Egypt’s future lay with Shaanar. Iset the Fair would forget Ramses, wed the new master of the country, and start a legitimate family.
Sary added that Shaanar also had the backing of the high priest of Amon and many other influential figures who would bolster his claim to the throne after Seti’s passing. Duly informed, Iset the Fair could take her destiny in hand.
When Moses arrived at the construction site, shortly after dawn, not one stonecutter was there to meet him. Yet it was an ordinary workday, and his elite crew was conscientious to a fault; their professional company held them accountable for every absence.
Still, Karnak’s new hall of columns, planned as the largest in Egypt, was deserted. For the first time, Moses could experience its grandeur untroubled by the ring of mallets and chisels. He contemplated the sacred images carved into the columns and admired the offertory scenes showing Pharaoh as one with the gods. This hugely powerful expression of the sacred transcended the human soul.
Moses remained there alone for hours, as if he possessed this magic place, a future home for the creative forces essential to Egypt’s survival. But were they the true expression of the divine, he wondered? Finally, he noticed a foreman coming in to pick up some misplaced tools. He greeted the workman at the foot of a column.
“Why isn’t anyone working today?”
“Didn’t they tell you?”
“I’ve just come back from Gebel el-Silsila.”
“The project supervisor told us this morning that we’re off until further notice.”
“What reason did he give?”
“Pharaoh needs to give his final approval in person, but he’s been held up in Memphis. We can’t go on until he comes to Thebes again.”
It sounded like an incomplete explanation. Nothing would keep Seti from an important project like Karnak—nothing but a serious illness. Seti dying . . . it was almost inconceivable. Ramses must be in despair.
Moses was on the next boat to Memphis.
“Come closer, Ramses.”
Seti lay on a gilded wooden bed by a window. The setting sun illuminated the room. Ramses was amazed at the serene glow on his father’s face.
There was still hope! He was strong enough to have visitors. He looked so much better. Seti could battle death and win, he knew it!
“Pharaoh is the image of the creator who created all things,” Seti instructed. “He acts in the name of Ma’at, the goddess of truth. Honor the gods, Ramses, be the shepherd of your people, watch over the great and the small, let your every action serve a worthwhile purpose.”
“You are Pharaoh, Father.”
“I see death coming for me, young and smiling, with the face of the goddess of the West. It is not a defeat, Ramses, but a journey. A journey into the vastness of the universe for which I have prepared myself, for which you must prepare from the first day of your reign.”
“Don’t go, Father, I beg you.”
“You were born to command, not to beg. The time has come for me to live my death and be judged at the entrance to the netherworld. If my life has been righteous, my being will move to a higher plane.”
“We need you here.”
“Since the time of the gods, Egypt has been the only daughter of the sun, and the son of Egypt sits on the throne of light. You must succeed me, Ramses, carry on my work and surpass it. You were named for the sun—Ra-Begot-Him. Live up to your name, Son of Light.”
“I have so many questions to ask you, so much to learn.”
“Since that first encounter with the wild bull, I have been teaching you, for no one knows what unexpected twists his destiny may have in store. You must now master that destiny. Your fate is to guide a great nation.”
“I’m not ready, Father.”
“No one is ever ready. When your grandfather Ramses, the founder of our dynasty, left this earth for his home in the sun, I was as anxious and confused as you are today. Anyone seeking to rule is a fool or a madman. The hand of God alone can choose the one to walk down this path of sacrifice. As Pharaoh, you are your people’s first servant, a servant no longer permitted to rest or enjoy life’s simple pleasures. You will be alone, not desperately alone like a lost soul, but alone like the captain of a ship who must find the right course and discern the truth among all the mysterious forces surrounding him. Love Egypt more than yourself, and your course will be clear.”
The sunset bathed Seti’s peaceful face in gold; his body glowed with an aura, as if he were a source of light.
“There will be many obstacles in your path,” he predicted. “You will have to face powerful enemies, for man is too fond of evil. Look deep into yourself and you will find the courage to prevail. Nefertari’s magic will protect you. She has the heart of a Great Royal Wife. Be the falcon soaring in the sky, my son. See with the falcon’s eyes.”
Seti’s voice trailed off. His eyes looked beyond the sun, toward another world, one that he alone could see.
Shaanar was not quite ready to set his plans in motion. Seti was on his deathbed, that much was certain, but no official announcement had yet been made. A premature move would jeopardize everything; as long as Pharaoh was still alive, any rebellion would be unpardonable. He must move when the throne lay vacant for the sixty-six days of the mummification process. Then he would clearly be attacking Ramses, not his father. And Seti would not be around to uphold his choice of successor.
