The Golden Falcon

by David C. Clark

  “This second letter is to be handed to Bakenkhons at the temple. It permits you to open the treasury in the Ramesseum, take out the goods therein and move them to the tomb. He will provide you with more information once the treasure room is opened.” Handing me a cylinder of carved ivory, he said “You will find within, a list drawn up by my father of the goods he wished taken into the second crypt. There is an authorisation which permits you and Bakenkhons to open the tomb of Queen Nefertari, remove her coffins and place them within the hidden tomb. You are to take nothing from her tomb other than her coffins and the two chests noted on the document. A third document allows you to open a sealed room in the Ramesseum at an appropriate moment and remove its content. You must guard this cylinder with your life.”

  We met in the antechamber to the throne room, the chamber Ramesses had made the very centre of his power. A visitor would need to be blind not to recognise the throne room for what it was - a chamber of adoration of Ramesses, the god. Along one wall, seated on red granite thrones were colossal statutes of Ramesses with Amun, Re and Montu. Against a second wall, stood diorite statues of Ramesses, Ptah, Sakhmet and Nefertem and the third wall was lined with enthroned images of Ramesses, Seth, Amun and Re. The fourth wall behind the throne, carved in relief, had a depiction of the pharaoh embraced by Amun. Whilst the statues are not as large as those at the Ramesseum, they certainly were not noted for their modest scale.

  “I think your son’s first commission will be the construction of a new throne room as there is no possibility of my using me father’s seat of power. It has always overwhelmed me and speaks only of his authority.” I thought it best, for the moment, not to tell Merenptah of the many statutes his father had usurped from monuments all over the kingdom. At least, the colossi in the throne room were sculpted under specific commission.

  “My sisters told me of the golden falcon. Just as the sky cleared over Saite, I felt the brush of wings against my cheek and a sensation of warmth flooded my body. I knew then that my father had died and the burden of kingship had passed to me with his blessings, yet I doubt if I am equal to the task.”

  Now I had to deal with Merenptah the king, a man already unsure of his confidence. I remembered the younger Ramesses entering his father’s throne room in Thebes just days after his ascension. He walked to the throne and sat upon it with the ease of a man taking his seat at the dining table. He radiated self-assurance and issued decrees and commands as naturally as breathing. I thought to help Merenptah move out of his father’s shadow.

  “Merenptah, I have known you man and boy, so you may take heart from what I say. Your father always spoke of his great faith in you and your abilities. He found no fault in the joint regency of the past fifteen years. Long did he train you for this moment and you will govern wisely and with strength now his mantle has passed to you. You are now the pharaoh and one with Horus.”

  “Thank you. Your words encourage me. He spoke infrequently about my regency and rarely discussed the decisions I made. Did you know my father had an elder brother? Prince Siptah died well before my father ascended the throne. He spoke not of his brother and rarely of his sister, Tia, who died years ago. Many in our family believe Ramesses saw you as the brother he had lost in his childhood and there were times I was envious of your friendship, though I know it gave my father constant comfort to have you as his confidant.”

  “There is one feeling I never voiced whilst he was alive but I considered him as the brother I never had. He was the only person I could turn to in times of personal distress. His solicitude and strength was given without question and in full measure.”

  “You did not need to speak of it as in his heart my father felt the same of you. You must feel his passing deeply.” Before I lost my self-control on hearing this sentiment, I spoke again.

  “Be not envious of our friendship. There are many things a son does not know about his father but be assured of his love and respect. As for our friendship, you must remember I knew your father many years before your birth and the first years of his reign were the days of the full flush of his glory. The friendship did not spring fully formed. It took many years of punishing labour and a good many disagreements to mature. Both of us had to make concessions to each other before we enjoyed the blessings of a deep intimacy, but note this well, he told me of your birth with tears of joy in his eyes and his sense of pride deepened as he watched you develop from childhood to manhood.”

