The Golden Falcon

by David C. Clark

  This unthinking remark was rewarded with a sharp look from Ramesses.

  “Sennefer, I know to whom I should address my questions. You will acquaint yourself with this information as soon as possible. My builder must have at his fingertips comprehensive knowledge of the kingdom’s entire resources. In fact, everything of value to us, as we build together.”

  Had I heard “To build together? What development was this?”

  “You looked a trifle perplexed. Come now, if you are to be my architect, you must prepare yourself. My father told me his task was to conceive ideas and others were to do the work.” He laughed “I have many ideas and you must work very hard. Now, my first problem is a simple one. I must announce to my subjects and those living in our vassal states they have a new king. Before you say anything, I am not happy just to let word of mouth spread these tidings.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  “Before we go further; when you are in my presence, and there are no others within hearing, you may call me Ramesses. I suspect I do not frighten you and whilst you show respect, you do not tremble at the sound of my name.”

  I made to protest, “Master…”

  “No, Sennefer, my name is Ramesses. Now, take your ease and let me explain, which I shall do with no false modesty. I believe I am destined to be a great king and I wish to move with swiftness to test my belief. My subjects do not know of me as yet. Possibly they have heard of my name, possibly not. This situation is to be corrected. You may not tremble but it is important my subjects show respect and understand why I demand this of them, and, yes, there are those who should quiver in fear at the name Ramesses. Do you know that, during the period the King List designates the thirteenth era, there were at least fifty-seven different rulers in two hundred and fifty years and not one of them commanded a jot of respect. Pharaohs rose and fell almost as frequently as the annual flooding and their names and achievements are now but dust swirling in the wind.” He paused to consult the map.

  “Why was this so? Because none of this coterie of claimants took the slightest opportunity to behave like a true king. A king rules. He does not sleep. He works to extend his power. Nothing comes without work and much effort. More importantly, if the people know they have a monarch who works hard, pays attention to the country and the needs of his subjects, they prosper but so does the pharaoh. I sit on the throne because of divine right. However, the throne can be taken by either the gods turning their back to me or by a usurper who detects I am weak and lack the support of the people, and I might add, the army. Remember Ay and Horemheb!”

  “It is essential that those I rule know who I am. You have at your disposal my entire resources – men, money and quarries. On my authority, you will commission new statues of my image and have them erected in temples, grand and modest. You will cause my proclamations to be inscribed on stellae and posted throughout the realm and all the lands I govern. By these means, my people would learn their pharaoh guides the destiny of Egypt and I extend my protective hand over the kingdom with a special gift never before bestowed upon earlier rulers.”

  “You are silent?” he queried. “I take your silence as agreement. I will issue the decrees, you shall attend to the production and distribution of the stellae. It will be your decision as to the size and style of my statues and their location other than in the major temples. In these special areas, you and I will work closely together.”

  I protested, “Ramesses, I am but your builder. I do not have the authority necessary to undertake your instructions. This is the province of the Vizier Paser and the Overseer of Works.”

  He raised his hand to silence me. “Sennefer, I shall issue instructions to both officials. Take this!” He handed me a ring engraved with Usermaetre-Setpenre, his throne name. “If needed, use it judiciously and with the maturity I suspect you possess. Now, I think you have a little work ahead of you. If you see your table clean, please knock on my door and I am sure I can find a few more things for you to attend to.”

  I left, surprised, mystified and deeply concerned about my ability to fulfil the king’s demands. Returning to my office, I reflected on the king and our system of government. The contours of the step pyramid at Saqqara mimicked the structure of our society. At the very apex stood Pharaoh, the sole and absolute ruler of all he surveyed. No man could question his command and all must obey or face not only swift punishment meted out by the king but the retribution of the gods who guided and nurtured him.

  Beneath the king, on the next level of the pyramid, are the serried ranks of the priesthood who performed the liturgy to the gods. Yet, in matters religious, there was no person higher than the king and only with his consent did the priestly classes monitor their internal hierarchy of position and power. Slightly lower were the king’s administrators, members of noble families and military leaders and beneath those finely graduated ranks were the teeming masses of the king’s subjects forming the broad foundation of the pyramid.

