The Golden Falcon
Page 25
“The quarry master at Aswan quite clearly stated any vessel of standard design would either sink or break its keel under the stress of the heavy load you must transport. I believe it possible to build a raft of Tyrean cedar logs lashed together with as many layers as it takes to make a vessel large enough to take the burden of these statues. Such a vessel would have no timbered sides, no bow or stern but would be fitted with rudders like a conventional barque. It may be necessary to fit such a vessel with sails or benches for oarsmen to row or steer the vessel down to Thebes. The vessel I have in mind can sink below water level as long as it still floats. It is of small consequence if the cargo gets wet.”
“It may be desirable to ship the statues late in the inundation so, when they arrive, they can be manoeuvred into the unloading quay and settle on the bottom as the waters recede, a benefit to those who have to drag the sled and statue off the platform. Sitting on the river bed means the platform will be stable because it will not tip as the sled is dragged to its side. Here, consider carefully these drawings and give me your comments.”
I had prepared some very quick drawings of logs lashed together in layers. If the idea worked, the watermen could add any marine fittings to make it a navigable vessel. “Those of you who built vessels will have to determine how wide and long this floating platform must be to ensure the cargo does not cause it to dip so far into the water that it capsizes. I know nothing of these matters. The question is- can it be done?”
After much sceptical comment, the most senior of the watermen, Imhotep, spoke up, saying he thought the idea had merit. “Lord Sennefer, I know cedar logs are very expensive. May I suggest we use another timber from the North – pine? Pine does not become waterlogged as does cedar. It is heavier, more durable and inexpensive. Would it be possible to arrange a delivery of such logs?”
I had no idea but could quickly find an answer and order a consignment. I knew this timber. Pine trees yielded a very inferior timber, which is sticky with resin and full of knots. Sawing this timber is tiresome as resin caused blades to bind and it found no favour with the carpenters and woodworkers in the kingdom.
“I will leave you to discuss this matter amongst yourselves. I work on land, you on water. These drawings show the dimensions and weight of the statues as they are delivered to the quay at Aswan. Quay Master, you will build a dedicated quay to accommodate the fine vessels these water rats design. Consult me when you are ready. Gentlemen, I leave you to your labours. When you are finished, let my office know the quantities and size of pine logs you require and I will arrange a shipment as soon as possible. You will have funds to arrange any trials you find necessary and your time will be well repaid by the royal treasury. Please submit your names to my scribe as I will discuss your rewards with the king, if you are successful. One last point. These vessels will have to be built at Aswan as I do not see how you would move such ungainly craft up the river against the current.”
On that note, I left an enthusiastic group volubly jabbering away at the table. I felt very pleased with myself. With luck and the skills of Nebumun, the watermen and the Master of the Quay, I might just be able to satisfy pharaoh’s latest whim and, with a blessing from the gods, my wife and I would have a very pleasant reunion that night.
Chapter 18 - DEATH ON THE NILE
Egypt- 1250 BC
I woke, my sleep disturbed by a heavy knocking on our bedroom door. I rose from the bed, my wife also waking at the noise, and opened the door. My man servant stood before me, dishevelled, tears streaming down his face.
“What is wrong, Nakht? What has happened?” I enquired, thinking some crisis had afflicted my household staff.
“Oh, Master, a vessel has just arrived from Memphis carrying the news that Queen Nefertari is dead.” he whimpered, wiping the tears from his cheeks with his hand.
“Impossible. There must be some mistake. She was only here a month ago.” said my wife, who sprang out of bed on hearing the dreadful tidings.
“Mistress, I am sorry. There is no mistake. The news was carried by royal barque and announced by her second son himself. A royal messenger was sent here by the prince as soon as his vessel docked.”
Ipi burst into tears and clung to me. I gentled her, which in no way lessened my own sorrow. Our man servant, deeply distressed, retired discreetly into the living quarters.
“This is terrible news. Ramesses must be overwhelmed with grief. Beloved, we must pay our condolences to the prince. He will need our support for he knows we were close friends of his mother.”
We dressed in silence, my wife’s tears still flowing freely,her slender body shuddering with sobs. I offered what little comfort I could provide as I knew she had lost a warm and devoted friend. We had known the king since his ascension some twenty five years ago and my thoughts turned to Ramesses. Whilst he would not be alone in Memphis at this moment, as many of his children would be with him, I knew he would be solitary in his grief. Ramesses was estranged from his younger sister and would not turn to her for consolation. She had not married well and was banished from court activities.
Death in battle, whilst campaigning with his father many years ago, had claimed the king’s elder brother. It was a minor skirmish against a vassal state who thought to rise in revolt against Egypt when they heard Seti’s father had joined the gods. Seti quickly and ruthlessly quelled the rebellion. Ramesses spoke not of his brother and removed his names and titles from the few monuments recording his existence.
