Storm in the Sky by Libbie Hawker

Author:Libbie Hawker [Hawker, Libbie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Running Rabbit Press

Baketaten

Year 13 of Akhenaten,

Beautiful Are the Manifestations,

Exalting the Name,

Beloved of the Sun

“Stay a moment, won’t you?” the Pharaoh said quietly in Baketaten’s ear.

The ceremony to welcome the Aten’s morning rays had just concluded, and although the day was still quite young, already the interior of the Great Aten Temple was warming to an uncomfortable degree. Sweat collected under Baketaten’s wig, trapped against her skin by the snug band of gold at her brow, and more trickled down her sides to dampen the linen of her white robe. But she smiled at the king, and nodded in acquiescence to his wishes.

Meritaten cast a sulky glance in Baketaten’s direction as she herded her sisters—each as naked as she was—toward the temple’s soaring gate. Meritaten’s dark glances had increased in frequency and severity since Baketaten claimed her title as King’s Wife. No doubt, the girl was jealous of the affection the Pharaoh showered on his new bride. Baketaten gave a soft sigh, an acceptance of the inevitable foolishness of children. Meritaten may be a King’s Daughter, but she was still quite young. More to the point, Meritaten hadn’t the benefit of Tiy’s guidance. Tiy had turned Baketaten into a careful thinker, a keen observer—and she felt certain that Meritaten saw nothing more of the world around her than whatever was on its thin, inconsequential surface. She looked no deeper than her own petty envy, and resented the endearments and sweets, the casual affections the Pharaoh gave liberally to Baketaten. The king’s time was limited, and whatever attention he paid to Baketaten meant neglect of his eldest daughter’s vanity and pride. Those regrettable traits were already full-flowered in Meritaten’s ka.

Baketaten shrugged, and Meritaten rolled her eyes and turned away, striding forcefully through the sand, dragging the reluctant Ankhesenpaaten by the hand. The other girls followed like goslings after a goose.

Baketaten nearly laughed aloud at the foolishness of it all. She had no thoughts to spare for the offended Meritaten. There were far heavier matters weighing on her heart, and a great duty to be done. Let every girl in the City of the Sun drown in her own petty whims. Baketaten cared nothing for Meritaten’s wounded pride, or for the tender feelings of any other girl. She had her work ahead—divine work, and no one but she could do it.

“Your worship of the Aten is magnificent,” the Pharaoh said when they were alone with the silence and the heat.

Baketaten turned her face demurely down. Waves of the sun’s fire reflected up from the temple floor, striking her cheeks and forehead. “You flatter me too much, my lord. I only do as my heart directs. How can one not give praises to the sun when it shines so brightly and fills all the world with its power?”

“Yes—yes!” Akhenaten gripped her by the shoulders and gazed tenderly into her face. “That is just as I’ve always said. But only you seem to truly understand, Baketaten. Only you seem to feel as I do.”

She smiled up at him, squinting against the sun’s glare.

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