  The majority of the people were poor, illiterate and eked out their existence in agrarian pursuit. From the far reaches of the Delta to the southern fringes lost in the sands of the Upper Nubian Desert, multitudes of labourers, farmers, artisans, merchants, traders and their families lived a life remote from the elite living in the rarefied air at the pinnacle of government.

  Few would ever see their king in person. For those fortunate enough to live near the Great Amun Temple in Thebes, they might glimpse the imperial presence when the king came to celebrate the Opet Festival in Akhet, the second month of the inundation or during the observance of the Beautiful Festival of the Valley at the advent of the new moon in the second month of the Shomu season. For those living in proximity to the temples in Memphis and Abydos, there were festive days on which the cult gods of those cities were venerated and, periodically during his reign, the king might attend such celebrations.

  If the pharaoh was alert to the needs and curiosity of his subjects, he would make offertories at many temples during his travels. At these services, the people would have an opportunity to see their king as he moved from his palace to the temple before he made entrance to the inner sanctuaries where the cult figures of the gods reposed. Worship of the gods within their shrine rooms was forbidden to commoners as this was a sacrament restricted to the king and the priesthood’s highest echelons.

  What the people can see of the ruler’s presence were the tableau inscribed on temple walls and pylons. One of my early commissions, before my elevation to the rank of royal architect, was to extend the inscriptions on the girdle wall surrounding the central court at the Amun Temple in Karnak, first decreed by Tuthmosis III.

  At the temple, subjects saw their king graphically portrayed in the company of the deities. Ramesses would one day be shown anointing the lioness head of Mehyt, raising up a pillar of Heliopolis to Atum, presenting bread to Re-Harakhty, offering incense to Amun, raising two obelisks and incense to Re, receiving jubilee symbols from Amun in the company of Khonsu-Neferhotep, presenting a miniature barque to Ptah-Sokar-Osiris, offering flowers to Neith, running a sed foot race towards Bastet and consecrating a haunch of meat to Horus amongst dozens of similar acts of veneration. Comparable scenes are to be found on every monumental wall throughout the country and, by this means, the king made his presence felt in a most striking manner.

  The first commission from the king showed his wisdom, as it overcame the limitations imposed by geography. Because of the Nile valley’s length, the country’s major cities were widely spread, whereas his subjects swarmed like ants in settlements clustered on the narrow band of fertile land along its banks.

  Imperial administration was conducted at both Pi-Ramess and Memphis. Thebes, a city warm in the bosom of the Ramesside kings, housed a small royal palace, the buildings of his provincial administrators and the tabernacles at Karnak and Luxor. Then, there are some thirty major towns and thousands of villages.

  When I received the royal proclamations, I discerned the first inkling of his belief in his
divinity. Should the king face the western horizon, he watched the Sun God begin his voyage from the hours of darkness in the Underworld from behind Dehenet, the mountain peak standing sentinel over the royal tombs in the the Great Place. At dawn, he was lit by the Sun God, in the manifestation of Re-Harakhty, borne aloft on his barque, spreading his warmth upon the land during his passage across the firmament.

  Each night, during the barque’s nocturnal passage through the Underworld, the Sun God seeks to defeat the challenge of the Great Snake Apophis whose intent is to extinguish the brilliant sun. Perpetually, Amum-Re, aided by Thoth, Seth and Horus, defeat this deadly challenge. It is the presence of the pharaoh, seated behind Amun-Re on the barque, that strengthens Seth as he plunges his spear into the coils of Apophis and, in this noble fight, the king fulfils part of his responsibility to his heavenly father.

  This was the received teaching. Notwithstanding this orthodoxy, Ramesses harboured no doubt he was enthroned on the solar barque next to the gods, not in spiritual union with Horus but at their side as an equal. Unlike all the kings who came before him, Ramesses believed he had been sent to earth, not as a mystic incarnation of Horus but as a god himself. The thought crossed my mind there might be danger involved in working for a man who thought he was a god.

