The Double Crown: Secret Writings of the Female Pharaoh Read online

  It was cool, very dark, and smelled musty. While the outer reaches of the temple are open and sunlit, with brightly coloured paintings on the walls, the corridors grow narrower and darker as they lead inward to the shrine where the God lives. I walked forwards and stood before the golden statue of the God in its niche. It seemed to me that its painted eyes regarded me with approbation.

  Gently and reverently I took the God from his niche and, using the items passed to me by the assistant priests, I fed the God, robed him, rouged his face and adorned him with royal emblems. Outside the inner sanctum the chantresses rejoiced, their pure voices accompanied by the rhythmic rattle of sistrums and tambourines. The powerful scent of the flaming torches and the heady aroma of incense filled the interior of the shrine, driving out the mustiness.

  The rites completed, a feeling of dizziness threatened to overcome me. My recent actions had inducted me into the ranks of the divine, a chain of living gods reaching back into the ancient past, all of whom had served to link the invisible and the visible. Through my life henceforth and through my spiritual strength I would sustain Khemet. It was an awesome task.

  I replaced the image, which the God would now certainly inhabit until the following day, in its niche. Then I kneeled down and struck my forehead against the dusty floor, smelling the dry sand. “Great Lord, my Father, make me worthy,” I murmured. “Make we worthy and help me, my Father, to maintain Ma’at. Let me never weaken. Be thou at my side.”

  It seemed to me then that I heard the God speak. “Verily thou art the seed of Amen-Ra,” I heard the God say, “which came forth from him.”

  I once more sealed the shrine. I left the sanctuary walking backwards while sweeping away my footprints with a palm frond, lest the devils that seek to attack the God follow my tracks into the shrine. Not by my doing would evil overpower the sacred centre of divinity. Hapuseneb accompanied me as I emerged from the dark and narrow canal into the raucous brightness of the outer courtyards, now tightly packed with people who raised a rousing cheer when they saw us. We stood side by side acknowledging their acclaim.

  Hapuseneb turned to look me in the eye. “I too applaud the Living Horus,” he said. “May life, stability and dominion reward the Pharaoh Hatshepsut.”

  I inclined my head. Joy suffused my being.

  “The people will need a sign, though,” he added, softly. “I think it would be appropriate to consult the oracle.”

  “Indeed, we should do that,” I agreed. And so King Hatshepsut was born that very morning, at the dawning of the Day of the Dead.

  I achieved the throne, but it has not been easy to hold it. Mahu the scribe has brought some information that I find very disquieting. If it is true that Hapuseneb and Thutmose, that one that would be King, are corresponding almost daily, it is not good. I shall have to order that the so-called tax collector be taken prisoner and interrogated and his belongings searched. Yet it must seem that he was set upon by thugs, for if Hapuseneb were to realise that Pharaoh’s hand is behind an attack on his man, there will be trouble – and then the conspirators, if such they are, will have been warned.

  Well, I shall confer with the head of my band of secret enforcers. There never used to be a need for such men, but during these past few years I have discovered that I cannot do without them. They report only to me and I keep them faithful by a combination of threats and rewards. After I had had two of their number sent to the quarries lacking not only ears and noses but also their manhood, because I suspected them of reporting to Hapuseneb, the rest soon remembered where their loyalty lay.

  The leader of the band is a fairly young man and he appears deceptively meek. He comes to me as a scribe, which he is, but that is not all he is. His name – but perhaps I should not write it, even in my secret scrolls, for there is always the danger that Mahu may be caught with these writings on his person and the head of the enforcers knows things … Let me call him Ibana. Ibana, then, is small and neat, with a shaven head and unexceptional brown eyes, barring that they are never still. He is extremely concerned about cleanliness and I must always ensure that a slave girl brings scented water to him when he arrives and again before he leaves so that he may wash his hands. Yes, I shall call for him and give him instructions to investigate the matter.

  Here endeth the ninth scroll.

  THE TENTH SCROLL

  The reign of Hatshepsut year 1

  Within days of my confrontation with Hapuseneb I caught my nephew mounting a female slave. By this time he had twelve summers and he was becoming both insolent and rebellious I was determined to remove him from Thebes completely. With Hapuseneb’s aid it would not be difficult, I thought.