  “Merenptah, we must talk of a serious matter. Your father told me a week before he died it that was his belief I would outlive him to discharge my final duty. I fear it will also be the last act of my life, so I entrust to you the care of my wife and your sister, Neferure. Many years ago, your sister asked if she may be entombed with me and to this I happily agreed. I have arranged with my son that when my time comes, he is to attend to my funeral and entombment outside Thebes in a manner similar to Khaemwaset’s burial. Now, as the last drops drain from the water clock that is the measure of my life, I can only look forward to being re-united with Ramesses beyond the Western Horizon. With your approval, I must take my leave as we both have many tasks to perform. We shall see each other again in Thebes. Until then, I give you my hand in farewell and may our gods bless you as they did your father.”

  As I drew nearer to the culminating moment of my life, I found myself filled with a strength and vigour I could not comprehend. I was older than Ramesses and, until the moment of his death, I was stooped over and in almost daily pain from the ailments assailing my body. Now I walked upright with the step of a much younger man, free of the daily misery of old age. Had the enfolding wings of the falcon wrought some miracle? I mentioned this strange transformation to Neferure as we prepared for the trip south.

  She said. “I also feel I have shrugged off the lethargy of age and I experience an intense sense of peace. Bintanath asked me if I was feeling younger and stronger when she admitted to a similar sensation. My fingers are no longer stiff and twisted, we have both lost the grey from our hair and you, my dear husband, look many years younger. We believe Ramesses has invested us with new life to face our final sad duty with fortitude and tranquillity.”

  “Neferure, I have sent a messenger ahead to Memphis asking my son and grandson to meet us there in case I falter in my final task.”

  “Task, what task? We only have to attend the ceremonies at the temple and Ramesseum and then accompany my father’s encoffined body to his tomb. There is little else to be done and your duties as his overseer will be at an end.”

  “Neferure, I am committed to complete a great and sacred mission for your father in Thebes but until my work is complete, I cannot divulge the details. Do not demand any information about this responsibility as the matter is subject to an oath I swore to your father years ago. However, I must tell you it is doubtful I will ever return to Pi-Ramess or even leave Thebes. The duty I must fulfil in the Great Place may be my last act in this world. My time draws near and I wish to make the most of the next few months together with you.”

  Embracing me she replied “My darling husband, you have given me many years of great joy since we met on the terrace in Memphis and I have treasured each day. When I married you, it was my belief, as you were then of a mature age, that we would only have a few years of happiness before you passed to the Second Life. It has been my good fortune the deities granted you great longevity and my cup of fulfilment overflows. Come, let us continue packing lest I find my eyes moist with emotion.” She kissed me, rested her head against my chest and I felt the wetness of tears through my garment.

  We found Memphis a city in deep mourning. The air was filled with the perfume of incense burning before the temple shrines and the sonorous chanting of priests professing their devotion to the dead king. A messenger soon found Rekhmire and my grandson, Pashedu, who responded that they would be ready to embark early next morning. I told Neferure there was a private matter I needed to attend to before we left. I located a chariot, drove through the city an
d climbed high up into the Libyan Hills.

  Reaching Khaemwaset’s resting place on its lonely promontory, I dismounted and sat near where he lay. I spoke to him of my grief, tears falling from my eyes when I looked to the south where my destiny awaited me, unable to determine if the tears were those of happiness or misery. I peered at the western horizon in a futile attempt to see the future and spied, flying towards me, the golden falcon, its radiant wings pulsing in graceful flight. The great bird alighted at the edge of the promontory and its golden eyes looked at me keenly as if distressed by my suffering. The falcon inclined its feathered head towards me, spread its wings, rose and flew westward again.

  A sensation of calmness descended upon me. I bade Khaemwaset a final farewell and returned to the city in a state of peace. Neferure had been disquieted by my demeanour before I left but, after telling her of my pilgrimage to her brother’s tomb and the third appearance of the gilded falcon, she was re-assured in the knowledge her father was offering comfort to her suffering spouse.

