Then he caught sight of the smoke. A smile of relief broke across his face. They were close now. Just a few more steps. A freshly slaughtered calf was roasting on a blazing fire close to the tomb. Its burning fat created a thick, black pall that drifted down The Valley on a descending breeze. The rich odour pulled him onwards.
The Pharaoh’s entourage arrived at the tomb entrance first. Two oxen had towed the sled from the canal wharf. The great rocking canopy that housed the mummy of the king came to a halt. The mummy was removed and set to one side on its bier beside the queen and beneath a portable cloth canopy supported by four of the palace servant girls. The queen sat down on a folding stool to await the coffin procession. A Nubian boy fanned her lightly with ostrich feathers arranged at the top of a long golden stave. While she rested, the bearers disassembled the mummy canopy and carried the parts into the tomb. The oxen were led away. Out of sight of the funeral party they were slaughtered, dressed, and readied for the spit. Preparations for the forthcoming feast were well under way.
Meneg and his four colleagues at last arrived at the entrance and set their burden down on the gravel. The old wood carver stretched his aching arms and sat down with his friends on a convenient boulder.
The following canopic chest continued past them and was delicately manoeuvred down the steps and into the gently inclined corridor of the tomb. In the furthest chamber, standing against the rear wall, was the reassembled canopy that had protected the mummy on its journey across the river. The bearers gently laid the chest within it, checked its orientation and replaced the linen pall.
More stretcher-bearers brought in the walls of the shrine and busied themselves with its assembly. When it was complete, the four goddesses were carried in and placed gently within their prepared footprints fronting each wall. Their arms outstretched towards the corners, they surrounded their precious cargo in a protective embrace. For the first time, the artisans could view the object that they had spent the last two months fashioning fully assembled now in its appointed place for eternity. It occurred to more than one of them that, if history were anything to go by, its physical existence in this place likely would be something less than eternal.
Boxes, boats and caskets followed; a multitude of them, carried in one by one and placed in orderly fashion against the walls. The Hathor cow was brought in and set down at the front of the shrine, facing the doorway.
At last it was time for Meneg and his colleagues to carry in the shrine of Anubis. It was not easy to manoeuvre in the confined width of the first chamber. They positioned themselves between the poles that bore the shrine and, tilting it a little, managed to negotiate the turn to the right and gently placed the jackal in position on the threshold of the treasure room, staring outwards at the as yet empty, waiting sarcophagus. As his friends withdrew, Meneg took a solemn moment for a last look at the piece that in its creation had caused him so much grief.
The sharp, erect, gilded ears flickered in the light of the oil lamps and threw dim, waving shadows on the chamber walls. Apart from a little glint from the eyes and a faintest suggestion of a glimmer at the tip of the long snout, the black beast melted into the pervasive gloom. He reached out and touched one of the paws. Although he couldn’t see it he could feel what he alone had made and a sense of fulfilment welled within him. For ever now it would gaze on the boy king.
The noise from outside reminded Meneg that he had overstayed his time within the sepulchre. The coffin procession had arrived. The most holy part of the ceremony was about to begin. This was the burial of a king, and to dally more within this holy place and interrupt the orderly flow of the proceedings could be a capital offence. The old man pulled himself up into the antechamber and scrambled for the exit as fast as his tired legs would carry him.
But he was too late. As he emerged from the corridor at the bottom of the entrance stairway he spied the lead bearers of the outer coffin advancing backwards down the stairs. Before anyone could see him, Meneg turned and retreated down the corridor once more. He had to hide, at least for the time being, until he could find the right moment to exit unnoticed. He stumbled across the vacant floor of the antechamber to the small opening which led into the adjacent ancillary store room. Dropping flat to the floor, he hurriedly dragged himself through it. Unfortunately for Meneg his friend and colleague, Ugele, who had directed the fashioning of this place, had never taken the time to explain the architecture of the tomb to him and the old wood carver was quite unaware that the floor to this room was over two cubits below that of the first chamber. In his scrambling urgency he propelled himself into the small room headlong and fell unceremoniously to the floor, striking his head on the limestone and knocking himself out cold.
