As the palace was part of the great mortuary compound, we did not need to venture far to reach the treasure rooms. I showed the guards my letter of authority and they stood aside whilst I disengaged the copper mechanism that locked the heavy timber doors. We entered, then Pashedu closed the doors behind us. I parted a curtain shielding the contents from the eyes of the curious. The room blazed with gold, the brilliance of gems and coloured faience work. I had not been inside the treasury chamber for three decades and I knew Ramesses had periodically augmented the contents so even I was dazzled at the richness spread out before us. For Rekhmire and Pashedu, this massing of riches was beyond their comprehension and far surpassed the wealth on display in royal palaces.
Dominating the whole collection were three coffins resting on sturdy timber frames. The smallest was of solid gold worked to resemble the enswathed body of the king and deeply engraved in semblance of a falcon’s plumage. Beside it, a mask of beaten gold with the facial details perfectly formed. A nemes cloth inlaid with carnelian, quartz, coloured glass and lapis-lazuli surmounted with the vulture and cobra heads framed the youthful face forever frozen in gleaming metal. The outer coffins were fashioned in thickly gilded wood with rich and carefully wrought decorations. All portrayed the king in mummiform outline, his arms crossed, holding the royal insignia and the false beard affixed to his chin.
Banked against a wall stood the panels of the gilded shrines that would be mounted over the granite sarcophagus and the smaller shrine housing for the viscera chest containing the king’s entrails. Arrayed around the room was a fabulous suite of furniture including a throne of rare wood covered with thinly beaten sheet gold and inlaid with precious stones, glass and faience. Chests of various sizes were neatly stacked, no doubt filled with jewellery, clothing, royal insignia, foodstuffs and ornaments. I countered thirty six painted and gilded statues of the king, deities and animals - lions, antelopes, hippopotami, bulls, cows, crocodiles and birds. Two heavy double beds mounted on carved alabaster leopards, model barques, chariots, tables, stools, chairs, bows, spears, couches and statuettes constituted only part of the impressive display of imperial wealth.
The contents of the second room were more austere. The room was packed with plain wooden crates and chests secured with ropes and the seals of Bakenkhons. Written on each chest were simple descriptions of the contents - shawabty, weapons, wine, vases, chariot parts, various types of foodstuffs and even toys. Rekhmire and Pashedu looked around and appeared unimpressed by the drab collection of unadorned crates and apparently pedestrian items. “A moment! In life, not all you see is what it appears to be.” I produced a knife and cut the ropes binding one of the larger crates marked chariot parts.
“You are stronger than us, Pashedu. You might lift the lid of the box so we may see the chariot parts therein as an immortal king has many idle whims to satisfy.” He went to the box and, with some effort, threw open the chest and fell back in amazement. Nestled within the straw was another golden coffin. Innocently,I said there must be some mistake. “Please open this chest” indicating one labelled cooking pans. I gave the knife to Pashedu who opened the small chest which was replete with beautifully crafted jewelled pectorals and necklaces. I looked at them both and laughed.
“My children, the content of these crates form part of a great deception. They are what will go into the second tomb. I think it is time I explained to you both the full nature of this trickery. Pashedu, I caution you as what you now hear and see is a secret you must take to your grave. No other, not your wife or children, must know of this aspect of Ramesses’s burial and you will deny all knowledge of this affair no matter who questions you, including a pharaoh or the high priests who succeed Merenptah and Bakenkhons. Your father knows some of the story I am about to unfold and only Merenptah and Bakenkhons are left who know the details of the charade. Sit a while and let me tell you of the deception the king and I planned so many years ago.” We sat for several hours amidst pharaoh’s wealth. When I finished my story, Padeshu’s eyes glistened with emotion.
“The king planned so many years ago to move the body of his first wife to the second crypt. That is surely a sign of very deep affection. I had not considered such a matter the natural act of a king.”