  We voyaged ever southward towards Thebes. Great sadness attended the city as this had been Ramesses’ spiritual home. Clouds of incense floated over the temples, no gay pennants flew now and people went about their business in sombre mood as the city prepared itself for the final act in the life of their beloved pharaoh.

  After settling Neferure in the palace, Rekhmire and I took passage over the river and attended the office of the high priest, Bakenkhons. He was making offerings to Amun-Re deep within the shrine room when we arrived so I used the moment to revisit the works of Ramesses in the Amun Temple. My hands ran over stonework we had conceived and built together, my fingers followed carved inscriptions he had approved in his early vainglorious days and my eyes swept upwards to the decorations covering the walls.

  “Father, the temple must make you very proud. I doubt if I can create designs and decorations of such magnitude or quality. What you built here is exceptional and an inspiration to any who claim to be builders.” Rekhmire said, spreading his arms out towards the pylons, pillars and statuary.

  “My son, you do not lack for talent or skill. I was able to achieve all this only because my inspiration came from the pharaoh. It was the touch of his greatness that permitted the full flowering of the meagre talents bestowed upon me by Thoth and nothing more. We communicated in so many unspoken ways about his dreams and desires and he was always amused about my ability to translate his simple drawings into reality. Rekhmire, you will soon inherit my title. I have spoken with Merenptah of this matter and he has willingly given his approval to my request that you be elevated to Royal Overseer of Works. Serve him honourably as he may yet surprise you. He carries within his blood many of his father’s gifts but only the gods can determine his fate and his ability to build with the vision of Ramesses.”

  Bakenkhons found us in the pillared hall. Our greetings were warm though overlaid with the sadness we suffered. We retired to his office, where he closed the door and broke open the seals on the ivory cylinder and read the contents in silence. He went to a small chest, opened its lid and extracted a key, which he handed to me.

  “You will find two rooms behind the treasury door that opens with this key. The first holds goods Ramesses wished placed in the known tomb. The contents of the other room must be moved in secrecy to the hidden crypt. Just before the king’s body arrives in Thebes, we will open Nefertari’s tomb and remove her coffins with the two chests and transport them to the basalt crypt. I will assign priests to you for these tasks, men who can be trusted to keep their silence. I believe it wise to undertake the movement of the queen’s remains under the veil of darkness, lest we draw too much attention from the curious. The Guards officers will assist you with the placing of funerary goods within the tombs. The second room in the treasury holds three heavy cedar boxes. You know what I refer to. For these you will need strong arms to lower them into the tomb and place them in their rightful place. When King Merenptah arrives, we can discuss the third matter. Now I must return to the shrine as I am sure you have much to do. Go with the blessings of Amun.”

  We had four weeks before the arrival of the funeral barque. The king’s tombs had to be opened, cleaned and the temporary wall I caused to be built in the well shaft decades ago, dismantled to permit the placement of funerary possessions within the second tomb. I had given much thought to the matter of secrecy as certain steps required employing heavy labour and the last act would be conducted openly in full daylight. Speed, and another ruse, would deepen the veil of deceit and, if the Guard officers and priests were equal to the task, then I would not need any assistance from those in whom I did not have complete trust.

  Rekhmire, his son, Pashedu, and I went to the valley with the Sem priest to open the tomb and inspect it as I had not seen the interior for many years. The priest cut the cords bearing the high priest’s seals and Rekhmire swung the doors open. We lit torches and entered the dark corridors. I paused at the planks over the well shaft and peered down, noticed nothing remiss and proceeded downwards through the pillared hall and antechambers to the burial crypt and storerooms. The interiors were undamaged and remarkably free of dust and sand. One of the doors sagged on its hinges but this was a minor matter and easily repaired.

