The Double Crown: Secret Writings of the Female Pharaoh Page 17

  Dhutmose has his uses, but he must be kept in check. He knows that I set men to watch him, but he is never sure exactly who they are, so that he cannot subvert them. As to his implied offer … a debt of such magnitude coupled with such secret knowledge would give him power over me that I can never allow.

  I sat stroking Bastet after Dhutmose had taken his leave, remembering how I had considered every move to establish my majesty. Two methods have served me well: controlling and using powerful men; and propaganda statements made in living stone.

  From the beginning of my reign, I have taken care always to counterbalance the power of one man with authority granted to other men so that no-one could ever overshadow the Pharaoh. I alone would wield supreme command. Dhutmose as Vizier of the North has been one counterbalance to my Vizier of the South over the years, but I soon realised that I also needed someone nearer to the throne, both physically and in spirit, to contend effectively with Hapuseneb.

  I searched the ranks of my advisers and officials for one who had sufficient character, and I found the very man I needed in a person who until then had not had much authority: Senenmut. Able tutor of the little princess Neferure. Reliable steward of my own and my daughter’s property. If he was indeed the man I judged him to be, he would stand up to Hapuseneb. Yes, I thought, Senenmut would be advanced. My Grand Vizier would be surprised. Not pleasantly.

  To celebrate my coronation I ordered two statues of myself to be hewn from pink granite, far greater than life-size, showing my majesty wearing the cloth nemset crown, to be installed at the entrance to the administrative palace on the bank of the Nile in Thebes. I instructed the artist to depart from the usual way of depicting a woman, standing with her feet together, but rather to sculpt me with one foot forward like a man. The male attitude should, I thought, prepare visiting diplomats and ambassadors for an encounter with a woman who is also a King.

  In addition, I ordered enormous obelisks to be quarried at Aswan before I was crowned so that they might be ready to be floated down from Aswan on the flood soon after the ceremony. They would be placed at the eastern end of the temple of Amen-Ra at Karnak, where the coronation ceremonies take place, and I would dedicate them to the God who had begotten me. The great architect Ineni, who had overseen such undertakings for my royal father Thutmose the First, may he live, had recently died. So I gave Senenmut the task of ordering, transporting and installing the commemorative obelisks. After all, he had been taught by Ineni, had he not? I would see what he could do.

  Hapuseneb had of course assumed that he would be given this task and he was much displeased; more so when, as I had expected, Senenmut carried out the task with remarkable efficiency.

  Great was the rejoicing in Thebes when the obelisks were brought on river barges, conveyed to the temple on sledges and installed. I had ordered both obelisks to be clad in gold entirely, not merely the tips, and I had them inscribed with the words of Amen, describing me as his beloved daughter Ma’atkare, and confirming that the God, as my loving father, had ordained me King.

  The two colossal obelisks sparkled and shimmered in the brilliant sunlight. I ordered a feast, providing bread and beer for all my people, and a bull was ritually slaughtered. Senenmut was in his element that day and partook in the festivities with great delight. He was then in the prime of his life, having seen twenty-six risings of the Nile: a tall man, well built and charged with energy. He had a natural authority and gift of command that men older and more senior than he might well have wished to possess. He was delighted to have carried out his task successfully, and I was pleased with him.

  Music and dancing acclaimed the new Pharaoh in the streets and marketplaces. Joyous hymns resounded in the temples; it was clear that the gods were satisfied. Khemet was safe.

  Soon after my coronation, I called Hapuseneb and Senenmut to the small audience chamber. Hapuseneb, assured of his position as Grand Vizier of the South and Chief Priest of Amen, arrived first, impeccable in his white tunic, his coppery skin entirely hairless as a priest’s must be. Senenmut reported out of breath with dusty sandals, though his hands were clean. I kept them both standing.

  “Hapuseneb,” I said, “you worked with Ineni on my late father the Pharaoh’s tomb, may they both live, not so?”

  “Yes, Majesty.” He moved a little aside from the perspiring Senenmut.

