Chapter Twenty-Seven
Lagus had no idea how his Pharaoh managed to remain conscious let alone keep himself in a standing position within the chariot as they made their galloping approach towards the palace gates. He had been bearing weight on a broken leg for the better part of four days and the physical stress the effort was causing his body was beginning to become manifest. It was quite clear that the young king was in excruciating agony, yet it was also clear that something greater than the pain was spurring Tutankhamun onward. He was riding on pure adrenaline at the moment. After all, it wasn't every day that a man learned he had just become a father.
They received the news by messenger on their second grueling day of travel across the desert. Following the victory against the Mitanni which had ended with the death of King Tushratta and a grave injury to the Pharaoh, Tutankhamun had insisted that he and Lagus leave immediately in order to thwart whatever plans the high priest had in mind for him. However, Lagus had suspected that Tutankhamun's urgency had less to do with Amun and more to do with a certain village girl from Amurru who carried his child.
Regardless, he had not argued with Tutankhamun but had readied them both for the taxing journey back to Thebes. On the second day, however, when it became clear that Tutankhamun was very near to collapse, Lagus had finally managed to convince his stubborn king to take a much needed break. It had been the commander's hope that the Pharaoh would have at least a full day's rest before they resumed their grueling pace. That hope disintegrated with the messenger's arrival in their camp. Upon learning that Suhad had given birth, Tutankhamun's determination to return to Thebes without delay only increased tenfold. For him, the news was a fitting end to the victory he had attained.
Not only had he vanquished the Mitanni threat with his daring ingenuity and military tactics but he had unified his men and gained the respect of the entire army, including that of General Horemheb. By the conclusion of the battle, Tutankhamun had already determined that he would pardon the man for his crimes. However, by the end of the night when the general took it upon himself to personally fashion a makeshift splint for his pharaoh's shattered thigh bone, Tutankhamun was certain he could count the general as his friend. And now he had learned that his child had been born, a son and future heir to his throne. He had attained all he had set out to do except for one important detail: he would finally make Suhad his wife.
And therein lay the true reason behind his hurry to return to Thebes. Yes, the high priest was very likely plotting against him at that very moment but Tutankhamun's greatest concern was reaching Suhad's side. He wanted to hold her again. He wanted to lie down next to her and feel her breath stirring against his skin. He wanted to see his son and hold him in his arms. And he wanted to spend the rest of his life basking in the joy they had both brought into his life. It was that all encompassing desire that kept him from succumbing to the pain radiating through his entire lower half right then. He pushed past the agony because he knew there was something better waiting for him. There would be time for medicine, treatment and rest later...after he reunited with Suhad and his son.
When they finally began to slow in front the grand palace entrance, Tutankhamun didn't even wait for Lagus to stop the chariot completely before he was lurching forward and attempting to step down from the vehicle unassisted. Lagus caught him before he could go tumbling, looping Tutankhamun's arm about his neck in order to steady him so that he could assist the impatient Pharaoh up the palace steps. Tutankhamun stumbled several times, yelping aloud each time he placed too much weight on his injured leg. Still, that did not keep him from breaking away from Lagus the instant his bedchamber came into view and limping off on his own.
He hardly felt any pain at all as he burst through the tall double doors into the inner portion of his chamber. The torchlight was low but even in the dimness he could make out Suhad's silhouette on the bed. She lay propped against the pillows, her hands folded across her abdomen, her face in the perfect, peaceful repose of sleep. The corner of his mouth lifted in a crooked smile as he looked upon her, imagining the prospect of waking her with a kiss. His smile only widened when he noted the basinet at the bedside that, no doubt, cradled his sleeping son.
His heart brimming with love and excitement, Tutankhamun limped forward and approached the basinet, sneaking a careful peek down at his son. He lay swaddled in his blankets, his small face relaxed and peaceful in sleep. Tutankhamun suspected his feelings were dredged in bias but he was quite sure that his son was the most beautiful child ever created. He was still too young to have any real distinctive features belonging to either of his parents but Tutankhamun imagined that he could see Suhad there, particularly in the curve of his nose and his lower lip.
Shaking with awe, Tutankhamun stretched out his hand to sift his fingers through the baby's silken swirls of hair before bending down to drop a light kiss to his forehead, careful not to wake him. However, the instant he touched his lips to the baby's alarmingly cool skin, he knew immediately that something was wrong. Tutankhamun pulled back with a deep frown.
