The Golden Falcon

by David C. Clark

  “I remembered reading a minor detail in one of the ancient papyrus scrolls Bakenkhons found for me at Thebes, a papyrus I destroyed after making a copy omitting the reference. The report mentioned using sand as a locking mechanism in lowering masonry into position. Imagine a masonry receptacle full of fine sand. Next, imagine your closed sarcophagus sitting on top of the sand with the sarcophagus slightly smaller than the inner dimensions of the receptacle. Then, if the sand runs out of the bottom of the receptacle, your sarcophagus will sink just as this little toy settled into your palms. Then the lid of the sarcophagus will be flush with the upper surface of the receptacle and be indistinguishable from it, save for a fine line.”

  “How do you get the sand to run out of the enclosure and where does it go?”

  I withdrew another item from the chest - a cone shaped pottery mould used to bake our bread.

  “The floor of the receptacle will have openings for the sand to run out. Until we are ready, the sand will be restrained by these little cones. Once your coffins are safely housed in the sarcophagus, the cones are struck, they break and the sand runs out into another chamber under the one above. Next time you are in Thebes, I will give you a demonstration. However, there is more. Forgive my levity but now I have your bodies in a basalt box sunk into an enclosure but, as you commanded me to build this crypt in Thebes, I am faced with the problem of weak limestone.”

  Ramesses sat beside me as a child before a teacher, a sensation I secretly savoured as it is a rare event to have a pharaoh hanging on one’s words.

  “Theban limestone is a terrible material with which to work if security is the most important consideration. It is soft, prone to flaking, fracturing and very easy to quarry. In my mind, I can see evil men tunnelling into the limestone surrounding your basalt sarcophagus and freeing it from its insubstantial shell. Even though I would prefer to build your new mausoleum other than in the Great Place, the problem remains the same no matter where it could be built. Apart from Aswan granite and other hard stone, we live in a world of soft stone. The solution is to build a basalt vault within the limestone of the Theban Hills so your sarcophagus is then encased in a larger one of basalt. Did you observe the paving around the great pyramid?”

  “Unfortunately I did not but continue to impress me, Sennefer. I am truly amazed with what you have described so far.”

  “The paving blocks are of irregular shape but laid in such a way they all fitted together into a homogeneous surface. At Giza, they were laid straight onto the sandstone ridge supporting the pyramids with the addition of a little gypsum acting as a levelling mortar and the entire pavement was set into a vast rectangle cut into the sandstone – none of the stones will move about as they are captured within the sunken perimeter. This will not work in my armoured crypt.”

  Reaching into the chest, I extracted the next items - basalt tiles of a specific shape with alternate dovetails and corresponding apertures cut into or off the sides. The edges were drilled with another series of small holes. I produced ten of these unusually shaped tiles and proceed to place copper pins into every second set of holes. Then I laid them on the floor, connecting each tile’s dovetail into a corresponding aperture cut into its brother. When assembled, I had produced a small square of tiles locked into each other. On the outer edges of the square, dovetails protruded, permitting the sequence to go on endlessly. To show Ramesses how securely the assembly held together I picked it up, shook and then threw it to the ground. None of the tiles slipped out of place.

  “How did you achieve this little piece of wizardry?”

  “The dovetails lock the plates together but the secret lies in the copper pins that stop the assembly separating and twisting apart.”

  “Now I have versatile armour plating. I propose excavating a very large chamber in the limestone and then lining it with layers of basalt tiles locked into each other. Then, if thieves tunnel into the limestone, they will hit walls of basalt. I think two layers will be enough. In the middle of the basalt crypt there will be the enclosure holding your basalt sarcophagus. But merely letting your sarcophagus into a basalt block is not, in my opinion, enough. First, the block in which your sarcophagus nestles will be made of many layers of these interlocked tiles. Sitting above the lower block will be a massive lid made in the same fashion as the base. The lid will be supported on pillars sitting on sand filled tunnels left in the lower half of the main block. Around the inner lid there will be rectangular sections that fit almost exactly around each other with each additional section also resting on pillars sitting on their tunnels of sand. As your sarcophagus sinks into its nest, the lower edge will break another series of clay pots, releasing more and allowing the first section of the lid to descend onto your sarcophagus.”

