Light of Aten

Just a quick "slice-of-life" piece, which may/may not spin off into that historical fiction novel I keep promising myself I'll write one of these days. Originally a response to a college assignment.

“Truly outstanding work, Thutmose.”

Pharaoh Akhenaten bent down to inspect the line of his wife’s jaw one more time. His pale eyes narrowed into a painful-looking squint and I sighed apologetically, struggling not to choke on the dust spirals kicked up by our feet in our little dance around the sculpture. The light in my workshop was not ideal, and if I could not afford a tiered skylight then a proper housekeeper -- or even a slave -- was certainly out of the question…

“Absolutely remarkable! It looks just like her.”

The breath I’d been holding practically exploded from me. “Th-thank you, Your Majesty!”  I bowed as low as I could manage, biting the inside of my cheek when a stabbing pain in my neck brought me up short.

After several months, and many nights, hunched over my workbench, I was ready to take a sabbatical from my sculptor’s workshop and indulge in a stay at the mud baths in Memphis. The damned students could teach themselves for a few weeks. It was not as if their parents paid me the full value of their apprenticeships, in any case.

A more respectable master would really have a decently-lit workshop. Open windows, multi-level blinds on the ceiling that would close against the rain, perhaps a chair…

Rubbing my eyes did nothing to soothe the headache building behind them.

The pharaoh himself was in my shop and I didn’t have a damned chair.

I was fortunate that Akhenaten didn’t have me flogged as the proprietor of a public eyesore, let alone that he had chosen to become my patron… and if I ever forgot that fortune, my wife was often conveniently on hand to remind me. It was further fortune that her mother had chosen this very morning to fall gravely ill, else I might have also had to contend with the censuring stares from my lovely Satsobek during this trial.

I would have to remember to pay tribute at Thoth’s shrine on my way home, in gratitude for His very thoughtful gift; a mortal man could only be expected to handle so much at once, after all.

Remorse tugged at me as I pictured my poor wife managing three children, an ailing mother, and her household, while I stood here praising the luck she likely damned at this very moment.

On further thought, perhaps I would take her to the mud baths as well.

Provided I was alive at the end of this meeting.

Akhenaten squinted and frowned, pointing to the dull limestone socket as he stepped closer. “It seems to be incomplete here… Her eye. Where has it gone?”

“Ah, yes…”

What to say to that?

Sorry, but your wife’s eye was crushed beneath the heel of a clumsy ox named Meru?

Or perhaps, Apologies, Highness, but we seem to have developed a last-second shortage of quartz…?

“I’m afraid there was a mishap earlier today,” I offered, my gaze flicking hesitantly between Akhenaten’s own piercing scrutiny and that of the iaret on his crown. The snake’s beady stare transfixed me like a mouse, floundering momentarily for words as I also tried to recall the proper way to breathe.  “One of my students asked for further instruction on the proper shaping of an eye, and I am afraid I did not guide him with enough care…”

“Ah! Say no more.” The king waved a hand dismissively, the effigy’s damaged vision evidently already forgiven. “Without mistakes, how would we learn?” He stepped back, nodding at me as his brow furrowed. “You have the materials you need to construct a replacement, yes?”

“Oh, yes, Majesty!” I said, bracing myself against the bench as I straightened. Curbing the impulse to place a supporting palm against my lower back, I forced a relieved smile through the twinges. “More than enough materials, to be sure! Daily do I sing of your benevolence and generosity…”

“Hush, Thutmose.”

The Son of Aten clapped my shoulder, and though the mild percussion was soothing to the tortured muscles beneath, I worried against possible damage to his delicate hand. Thin, spider-like fingers squeezed into my flesh before releasing me. He smiled jovially at me, and though the thin line between his brows and the lines at the corners of his still-narrowed eyes remained, I could detect the flickering light of amusement in them.

“I think it is excellent that you should use the Great Royal Wife’s image to shape the minds of Amarna’s future artists.” Grasping me fully by the shoulders with his arms extended, Akhenaten continued. “I shall have you make a second likeness for display at the palace! My Nefertiti must have a complete representation of her beauty, no?” He winked. “But this one… this one you shall keep for your own use, with my compliments. If your students are half as talented as you, Thutmose, I shall soon have an army of skilled artists to bring about Egypt’s golden age!”

I blinked slowly, unsure how to respond to such fervor.

Surely there must be some catch to this outpouring of favoritism? I had done nothing to deserve the king’s grace… nothing at all, I was certain of it. In fact, had Akhenaten’s litter not collided with a mule cart outside my own humble workshop in the rent sector -- some daydreaming slave, who was most certainly and efficiently beaten after the scene had been cleared, was no doubt responsible -- I would still be chiseling away in obscurity, wondering how under Ra’s sun I was going to pay for another month in this overstuffed closet…

Clearly, this was not how Akhenaten expected me to react. The young king lowered his hands and stepped back a pace, his angular face drawn in confusion. Behind him, the scowl on the face of the guard hovering in the room’s entrance grew a little deeper, its foreboding underscored by the shadows.

“You do not wish my most elevated queen’s blessing on your… establishment?” The last word ended in the trademark upward lilt of the young, reinforced by the look of conference he sent to the thug in the doorway.

Obviously chosen for his pectoral muscles and his ability to forego verbal communication, the large royal guard allowed one meaty hand to drift meaningfully toward the hilt of the sickle at his side.

“Of course I do!” I said quickly, holding both of my hands up as I fell to my knees, prostrating myself at his sandaled feet. The dust tickled my throat, tempting me to wretch over filthy royal toes.