Unaware of the old artisan, the coffin bearers entered the tomb with the first and largest casket. It was manoeuvred through the entrance to the burial chamber and laid on a slack double sling adjacent to the sarcophagus, its head towards the west.
As soon as the bearers had left, a group of engineers entered the tomb. Using stout beams of wood, substantial ropes and crude pulleys they set about erecting a makeshift gantry. Its purpose was to lift the finally assembled coffins and mummy in their entirety and lower them safely into the sarcophagus. The gantry, built like a housing above the outer coffin, was mounted on two sleds, one at either end, resting on loose, horizontal poles. The poles acted as rollers, allowing the makeshift structure to pass clear of the ends of the sarcophagus as it was moved over it.
While the engineers completed their task, the two remaining coffins were brought into the tomb and laid in sequence beside the first again each of the bases laid on two slings.
Outside, the sun was about to touch the lip of the escarpment and bathe the bottom of The Valley in afternoon shadow. As it did so, Horemheb’s entourage arrived at the tomb entrance.
The royal party now assembled, the musicians arranged themselves in an arc and began to play. The girls ran to the centre of the arc and responded to the music with a slow, melancholy, swaying dance. The solemnity was lost on Horemheb, who instead found their movements sensual and was soon rapt by their performance. He warmed with anticipation.
In the shade provided by the queen’s canopy, Parannefer and one other raised the rigid mummy until it stood upright. Now taller than he had been in life, the mummy of Tutankhamun looked down on everyone. It positively towered above Ay. The old Pharaoh raised his head and squinted as he tried to look upon it, but the highly polished metalwork of the mask magnified the brilliance of the sun and at once he had to close his eyes and turn away.
The Anubis headed priest supported the mummy from behind while Ay, looking downwards, stood before it. In his hand he held a small crook like instrument. The music suddenly stopped. The dancing stopped. The dancers began to utter a low moan. The moan gradually rose in pitch until it became a high, wavering, shrill and piercingly long note reverberating within the valley walls. Ay, now acting as Horus to Tutankhamun’s Osiris and thereby claiming ascendancy, symbolically gestured with the instrument close to the mouth of the mask. The wailing grew all the louder, the mummy ‘spoke’, the ka of Tutankhamun was released, and the ascendancy was confirmed.
The roasted calf had been dismembered. The butchered oxen were now on the fire. The food bearers moved forwards to the mummy. A great tray of offerings of meat, vegetables, fruit, stuffed duck and goose, bread, beer and date wine was spread at its foot so that the dead king could take sustenance before embarking on his eternal journey.
The silence was punctuated only by the crackle of the nearby spit as the mummy took its meal, and all those present closed their eyes and bowed their heads. After a suitable pause, Parannefer waved the offerings away.
Now it was the widow’s moment. Ankhesenamun would hold a last communion with her dead husband. She came slowly forward and knelt before the mummy. Clasping it firmly around the hips, she drew the crimson body to her and pressed her lips hard against the vertical gold strap that ran to the mummy’s feet a gest
ure symbolic of drawing new life from its reincarnated spirit. The embrace lingered. The high priest gestured. Tia moved forward and touched the queen’s shoulder. She slowly, reluctantly, released, and the mummy was laid back to rest once more on its low bed.
Two of the lesser priests took hold of opposite ends of the king’s bier and, with some evident difficulty, carried the body carefully down the steps and into the tomb.
It was for the queen to follow, but before she did so Ankhesenamun bent down to open the box containing the two mummified bodies of her stillborn children. She lifted the lid of the tiny, nested coffins of the younger child and regarded the pathetic linen bundle inside. It barely filled half the available space. Carefully removing the small gilded mask, she leant over and tenderly kissed the head of the bundle, then gently covered the head again with the mask and replaced the coffin lids.
