by Overton, Max
Smenkhkare motioned to Scarab to stay where she was and approached Akhenaten. He whispered to the king, receiving a nod of agreement. Returning to his sister's side he said "Come," and led her past the niches into the third descending corridor. "Akhenaten said I could take you through to see the rest of the tomb."
Scarab glanced back over her shoulder at the gathering in the first chamber. "They won't leave us here, will they?"
"Don't be silly. Now, pay attention." He pointed at two life-size statues standing on either side of the room. "Those are the 'Two Doorkeepers'. They symbolize the soul's entry to divine life and its return to earth. See the walls?" Smenkhkare pointed out the lavish paintings of every sort of manufacturing process: metal working, bead making, carpentry, weaving, and glass blowing. He tapped the painting of the glass blower. "Who does that remind you of?"
"Ahhotep," Scarab cried.
"Shh ! Loud voices disturb the harmony of the spirits. In these deep niches here are funerary goods, everything the king could possibly need. A portion of his treasury lies in the room off the first chamber, as much gold as he will need in eternity. More lies in the treasury rooms next to the burial chamber, his House of Gold. We can't see in there as the doors will already be bricked up and sealed. Costly woods, ivory, jewels, silver and bronze, even an iron dagger worth more than gold is in there--Ay told me. In another one there are urns filled with salted meats, jars of wine and beer, baskets of fine bread, fruit and vegetables. The king must have everything in abundance."
Scarab looked dubious. "A room full of food is a lot, I suppose, but it still wouldn't last long. I mean, if it is to feed the king for eternity ..."
Smenkhkare chuckled. "The spirits do not eat solid food. Remember how the young priest Pa-Siamen told us about the feeding of the god Amun each day? A feast is set out for him to eat, but after he has had his fill, the food appears untouched. It is because the god feeds on the spirit of the food, not its body. In the same way our father Amenhotep will feast on the spirit of this food for eternity. That is why they have made sure there is everything he liked here. All those sweet things he liked, but no toothache to deny him pleasure." They reached the end of the descending corridor and walked down several steps into another smaller chamber.
"Since we left the first chamber, we've been going north," Smenkhkare commented.
"Why? I thought tombs were supposed to be straight."
"Normally, yes, but the builders hit shattered rock so they bent the tomb to follow the fine-grained limestone."
Smenkhkare pointed at the opposite sides of the chamber. "Look at the walls Scarab, and learn. Everything in our beloved Kemet is paired, especially in this chamber of the Two Doorkeepers. Kemet is made up of Two Lands, Ta Mehu and Ta Shemau, better known as Kemet, the Black Land and Deshret, the Red Land--Delta and Valley, Papyrus and Lotus, Bee and Sedge plant, Cobra and Vulture, Gold and Silver, Sun and Moon--the list is endless. Remember this, little sister. Our lives are in two parts."
The young prince led his sister through into the next chamber, the burial chamber. A broad room needing the support of six stone pillars, its long axis was oriented to the east again. Lamps containing the purest, nearly smokeless oil, burned throughout the chamber, lighting for the last time the wonderful paintings adorning the walls. A star-studded sky covered the chamber, with the goddess Nut--the Neter of cosmic birth--overhead, her arms and feet touching the floor at opposite ends. Scenes on the walls showed the dead king overcoming all carnal aspects of life in his quest of the spiritual realm. Around the walls, Amenhotep pursued lions from his royal chariot, harpooned hippopotamus from a boat, dealt the deathblow to ranks of stylized enemies kneeling before him.
Smenkhkare leaned against a wall just inside the entrance. Motioning his sister to join him, they watched the bustle of activity in the chamber of the 'House of Gold'. The room was crowded, with slaves wrestling the nested golden coffins into a beautifully polished rose quartz sarcophagus. The sarcophagus itself lay in a trench carved into the floor of the chamber, and at its foot lay another excavation in which the priests of Amun carefully positioned the carved alabaster jars containing the dead king's dried organs. The lid of the great box hung suspended on ropes above it, the timbers of the scaffolding groaning under the great weight. The priests of Amun moved slowly around the chamber as the labors of the slaves permitted, making sure that every inscription on the walls, every carving in the lustrous gold of the shrine walls was exactly right. Amenemhet, as First Prophet, chanted prayers of protection over the great golden caskets in their pink stone sarcophagus. Aanen and Bakt uttered the responses, scattering pure water and powdered incense at intervals.
