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THE DESTRUCTION OF AKHET-ATEN


At the end of the story, Lord Nebamun announces his decision regarding Akhenaten's capital city, Ahet-Aten...

        Nebamun sat back beneath the glow of the Aten and waited until the commotion had subsided. He continued calmly, "The tombs in the hills surrounding this city shall be inspected and sealed once more. The families of  those buried there shall be allowed to inventory their contents and send the treasure and the bodies of their kin to safety without fear of Pharaoh's displeasure. I have sent a royal messenger to Thebes with this word, which shall be proclaimed throughout Egypt."
        Khonsu saw that Lord Nebamun was gazing at him. He bowed. "I'll detail a squadron of my best men to close the tombs, Your Grace," he said. "And I'll supervise them, myself."
        "Very good," said Nebamun. "And as for Father Perineb: under his direction, the papyrus in the archives shall be burned and the clay tablets shall be smashed and buried. And all this will start tomorrow."
        "Yes, Your Grace," said Perineb.
        Lord Nebamun took a deep breath and cast a quick glance at the great, golden disk that hung behind him like a gleaming shield. "And, finally, I command the destruction of the city of Akhet-Aten."
        This pronouncement, more than anything that Nebamun had said previously, threw the gathering into an uproar.
        "The city-!" someone shouted.
        "But that would take weeks!" Karoya said to Khonsu.
        Nebamun raised his voice and continued as though no one had spoken. "Any remaining statues of the Pharaoh Akhenaten shall be broken into pieces wherever they are found. The gold shall be stripped from the walls of this palace and throughout this city, weighed and sent north to the royal treasury at Memphis. The cedar doors shall be removed from their hinges and shipped south to Karnak. The bronze fittings at doors and windows shall be removed, and all the carved stone shall be stripped from the walls of the palaces and temples of this place and left by the river for those who need them to use as they see fit. And then we will depart, leaving Akhet-Aten to crumble back to sand and desert."

The preparations have been made, all is ready...

     The southeastern gate of Akhet-Aten was choked with baggage  wagons and men  shifting on their feet and staring wide-eyed back into the heart  of the city.  They were awaiting the word to march south along the Nile half a  day's journey  toward the gap in the eastern cliffs that opened to the city of  Sumneh.    
      They had spent the day piling combustible materials - dried  grasses,  splintered wood, straw and dried reeds - against the walls of the four temples  in the city and then daubing them and the walls with pitch. When that  was  completed, they were sent to the gate to await General Seti's  command.     
      The men turned their backs on the city and gazed south along the  shining river  and spoke of other things until a thread of darkness, crossing the  westering  sun, raised a cry of surprise.  Smoke was drifting southward in a dark plume  away to the north near the heart of the city. The strand of smoke was thin and  fine as it trailed upward to catch the wind; it darkened into a knot of  blackness and flame at the ground.
      "There's fire in the   city!"
      "Where?" asked the priest.
      "To the north:  the desert altars!"
      Wide-eyed, appalled silence fell.
      White-rimmed eyes were raised  to watch the sky as the two dark plumes of smoke  were joined by a third and a fourth. The smoke caught the wind and tangled  together to form a knotted  skein that spread across the sky as the sound of a  great wind seemed to rise and  swell from the heart of the city  itself.
     The priest turned away from the sight. "He's firing  the  temples," he said quietly.                                         

                                                                                         
** ** **
      The fire gulped in air and released it in jets of flame like earth-bound lightning. Tendrils of flame darted in red-gold streaks, racing  across the stones in the courtyards, eddying about the lintels and architraves,  garlanding the temple with fire and smothering it beneath a pall of black, billowing smoke that darted flashes of sullen red  light.
       Lord Nebamun sent his torch spinning into the inferno before him  with a flick of his arm and turned away to face his officers and senior priests.  "It’s done," he said. "Now it’s time to make an end. Go to  the southeastern gate  and take the men to safety, General. Perineb will lead my men from the city under your escort."  
      Seti had been holding a fold of cloth over his mouth and nose.  He lowered it. "Your Grace said you would be joining us!" he  said.
       "I will in good time," Nebamun said.
      The pylon was completely engulfed now, the men and women on its walls cast so swiftly into alternating shade and  highlight that they seemed to be writhing in the heat.     
      Perineb watched the racing flames as they coursed along the  walls with the swiftness of hunting dogs. "'Raising their hands and crying out in the flames',"  he said softly to himself. "It was just as he said..." He  turned back to
Nebamun.  "This was not necessary, Your Grace," he said.     
      Nebamun's eyes were fixed on the flames that swirled around the carved disk of the Aten as though, released from the sun itself, they had come  to life in its temple and were ready to engulf it. The light bathed him in  flickering red so that he seemed, himself, to be made of flame and shadow. The  polished carnelian Udjat charm at  his breast caught the glint of the fire and flung it back like a miniature sun.
      "I judged it best," he said. "He would never have wanted anyone  to be drawn into error through his actions. Sooner than that, he would have destroyed this temple with his own hands. And so I do it for  him."
      "But isn't Your Grace coming with us now?" Perineb demanded.    
      "No," said Nebamun, his voice almost swallowed by the hiss and  roar of the inferno beyond him. The billowing soot had darkened his face. "I  have one matter still to complete," he said, bringing the back of his forearm  across his eyes and smearing the lighter tracks that scored his cheeks." I will  join you when I can."
       "But the fires-"
      "I won't go near them, you have my word," Nebamun said, turning  with a preoccupied smile. "But the matter is pressing. Go now. I'll join you  when I can."    
      Seti turned to look over his shoulder as he passed beneath the  Window of Appearances. He saw Nebamun, framed by the carved limestone, standing  like a shadow against a red-gold tapestry of  flame.
Return to The City of Refuge
  • Welcome
  • My Writing
    • The Memphis Cycle >
      • Purchase Links
      • The Timeline
      • The City of Refuge
      • Mourningtide >
        • An Interview with King Seti, the main character of MOURNINGTIDE
      • A Killing Among the Dead
      • Kadesh Preview >
        • The Division of Amun
        • Brotherly Love (1)
        • The First Wave
        • Counterattack at Shabtuna Ford
      • The Thirty Cubit Crocodile >
        • The Beginning of the Story
        • Seeing the Crocodile
    • The Safeguard >
      • After The Battle
      • At the Union Camp - Requesting a Safeguard
      • Lavinia at Home
      • The Safeguard Arrives
      • The Nightmare Comes
  • Speaking of writing...
    • scrivener stuff
    • bookcover
    • book covers & stock images
  • Purchase Links