  “As this section settles, the end of its supporting pillars will smash more clay pots, more sand will run out and the first rectangular frame will descend and shroud the block now covering your sarcophagus. As the first frame descends, its pillars will break more clay pots and the second frame will descend. This process will continue until all the upper frames have descended. You will be encased in a solid block measuring at least three metres in each direction from your coffins. A series of holes left in the lower block will allow the sand to drain out and fill voids left underneath the whole structure. In effect, you will be locked into a monolith of basalt that cannot be breached no matter from which direction a thief may consider tunnelling. I have designed the clay pot system to be broken by one man. He need smash just one pot to activate the entire mechanism. No-one but one man, myself, need be in the tomb at the final moment.”

  “You can do this?” he questioned, wonderment evident in his voice

  “Some time ago, Ramesses, when you asked me if I could create and erect the two colossi now gracing your mortuary temple and I was doubtful of its achievement, you said, with my skill, your wealth and the blessing of the gods, anything could be done. I believe I can build you an impregnable sarcophagus but what I have described so far is not the end of the matter. I will succeed in building a fortress to protect your body and that of Nefertari but I still have not explained how I propose to further protect your bastion and then to hide your tomb.”

  “There is more?”

  “The evil intent of men knows no boundaries nor is it limited by time and, to be honest, whatever I design may be overcome. I must therefore take your commission as far as it is within my power to develop. If I may be so bold, you have been my friend for these many years and it is my duty and honour to do what little I can to safeguard your eternal life and rightful place amongst the gods.”

  “We enjoy a strange and rare friendship. I, a king, who truly believes he is divine and you, ever the pragmatic builder, are not sure the gods exist. Despite the difference, you are still the man I met many years ago and judged to be of good heart and resolute spirit. Your friendship is of greater value to me than the sum of my wealth and power. Whether you wish to acknowledge it or not, it is my fervent belief you were brought to my side by divine providence. Pharaoh Djoser and his builder, Imhotep, Amenhotep and his builder, Ahhotep, and now you and I enjoy a relationship rare amongst men. Enough of this. My eyes may mist. Tell me more of your schemes.”

  On hearing this sentiment, I lost any sense of superiority over my king and saw him truly as a friend of the heart. I cleared my throat, which had begun to choke with emotion.

  “Your basalt crypt must be built so strongly, it is impossible to breach. I remember asking Meketre the purpose of the long tunnel under your father’s sarcophagus. He seemed reluctant to discuss this tunnel but when I pressed, he said Seti wanted to drive a tunnel deep into the earth so his spirit would be in communion with the Primeval Waters surrounding our land, the waters from which Atum created all substance.”

  “Yes. His attitudes were based on an unshakeable conviction in our foundation beliefs. He drew upon the legend of Atum, the Creator, as he believed Atum’s tears made the earth, the air and time itself. In his
last hours, he confided his belief he was infused with the spirits of all the former rulers of Egypt since Menes, the Kingdom’s founder.”

  Ramesses reminisced. “My father had a special devotion to Osiris, one in which I share and it is why he commenced work on the Cenotaph of Osiris at Abydos, though he could not complete it before he journeyed to the Afterlife. I resolved to visit Abydos after celebrating my ascension to see what progress had been made. The city was a disgrace. Most of the earlier royal monuments were in a terrible state and, at my father’s temple, only the front and back sections had been finished. Blocks of masonry were in heaps, a great statue lay on the ground and work had stopped. You were about to begin on my works in Thebes and I was compelled to make use of the builder who started the Osiride commission. You remember the inscription I caused to be carved into the western wall?”