  “So, you will know exactly where the entrance is located?” Although I had myself walked in my father’s funeral procession, I would never be able to find the entrance in that vast, barren amphitheatre once it had been closed up and hidden beneath boulders and scattered rocks.

  “Of course, Majesty. I have the co-ordinates here.” He tapped his egg-shaped head.

  “I want you to open it up, and extend it, with a deeper joint burial chamber, where I may lie with my royal father, in my own sarcophagus.”

  “But … is there not already a tomb …”

  “Yes, but it is only suitable for a Great Royal Wife. You shall become the Overseer of the King’s Tomb, and prepare one suitable for your Pharaoh. With appropriate inscriptions, naturally, and paintings relating to my reign. I know that already you are almost over-burdened, but I confidently entrust this additional great responsibility to you.”

  “Thank you, Majesty. I am extremely busy, but I can manage one more important task.” He stared smugly at Senenmut.

  “And as for you, Senenmut, you are to undertake the task of planning and designing my mortuary temple at Djeser-Djeseru. You shall be Overseer of the King’s Temple. We shall discuss your ideas.”

  A delighted grin from Senenmut; a sharp intake of breath from Hapuseneb. Who was immediately jealous, for the mortuary temple would be in the public eye, while the tomb would remain hidden, and no-one would admire what Hapuseneb had wrought.

  “I know I can depend on your absolute discretion,” I said to Hapuseneb.

  “No-one seeing, no-one hearing,” murmured Senenmut.

  “Of course, Majesty,” said Hapuseneb through clenched teeth.

  Hapuseneb looked down on Senenmut as an upstart provincial, coming from the small town of Iuny, being born of undistinguished parents, and having been educated by a priest. Hapuseneb, on the other hand, was a child of the palace, since his mother – who was a noblewoman – had waited on my mother the Queen, and he had been educated with the royal children, though before my time. However, it soon became clear that in terms of intellectual power and innate ability he and Senenmut were on an equal footing, and it sorely irked Hapuseneb. But it pleased me greatly and it strengthened my hand in dealing with them. And it amused me to see Hapuseneb seethe.

  Of all the building works that I have caused to be done, my temple at Djeser-Djeseru is the one I love the best. It lifts my heart to think of it and I try to visit it often.

  Senenmut knew that I had long admired the setting and he understood that it called for something exceptional. He took some time to consider possible designs and then he made a model of his concept, beautifully crafted out of light wood and placed against the mountainous cliffs of the bay where it would stand, sculpted out of some kind of clay and painted to look very realistic. I have it still; it is kept on a table in the palace and little Amenhotep begs to go and look at it when he comes to visit me. I remember so well the day Senenmut showed me the model in his office for the first time.

  The model was covered with a linen cloth, so I did not see it at once. I was extremely curious to see what he had designed. He was quite nervous, I could tell, for he walked to and fro and talked too much.

  “It will arise beside the partly ruined temple of Mentuhotep the Second,” he explained, “but it will replace the building begun for the late Pharaoh Thutmose, may he live. The rear will be hewn out of the rocks, but the main construction in front will be built of limestone, so it will be almost white. The plan …”

  “Senenmut,” I said, “enough discussion. Show me! Why are you so nervous? It is not like you.”

  “Because, Majesty,” he answered,
“it is unlike any other temple ever built, except to some degree that of Mentuhotep. It is a design such as the Kingdom of the Two Lands has never seen before. And I have put my heart into it. I am afraid to show Your Majesty.” Truly, he was most anxious.

  “Show me!”

  He took a deep breath and flung the covering aside.

  For some moments I stood perfectly still, staring at it. I said not a word. The silence lengthened.

  “Majesty,” he said, miserably. “Pharaoh is displeased? Perhaps Pharaoh would have preferred a series of tall pylons, leading to a hypostyle hall, enormous pillars crowned with lotuses, and …”

  “Be quiet,” I said. I walked around the table. I saw, indeed, a unique design. It had elements of the old ruin, but it was much grander in scope and it fulfilled my wish that it would dominate the plain. There were three wide porticos fronting broad terraces on different levels, rising gradually from the plain up to where the God’s sanctuary would be, deep inside the tall cliffs behind it, hewn out of the Theban rock. The terraces were linked by imposing open-air stairways, dividing the structure into northern and southern halves and leading up to the sanctuary. Its proportions were magically harmonious.