With quickened breaths filled with burgeoning dread, he began skimming his fingers over the baby's forehead and cheeks before finally tugging away the blankets to determine whether or not his son was actually breathing. When he realized that he wasn't, he scooped the infant against his chest, sobbing harshly when the infant merely hung there limply in his arms. His mind was racing with dozens of questions as to "why" and "how" even as he was in denial that the child was actually dead.
"No...no...no...no...please, no..." he wept brokenly, unable to fathom how he had gone from such incredible happiness to such debilitating grief in so short a period. Overwhelmed with the magnitude of the loss, Tutankhamun pressed several lingering kisses to his son's head, murmuring sweet words of love against his skin, before carefully placing him back into his bed and covering him with gentle hands, as if he were only sleeping.
Tutankhamun stumbled back a step with a small yelp of anguish, his heart pounding with unnamed panic and fear when he thought of waking Suhad with the news that their son had passed on into the afterlife. He bounced an apprehensive glance over to her, unable to even formulate in his mind how he would ever deliver such crushing news...only to gradually come to the realization that Suhad was as gone from his world as his son.
He didn't need to get closer to her to recognize that she was dead. While she had appeared to be sleeping from a distance, Tutankhamun could now see the truth clearly with more proximity. No matter how perfectly arranged her body had been, the trauma she had suffered was evident in the bruises and injuries that marred her face and body. Her eyes were ringed with dark color, the rich hue of her smooth, bronze skin already fading to an ashen gray. Tutankhamun stumbled to the bed with a keening cry, falling across her body with bitter, broken sobs.
"I'm sorry...I'm so sorry, my love..." he wept into the crook of her throat, "...I promised I would protect you both and I failed... I failed you...and I failed our son... Forgive me...please, forgive me..." He kissed her lips, her eyes, her cheeks, his tears spilling over her cooling skin as he whispered apologies to her again and again.
"I am so sorry, my lord." Tutankhamun jerked upright at the intrusion of Ay's gruff offer of condolence, his expression nothing short of devastated. He regarded the vizier with a haunted look. "She and the boy passed from this world only a short time ago."
"I know this was not the will of the gods," Tutankhamun managed hoarsely, "This was man's doing. Tell me what happened to them." When he received no immediate answer to that, he demanded more forcefully, "What happened, Ay?" He impaled the vizier with dark eyes hardened with gathering rage and glistening with unshed tears. "Answer me! Look at me and tell me why Suhad and my son are dead!" The vizier met his eyes then and the answer Tutankhamun found in his expression only served to confirm what he already knew.
Impervious to the constant pain throbbing through his leg, Tutankhamun hopped from the bed and went stalking down the steps of the dais, his sole intent to find Ankhesenamun. He didn't have to look too far for her. She sat on the steps just outside the sacred hall, her head bent and shoulders stooped with resolve, as if she had been waiting for him all along. Tutankhamun raked her with a scathing glare, his fists clenched at his sides as he exercised every bit of self control he had left not to strangle her on sight.
"You will get on your feet," he ordered her with deceptive softness. Ankhesenamun lifted her head at the command but did not immediately comply. Her lack of initiative only ignited his rage. "Get on your feet!"
As she stood up on trembling legs, Tutankhamun lurched forward and yanked back the thin cloak she used to cover herself. He grabbed hold of her arms, noting with mounting disbelief and fury the deep lacerations and bruises that ringed her neck and covered her uppers arms and torso. He met her vacant eyes with a menacing glare. "What did you do tonight?" he uttered in a searing whisper.
"I have been telling myself a thousand lies, brother," she murmured brokenly, "But I can no longer lie to myself or to you. I am tired. What I did tonight, I did for us."
She had barely finished the last of that statement before his hand was around her throat. He gripped her hard, holding her body aloft just slightly. "For us?"
"For our bloodline," she wheezed, "For our dynasty...our future generations..."
"He was my future generation," he hissed through clenched teeth, "My son...you took him from me..."
"He was not pure! He could never be Pharaoh!"
He tightened his grip on her neck. "He was a child, my child! I loved him! I loved them both! He was innocent!"
"No, he wasn't..." Ankhesenamun gasped as her oxygen supply began to dwindle, "...and neither was she. They were threats...they would have destroyed everything we have...worked to build... You know...in your heart...that you could never...be with them..."
Tutankhamun released her neck and shoved her away with a repressed sob. "You are wrong! They were all I had left in my heart." He looked away then, unable to bear the sight of her any longer. "Imprison her," he ordered the guards who had come filing inside shortly after he'd entered. After they had taken hold of a distraught Ankhesenamun, he declared in a tone devoid of all feeling, "When festival of our victory over the Mitanni is concluded and the people of this city once again bask in the glory of their kingdom, they will bear witness to your execution. I hereby sentence you to death by beheading."