“Grandson, kings are still humans and experience the same range of feelings as you and I. You must never forget, your ability to work with the emotional responses of a ruler will determine the degree of your success as overseer. Now you are party to a secret greater than any in the history of our kingdom. What you and your father do to assist me in the next weeks will permit you the honour of participating in the closing episode in the life of a god on earth. There was no greater privilege than for me to have served this man as his architect, builder, friend, advisor and finally protector of his mortal remains. We have much to do, let us be about our work and remember the falcon watches us.”
Our immediate task was to dismantle the temporary wall in the well shaft separating the first and hidden tomb thus permitting the delivery of the contents of the second treasure room into the rear chambers in the basalt tomb. When that was finished, we laid a solid walkway of planks over the well shaft, thus hiding the now open wall from view. Then, the contents of the first treasure room were transferred to the first tomb, leaving only the coffins and viscera chest behind. After the arrival of the fleet carrying the first contingent of royal family members and the lesser nobility from Pi-Ramess, more artefacts were disgorged and added to the wealth destined for the king’s tomb. Day after day, sleds burdened with funerary goods left the Ramesseum under heavy guard and travelled up the roadway into the Theban Hills and down into the Great Place. Following the king’s instructions, priests arranged the possessions in the storerooms and shrine chambers where they were blessed as sacred goods necessary to sustain the king in his next life.
Came the day when the flotilla arrived bearing the body of Ramesses. I stood with the other nobles waiting silently on the eastern quay. Too many times in my life had I stood on the same quay watching the arrival of a barque carrying the body of a member of the royal household. His beloved Queen Nefertari, several royal wives and too many sons and daughters had all made the mournful voyage to Thebes, the way station to the sacred valleys. The doleful beating of drums roused me from my memories as the first barque appeared on the horizon. In the van, a warship carried the new king, Merenptah, closely followed by Ramesses’s great ship, familiar with its blood red sails and gilded woodwork. In its wake followed more vessels carrying princes and princesses, foreign ambassadors, merchants, noblemen and their wives from the cities to the north.
The new king alighted and we bowed low, then stood back as the funeral barque made its mooring. Raised up on a gilded plinth lay a plain black rectangular coffin with the gold filled cartouche of Ramesses engraved on each side. Pallbearers from the temple boarded the vessel, lifted the chest high onto their shoulders, made their way down the gangway and placed the coffin under a pavilion,waiting until the other vessels discharged the mourners. At a sign from the king, the priests lifted their burden again and moved, in solemn procession, towards the temple followed by the dignitaries and a sorrowing multitude of Thebans.
As the cortege made its way through the silent throng lining the avenue to the temple, I experienced a feeling of unreality. Futile thoughts assailed me; that is not my friend inside the coffin, he has not left me and I followed the body of a stranger. I stumbled, Rekhmire and Neferure moved to steady me. Blindly, I let myself be led into the temple courtyard as the coffin was carried into the shrine hall away from our sight. His body would lay in communion with the deities for five days before being moved to the mortuary temple across the river, another step closer to eternity.
I busied myself with practical matters. Several thousand tonnes of sand had to be delivered to a site near the mouth of the Great Place, a task I assigned to Rekhmire as there was a matter of delicacy and timing to organise with Bakenkhons. Pharaoh Seti had died seventy years ago and,
though the temple archives provided some guidance, no priest alive knew the exact ritual to follow upon the death of a king and this uncertainty worked in our favour. Bakenkhons would arrange the ceremony to suit our secret purpose, without causing offence or disquiet.
“Sennefer, it is possible you are the only man alive who knew King Seti, though you would not have attended the most intimate part of his funeral service. I have studied the scrolls to determine the rituals attending the funeral of a king and they indicate his body should be sealed into his coffins here in Karnak before the ceremony at the mortuary temple. It will be of assistance to us if only the inner coffin is closed but not sealed before the service. I break with another tradition instructing that once the service is concluded at the mortuary temple, the cortege moves directly to the Great Place. As Ramesses was divine, I believe it is fitting he should lie in state for one evening in the company of the gods who reside within his great monument before moving westward in the rays of the morning light. None will question my judgement in these matters. You have chosen the men to assist you in the final hours?”