  He waited, seeming to hold his breath.

  “It is perfect,” I said. “It is exquisite.”

  He sighed deeply with relief and kneeled to kiss the floor in front of my feet. I put out my hand and drew him up. Pharaoh does not lightly touch a subject, but this was a special occasion. “Do not kneel,” I said. “It is I that must kneel to the creator of such beauty.”

  He bent his head and raised my hand to his lips. His eyes were fixed on mine. He kissed my fingers. It was as if some of his life force passed into me. I had trouble breathing.

  Then I took possession of my hand again, taking a backward step. “Explain,” I said, “explain the way it will be laid out.”

  He picked up a wooden pointer tipped with ivory. “As Majesty ordered,” he said, “the temple will be dedicated to Amen.” I noted that the pointer was trembling.

  “My heavenly father, yes.” So was my voice.

  “Therefore, the main sanctuary will be intended for the secret rites and rituals of Amen. But, since the site is a holy place inhabited by Hathor, there will be a chapel dedicated to the goddess.”

  “Excellent. On the walls we can show how the goddess suckled me. Here.” I stepped forwards again. Our shoulders brushed. He let his arm rest against mine. It was warm. It was as if his life force hummed beneath his skin. We both pretended not to notice.

  “There will be smaller shrines within, dedicated to the blessed memory of Pharaoh’s ancestors, other gods, and the Pharaohs Thutmose the First and Second, may they live.”

  “May they live.”

  Desperately, his hand sought mine and our fingers entangled. My hand clung to his. My knees were shaking. I could hear his breathing, fast and uneven.

  “There will be long colonnades,” Senenmut continued, after a pause, “with plenty of wall space to record Your Majesty’s deeds and the chief events of Your Majesty’s reign.”

  My reign. Yes, I thought. I am the Pharaoh. I withdrew my hand and stepped away from him. “The records should begin with the record of my divine birth,” I said, flatly. “And my coronation must be shown.”

  “Of course. I shall so instruct the artists.” He sighed. “And here, Majesty, there will be a chapel dedicated to Anubis.”

  Anubis. On the walls of that chapel I would depict myself making offerings to the jackal-headed god, who supervises the weighing of one’s heart in the Netherworld. That should stand me in good stead when the day of reckoning came. “Most appropriately.”

  “The columns, as Your Majesty sees, may be square or rounded, but uncrowned. No lotuses.”

  “Good. I like the pure lines.”

  At this his tense face relaxed into a smile. “The uppermost level will be a hypostyle hall with twenty-four square-cut pillars faced by painted statues of King Ma’atkare looking out across the Nile. Majesty’s mortuary chapel will be located on the south side of the upper courtyard, here.” He pointed. “It will be a vaulted chamber, with a doorway in the rear wall leading to the realm of the Afterlife.”

  “Excellent. Now, in front, as one approaches …”

  “There will be an avenue,” he said, “linking the temple with the old Valley Temple on the Nile. Lined with rows of sphinxes, each with the body of a lion and the head of the Pharaoh. The king of the beasts and the king of men united in one powerful creature. I have not yet made models of these, in case Your Majesty did not approve.”

  “Pharaoh does approve,” I said. “I think it is an exceptionally striking concept.”

  “Then Pharaoh’s servant is happy.”

  I walked around the model once again. “It will be perfect for the Feast of the Valley,” I said. “When we bring the god Amen from Karnak to the Valley Temple in the second month of summer. I often think of the dark and secret shrine where the God lives and I suspect it must be lonely.”

  Senenmut agreed: “I too have thought it. With only the priests who ever come near, to carry out the daily rituals and bring the offerings. A lonely existence.”

  “But we will bring the God out of the gloom into the brilliant sun and transport him across the Nile to spend the night with Hathor at Djeser-Djeseru.”