He barely registered Ankhesenamun's screams of protest as they dragged her from the room. He felt as if he were trapped in a void where he could feel absolutely nothing, not pain, not anger, not even grief. Without acknowledging any of the sympathizing stares that fell upon him, Tutankhamun turned to exit the room with no real destination in mind. He didn't even realize that Lagus was present among the onlookers until the older man reached out a hand to still his departure.
"My lord, tell me what I can do for you. How can I ease your pain?"
Tutankhamun stared down at the hand gripping him with empty eyes. He shook off Lagus' hold. "You cannot. There is nothing anyone can do."
In the end, he decided to return to his bedchamber because that was truly the only place he wanted to be right then. He tenderly lifted his son from his basinet and carried him over to the bed, positioning him gently on the pillows between himself and Suhad. He then placed his arm over both the baby and Suhad and pulled them closer, pressing his face into Suhad's cheek and letting his eyes sink closed. He had no idea how long he lay there, praying, waiting, wishing to die before his royal physician entered and placed a tentative hand against his shoulder.
"My lord, you must allow me to tend to your leg otherwise you risk an infection."
He did not even spare the physician a glance when he answered but, kept his eyes trained on Suhad's still face. "I am not in pain."
"You are already beginning to burn with fever. You must receive treatment if you are to recover."
"Tell me about them," Tutankhamun whispered gruffly, ignoring the physician's warning altogether, "Tell me about the birth. Tell me about Suhad."
"What do you want to know?" the physician asked in a tentative tone.
"Did she labor long? Was she in much pain? Was it a complicated delivery? Tell me everything."
"She labored through the night but she bore the pain well. She was very brave but she was also very frightened," the physician recounted, "She wanted you to be here and called out for you many times." Tutankhamun emitted a small whimper filled with sorrow at that but otherwise remained silent. "The baby was healthy despite being a bit early and somewhat small. However, he had very strong lungs and an obstinate spirit. He would have lived a long, prosperous life."
"What did she name him?"
"She did not name him. She was waiting for you, my lord."
While nothing else seemed to penetrate the shell of numbness that had begun to grow around his heart, that revelation brought with it a fresh wave of wracking sobs. "I don't know what to do anymore... I don't know how to go on without her," he wept.
"My lord, you must go on," the physician urged him, "Please...allow us to take the bodies and prepare them for burial. What you are doing is not healthy."
"No...no...don't take them! Do not take them from me..."
"My lord, they are with the gods now."
Tutankhamun snarled at him, more like feral animal than a man in that moment. "Do not touch them!"
"Tutankhamun, stop this." He jerk his head around with the soft utterance of his name, not at all surprised to find Lagus standing there. It was the commander's lack of formality with him that caught his attention more than anything else...because it was evident that Lagus was relating to him as a sincere friend and not a servant addressing his king. "You are ill and distraught and you are not thinking clearly," he told Tutankhamun gently, "You must allow the physician to care for your leg. I will take care of Suhad and the baby. You know you can trust me. I will show them nothing less than the reverence they deserve."
"I don't want them to be taken away," he whispered mournfully, "There will be nothing left when they are gone. They are all I have."
"That is not true. You have Egypt. You have your people. And you have me. I will not leave you." Lagus stepped forward and placed a tentative hand on Tutankhamun's shoulder. "Let me take care of them for you."
Tutankhamun darted a wild look between Lagus and the physician before gazing down at the still faces of Suhad and his son. Finally, he consented with a small nod. "Together, Lagus..." he uttered thickly, "...make sure they remain together..."
"I will. I promise you."
The following day, Tutankhamun drifted through his duties as if in a fog. While reclining on his chaise, he only half-listened as Horemheb, Lagus and Ay briefed him on their plan to thwart the high priest Amun's plot against him during the festival. He was mainly preoccupied with thoughts of Suhad and his son's burial that afternoon and the letter he had reluctantly penned to her parents informing them of her premature death. He refrained from mentioning how she had died, however, recognizing that her family already had plenty enough for which to despise him without adding that to the list.