She opened the coffin set of the second diminutive body, removed the mask and once again embraced the tightly wrapped bundle. She paused. From the palm of her hand the tiny golden face stared fixedly upwards. It all came flooding back the feelings of remorse. Through their silent deaths, so much has been lost, she thought.
Tears stained her makeup. She began to shake. Impulsively she covered her face with her hands. In the flood of emotion she didn’t feel the mask slip from her fingers. She sobbed out loud. Tia reassembled the coffin lids, replaced both within the box which had held them and secured it. Gently she coaxed the queen to her feet and led her to the entrance of the tomb.
On the threshold of the burial chamber and in the glimmering light of the oil lamps the priests lifted the mummy from its bier and reverently placed it within the lower portion of the gold coffin. The bier itself they laid within the sarcophagus.
Followed by Tia, who carried the box containing the mummified children, the queen walked by the sarcophagus into the entrance to the treasury and, saying a short prayer, directed her senior maidservant to place the small burden before the Anubis shrine so that it would lie under the watchful eye and protection of the jackal. She took one step back, one long last look, and withdrew to the foot of the open gold coffin.
Those who were to witness or assist in the sealing of the coffins filed into the tomb behind the priests. As they descended the steps, the cooling cloak of early evening covered The Valley in twilight. Outside, the dancers continued their swaying. Their wailing was somewhat softer now and the rhythm of tinkling percussion filled the huge amphitheatre of The Valley. As the small party of mourners disappeared below ground level, the sounds gradually faded until they were but a lilting whisper to those within.
The priests appeared at the entrance to the chamber. Each carried two large jars of scented oils. They placed them at the feet of the queen. In this confined space were now gathered the four priests, Ankhesenamun, Ay, Horemheb each attended by a servant girl and, carrying linens and flowers of several varieties, ten labourers dressed in pure white tunics along with their supervisor, Rashid.
As Parannefer chanted a prayer, another priest took a scoop of oil from one of the jars and began to pour it slowly over the feet of the mummy shroud. Ladleful after ladleful, he worked his way up the body, stopping at the false hands. The mummy shroud progressively blackened as the unguents soaked into the fibres. The resinous liquid ran thickly over the shroud to find its own level, filling the gap between the mummy and the walls of the coffin. The dark fluid worked its way around and between the mummy mask and the back of the king’s head the body virtually floated in the anointing oils.
On a signal from Parannefer, Rashid gave an order to his men. They looped ropes through the carrying handles on the golden mummiform lid and slowly raised it until it was suspended above the lower portion of the casket and the mummy itself.
After another short prayer, the men lowered the lid into place. The silver tongues that would attach the lid firmly to its mate slotted comfortably into the mortices provided for them. As the lid connected with its base there was an echoing ‘clunk’, amplified within the confining rock walls. Tutankhamun’s mummy had disappeared from the sight of mortals forever.
The men hammered small gold pins through the coffin wall and into the silver dovetails now snug within the casing. Then they inserted poles into the loops at the ends of the slings which lay underneath the coffin and carefully took the weight of the massive gold body. Testing one another’s balance, they took the strain. The first coffin was slowly laid within the base of the second.
The prayers continued. In the relative stillness of the chamber the sounds of the musicians and dancers outside the tomb were barely audible. The Anubis headed priest took another ladle of anointing oil and, beginning once more at the feet, ceremoniously poured the glutinous unction over the casket all the way up to the hands. The golden shine that had until then sparkled in the flickering light of the oil lamps gradually dulled. The holy unguent slowly rose within the well of the lower casket until it reached within an inch or two of the lip.
Finally, the jars were empty.
Each royal member of the small congregation then took it in turns to place a floral or fruit remembrance on the chest of the anointed coffin. Ankhesenamun was the last, positioning a wide collar of blue glass beads delicately upon the upper chest. As she withdrew, the priest took a crimson linen sheet, folded so that it would fit the coffin lengthways, and tucked it tightly around the gold casket. As he stabbed his fingers around the edges, he felt the material soak up the fatty oils. He wiped his hands briskly on his tunic and signalled to the labourers’ supervisor.