Menelaus and his soldiers were itching for a fight. Dolora and Sary had enlisted Iset the Fair, persuaded the high priest of Amon to maintain strict neutrality, and garnered the support of the Theban upper crust. Meba, the secretary of state, had deftly maneuvered in Shaanar’s favor at court.
Ramses was walking straight into a trap. The twenty-three-year-old crown prince was naive enough to think that his father’s word was all it took to put him on the throne.
How should Shaanar dispose of him? If Ramses surrendered gracefully, a token position in Nubia or a desert oasis would be appropriate. Even then, he might still be able to stir up some opposition, however feeble. He was too impetuous to adjust to exile. No, Ramses required a permanent solution. Death was the logical answer, but Shaanar balked at eliminating his own brother.
The easy way out would be sending him to Greece with Menelaus, with the official explanation that Ramses had renounced his claim to the throne and preferred to travel. The King of Sparta would hold him prisoner until he died, far from home and utterly forgotten. Nefertari could become a priestess in some distant provincial temple, her childhood dream.
Shaanar called for his hairdresser, manicurist, and his keeper of the wardrobe: the future ruler of Egypt must appear flawlessly groomed.
The Great Royal Wife personally announced Seti’s death to the court. In Year Fifteen of his reign, Pharaoh had turned his face toward the great beyond. Each night he would be reborn from his heavenly mother, appearing anew at the break of day. His fellow gods would welcome him to the netherworld, where he would live forever at one with Ma’at.
The period of mourning began immediately.
The temples were closed and religious rites discontinued, except for prayers for the dead each morning and evening. For sixty-six days, men refrained from shaving and women wore their hair down. No meat or wine was consumed; scribes stopped working, the government shut down.
Pharaoh was dead, the throne sat empty, and Egypt was in flux. It was a fearsome time, when Ma’at was in mortal danger. The queen mother and prince regent were close at hand, but still, the throne was vacant. The powers of darkness were rampant, eager to hold the country in their sway.
The border patrols were put on highest alert. The news of Seti’s death would spread quickly and excite an unhealthy interest. The Hittites and other hostile nations might attack the fringes of the Delta or launch a massive invasion. Seafaring pirates and Bedouin marauders also had their designs on Egypt. Seti had thwarted them. With Seti gone, would the country’s defenses crumble?
On the very day of his passing, Seti’s
corpse was transported to the hall of purification on the West Bank of the Nile. The Great Royal Wife presided over the tribunal called to judge the dead king. She, her sons, the vizier, the members of his council, religious and government leaders all testified under oath that Seti had been a just king and they had no complaint to lodge against him.
The living had reached their verdict. Seti’s soul could go to meet the ferryman, cross the river to the netherworld, and sail toward the stars. His mortal remains, however, must still be transformed into Osiris and mummified according to royal rituals.
Embalmers would remove the viscera, then desiccate the flesh with natron and exposure to sunlight. Then other mortuary priests would swathe the late Pharaoh’s body in strips of linen and he would depart for his eternal dwelling in the Valley of the Kings.
Ahmeni, Setau, and Moses were concerned. Ramses would see no one. After thanking his friends for their sympathy, he retreated to his private chambers. He spoke to Nefertari, but only barely, and even she failed to bring him comfort.
Adding to Ahmeni’s worries was Shaanar. Once he made a proper display of his grief, he seemed to be everywhere, contacting the heads of various agencies and generally taking matters in hand. He called on the vizier, insisting he merely hoped to be of service and help provide a smooth transition of power, with due respect to the period of mourning.
Tuya would have set him straight, except that her duty still lay with her husband. As the incarnation of the goddess Isis, she played a magical role in the mortuary rituals essential for Seti’s resurrection. Until the moment when Seti-Osiris was laid in his sarcophagus, or “master of life,” the Great Royal Wife would take no part in worldly affairs.
Nothing and no one stood in Shaanar’s way.
The lion and the yellow dog stuck close to their master, as if to console him.
His future had seemed so full of promise. He had only to listen to his father’s advice, obey him, follow his example. With Seti at his side, ascending to the throne would have been so simple. Ramses had never realized how alone he would be without his father’s all-seeing eyes to guide him.
Fifteen years’ reign. Much too short! Abydos, Karnak, Memphis, Heliopolis, Gurnah—so many temples proclaimed the glory of this great builder, who followed in the path of the Old Kingdom pharaohs. But he was gone, and Ramses felt his twenty-three years acutely: he was bent with sorrow, and still too young to be king.
Did he truly deserve to be called the Son of Light?
*In Ancient Egypt, a harem was not a gilded cage for beautiful women, but an important economic and cultural institution.
*Some sixty miles southwest of present-day Cairo.
*Memphis was at the intersection of upper and lower Egypt.
*The gods divided the universe between the warring brothers Horus and Set.
Ramses, Volume I Page 31