It was in that guilt-ridden state of mind that he'd had his final confrontation with the high priest. Shortly before Suhad and his son's interment, the high priest had approached him with thinly veiled barbs beneath the insincere offers of condolence. He had been nothing short of arrogant and self-assured. Amun completely believed Tutankhamun to be exposed and without protection and now, also, in a vulnerable state brought on by grief. He felt empowered because he thought he had both the vizier and general Horemheb's fidelity in his plan to assassinate the pharaoh. What he did not know was that his agents in his duplicitous were actually planning to betray him.
"Everything is in place, my king," General Horemheb assured Tutankhamun, "When you give the signal then my men will carry out all your judgment against the high priest. Then Egypt will, at last, truly be free from all of her enemies."
"May it be just as you have spoken, my friend," Tutankhamun replied, "Thank you. You may take your leave now. There is much planning to be done if we are to be ready in time for the festival."
After General Horemheb had left, Lagus volunteered to retrieve the physician so that Tutankhamun might receive another dose of medicine for his infected leg, sensing without being asked that Tutankhamun wanted the opportunity to speak with Ay alone. Once the room was empty of everyone except the two of them, Tutankhamun regarded Ay with an expectant look.
"I sense you've wanted to speak your mind for the better part of the morning," he observed, "You may do so now."
After a fleeting instance of hesitancy, Ay approached Tutankhamun's side with a heavy sigh. "Are you in much pain?"
The question was a needless one. It was easy to see that he was. His lips were compressed in a tight line. His entire body trembled and was covered in a fine sheen of sweat. He looked, for lack of a better description, gray in pallor and quite ill. And yet, despite that visible evidence, Tutankhamun replied, "I'll manage it."
"Are you sure you would not rather take some time to rest?" Ay advised, "You are clearly unwell and grieving deeply at this time. Horemheb and Lagus will see to it that the high priest is dealt with accordingly. There is no need for you to have a hand in this."
Tutankhamun pinned him with a deadly stare. "There is every need. Amun has subjugated my people. I will personally see to his end."
"And the queen?" the vizier questioned boldly.
"I will see to hers as well," he grunted.
"Perhaps you can...reconsider your decision on that. She...she was not in her right mind that night, my lord."
"Do you dare defend what she did? Are you justifying her actions?"
"Not justifying," Ay clarified quickly before Tutankhamun's anger could blaze, "...explaining. When Suhad gave birth to your son something snapped within the queen. For her, that child represented everything she had lost in the past year. She was not thinking clearly. I am not suggesting that you pardon her for her crimes but...spare her life, at least."
"No. She had no mercy for Suhad. She had no mercy for my son. I will show no mercy to her."
"She is your sister, my king."
"I have no sister, Ay."
The vizier was cut off from further argument on the subject with the arrival of Lagus and the physician. After close inspection of the Pharaoh's injured leg, the physician determined that Tutankhamun should not stand on his leg any longer. It was his recommendation that Tutankhamun be confined to strict bed rest for the remainder of his convalescence in order to allow the medicine to do its work of healing. He firmly believed that if Tutankhamun did not stay off of his leg that he would be dead by nightfall and he told his pharaoh exactly that.
Tutankhamun received that ominous news with almost an emotionless calm. While he and the vizier seemed adamant that Tutankhamun could carry out his part in the judgment against the high priest, Lagus was firmly in the physician's corner, rallying for Tutankhamun to rest and recuperate. Despite Tutankhamun's determination to do otherwise, Lagus kept on emphasizing his opinion on the matter too as he helped Tutankhamun prepare for the festival.
"When will you finally listen to the advice I give you?" he admonished the young pharaoh.
His answer to that was a wry smile. "I do listen...sometimes."
"You heard the physician, Tutankhamun," Lagus pressed, "You're pushing yourself too hard. Are you trying to die?"
"Tell me...why should I fear the afterlife, Lagus," Tutankhamun wondered softly, "when I know that they await me there?"
"Do not be in such a hurry to meet with death, my lord," Lagus beseeched him, "I have already lost one dear friend. I would prefer not to lose another so soon after."
The celebration festival began with the presentation of the Pharaoh to his people. They cheered and lauded him when he came to stand before them dressed from head to toe in the finery fit only for a king, never imagining the debilitating pain he was enduring. Wine and food flowed freely as the people rejoiced in their freedom from the Mitanni threat while Tutankhamun sat on his throne and resisted the pull to pass out. Only a few more loose ends to tidy and then he could finally let go...
Once his decoy was in place, then all was set into motion to dispatch the hypocritical priesthood and free the people of Amun's religious tyranny. When the priests moved in to assassinate the man they believed to be their pharaoh, they then set in motion the events that would lead to their own slaughter. The execution was carried out en masse and no priest, not in the capital nor in the far reaching territories of Egypt was to be spared.