I knew the elder brother had married two of his sisters and fathered children from these unions. Of other siblings, I had no knowledge and Ramesses made no reference to his brother and sisters during his lifetime. Possibly, brothers were pushed into the priesthood or sent to remote provincial capitals where they could pose no threat to the king. Any sisters would have married into the nobility.
Unhappily, as is the way of life in Egypt, Ramesses had suffered the lost of several children. Mysterious illnesses took children to the grave and even our most experienced doctors could not offer grieving parents anything other than platitudes. Priests put these early deaths down to fate, which was cold comfort when Ipi and I endured the loss of our second son at a tender age. Many parents became philosophical about the death of their children, as so many died, but I knew from my wife’s many visits to our tomb, her feelings were not based on anything other than the injustice of our son’s early death.
Osiris had wielded death’s scythe again, this time cutting very high, though all was in readiness for him to receive the fruit of his harvest. Well before her death, the queen’s tomb had been completed and temporarily sealed. Her close participation in the arrangement of the sacred decorations led to the creation of an exquisite jewel. At her final inspection, she had pronounced herself well satisfied saying, with an infectious laugh, she hoped not to see the inside again for many, many years. That time had come.
Death, always this obsession with death. The mausoleum for the royal offspring continued to expand to accommodate more children. Contrary to tradition, Ramesses decided all his male children would be interred in the common grave even if their mothers were only concubines. As soon as another child was born, I received notification of the event from the vizier. This news allowed me to ensure there were sufficient chambers to hold the swelling ranks of royal progeny. The king’s virility was never in question, given the number of extensions I was compelled to make. A dedicated team from the artisan’s village only stopped enlarging the tomb when the king, a little sadly, informed me his days of bedroom sport were now but memories. By then, the tomb had been transformed into a small and exclusive necropolis.
When the king took ownership of the tomb, it had a short corridor and two small chambers. On his instruction, I drew up some plans based on conventional designs. My first proposal was to drive another corridor from the rear of the existing chamber and split it into a double corridor off which were burial chambers, with individual side rooms for funerary goods. The king looked at the plan
and discarded it.
“Sennefer, understand this mausoleum will house my progeny who will be as numberless as grains of wheat in a field before the harvest. Today, I have twelve children with four more in the egg. They must be welcomed to the Afterlife in a manner befitting the king’s children for they spring from my planting of divine seed. So,keep the first two chambers as we found them but you will build this.” He sketched a very large room which ultimately required sixteen supporting columns. “This will be the Hall of Decorations.”
He enlarged the drawing. “Off the hall, you will add two chambers. The room on the northern side - The Chamber of Veneration - will house shrines to our gods. The southern room is for the provender my children need to nourish them in the Afterlife. Temple priests are to be instructed to deliver food to this room frequently as the tomb will remain open until the death of my last child.”
“Now, follow this.” He drew two passageways that extended back from the pillared hall and sloped downwards. Off both, he drew twelve smaller chambers facing a similar number opposite them. This provided twenty-four crypts. “At the end of each of the long corridors, you will build this.” He added two larger chambers. “These will house funerary goods. I shall select household furniture, chariots and whatever I believe my children will need in eternity. Once these storerooms are replete with worldly goods, they will be sealed, never to be opened again. Whilst I am alive, none will be permitted to nominate what personal items they wished to have in their crypt other than jewellery and clothing.”
“I expect many of my sons will achieve prominence in their life and they may have their own tombs in a necropolis of their choice. Only the son who succeeds to the throne will have his tomb in the Great Place. Those who fail to make their mark on our society or die before they attain greatness will have to settle for the mausoleum. None will be interred with me. Daughters may choose to be interred with their mothers but I leave that decision to the womenfolk.”
The design Ramesses developed for his children’s mausoleum was a significant departure from tradition. The high priest told me, when we were discussing suitable wall decorations, some earlier kings had arranged to have their wives interred with them and, on occasion, their children, although this was apparently quite unusual. Royal children were either buried in the valley reserved for the queens or they elected to be buried in their own tombs in the Theban necropolis or elsewhere in the kingdom. He did not know what happened to children from concubines, as these were not considered to be royal children, merely the result of idle moments of royal pleasure not legitimised by marriage.
Understandably, the king did not spend lavishly on the funerals of his children unless they had conducted themselves bravely on the battlefield or evidenced exceptional talents. During my inspection of new extensions, I visited the crypts accommodating the coffins of the royal children. I knew Ramesses eldest son and heir, Prince Amunherkhepeshef, the first fruit of his union with Queen Nefertari, lay within the tomb. The prince, born before Ramesses became king, had been struck down during one of Ramesses’ military forays into Palestine. His premature death caused the king to grieve deeply.
Apart from an elaborate coffin, beautifully decorated in semi-precious stones and crisply inscribed, the prince’s crypt held no possessions other than his ceremonial iron dagger in its jewelled sheath which lay reverentially on the lid of his coffin and a garland of flowers bearing the inscription ‘Beloved of his mother, Nefertari.’