  “One night of joyous feasting,” he said, smiling in delight. “And the populace will take part, and they will be amazed at the glorious temple raised up for Pharaoh Hatshepsut. It will be a memorable feast, in a magnificent setting.”

  I nodded. “Pharaoh is greatly pleased,” I told him. I stood gazing at the model, musing. “How long will it take, do you think?”

  “Many years,” he said. “It is a huge undertaking. But I will do the best I can to complete it as soon as possible.”

  “Well, if the completion is to be well into my reign, I think one more element might be added,” I said.

  He frowned. “Added?”

  “Yes. Here, at the bottom of the first flight of steps.”

  “What should be added?”

  “A pair of obelisks, similar to those ordered for my coronation. I greatly favour obelisks. They should be hewn from white marble. The highlights of my reign should be inscribed upon them. They should …”

  “No,” said Senenmut.

  I stared at him. “No? No!”

  “No, Majesty, I do not agree. Such strong added verticals would upset the balance of the design. Obelisks would look out of place.”

  “They would look majestic,” I said.

  “The cliffs are majestic,” said Senenmut. “Against that backdrop, obelisks would appear puny.”

  “I am sure you are mistaken. I think the design requires obelisks.”

  “I will not add them,” said Senenmut. He closed his lips in a thin line.

  “You will do as I say or I will put Hapuseneb in charge of this project!”

  “As Your Majesty wishes.”

  “You forget yourself. I made you. I can unmake you. I’ll relegate you to the ranks of junior scribes! Then what will you do?”

  “Go back to Iuny,” said Senenmut. “I have property there. I can live peacefully raising vegetables. And, perhaps, children.”

  “I will confiscate your farm,” I raged. “I will hang you head downwards from the walls of Thebes! I am Pharaoh!”

  “Yes, Majesty,” he said, tiredly. “If my life is worth no more than a pair of obelisks, so be it.” He knelt at my feet.

  I looked down at his thick dark hair. The tide of anger that had coursed through me receded. My heart reproached me. I wanted to reach out and draw him to his feet. In truth, I wanted to be taken into his arms and kissed again, not on my hand but on my lips. But I was Egypt and it could not be.

  I stepped nearer to the model. “Are you sure they would look puny?”

  “Certain, Majesty.”

  “Very well, then. You are the architect. Do as you please.”

&nbs
p; “Thank you, Majesty.”

  I swept out of his office. He should not see the tears that burned in my eyes. Tears of anger, of course. No, he should not see the Pharaoh weep.

  Here endeth the thirteenth scroll.

  THE FOURTEENTH SCROLL

  The reign of Hatshepsut year 8

  Looking back over my life there was one event that changed everything. There was the time before and the time after, and they were entirely different. Before it happened, I was strong, I was resilient; I marched forward, there was nothing that I could not overcome. I felt fortunate. Afterwards I had to muster my strength. I felt vulnerable, like one who has had a terrible illness and has lost some deep-seated vitality that will never return. I was no longer sure that I was the chosen of the gods. If the record I am making here is to be complete, I must write of it, but it is hard to do. Yet I have vowed to tell the truth and write of it I must.

  It was Senenmut who first noticed that there was something seriously wrong with Neferure. They were always close, since he had been her tutor before his duties became too onerous and his half-brother Senimen replaced him. However, by the time she fell ill she no longer had a tutor, for she was fourteen years old and a great help to me as Pharaoh. Inet, who had been her nurse, was sixty years old and half blind by then, or she would have warned me. I was deeply involved with building plans at the time and the signs of danger escaped me.

  Perhaps Neferure herself had a presentiment. She came to my office in the administrative palace one day, as if she were one of my subjects rather than my daughter. “Mother, I wish to talk to you,” she said. “Seriously.”

  “Yes, my child?” I was reading a scroll with lists of materials and checking the costs, which seemed exorbitant.

  “I want you to listen.”

  “I always listen to you, dear.”

  “No, really listen. Hear me, Mother.”

  I looked up, frowning. “Is there a problem?”

  “Mother,” she said, twisting the edge of her robe nervously, “am I never to be married? Am I only to be the God’s Wife of Amen all my life?”