When every single under-priest in Thebes was dead, Tutankhamun personally sought out Amun in his temple sanctuary with Lagus, Horemheb and Ay backing him. He found the high priest kneeling before the altar, no doubt offering up thanks to the gods for the victory he believed he had been granted. Tutankhamun took supreme satisfaction in proving the arrogant hypocrite wrong before executing the high priest with his own hands. It was at that point that the adrenaline and fury that had been propelling him forward for the last twenty-four hours abruptly dissipated and Tutankhamun finally collapsed from the stress and grief and infection ravaging his body.
He was carried to his bedchamber by General Horemheb and laid in the same bed where his precious Suhad had drawn her last breath. It seemed fitting to him that he would draw his last breath there as well. The knowledge left Tutankhamun with almost odd sense of inner peace and it was that very peace that compelled him to ask for Ankhesenamun. After the physician confirmed that his injury would indeed prove fatal and Lagus went off to retrieve Ankhesenamun at his pharaoh's request, Tutankhamun was left alone with the man who had raised him.
"It is a good thing that you asked for your sister," Ay commended him softly, "There should be no animosity between you two at such a time as this."
"You grow sentimental in your old age," Tutankhamun murmured in a wry tone, "I almost believe that you truly care for us, Ay...that we have been more than simply a means to an end for you."
"I do care. I always have."
"But we both know there were always other things that you cared for even more..." the young pharaoh discerned astutely, "...And now you will have them. You will see your ambitions realized but it will not be what you imagine. Soon...you will know how it feels to be unable to trust those closest to you, even those whom you dearly love. It is a lonely existence...and you...you will come to know it well."
After Ankhesenamun finally arrived, Ay stood wordlessly and took his leave. The queen favored the vizier with a grateful glance as he passed, assuming he had been the one to convince her brother to call for her, before turning her attention to her ailing brother. Lagus had tried to prepare her for Tutankhamun's altered appearance but Ankhesenamun was still not prepared for how haggard he looked. It was as if he had aged thirty years overnight. His skin had a sickly grayish green cast, his eyes, usually so sharp and keen, appeared sunken and dull. He looked drawn and weak and so very, very tired.
Ankhesenamun climbed the dais steps on stiffened legs and approached the bed with a soft gasp full of grief and remorse. She eased down next to Tutankhamun and swept up his limp, clammy hand in her own. "Thank you for allowing me to be here with you," she whispered gruffly, "I know you haven't forgiven me but I am grateful for the chance to say goodbye."
"I have tried to hate you, but... You are still my blood. You are still my sister."
She swallowed back the sobs that rose in her throat, leaning forward to press her forehead to his. "I am sorry...I can never express to you how very sorry I am for what I have done. Please know that if I could take back this blow that I have dealt you, I would, brother."
"As I would...take back the...blow I dealt you...with Ka..." he confessed between labored breaths, "Only now...do I truly understand...what anguish I caused you...how empty you have felt inside..."
Somehow the fact that he should be expressing his remorse to her as he lay there dying only compounded the guilt and misery that had settled deep into the pit of her stomach. "I am sorry...I am so, so sorry..."
"What have I left for this world, sister?" Tutankhamun mused tiredly, "For what purpose was I here? I was not a builder of great monuments, not a conqueror of great lands. I leave behind no legacy, no trace of my existence at all. I will be forgotten in the sand and time."
"You will not be forgotten, my brother," Ankhesenamun denied fiercely, "You will be remembered as a pharaoh who understood the dignity of other men, a pharaoh who ruled, not for himself, but for his people. That is the measure of a great and lasting king and that is how you, Pharaoh Tutankhamun, my brother...will be remembered."
He mouthed a feeble "thank you," silent tears meandering down his temples with her words. He took a deep breath, noting that the pain in his body had begun to recede and recognizing what that meant. He could literally feel his life ebbing away, like he was beginning to float outside of himself. Tutankhamun shut his eyes with a resigned sigh. "Will you stay with me until the end?"
"Yes..." she whispered, stretching out alongside him as he took his final breath, "...I will."
A/N - So this is it. Epilogue tomorrow and then this puppy is complete. Some of you have asked if I will write another Tuhad fic. The answer is likely so. However, I don't have anything planned at the moment. Right now I am working on an outline for Twisted so that will probably keep me busy for the next couple of months. Thank everyone for reading. You guys are really the best.
Dee