At the time of the queen’s passing, the royal children’s mausoleum had several occupants. Many of the internments were of very young princes and princesses who had not reached adulthood. Several years ago, I was inspecting work on the king’s tomb when a funeral procession entered the valley and proceeded to his children’s sepulchre. The cortege was only attended by a small party of priests and one official from the vizier’s office. Four priests carried on their shoulders a small gilded bier on which lay an elegant gold foiled coffin less than a metre long. To my mind, there is nothing as sorrowful as the funeral of a child. Many of the workmen wept as the procession passed us. Even though the death of a child was a commonplace, its finality was no less touching.
In his thirtieth year, the king had commanded the tomb be enlarged yet again and teams of artisans toiled within the structure. On the day of the child’s funeral, I had ordered workmen to clear the mausoleum of their tools, sweep it free of debris and screen the work area so the royal child could be interred with dignity. At the end of the service, the workmen remained sitting opposite the tomb’s entrance showing no willingness to resume their labours. The foreman came to see me about their reticence.
“Royal architect, unhappily I must inform you that I and my men will not work any more this day.” he said, eyes downcast.
“What is the problem, Maya?”
“The dead child’s soul will visit the tomb and we are afraid the gods will be angered and punish us for disturbing the ba bird as it seeks out the body.”
I had not been confronted with this problem before and was not sure how to respond. Tomb masons and artisans were a ribald lot and some of the remarks they scratched on mausoleum walls during construction would be regarded with horror by the priests. I remembered an amusing occasion when it was announced, without warning, the king would visit his tomb to inspect progress. There had been much hasty application of plaster to walls and energetic erasure of graffiti from freshly cut limestone surfaces before the arrival of the Pharaoh.
Ramesses and I secretly enjoyed the workmen’s discomfort as they stood red-faced when he arrived. The king was familiar with artisan humour and took no offence at graffiti he saw on his many visits to monuments under construction. We both knew of a simple line drawing well at the rear of Queen Hatshepsut’s mortuary temple, showing her in a most indelicate pose with her vizier. No doubt, one of the workmen had caught wind of her sexual indiscretions with her most trusted advisor and sought to record his crude thoughts for posterity.
The situation I now faced was without precedent. Normally, work in tombs had always been completed before their occupants were interred, even when a king had died prematurely. There is a period of at least seventy days from the death of a king during which time his body was prepared for the internment. This interregnum allowed workmen to rapidly complete any unfinished aspect of the tomb or make it as presentable as possible for the funeral. At the conclusion of the internment, it was sealed.
In the royal children’s mausoleum, the gateway to the first section was open and the crypts only closed by wooden doors. To stop any possibility of theft, Royal Guards were permanently stationed outside the entrance. Even I felt un-nerved when I walked down the stairways to the crypts, knowing there are coffins lying on their stone biers behind the cedar doors. The silence was profound and the feeling of being watched by Anubis, Osiris and the other gods inscribed upon the walls was disconcerting.
“Maya, tell the men to go home now and return two days hence.” I instructed. “I will consult the high priest as this is a matter on which he alone can rule. I can tell you it is my belief that the soul of a young child is innocent of sin and pure of heart. The gods will not harm you or your men as you are all of good heart, even if your language is foul and the words you write on walls are less than respectful.”
Maya laughed, returned to his men and gave them the order to go home. That afternoon, I sought audience with the high priest, who acknowledged the terror of the artisans whom he knew to be highly superstitious, despite their rough humour.
“Sennefer, let me think on this matter as it is one new to me and possibly not addressed in our rituals. I will have the archivist search for a prayer that will allow the men to resume their work whilst not creating any offence to the dead child’s soul. Obviously, if the extensions are to take some years, there may be more funerals during the time and this situation will surely re-occur. Have no fear, we priests can be very pragmatic when required and I am sure we can find a ritual that will suffice.”
We followed the priests, who stopped at the top of stairways leading down to the lower crypts. The younger priest handed the elder priest an ankh, the symbol of life, which he held high over the entrance. He declaimed in a resonant voice. “I come in the name of Amun and Osiris and Isis to shield these vaults against all evil. I entrust the god Bes to protect this holy place and remain as its guardian against all harm. Lord Osiris, who is with us now and always, will guide the souls of the children to their bodies lest they wander aimlessly throughout the vaults. Bes will stand here and here.” pointing the ankh at the pillars flanking the entrance to the lower corridors. Glancing at me he turned to the workmen. “You must not be fearful as you work in this holy place. It is a place of joy, not of sorrows, as the souls of the departed are re-united with their earthly bodies.”
He raised his arms upwards. “Lord of the Afterlife and Lords of the Heavens, guide and preserve these men as they labour in the name of our king, Ramesses, Son of Horus and beloved of Amun.” With this last blessing, he and his acolyte swirled their robes dramatically and swept out of the tomb on silent feet. The effect on the men was miraculous. They smiled and joked, picked up their tools and moved through the pillared hall and towards the rock face. I thought, as I left, if only everything in life could be so easily resolved.