Smenkhkare pointed toward several small doorways that led off the burial chamber. "The treasure storehouses," he whispered. "He's even got his favorite chariot in one of them, and furniture in another." Squeezing Scarab's hand he jerked his head back toward the entrance. "Come on. It must be nearly time for the funeral feast." They moved back toward the entrance chamber with Amenemhet and Aanen accompanying them. Bakt stayed to oversee the slaves as they finished up preparations in the House of Gold.
Akhenaten glared at the priests of Amun as they reentered the First Chamber but remained silent, allowing them to continue the rites unhindered. The other members of the funeral party stayed quiet too, watching and waiting, though Iset was occupied keeping the young Tutankhaten quiet. Amenemhet started the ceremony of 'Opening the Mouth'. The High Priest stood in front of the Ka statue, ignoring the mummified body of the king, and washed the statue with purified water. Lustrations of oil followed, while Aanen chanted the sacred phrases in a low voice. The ceremony dragged on and the watchers, despite the importance of the ritual, felt their senses reel in the incense-laden air.
Amenemhet stood aside and handed a forked instrument of rose quartz to Akhenaten. He took the instrument, the Pesheskef, and held it to the lips of the Ka statue, uttering the ancient prayers in a low voice, then handed it to Aanen. The Hem-Netjer then handed the king an adze made of sky iron--'that which falls from heaven', the Seb Ur scepter, which was tapped against the lips of the statue, again with the utterance of complex phrases. Lastly the Ur Hekau scepter was passed and held to the statue's cold lips, Akhenaten leaning close and whispering the prayers before the ceremony was complete. The watchers relaxed and the tension eased.
Scarab tugged on her brother's arm. "Why are the statue's lips opened and not the king's," she asked, looking at the mummy propped in the opposite wall.
"Because the Ka will return from the underworld and inhabit the Ka statue," Smenkhkare whispered. "Only the Ba lives in the body itself, but the Ka must be able to eat and drink. The Opening of the Mouth enables it to do so."
The funeral feast started. Now that the dead king's mouth had been opened, he could join his family in the last meal they would enjoy together. For several minutes the sounds of eating and drinking dominated the room, though conversation was kept to a minimum. At a signal from Ay, the remains of the meal were gathered into flax baskets and stacked against the wall. The linen tablecloth was folded and the table taken apart and leaned against the wall.
Bakt came through with the slaves and supervised them as they lifted the mummy and carefully carried it through the descending corridor to the House of Gold. The family followed, spreading out into the burial chamber. The priests of Amun advanced toward the great rose quartz sarcophagus in its carved pit in the floor, with Akhenaten, Ay and Tiye following close behind. At a nod from her brother, Scarab and Smenkhkare eased around the other family members and watched the proceedings from behind one of the pillars.
Laying the mummy in the chamber in front of the sarcophagus, the slaves drew back to allow Queen Tiye a last farewell of her husband of nearly forty years. She knelt by the perfumed and spiced mummy and murmured fond endearments, remembering some of their happy times together. Lifting the golden face plate with a little difficulty as the resins clung to it; she gently kissed the bandages above the dead li
ps of her husband. She replaced the golden mask and rocked back on her heels, holding out her arms in supplication. Her voice shook and tears streamed down her ash-covered face.
"Wait for me, beloved Amenhotep, in Sekhet Hetepet, the Field of Peace; and Sekhet Iaru, the Field of Reeds; the land where all good things are enjoyed by those the gods love, for all eternity."