Rashid gestured to his men. Four of them came forward to lift the lid of the second coffin and carefully position it on its base. The men attached the lid with pins just as they had done the first.
The weight of the two coffins together was now considerable. It took all ten labourers to lift it on its slings and lower it into the base of the third coffin. With the second coffin safe within the outer coffin base, the labourers cut the slings that had been supporting it and withdrew the linen from beneath.
The queen came forward and laid a tiny circlet of olive leaves on the uraeus at the coffin’s forehead. As she stepped back, the head man of the work team handed a folded cloth to the two priests, then backed away slowly with his head bowed. Unfolding it between them, the two laid it over the colourful coffin lid and, beginning at the feet, set about neatly tucking it in. The shroud ended up so tight that it revealed the contours of the casket, the hands, the tip of the stylised beard, the shape of the nemes headdress, even the nose itself.
It was Horemheb’s duty to lay a single necklace of olive leaves about the neck of the enshrouded mummy case. Pharaoh’s successor, Ay, followed, steadied by a priest. His arms laden with delicate garlands of spring flowers, he laid them one by one across the shroud, murmuring low, unintelligible incantations. He decorated the body from its neck to below the crossed arms and stepped back.
The final tribute came from the widow. She held a tiny floral wreath in her hands about the size of a bracelet. In the dim light of the chamber, like the others, it had no colour. Like the others it was made of folded olive leaves, sewn together in a circlet, each leaf capturing a tiny spray of spring cornflowers and blue lotus petals. Gently she laid the tiny garland over the lump in the shroud that reflected the uraeus beneath.
The royal entourage stood back and the labourers took up the final coffin lid and laid it exactly on its base. The pins were tamped home and, with no audible command, the queen and her royal party turned together, left the burial chamber and walked silently back to the surface.
The priests, the queen, the Pharaoh and the general went out to take refreshment, food and music. The labourers were left inside to complete the physically demanding task of securing the entirety of the coffin set within the sarcophagus and then constructing the shrine around it.
Ankhesenamun, Ay and Horemheb emerged from the tomb. The sun was gone, the moonless sky an indigo blue. But for the roaring fires of the feast lighting up the valley si
des with boiling flashes of red ochre and gold, The Valley would have been in total darkness.
The beat of the music, which had taken a slower turn during their time below ground, now picked up. It was a happy time; a time for celebration. The king had been embarked successfully on his journey. Servant girls rushed forward with trays of food, cooked meat, vegetables, fruit, trays of water, beer and date wine. The general took the wine and gazed leeringly at the assembled dancers. The queen took some fruit and stood beneath her canopy, her eyes cast solemnly downwards. And Pharaoh, assisted by one of his man servants, sat down in a folding chair, took some water and hoped he could fall asleep and that no one would notice.
Within the lowest empty chamber of the tomb a body stirred. Meneg had recovered his senses. Although his head ached his fearful mind was alert and focused on how he might extricate himself from this place without being detected. The ringing in his ears was entirely secondary. He heard voices. He pulled himself close by the entrance to the storeroom into which he had fallen and squinted to the left to see if he could catch sight of what was going on in the burial chamber. He was relieved to see that those of any status had left, at least for the time being. Noticing that the workers were concentrating entirely on their task, he took the risk of pulling himself up sufficiently to obtain a better view. He could clearly hear their conversation.
The coffin set had been successfully laid to rest on the low bier inside the stone sarcophagus. The exhausted workers quickly tucked two linen sheets tightly about the outer coffin and then turned to dismantling the gantry. Their next task was to lift the stone lid and position it securely in its place. The lid was heavy, but less heavy than the coffin set and easier to manage so, notwithstanding their fatigue, they accomplished the task with relative ease.
Taking some considerable trouble to centre the stone lid correctly, they began to lower it so that the carrying poles rested on the head end of the sarcophagus. This done, they slowly slid the poles out from under it, easing the head end into the open lip. Finally they pulled the poles clear.
Tutankhamun Uncovered Page 28