  The girl was older than the young Thutmose by about half his age again, and willing enough to judge by her complicit giggling. As for him, he did not even look abashed. She fled precipitately, pulling down her homespun shift, while he stood his ground, his stocky, muscular legs planted like small trees. He shook out his kilt and grinned.

  “I am Pharaoh, Aunt,” he told me. I am in truth his stepmother also, but he never addresses me as such. “Pharaoh should have his pick of women. And women should know their place.”

  This made me angry in the extreme, but I would not let him see that he had riled me. I was co-regent at the very least. How dared he speak to me in such dismissive tones! Nor could he be allowed to assume authority. He was a child, and a child could not sustain the essential connections to the gods, nor could a child maintain Ma’at. Especially not such a one as he.

  “It is children who should know their place,” I said, “and you are but a child, nephew.”

  He grinned again. Certainly his actions had not been childish when I came upon the scene.

  He has hot eyes, that one who would be King. Hot eyes and voracious appetites. Runt though he is, there is fire in his loins, as I later found to my detriment – but more of that anon. First I must write of how I came to power. That episode goaded me into action.

  I began to implement the necessary steps to establish myself as the primary Pharaoh, legitimate occupant of the Double Throne. First the oracle would have to speak. That could be arranged. Then a glorious coronation would take place. It would be such a feast as the common people had not seen and would never forget. They would crown me with fanfares and feasting, with merriment and magnificence, with music from trumpets and flutes, cymbals and tambourines. I would become divine, and I would reign.

  I decided then that the child Thutmose should be sent to the priests at Heliopolis. Of course, they would not keep him celibate, but if he tried to treat one of their wives the way he had the slave, they would doubtless find a way to discipline him. They could keep him busy learning the rites and rituals appropriate to the Aten. Oh yes, I thought, let him be removed to Heliopolis and learn to serve a lesser god.

  Besides, I wanted him far away from Neferure, who was growing more beautiful with each rising of the Nile. I did not want him casting his lascivious eyes on my eldest daughter, my dearly beloved, my most precious ewe lamb. No, no, better to put a considerable distance between them, I thought. Especially after the episode with the slave. My darling deserved better than to be mated with this runt with the goatish disposition. I would not deny the betrothal that my husband had made me promise to announce, but I would keep them apart.

  It soon became clear to me that I had made a good decision in forcing the issue with Hapuseneb. He now acted decisively on my behalf, taking a number of helpful steps. He supported me in lodging the child Thutmose with the priests. As he had promised, he consulted the oracle as regards my succession to the throne. The oracle’s response was a clear endorsement of my claim. This is what it said, in ringing tones: “Verily, she is the daughter and the son of Amen-Ra; she works for him and knows his divine will; her heavenly father will reward her with life, stability and dominion upon the Horus throne. She will live for ever.” I would be crowned.

  My coronation was indeed a glorious occasion. All the elements that had characteri
sed such ceremonies over the ages were present, elements that had not been included in the hasty and ill-conceived coronation of the child Thutmose. The festival began in Thebes. Early that morning my ladies awoke me and accompanied me to the bathing room, whose mud-brick walls were lined with smooth, pale limestone. There a slave shaved me from head to toe, for on this day of days I must be completely clean. A small, nut-brown girl, her eyes were huge at the thought of the special task she had to perform. To begin with her hands trembled a little, but she soon became absorbed in her work and gained confidence.

  First she cut off my locks of hennaed hair, which were swept away, and then she closely shaved my skull with a copper-handled razor. When she was satisfied that I had a totally bald pate, she moved to my underarms, thence to my legs, and finally she depilated my private parts, ensuring that not a single hair remained anywhere. There was something sensual in the touch of her gentle, deft fingers, and I was momentarily reminded of my late husband Thutmose, may he live, who was a gentle and expert lover.

  Then sacred water from the Nile was poured over me from bowls made of precious metals, and my entire body was scrubbed with natron salt and wiped down with a strigil. It stung on the recently shaved areas, but I made no complaint. I was given natron tablets to chew on to purify my breath. The salty taste made me feel slightly nauseous on an empty stomach. There would be much feasting later on, but initially it was necessary to fast. I was dried with soft towels.