The slaves lowered the mummy into the nested gold coffins, replacing and securing each lid in turn. Grasping the ropes firmly, they slowly lowered the great rose quartz lid onto the sarcophagus. It chunked into place and with a chorus of grunts and groans, the ropes were eased out and the lid ground into position. The ropes were coiled and stacked to one side and the slaves slowly started disassembling the wooden framework of the scaffolding, stacking the timber neatly to one side. A golden shrine which had lain against one wall was erected around the sarcophagus. One by one the doors of the shrines were lifted into place, the bronze pins were hammered into position and the full glory of the carvings on the surface of the gold doors became apparent. Great winged goddesses knelt at the corners, holding hands, their wings outspread and covering the king's body. Scenes from his life lay between the outstretched wings, of Tiye kneeling at Amenhotep's feet, of his sons and daughters, of his hunting and fowling exploits. Inscriptions and prayers covered the rest, imploring the gods to receive king Amenhotep into the afterlife.
The priests of Amun tied the doors closed with the sacred linen cords, washed them with holy water and fastened them with the sacred knots. The slaves filed out past the royal watchers and disappeared toward the entrance, accompanied by the Third Prophet Bakt. Amenemhet and Aanen tidied the crowded chamber, placing other sacred objects around the gilded tomb of their king, items he would need symbolically for his journeys in the afterlife, or ones that held special meaning for him.
Here were placed small cedar wood chests, bound with gold and copper, inlaid with lapis and malachite, containing the mummified bodies of two dogs and a cat, favorite pets of the late king. Bouquets of flowers lay on the floor, love offerings from a widowed queen, an old favorite pair of sandals, a fly whisk trimmed with ostrich feathers, the handle of ivory bound with gold wire, and a ceremonial bow and arrows. Magic bricks were placed at the four corners, each specially fashioned with inscriptions designed to guide the king's soul and afford it protection.
Bakt returned with masons, each of the slaves carrying a wicker basket heaped with bricks. Ay, Tiye and Akhenaten left the tomb as the masons set about bricking up the doorway to the burial chamber. Smenkhkare pulled Scarab to one side and held a finger to his lips. The children watched in silence as the masons worked, mixing the mortar, fitting the bricks in place as the wall slowly rose. Just before the last few blocks were set in place, Scarab could see the top of the golden shrine gleaming in the light of the torches left burning in the House of Gold. The light flickered and died as the last brick scraped into place. A layer of mortar was spread over the wall and the seals of Amun and the mortuary temples were carefully set in place, officially sealing the tomb.
Everyone moved back to the next chamber and the process started again, the slaves moving back and forth, fetching more bricks and mortar. One by one the rooms were sealed off, the official imprints bearing testimony that all was carried out in accordance with tradition and decency. The beams across the well were removed and dropped into the pit, the well now becoming a dangerous obstacle for anyone daring to desecrate the tomb. Finally the last wall was finished, the last seal set in place and the priests ascended the stone steps to the cool desert air. Scarab looked up at the star-studded heavens in some surprise. Already the first faint glow of dawn stained the sky over the rocky wall of the Western Valley and Akhenaten and Nefertiti stood facing the place where their god Aten would rise, arms uplifted in greeting. The priests spared them a quick, contemptuous glance and directed the filling in of the stepped entranceway with rubble.
As soon as the entrance to the tomb had been filled and the traces of the night's activities swept away, the priests and masons departed with the slaves and the soldiers formed up around the royal party, preparing to escort them back to the barge and the palace. A small detachment of soldiers moved off into the cover of a timber shelter where they would guard the tomb. Akhenaten murmured something to Nefertiti, then called Paatenemheb and Ay over to him.
"Send the others back to the barge, Paatenemheb. You and I need to have a talk."
Paramessu gave the orders and the troop of soldiers marched away in the first rays of the new day, matching their speed to the slow pace of the old Queen. Akhenaten watched them go then turned angrily on Ay.
"I gave orders that all priests of all gods were banned, especially those of the false god Amun, over two months ago. Why was I disobeyed?"