If I valued my life, I would keep from doing exactly that.

“Your majestic heart is as open as the sky! Your devotion is as unending as Aten’s love…” I gasped, my lips rasping against the rough leather thongs, catching on the lapis lazuli scarab cabochons.

“Oh, do get up,” my pharaoh interrupted, his disgust for my respect baffling to me as he reached down to help me up.

I hesitated before allowing him to do so; to touch a royal was to mark your own death. The expression on his guard’s face concurred with this assessment, but the walking mountain maintained his post. Death mark or no, he was his master’s dog.

“As if you kneel at the feet of Aten, anyway…” the pharaoh gently chided me under his breath as he brushed his palms against one another, brisk clouds of dirt exploding upward like dust plumes from a quarry. He winked, the kohl at the corner of that eye smudging his skin in dew from the heat. “‘Child of Thoth.’”

Without water, my throat may as well have contained tiny shards of pottery; swallowing brought unbidden tears to my eyes and I blinked furiously to clear them as I looked up at him. “I-I am ever a servant of Your Gracious Majesty, Son of the One True God, and Light of…”

“Oh, that is enough, Thutmose, truly…” Akhenaten clucked his tongue and shook his head. “I won’t have a man killed for his beliefs.” At my nervous glance, he added, “And neither will Nakhti here, no matter what his baser instincts.”

Nakhti merely inclined his head in submission to his lord, not taking his eyes off of me.

Swallowing was still very painful, but I could not help myself.

“You are a creature of the old religion, and I respect that,” Akhenaten said. “Clearly, your gods have favored you with amazing gifts, far beyond those I have seen before, from men born to far higher stations…”

“Yes, Majesty,” I agreed, lowering my gaze. “I know that I am but a speck of dust…”

“I was not finished.” Akhenaten’s face contorted in a delicate scowl. “Do you interrupt everyone this way? It’s very distracting.”

“Yes, Majesty… I-I mean, no, Majesty…”

“As I was saying…” Akhenaten frowned, looking from me to his guardsman. “What was I saying?”

“Men born to far higher stations,” Nakhti supplied solemnly.

So he could speak. I tilted my head in instinctive acknowledgement of this evolutionary accomplishment.

“Yes,” Akhenaten’s thin fingers flipped over his shoulder in Nakhti’s direction. He shrugged his cotton tunic over bony shoulders. “You are a man of amazing talents, Thutmose, son of Djehuti.” He was silent a moment as he contemplated me, finally nodding as he seemed to come to a decision. “You shall be the official royal sculptor. You will be in charge of the statue gardens at the palace, oversee the inscriptions in the royal halls…” Akhenaten snapped his fingers, abruptly bringing me out of the disbelieving daze I had sunk into as he thought of something else equally brilliant. “And you will design the statues for the city gates! Giant things, taller than dozens of men stacked atop each other’s shoulders! I want my wives and me to be able to… to reach up and touch Aten Itself!”

His passion stole the wind from my body. I belatedly realized that my king was awaiting an appropriately enthusiastic response, his hands lifted in wide acceptance of the heavens’ offerings. An expression of naked zeal and expectation lay on his hairless face, his striped teal-and-indigo nemes fluttering in the meager breeze from the tiny window by the bench.

“Y-yes, Your Majesty,” I said.

“Good!” Akhenaten beamed at me with a smile that had too many teeth in it. “Then, perhaps, you can finally earn a wage equal to your gifts, eh?” He turned and ascended the small staircase, waiting as Nakhti stepped out of the doorway to allow him to pass. He stopped and stared at me for a moment, his brow lifted expectantly.

Startled, I blinked and rushed to follow. He wanted me to come with him?

I feared I might vomit after all, immediately mourning my aborted royal career…

“And then,” Akhenaten was saying, “you can afford a better workshop than this. Because -- and I’m sure Nefertiti and Kiya would agree -- this is a hovel, Thutmose…”

 

The End

Reviews

[SLD Bailey]

I agree with escherlight; the details you've incorporated ground the reader in the period and lend your writing an authenticity that a piece of this ambition needs in order to be successful, and you balanced this well with the more modern aspects of the dialogue so that it didn't become too esoteric to follow. The characters were vividly portrayed and easily distinguishable from each other. The tongue-in-cheek moments were well executed too, and made reading it a pleasure. I would definitely read the next installment, were you to upload one *hinthint* ;)

[Kella Shiells]

Thanks, SLD! I like to balance my drama with quirky humor wherever possible. ;) I'm currently spinning plates on three projects at once, because I have no sense of cognitive self-preservation... but if I ever finish one of them, this will be the next thread I pick up! Good to know it's strong enough!

[SLD Bailey]

ha ha, know that feeling all to well - I really struggle to commit to a project (cognitive self-preservation be damned!). Good luck on all your other writing ventures though! You've got a real talent.

[Kella Shiells]

Thanks! I started putting up another project that I've been letting idle for a while. I'm wrapping up another first draft at the moment, but once that gets to editing stage, I'll be ready to pick up the narrative on this next book.. which is 1/3rd to halfway done. ;) http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/kellawrites/1392131/

[A. Amos]

Enjoyable read and looking forward to your new post....

[escherflight]

Convincing authenticity in the detail. I liked the interplay between them, Akhenaten resenting Thutmose's servility but also demanding it.

[Kella Shiells]

Thank you! I had hoped that would come across well, just in case I ever did decide to pick it back up... wanted the characterization already established strongly enough in my head that I didn't have to worry about it later. ;)