“Yes. The king, Princes Amenhotep and Hori, Rekhmire, my grandson and I begin our task a few hours after the ascent of the moon. Your priests must absent themselves from the place of state and the valley.”
“I have already issued the instruction. It is known we will stand vigil besides the king’s coffin during the last night. The doors to the room where the catafalque stands will be closed at sunset. None will enter until I command the opening of the doors in the morning. The temple guards have been replaced by officers of the Royal Guard chosen by Merenptah for their loyalty to his father.”
“Then, I believe we are ready though I admit to still being uncomfortable with this deception, Bakenkhons.”
“Lord Sennefer, we seek to deceive the wicked and no harm will be done tomorrow night. If I thought there was an act of sacrilege involved I would have advised you of this well before now. Ramesses sanctioned our actions and I assure you there is no act of disrespect to him or to the deities and every religious ritual necessary to assist the king on his voyage will be observed. Clear your mind of any discomfort or guilt as this last task is the greatest honour any man could undertake for his master.”
“Let me tell you a story. I knew Ramesses principally as a man of religion. You built for him and I ministered to his soul or rather I thought it my responsibility when I became high priest. When Nebwenenef held this position, I was briefly attached to the temple here. One of my duties was to assist him during the principal festivals and serve Ramesses when he made observances at the shrines. Apparently, Seti was almost perfunctory in his observance. He would go to the shrine room, stay a short while and then leave. However, his son was scrupulous in the observation of his devotions. Ramesses would purify himself in the sacred pool, change into clean garments and sit quietly in reflection for many moments before he entered the shrine room. Nebwenenef was early of the opinion that Ramesses was a god and, when he first voiced this opinion, I must have appeared incredulous so he instructed I be present the next time the king came to the temple when he would show me something to evidence his belief.”
“Few are permitted into a shrine room once it has been consecrated. Entry is restricted to the king, high priest and the sem priest who cleanses the shrine. Not even the heir can humble himself before Amun, Re or Khonsu. Construction had begun on the Ramesseum, his tomb and the temples. You remember him then? Vital, alive, running from this building site to the next, full of ideas. He almost drove our archivist to madness with his demands for scrolls and texts. Nebwenenef and I were eating lunch one afternoon when he burst into our room and said he needed to make an offering to Amun then and now. Hurriedly, we changed into our ceremonial robes as the king bathed and donned a pure white kilt, nothing else, just a kilt, no head cloth and no sandals.”
“The shrine rooms are almost at the end of the temple. You have seen where they lie. The rooms before it get progressively smaller and darker until oil lamps are needed to illuminate the passage to the principal shrine. Just outside the sanctum there are two stone benches,one for the king, the other for the high priest. They are called the Seats of Tranquillity, for there a king and priest must dismiss all thoughts of the ephemeral world and its concerns before approaching the god. I was then only an sem priest and as no seat was provided for one of that rank, I was obliged to stand whilst the king made his devotionals. Ramesses sat, composed himself and entered the shrine room alone. We heard the king offering up devotional prayers. A few oil lamps flickered but the area was in almost total darkness when Nebwenenef called my attention to the shrine room from where a yellowish glow emanated. Watching the portal intently, we observed the glow turned golden until brilliant light flooded the chamber and two voices could be heard. The king’s and a voice I did not recognise speaking in a language I could not comprehend. The high priest indicated I should very carefully look into the shrine room. Stealing up to the doorway, I looked in and saw the king with both hands clasped on the statue of Amun. The statue is human in form and size but has the head of a ram with the solar disc fixed between its twin horns. The hair stood up on my neck. The solar disc was blazing with light mirrored by a golden luminescence coming from the king’s body. One glimpse was enough and I stepped back very quickly. After some time, the king left the room and the temple without saying a word to us. My friend, I have witnessed this phenomenon on four occasions and I have no doubt tomorrow we bid farewell to the earthly manifestation a living god.”
