Heretic of El Amarna

Chapter 11: Thutmose

I grimaced, feeling ill. Why had I told Nefertiti what I felt about her? Not only that, I myself could not understand the change that had come over me, so how could I expect her to accept it? She probably thought it was all a lie to persuade her to go along with me willingly. It was not, but why would she believe that?

I felt tempted to hit myself over the head with something for the rash behavior I had shown in telling her at all. But then, I probably did not have the energy to do so. I had been feeling weak and sickened all morning, and I had no energy to walk from my room to Nefertiti’s or my mother’s, both women's rooms being about ten or fifteen feet from mine. My room was situated just outside of the women’s section of the palace, but the distance still seemed too much. 

I should have sorted it all out myself first! Better yet, I should simply have kept my heart cold and distant, wanting nothing more than the satisfaction of knowing that my brother could never have her! Instead, I had to go and fall in love with her! You are a thick-headed ox! I berated myself, knowing it did no good, and it certainly did nothing for my stomach, punishing myself like I was.

I sat down on my bed, feeling defeated and weak, as well as sick; I despised weakness and defeat in anyone, and that made it harder for me to bear in myself. I wanted to kick something and scream like a little child throwing a temper tantrum.

Of course, I was too well mannered to do that now, and not only that, I couldn't find the will to do it even had I wanted to.

 I had only thrown a temper tantrum once or twice when I was livid at my mother for denying me something and since then, I had never done it. Those were the only times I could remember my mother taking a switch to me. Usually, Egyptian royalty did not switch their children, but she switched me good then.

Though the whipping hurt, it was not so much the whipping as it was the cold distance I had felt in my mother in both times. She was not angry, but she was not loving towards me like she usually was. Instead, she was separated from me, and I felt estranged from her in those instances.

Yes, the memory was strong enough to keep me from throwing a tantrum again in my younger years. I had only to think of those two beatings to regain control. I rarely yelled or kicked things when I was angry; I was cold and distant, with a quiet menace in my voice that scared most people witless. Nefertiti was the only person who had dared stand up to that wrath apart from my mother and the Pharaoh. Even the other wives and concubines my father kept were scared of me.

My childhood had never been easy, and as the first born of Pharaoh’s Great Wife, Tiye, I was required to learn how to be a leader. I had not taken kindly to challenges of my leadership, even at a young age, and had often exacted punishment on another boy for challenging my authority. I had ruled by my wit and fist when I was younger, and now I ruled on reputation and the general belief that I was fair in most cases.

The opinions were right. I was fierce and willing to exact brutal punishments on those who usurped my command, but I was also fair in the majority of cases. I rarely lost my head and hurt someone with no cause. However, I had been unnecessarily cruel to Nefertiti in retaliation for her stubborn refusal to capitulate to my demands. It was a shortcoming I had to acknowledge in myself. When someone made me angry like that - a thing few did - I was prone to making rash, and often brutal, decisions in the realm of punishments.

I sighed. I needed to apologize, something I disliked since I hated being wrong or being proven wrong. Besides that, I was feeling worse by the minute and my stomach churned. I was not sure I could make it to Nefertiti’s room at all.

But I had to admit, I had been brutal to Nefertiti in more ways than one; an apology to her was in order and I needed to make it.

I walked out of my bedroom on jelly-like legs, trying to keep my stomach from lurching into my throat and went to see her in her rooms.

When I entered she was sleeping on her bed, her curling dark hair spread out like a fan around her, rippling down her wooden headrest. She was breath-taking, and she looked so peaceful in sleep. She did not look fretful like she had the other times I had watched her late at night while she slept in the small room I had imprisoned her in.

I felt a twinge of guilt, a feeling I barely recognized, having buried my conscience deep for many years. Yet it resurfaced now as I watched her sleep. What had I done to her? How could I have been so cruel?

I was shocked at how quickly I could change and how she had wrought such a large change in my heart. She had shaken me to the depths of my soul, and I wondered if it was a good thing or a bad thing that she had shaken me so. The feelings roiling within me only made my stomach worse, and I began to feel a headache coming on as well.

I gently traced the line of her face with my finger - I was struggling not to collapse in pain by then - as I gazed at her perfect, delicate features. She woke with a start, and I moved away from her, almost falling over in the sudden movement, uncertain what she would think of me after the things I had said that morning. Does she still hate me? I wondered, fighting down nausea I had been battling on morning.

She sat up quickly, her expression startled as she gazed at me with her doe-like eyes. They showed fear and bewilderment. “I thought you had duties to complete. You have never visited me this early before. Is something wrong? You aren’t going to put me back into that room, are you?” Her eyes were filled with panic, and her voice trembled.

I knelt down in front of her, feeling queasy, and took her hands. She tensed, but did not take them from mine. “I am not going to put you back into the room and I never will.” I promised. “I’m sorry I ever did that in the first place. I’ve changed, at least about you, Nefertiti. I don’t know how I could possibly have fallen in love with you so quickly. In fact, I don’t know how it happened at all.

"I confess, I had determined that I would not give in at all, no matter how much you begged. Truth be told, I felt spiteful and angry with you from the first. You always mocked me, and it was obvious to me that you preferred my brother. That made me angry. But I want to say sorry to you for the whole thing. I don’t know how to make it up to you, I just know I must!” I told her, feeling a strong conviction that my words must be so.

“I forgive you, Thutmose, but it still does not answer my question as to why you are not with your father. He has not been feeling well, and his teeth were bothering him again last I heard.”

“I know. I haven’t been feeling well today. But I felt that I had to come in spite of that and tell you that I was sorry. I should probably go now. I need to rest and the remedy-man will be looking for me again to give me my remedies and herbal tea.” I told her, already ready to keel over.

She nodded and said, “Alright. Then go back to your rooms and rest. You could be getting the plague or some other illness, and we don’t want you to make it worse by walking around.” She sounded forlorn and despairing.

I nodded and left, wondering about her forlorn despair as I made my way to my room slowly, where I collapsed on my bed before promptly throwing up on the fresh rushes on my floor. Then I fell into a deep sleep.