  The king had inherited a strong body of bureaucrats. The foremost administrator, Vizier Paser, was a man of consummate skill and dedication and the realm’s administration worked as a well oiled mechanism. Governance throughout the provincial districts was almost flawless and corruption had been ruthlessly stamped out under Seti. In gratitude for the restoration of ma’at, Hapi, the river god, assured the annual inundation. Royal granaries were full, yields from the imperial quarries and mines increased and the golden caravans from Nubia reached the capital untroubled by bandits.

  In pharaoh’s opinion, I, Sennefer, Architect Royal, had been another fortuitous legacy. I worked under the Overseer of Works during the last years of Seti’s rule and, although only a few years older than Ramesses,I was comfortable in a quiet knowledge of my skill and considered I had a flair for innovative design. Despite my wife’s less charitable observations, my only flaw was a slight degree of irreverence towards the gods and, on occasion, even to the king, an unfortunate trait potentially fatal to my career.

  The morning brought another summons to the palace. On arrival, I was immediately ushered into the royal presence. Ramesses bade me sit at his table and enquired “You are well this day, O Mighty Builder?”

  “Ramesses,” I replied easily “The Sun God rides high on his solar barque, the river sparkles, my morning repast of fish and fowl was delightful and I am at your pleasure. What would you have me build? A palace befitting your new reign, perhaps a temple at Abydos or something as prosaic as a latrine block for the royal army at Pi-Ramess?”

  “Sennefer, your lack of reverence to the royal presence puts me in mind to urgently despatch you to the Syrian Desert to supervise the building of a long row of defensive walls. I am told the solitude of the desert soon reduces the arrogance of men to manageable levels. Such a project is worthy of your skills, as the Hittites become restive again. A series of battlements may remind them to temper their hearts against a military adventure and I am sure a tiresome period of some years in Syria would be good for your soul.”

  I was momentarily taken aback, unsure of how far I could presume on my relationship. It was true the Hittites were showing renewed signs of aggression. More soldiers and weaponry were being moved to the fortress of Pi-Ramess as a precaution. Amongst my commissions from Seti was a new arsenal in the military city and, whilst life in the Western Delta was pleasant, I was sure the Syrian Desert would be a living nightmare. Building walls in the desert made no practical sense as the Hittites were highly mobile in their chariot borne warfare but a new ruler may harbour fresh ideas for defensive strategies. I would need to take care in my dealings with this king.

  “Master, forgive my levity. Perhaps the Palestinian wine I imbibed at table last night has brought unwarranted flippancy to my tongue. I meant no disrespect.”

  Ramesses gave me a direct look. “Sennefer, you accorded my father excellent service and he spoke highly of you. During my reign, I will need men at my side I can trust, men who will address me as friends and bearers of truth. The palaces and temples are full of those who would speak to me in words they hope I wish to hear. I rule a very large country, many are those who would seek to deceive me, many are foolish and harbour in their hearts ill thoughts. You, with others I trust, will be my eyes and ears within the kingdom. My position does not readily allow me to meet my subjects and hear the opinions of my subjects.”

  I returned the king’s close gaze. “I need men who can help me build Egypt into a mighty country, men with whom I can share these tasks. I need a man who can build great monuments to the gods as they guide not only my fate but the destiny of my people. Are you such a man?”

  “Your Majesty, you do me singular honour. Your father spoke of you and his hopes before his untimely passage to the Afterlife. We are both young men and you will face many challenges and opportunities in the future. Whilst it is unhappily true my tongue sometimes seems to lead a life of its own, I am gratified you believe me worthy. I will remain mindful of the Syrian Desert, although I have heard, though the nights are cold, the women of the desert wastelands are warm.” We both laughed at my salacious quip.

  “Great Architect, do you enjoy hunting? We need to know each other well before I embark on my exploits as a builder. What better way to know a man than when he faces a lion or hippopotamus?”