  The Sem priest and Pashedu, who had never been inside a royal tomb before, were amazed by the beauty and complexity of the wall decorations. Drawing heavily on the Books of the Dead, Ramesses, Nebwenenef and I had chosen the most beautiful representations of the stages of the pharaoh’s journey to the Second Life and the king had taken great delight in following the creation of these decorations whenever he inspected the tomb. Now I can look back with some humour, but during that time he kept scribes, artists and painters in a state of constant terror lest they make some mistake whilst they worked on the carved inscriptions and painted images. The king would arrive, armed with his own copies of The Guides of the Netherworld, gather the decorators together and go over every section of new work. Rarely did he find a mistake but all involved in the commission were relieved to see him climb back into his chariot and depart the valley. Fortuitously, the inscriptions in the basalt vault were much less onerous in their detail and what few deemed necessary, Nebamun personally carved.

  Dismissing the priest at the well shaft on our ascent, we pulled up the covering planks and I climbed down a ladder left in place and peered closely at the walls. Satisfied, we left the tomb, I directed the priest to close the gates, telling him we wished to linger awhile. As he departed, I made great show of pointing out various tombs to Rekhmire and Pashedu which gave us an excuse to clamber up the hillside over Ramesses’s tomb. Taking measuring instruments from my robe, I sighted three objects in the valley and casually walked to a particular point on the hill’s crest.

  “Just under my feet lies the mouth of the tunnel leading to the second tomb.” Years of sand and small rock falls had obscured the tunnel opening which was closed by a timber trapdoor. Pointing to a deep, split cleft in the escarpment, I instructed “You take a sighting from the cleft in the west and a second over there to the south,” indicating the entrance to the mausoleum contained the king’s children, “and a third bearing from the doors of Seti’s tomb which can just be seen from where we stand.” Turning to my son, I said quietly,

  “Should I fail before the burial, you know what to do? Are any matters unclear in your mind?”

  “Father, you will not fail. From what you have told me of the falcon, Ramesses’s spirit watches over you very closely.” We returned to Thebes late in the afternoon, too late to open the treasure rooms but early enough to assemble my family for dinner. My grandson was eager to learn more about Ramesses, whom he never met and Neferure and I spent the evening regaling our family with stories about the pharaoh and his life.

  I had asked Rekhmire to bring his son to my quarters early the next morning.

  “Pashedu, like your father, you are an architect in the service of the king. My position as royal architect will soon pass to your fat
her and if you prove worthy, you may yourself inherit the title. It is a position of great responsibility and even greater trust. If you capture a king’s trust you may work directly for him as I did with Ramesses but be warned. The king’s overseer hears many confidences, knows many secrets and the role requires your ability to manage what you see and hear in equal measure to your skills as a builder. Yes, there is wealth, power and even fame but these are secondary matters and must never be allowed to cloud your judgement. Today, I chose to invite you into the world of royal secrets, a world I and your father have lived in for many years.”

  I paused to gauge his reaction. “You will see unfolded in the next few weeks a sight none have seen before and part of what you learn may benefit you, or more correctly, the ruler you have the honour to serve. If the deities favour you and Merenptah’s successors, you may come to savour the intimacy I shared with Ramesses and the fruits of such intimacy are worth more than all the wealth and power I now hold. Are you ready to accept the heavy burden of responsibility that comes with being a king’s close confidant? Note, however, that responsibility may come with great danger and grave risk.”

  Pashedu looked first at his father and then at me. “Grandfather, wherever I travel you are spoken of as a great man and my colleagues believe you were anointed by Thoth himself. It is for you to choose. Though I am ready to accept the burdens you entail, your heart must guide you in your decision.”

  I stood, as did his father and I extended my hand. “Your father has taught you well. You can join us in our venture but pledge your silence to us both now.” We all shook hands and I felt the pride of knowing another generation of my family would strive to engender the trust of a pharaoh. If Thoth saw merit in my grandson, he would bring him close to the bosom of another king.