  “In part, it reads A good opportunity to make provision for those who have passed on; pity is helpful, caring is good; a son should devote himself to the memory of his father. My heart has driven me to make good works for Seti but that is not the true reason for the building of both temples.”

  “I quickly found fault with the builder, a man of small imagination and one who could not sustain himself without constant enquiries of me. I prefer to work with people capable of independent thought and action. Seven months after my ascension, I called you to Abydos and gave you the responsibility of completing the Cenotaph.”

  “I remember that time well. You blithely doubled my burden after deciding you should also have a Cenotaph dedicated to Osiris in your name. I was unsure of what your father had in mind when he conceived the Temple. The builder who had mismanaged the commission produced some sketches in Seti’s own hand but these were incomplete and the man lacked the courage to instruct me in what he thought Seti envisaged.”

  “With this limitation in mind, we met in the second court facing the square pillared portico with its sharp lintels drawing a firm line across the landscape. Paper and ink in hand, two young men, one fresh to the throne, the other at the beginning of his long journey in the field of pharaonic building took their next steps together. We sat in the silence of the courtyard, you thinking in possibilities and I dealing in practicalities.”

  Many elements of the temple, including its most unusual feature, the Osireion, were complete. A unique edifice, the Osireion is a colonnaded burial vault built below the level of the Cenotaph. A granite sarcophagus, set at its centre, is surrounded by a moat filled with water fed by a nearby sacred lake. There was no mistaking my belief the Cenotaph is a memorial to Osiris and Seti himself. I was to learn very quickly self-aggrandisement was not limited to the father. It was rampant in his heir.

  “You asked if I thought your father had conceived a beautiful temple. I replied positively, noting it lacked a few embellishments to make it an exquisite monument. I suggested adding another courtyard and a second pillared hall in front of the sanctuaries, the erection of a frontal pylon and the completion the relief inscriptions your father had designed. My feeling was that the sanctuaries were too well illuminated and lacked the dignity darkness brings to Osiris, Lord of the Underworld, hence my suggestion of the second pillared hall.”

  “I agreed and approved your recommendations with an instruction you build as you thought appropriate to my father’s memory.” Ramesses finished our recollection of those memorable days with a comment. “Life was so straight forward then.”

  “Yes, though you had a fury to build. After the first meeting at the Cenotaph, I returned to Thebes only to be urgently recalled to Abydos to hear your next decree. By then I was working on the temples at Karnak and Luxor, overseeing the completion of the temple at Abu Simbel, building the Ramesseum, your tomb, the tomb for Queen Nefertari, designing fortifications at Pi-Ramess, palaces in every city, the Cenotaph at Abydos and you still found room for me in your plans to build more and greater. Your thoughtfulness knew no boundaries in those early years.”

  “Do not start complaining now. You never flinched under the increase of your responsibilities. You approached each new project like a war horse pawing the ground in anticipation of the charge. I watched you well in those days and greatly admired your fortitude. All I needed to do was to suggest another monument and you reached for papyrus and ink. I remember when I met you in Abydos and said I wished to build my own Cenotaph. Within three hours, you and I worked out what you then proceeded to build. You were able to read and interpret my thoughts like no other man.”

  “Your Cenotaph was a simple building when compared to the great temples you decreed. Essentially two courtyards, three pillared halls, two pylons, the sanctuary and wide enough walls to create a further opportunity to record your crushing victory at Qadesh.”

  “I see your lack of awe for my great triumph over the barbarians is still a problem even though the dust lies thickly on the bones of the few Hittites who died at Qadesh. At least I did not return to the kingdom in sackcloth and ashes or find myself in chains at the court in Hatti. I accept I must continue to live with your impudence. Redeem yourself. Let us return to the present and discuss the future. Our wives must soon return from the market otherwise we shall both be further impoverished.”