  I must have paled somewhat at this remark. “Sire, forgive me but hunting was never high on my apprenticeship activities. Truly, I once accompanied your father on a lion hunt but it was he who faced the beast. I merely observed from my well guarded chariot some distance from the hunting ground.”

  “Sennefer, you are young, strong of body and mind. I accept you are not now skilled in the arts of the hunt but this slight disadvantage will soon be overcome. It is said when a man kills a lion, he is granted the animal’s courage. When he kills a hippopotamus, he is granted its strength. To kill an antelope makes you fleet of foot. To catch a fish gives you a mouthful of bones. Do you want to eat bones all your life?”

  Not waiting for my response he continued “If you are uncommitted today, I ask you join me for some adventure. I have received reports of a lion menacing people at a village to the south of Thebes. Would your wife not want you to have the heart of a lion? Of course, I can also call for some fishing lines if this is your preferred sport.”

  I could see I was going to pay for my impertinence and that to befriend this young king was to be challenged by him until we had tested each other’s mettle and not be found wanting. Gathering what little courage I possessed, I indicated my readiness to take my first lessons in the hunt. The king smiled again, leaned closer and whispered,

  “You will notice that I bring many skilled archers and spearman should the lion we hunt have bigger balls than me. Fear not. You will see your wife again tonight.”

  We walked to the front of the palace where a fleet of chariots was drawn up in line abreast. As we arrived, a squad of archers and spearman mounted their vehicles. The king waved me over to a chariot next to his. Obviously amused at my discomfort, he asked “You are sure I should not send for some fishing equipment?” I smiled wanly and mounted my chariot with a sinking heart.

  My charioteer, a well muscled native of Thebes, told me to hold onto the handrail. He cracked his whip over the heads of the two horses that drew the vehicle and we sped off into the desert with the other members of the hunting party. It took only a short time to reach the village near where the presence of a lion had been reported. The village elder came forward and prostrated himself before the king. When he rose, there was a brief discussion and the elder was told to mount one of the chariots. Ramesses gestured with his arm to the south east and we were away again.

  Turning inland s
ome distance, we came upon a considerable limestone outcrop rising out of the desert sand ahead of us. The king lifted his arm and the chariots stopped. We alighted and a line of archers and spearmen spread out on either side of Ramesses. My driver handed me a compound bow and quiver full of bronze tipped arrows. Ramesses beckoned me to his side, notching an arrow into his bow and instructed me to do the same. Flanking us, two archers also armed their bows and they were reinforced by spearmen holding their weapons in readiness.

  “You are ready?” asked Ramesses. I nodded my mouth too dry to reply. Cold sweat dampened my brow and torso. “Keep your hands dry as you may need to load and shoot arrows swiftly once we come upon the beast. Do not worry; you are well protected by my men.”

  The men were moving to encircle the outcrop. We heard the lion roar. Ramesses signalled to the men at the end of the lines to move in more quickly. I could see he intended the lion to be fenced in by the encircling men and forced to leap out towards us. We had stopped some fifty metres from the face of the outcrop and the lion could be seen sheltering under an overhanging rock. He was up on his feet and swaying his heavy head side to side, the black fringed mane in sharp contrast to the glint in his yellow eyes. He roared once again and settled onto his haunches in a pose my cat adopted when it was about to pounce on a mouse. Oh, that I could be at home at this moment, playing with my cat.

  With lightning speed the lion charged us. The king loosed off an arrow and swiftly pulled another from his quiver. I shot my arrow at the charging animal which seemed alarmingly close. The king shot again, his arrow hitting the beast in the chest. The animal kept coming and was now only metres away. Ramesses stood his ground and let loose another arrow. I felt the need to flee. At the moment when panic was about to overtake me, the king bellowed “Spearmen.” The four spearmen who had been at our side jumped forward and formed a line in front of us, their spears bedded into the sand and aimed at the beast which impaled itself on the wicked points, breaking two of the spears in the process and knocking the spearmen down. The animal lay mortally wounded at our feet, blood trickling from its breast where two of the king’s arrows had found their mark.