  Now the ladies of the bathing chamber rubbed myrrh oil sweetly scented with lotus into my glowing skin; then one brought a small pot made of gold containing concentrated lotus balsam and perfumed my wrists and inner arms with it.

  My dear Inet limped in, bringing the kilt of pure white pleated linen and the fine white linen shirt in which I would arrive at the temple. This was a man’s attire and she looked a little doubtful, but she knew better than to question me. Later more layers of clothing and jewellery would be added, but I would go to Amen-Ra simply clad. Even my feet were bare. She helped me to step into the kilt and fastened it. Next she dropped the shirt carefully over my shaven head, pulling it straight. Then she stood on tiptoe, drew my head down and kissed my forehead. Tears glimmered in her small dark eyes.

  “Tomorrow you will be Pharaoh and none may touch your divine body,” she murmured, “but today you are still my child and I love you. I always knew that it was your destiny to be great. I knew it, for are you not the chosen of the gods?” She pressed an ankh-shaped amulet on a chain into my hand. “This is for you, so that you may live for ever. May the gods be with you. May Hathor support you with her everlasting arms and keep you safe.”

  There were tears in my eyes too. “Thank you, Inet,” I said.

  At that moment I wished my mother could have been present, the Great Queen Ahmose, who had loved me too. I imagined her standing by my side. But I was motherless and I had to go to the temple alone.

  A gold-inlaid sedan chair was brought to carry me to the temple of Amen-Ra at Karnak, where the ceremonies would begin. Excited crowds packed the streets and rousing cheers greeted me as I was carried swiftly along the brightly decorated thoroughfare. Everywhere there were flags and arches twined with flowers; my devoted Senenmut, who was in charge of preparations, had done his job well. I knew that, in addition to the festive look, he had ensured that there were guards on duty to keep an eye out for anyone who might mount an attack to prevent me from reaching my goal.

  On reaching Karnak, I entered the sacred house of Amen-Ra. Figures of priests wearing animal masks denoting the pantheon of gods came to meet me. Recognising none but Hapuseneb, who was the tallest and wore the mask of Horus, I walked forwards resolutely.

  It was necessary to undergo another ritual purification, thoroughly though I had been prepared. Guided by Horus and Atum, I entered the hall of purification. Here I removed the kilt and the shirt and stepped into a shallow crystal bowl of sacred water, while four priests representing the four cardinal points of the world poured water over me. I felt no shyness at that moment even though I was surrounded by men, for was I not there in my capacity as the son of Amen-Ra? Yet I noted that Horus was stirred by the sight of my naked form. I ignored that and shut my eyes. In my heart I spoke to Amen, Lord of the Thrones of the Two Lands. Give me sovereignty over the entire Black Land, over the North and South, Delta and Valley, I entreated the God. Give me dominion. And make me worthy.

  I was dried and anointed with sacred oil. Once more I donned the kilt and the linen shirt, but now there was added a heavy collar, a flat, circular shape made of row upon row of gold links studded with lapis lazuli and carnelian. I was given sandals of leather interwoven with gold thread, with portraits of Hittite prisoners on the inner soles. Onward I walked, treading on our enemies, to the House of the King, where I would actually be crowned. The masked priests accompanied me. All around us the sweetly scented incense and the rattle of sistrums drove away devils. The ancient chant of the coronation ritual sounded in my ears, working its magic. I began to feel light-headed.

  Now Hapuseneb, in his role as First Priest of Amen, presented a live cobra for me to grasp. I did not shrink for a single moment, but took the cold and scaly body firmly behind the narrow head. The black eyes stared into mine and it hissed. Yet I had no fear, for Apophis had once before spared me for my destiny. I looked at evil and I mastered it. The priest took the snake from me and killed it with dispatch. Now the royal uraeus was placed upon my forehead: a golden cobra with jewelled eyes. The symbol of Wadjet, the mother goddess. She would never leave me henceforth; she would strike terror into the souls of all who faced the King. She would spit venom into the eyes of my enemies.