  “As I need men to build your crypt, I had to find a method of increasing the difficulties of any who sought to breach the fortress walls. The answer lay again with sand. But first, the matter of the tunnel in your father’s tomb. I doubt the wisdom of trying to build a corridor down to the Primeval Waters as your father did, not because of any belief that you do not wish to follow his example. His architect, Meketre told me so many men died in the excavation of a corridor so deep into shale, Seti commanded the work be stopped as he did not want the spirit of dead workmen invading his tomb.” I paused. “The corridor had one unexpected purpose, one I am sure did not occur to either your father or Meketre. It will act as a drain for water.”

  Ramesses interjected “What water? There is no water in the necropolis which is as parched as a crone’s tits. It never rains anywhere near Thebes and the Nile is kilometres away and at a much lower level than the valley floor.”

  “Ramesses, I have an idea. One without any proof I can offer other than the observation of these eyes. I believe it does rain at intervals measured in centuries and the rain falls create raging cataracts that cascade off the hills above the valley. Cast your mind over the aspect of the valley and compare it with the landscape of the Delta, where it rains frequently. You see the same signs of erosion on the sandstone cliffs here as you see in the limestone walls of the necropolis. Deep gouges in the escarpment, stones piled up in places where there is no logical reason for them to be and the plateau atop the escarpment appears to have been swept clean of rocky debris. This tells me, that well before the memory of any living man, water has flooded the valley floor and will do so again at a time known only to the gods. If I am right, many of the less well sealed tombs may have been flooded and damaged by water.”

  ‘You cannot be right. That would be disastrous. Dismiss the thought.”

  “It will not hurt to dig some narrow drainage tunnels beneath your new tomb. If I am wrong, I will have wasted some effort but if I am correct then your new crypt will not retain flooding water.” I replied reasonably.

  “Assuming you may be correct, which I doubt, you would leave the existing tomb to be destroyed. You must protect it.”

  “No, that is the last thing I want to do.” He gave me a fierce look. “Sennefer, if I forget our friendship and order you do build a protective barrier around my tomb it shall be done.”

  “If you so ordered, I would obey but I have my reasons. Please let me continue.”

  “Do so. You have never failed me before and I do not believe you will in the future.”

  “I will drive a narrow tunnel straight down into the new burial chamber through the hill sitting over your existing tomb. It will be at least twenty metres long before it reaches the excavation, the roof of which will be supported by pillars of squared g
ranite and lined with basalt plates.”

  “I propose filling the entire vault with sand poured down the tunnel after your crypt is sealed. As we both know, it is almost impossible to dig through sand. To gain access to your vault, a thief would need to free the tunnel of sand before he reached the chamber only to find it also filled with thousands of tonnes of sand. If he gets that far and excavates all the sand, he would find himself faced with an immense block of basalt. Halfway down the tunnel a granite plug will be inserted before the remaining length is filled with rocks and sand to blend into the landscape. If it should ever rain heavily, water will flow down the tunnel, seep through the sand around your crypt and drain out through the channels dug under the entire structure.” I stopped as we heard the voices of our wives approaching.

  “Tomorrow I will tell you about the next level of deception, a level of deceit which will need careful thought and well considered consent.” The queen and Ipi joined us at the pool. We rose to greet them and spent the rest of the day listening to the excited stories of their expensive foray into the markets. Many were the merchants who would sing their praises and eat lavishly tonight at our expense but a happy wife is worth almost any amount of hard won gold!

  The next morning was typical of the days in the Delta. Cool, slightly humid with the sky a deeper blue than over the desert, the solar barque of Re shining with an extra degree of clarity in the dust free air. Ramesses asked I join him for breakfast as he was eager to hear the final details of the new tomb. We met on a veranda built over the river bank, a point from where he fed estuarine crocodiles with goat meat.

  “I find it wise to feed the relatives of the crocodile god Sobek.” he said as he threw another bloody chunk into waters which thrashed with snapping reptiles. “Who knows, he may be present within this gathering of his brethren below.” I thought there was nothing godly about the repulsive melee of deadly creatures but this was an observation best kept to myself.