged little boy with black hair ran up to him, "Mr. Gyasi! Mr. Gyasi! I have a message!"
Rashidi turned and faced him, "What have you there, Jacob?"
The Hebrew boy stood for several seconds as he caught his breath. "Sir, a message for your daughter from the king."
"The king?" Rashidi said with a puzzled look on his face. "What business could the king have with Kamiliah?" He took the letter from the boy and, after thanking him, went inside. "Kamiliah!"
Kamiliah ran towards his voice, "Yes father? What is it?"
"A message from the king."
She stopped dead in her tracks before slowly taking it from her father's tan hands. "Thank you father." She went to her room and opened the message from the king. There was one sentence:
"Meet me at the hill?" There was only one hill that she knew of. She pondered whether to go or not, and decided on the former. She ran out of the house with no more than a quick, "I'll be back later!"
Her mother followed her out the door. "Kamiliah!" But she ran and did not turn back.

* * *

Nebkheperure sat on the hill wondering if he would be sleeping alone. Would Kamiliah come? Of course she'll come! With that thought lingering, he heard a voice, "Nebkheperure! Are you there?"
"Here Kamiliah!"
He watched as her head came up over the side of the low hill. "You've come."
"Of course I did." She walked nearer to him. Her mind was made up. He stood to meet her and when she was in front of him, she reached up and pulled his head down so that she could kiss him. "Since when do kings have meetings on the sides of hills, sire?"
"Since today, my love." He bent to pick her up and she went willingly into his strong arms.

* * *

Kamiliah stood in the field outside her house, her hand resting on her rounded stomach. It had been eight months since the first time that she had slept with King Tutankhamen and she had become pregnant on that night. They had continued to see one another until she began to show signs of pregnancy. The king and she had decided to communicate through letters until she had given birth. His wife could not find out that there was a child. Kamiliah missed her dear Nebkheperure beyond reason, but nothing could be done. On this day, her father had again lectured her on the fact that she was about to have a child out of wedlock. And so, there she stood, thinking of her beloved. I wonder what he's doing right now. But the sweet thought was cut off by a sudden pang in her stomach. "Mother! Mother, come quick!"

* * *

Nathifa Babafemi looked lovingly into the eyes of Nexeu Tutankhamen, the child she had been given charge of. Kamiliah walked away and joined Nebkheperure. "Remember Nathifa, no one must ever know," the king said with authority and regret. The child would have been fine for other kings, but his wife was unpredictable and occasionally violent.
"Yes, sire." She walked away carrying their beautiful baby boy whom they could never see again. Eventually, he would come to know of his royal heritage, but for now he was the son of Nathifa Babafemi. Kamiliah buried her face in Nebkheperure's chest and cried until there were no more tears left. He led her back into his bedchamber and sat her on the bed.
"There, there, my love. It will be all right."
"I know." She looked up longingly into her lover's eyes and he kissed her forehead, letting her cry. Suddenly, there was a noise at the doorway. There stood Ankhensenamun, scimitar in hand.
"Ankhensenamun! What is this?"
"I've had enough, Nebkheperure! I'm tired of seeing the way you two look at each other with such love in your eyes! Why don't you look at me that way? Don't you love me?" she said, a crazed look in her eyes.
"Of course I love you, darling." Kamiliah looked up, eyes wide as the woman inched closer to them. "Please, Ankhensenamun! Don't do -"
She stared at the bloodied bodies. "You can come in now." A tall, muscular man came into the room. "Help me get her out of here. We'll bury her in the treasury chamber of her lover's tomb." She threw her head back and laughed a wicked laugh. Then she bent, along with the man, and carried the lifeless body of Kamiliah Gyasi outside. They had a long night ahead of them.

...And that, my friends, is the true story of the death of my father, King Tutankhamen.