  At last I was truly Pharaoh and divine. The two crowns of Egypt were placed upon my head, one by one: the Red Crown of Lower Egypt, and the White Crown of Upper Egypt. The false beard of the Pharaohs was tied under my chin, held in place with loops around my ears. The bull’s tail attached to a gold-studded leather belt was fastened around my waist. The sumptuous coronation robes were hung about my form. The royal crook and the flail were put into my hands. Now a blare of trumpets heralded the announcement of my five royal names: Horus Powerful-of-Kas. Two Ladies Flourishing-of-Years. Female Horus of Fine Gold Divine-of-Diadems. King of Upper and Lower Egypt Ma’atkare. Daughter of Ra Khnemet-Amen Hatshepsut.

  Finally I proceeded to the innermost shrine, where I stood face to face with the God, Amen-Ra, an impressive golden figure with intensely blue eyes. It seemed to me that the God looked upon me with favour and spoke so: “Thou hast been invested with the double crown, thou art blessed. Thou art my heir, thou art my seed. This is my daughter Khnemet-Amen Hatshepsut, living for ever. She shall reign.” I was filled with exaltation.

  The Divine Light had placed me upon the earth of living mortals to judge human beings and satisfy the will of the gods. For the King must displace disorder, lies and injustice with the harmony of Ma’at – that is, the cosmic order that came into being with creation. The King must assure justice, protect the weak from the strong, make offerings to the Invisible and venerate the souls of the dead.

  I prostrated myself and I prayed:

  “Oh, my heavenly father and lord of lords,

  Amen, Lord of the Double Throne,

  I smell the air coming forth from thy nose!

  Adored art thou in peace, O lord of the gods,

  Thou art exalted by reason of thy wondrous things!

  Make thou glorious my beatified being, make thou strong my soul!”

  It seemed to me that I heard again the very voice of the God: “Thou art blessed.”

  When I emerged from the dark recesses of the holy of holies, I walked in a great procession through the passages of the shadowy temple. I will be worthy, I vowed silently as I moved forwards. I will be worthy. I will reign wisely over this land that the God has given into my care. On we went, through the great pylons and out into the bright hot day. The heat and the noise of cheering crowds assaulted my senses. Now an even more ornate
sedan chair, inlaid with gold and precious jewels, but without curtains so that I might be seen, awaited me. It would be carried high on the shoulders of six stalwart standard bearers of military divisions. They stood to attention as I emerged from the temple. I was delighted to see that Khani was one of them.

  They were all solemn as they made deep obeisances, but when I told them to arise, Khani could not keep his wide white grin off his face. “I see you, Khani,” I said. “You have received promotion. Pharaoh is pleased.”

  He beamed, prostrating himself again. Then he assisted me to climb into the chair and I was hoisted aloft.

  “Pharaoh!” The people chanted. “Pharaoh! Pharaoh Hatshepsut!” The scent of crushed flowers rose in my nostrils as my sweating carriers pounded them underfoot.

  I was carried aboard a golden barque which sailed to Memphis, between banks lined with screaming and cheering onlookers. In Memphis I ran around the Palace of White Walls to commemorate the unification of the Two Lands, a race I repeated at my Sed festival six years ago. The fact that I grew up with two elder brothers has stood me in good stead, that and the fact that I have ever been brimful of energy. From the centre of the palace plain I loosed off four arrows to the four cardinal points of the compass, using a sturdy and beautifully decorated bow. Archery has been one of my accomplishments since I was taught to shoot with the royal princelings in the palace school and I have kept it up.

  Finally I opened the casket full of pigeons and released them into the sky. After circling for a minute or two, an equal number set off in each of the four directions, flying straight and true. This clearly showed that I was indeed the ruler of the entire world, of which Egypt is the centre and over which we exercise dominion by divine right. The roar and ringing cheers that greeted the flight of the freed birds sounds in my ears to this day.

  Ah yes, there was some manipulation there. My devoted Senenmut, may he live, had gone to a great deal of trouble some months before the ceremony to identify pigeon trainers who could train the requisite number of homing pigeons to fly home to four places in the appropriate directions, and they were well rewarded. One does not reign over Egypt by leaving things to chance. But it was merely done to communicate the truth that had been vouchsafed to me in the vision on the Day of the Dead. Once I knew without a doubt that I was of divine parentage, I moved forward; I did everything necessary to implement the will of the God, which was that I should reign. I was crowned with full ceremony; the God acknowledged me and I became divine. That is why those who desire my throne and seek my death, if such there be, shall not prevail.