Chapter Seventy Eight: The Deflowering Ceremony
Kiya was carried across the darkening courtyard into the main living room of the harem. In the dimness she could see a long central table, surrounded by cushioned benches. Rahotep laid her on the ground beside a carved wooden screen and she watched while he went behind the screen and opened a hidden door.
That must be the secret passage to the palace, thought Kiya as the eunuch came back and lifted her once more into his arms. It was a tight squeeze to carry her through the narrow space between the screen and the wall but Rahotep accomplished it with ease and bent low to traverse the open doorway. Inside the passage was absolute darkness but Kiya felt no fear. The wine had separated her from her surroundings and she observed the world through indifferent eyes.
Despite his enormous bulk, the eunuch moved through the passageway with the grace of a cat and was so sure footed it was almost as if he could see in the dark. After a while he stopped and opened a door to flickering candle light and the smell of beeswax.
Kiya tried to struggle as Rahotep carried her to the large bed in the centre of the room, but she found that her limbs did not respond. The drugged wine had numbed her muscles as well as her brain.
The eunuch laid her on the bed and she felt him unwrap the sheet. His huge hands arranged her body so she lay on her back with her legs slightly parted and her arms straight down at her sides. For a moment he stood looking down at her, regarding his handiwork with approval, then he retired into the shadows from where Kiya heard the sound of a gong.
Voices came from the next room. Kiya tried to concentrate her drifting mind on what was being said.
“I regret I will have to leave you, I have been summoned to the bedchamber.” The voice was indistinct through the door but Kiya knew it must belong to the King.
“Congratulations, your Majesty. I hear that your new bride arrived from Crete this afternoon.” Kiya vaguely wondered who was with him.
“Yes. The Queen of the island has been generous with her tribute,” said the King.
“I hope this means that Crete’s incursions into the delta are at an end. We should send her gifts in return, your Majesty.”
“Does she have a harem? Surely not!”
Kiya heard the King’s companion laugh. “You are right, your Majesty. I fear the chances of a dynastic marriage are nil. The Queen would prefer a fine bull.”
“I think I would too,” said the King gloomily. The door opened and Ikhnaton stood, dark against the bright oil lamps behind him.
“Do you wish me to await your return, your Majesty?” The voice behind the King was now recognisable as Dennu’s. Part of Kiya’s mind recoiled in fear that he might find out that she was Ikhnaton’s new bride, but her emotions were blanketed by the drugs and she remained relaxed.
“Yes, wait for me. I will not be long.” Ikhnaton called over his shoulder. He shut the door behind him and crossed the room to the bed. He was wearing a belted robe. “Good evening,” he said to Kiya.
“Good evening, your Majesty.” Her vocal cords were slack and her voice sounded low and husky.
He undid the belt and his robe hung half open revealing his nakedness. Kiya averted her eyes. She felt the bed sag as he sat down beside her and she heard him sigh. “It is time for the deflowering ceremony.”
“If you are too busy we could postpone it.”
He reached out and patted her thigh, his hand slipping on the thick covering of oil. “No, you have been prepared.”
“I don’t mind,” she insisted.
He patted her thigh again and stared at her breasts. “It is an insult to your Queen if I fail to deflower you on our wedding night.”
“We can tell everyone I have been deflowered,” Kiya said.
“You are a nice girl.” He smiled at her and she managed to smile back. There was a long pause and then he sighed again. “Perhaps later, when I have less on my mind.” Ikhnaton rose to his feet. “I will tell the Queen of Crete that I am delighted with her gift.” He adjusted his robe then stood looking down at her. “When all this is over I look forward to taking my pleasure. I am sure you will bear me many fine sons.” His eyes lingered so long on her breasts that she feared he might change his mind and deflower her after all. But, slowly, he tied his belt. “I hope you will excuse me, my dear, but I have important work to do.”
Kiya watched him turn and leave the room. For a moment she glimpsed the room beyond and saw Dennu straighten up from a table over which he had been leaning. Then the door closed and she lay in the candle light giving silent thanks for her delivery. Rahotep emerged from the darkness and Kiya was momentarily startled - she had forgotten the eunuch was there. He had witnessed the failure of the wedding ceremony and she wondered what repercussions awaited her.
She felt him wrap her in the sheet, then he lifted her up and carried her back through the secret passage.
Bunefer was waiting for them at the other end, holding an oil lamp. “Was the deflowering successful?” she asked.
“No, Madam,” said the eunuch. “But the King expressed satisfaction with his new bride.”
“That is good enough,” said Bunefer. She led the way to Kiya’s apartment where Rahotep laid her on the bed.
They stood looking down at her. “I am sorry for your disappointment, my dear,” said Bunefer. “But a spell has been cast upon the King by his first wife and he is interested in no other.”
Kiya tried to look disappointed and murmured, “I understand.”
Bunefer nodded her approval and she and Rahotep left the room.
Kiya struggled to free herself from the cocoon of the sheet but she had not enough strength to loosen the binding cloth. In the end she gave up the struggle and slept.