“I never saw the radiance though many were the times he created an aura I could not apprehend. When it occurred, I thought it was just the supreme confidence of a strong king but, from what you now disclose, there can never be an issue of his divinity in my mind.” I told him of the golden falcon. “You are singularly blessed, Sennefer. Ramesses loved you before all men and the appearance of the falcon is evidence his love extends beyond the grave.”
“I feel his loss almost beyond words, Bakenkhons, and a part of me has also died. However, I must now take my leave. There is much to attend to before we meet again tomorrow at the mortuary temple.”
The penultimate day dawned. By mid-morning, Thebes was almost deserted as all who could cross the river had made an early passage. As the solar barque reached its zenith, the coffin was placed on an ebony sled and hauled by priests to the quay, lifted onto the funeral barque and slowly rowed across the river to where the royal family and nobility waited. One hundred priests lifted ropes of woven golden thread to their shoulders and drew the sled to the mortuary temple. The two colossi loomed over the procession, their granite eyes coldly surveying the swaying ranks of priests as they passed through the great pylon,crossed the first courtyard, moved up the staircase into the second courtyard and then entered the darkened forest of pillars in the great hall until finally placing the catafalque and its coffin before the sanctuary of the deities.
Neferure and I were only permitted to wait in the Hall of the Litanies whilst the king was glorified and venerated. Burning incense perfumed the air, sistrums tinkled and the music of harps reached our ears from within the sanctuary. We heard priests chanting and, periodically, the high priest making offertories. Then the coffin on its carriage was lifted high, carried back through the temple and placed on the terrace fronting the first pylon so the people could farewell their late monarch. All wept and fell to their knees. Merenptah, resplendent in pharaonic apparel and carrying the insignia of office, came to the side of the coffin, dropped to his knees and offered a silent prayer. He rose and turned towards those gathered in homage, raising the crook and flail above his head in a gesture to re-assure the people the mantle of authority had passed to a new king.
His public devotions finished, Merenptah re-entered the temple behind priests bearing their precious burden. Shouts of alarm rose from the crowded outer courtyard. The sun was now low in the western sky and long shadows from the Theban Hills crept across the plains towards the Ramesseum. Cri
es broke from the crowd. “Look, look at the sun.” and “Look to the west.”
The golden orb appeared swollen and encircled by a brilliant white corona. Long fiery flares arced out from its circumference. “The solar barque is burning.” said a man next to me. The sound of the commotion reached the inner temple and the king re-appeared with the high priest. A press of royalty and nobility surged onto the terrace from between the pylon. Panic festered, many had fallen prostrate to the ground and others looked ready to flee. Merenptah, in a voice straight from the parade ground, spoke with reassuring authority.
“My people, calm yourselves and rejoice. There is no need of fear. My father, Divine Ramesses, sends us a sign he is now as one with Amun-Re. Exult at his homecoming and fill your hearts with prayers to the gods. Feel the warmth of their splendour as the king takes his rightful place on the oar benches of the solar barque.”
Seizing the moment, he turned towards the flaming orb, raised the flail and crook up to the rays of the sun and stood bathed in the brilliance of the great white light, his jewelled collar and pectoral gleaming. I thought his gift of oratory lacked somewhat but he had learnt from his father how to create a dramatic presence when an opportunity suddenly arose. His subjects, calmed by his proclamation, moved as one to face the western horizon, heads raised up in adoration, arms outstretched in imitation of the king’s gesture. Slowly the corona melted away, the flares flickered and died and the orb resumed its usual appearance.
Merenptah lowered his arms and then crossed them in regal pose upon his chest. He turned and walked, with slow dignity, back inside the temple. The mourners, realising the crisis had ended, begun to disperse. It would be many hours before they had all crossed the river and retired for the night. “We should also go back to the palace.” I said to Neferure. “I am bereft of feeling, sick at heart and in need of some sleep before this night’s long work. Please take me home.”
The Golden Falcon Page 55