Ay bowed low, extending his arms at knee level in submission. "My lord Akhenaten, the orders were given, but in light of your commands after...after the bloodshed at Akhet-Aten, I did not dare enforce it."
"I am not pleased, Ay. You are my Deputy Tjaty and a high priest of Aten. Can you not see that this situation is displeasing to me?"
"Yes, my lord. But what would you have me do? I tell the priests their temples are closed but I have not the means to carry your edict out. I tell the people the old gods are finished and that the Aten now rules over all." Ay shrugged. "They listen politely then go back to the temples which are still open."
"Give me free rein and I will enforce your edict, my king," Paatenemheb growled. "A few broken heads will convince them."
"I will not have the blood of my people spilled. You were overly zealous in Akhet-Aten. I will not have that happen here in Waset."
"Then with respect, my lord, how do you expect me to enforce your commands? If I cannot use force, the priests will just ignore me and the populace will hold me and my soldiers in contempt."
"It is true, my lord," Ay added. "People respect strength."
Akhenaten turned away, facing the east and the rising sun. "You will close the temples, Paatenemheb. You will restrain the priests, arresting them if necessary, and you will issue my edicts to the people on every street corner. My priests of Aten will explain to the people why I do this. There will be no blood shed in the streets of Waset."
"And if there is? I can command my soldiers and they will obey, but what if they are attacked? Will you allow them to defend themselves?"
"I repeat; no blood is to be shed. The Aten is a god of harmony and peace. Now go and do as your king commands."
"At least let me wait until tonight, my lord. Under cover of darkness ..."
"No. The Aten is a god of the day. All things I do in the Aten's name will be done in the light of day and in the sight of men. Carry out my orders, General. Cleanse Waset of the false god Amun."
Paatenemheb bowed and strode off at a military pace, Akhenaten and Ay following more slowly. Ahead of them, across the wide expanse of the Great River, lay ancient Waset, City of Amun, a black and brooding silhouette against the brilliant light of the rising Aten.
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Chapter Seventeen
Paatenemheb arrived back in the city while it was still early morning. He found Paramessu waiting for him on the royal wharf when the barge docked. Akhenaten also disembarked and gathered his family about him, hurrying up to the palace without a backward glance at his general or his father-in-law. Paramessu looked at Paatenemheb's stony expression with a certain amount of curiosity.
"What happened? What did he want to see you about?"
"He wants me to cleanse the city of false worship. We are to remove the priests, close the temples and prohibit the worship of any gods but the Aten--and all without violence."
"By Set's hairy balls!"
"I do hope you are not referring to our king," Ay put in mildly.
"We need a plan of action and we need it fast, Paramessu. We don't have our own legions so we are taking over the city troops. You are promoted to command of the Blue company of the A
mun legion--their General Psenamy won't have the stomach for this. Djedhor and Khui will take over the command of the Red and Black companies too; we are going to need a lot of strength for this, and I want officers I can trust in charge. Meet me at the barracks in an hour."
"What do you want me to do?" Ay asked.
Paatenemheb scratched his armpit and stared at the old man. "You want to be part of this? Why?"
Ay shrugged. "Akhenaten is our anointed king for all his fanatical stupidity. If I can help avert civil war, I will consider my duty done."
Paatenemheb nodded. "Very well. Find the priests Amenemhet and Aanen. Bring them to the barracks if you have to bind them and drag them behind a chariot. One hour." He strode off leaving Paramessu and Ay to do his bidding.
It took longer than an hour to find and persuade the priests of Amun to accompany him to the central barracks. Ay and the priests walked in through the main gate to a desultory challenge from the guard on duty. He passed them in with a nod of his head and a wave in the general direction of the large stone building of the officer's quarters. They crossed the courtyard, viewing the activities of the soldiers with interest. The open area was huge, and acted as a parade ground and exercise and training yard as well. Pairs of soldiers fought with wooden swords or spears under the close supervision of an officer; archers filled straw effigies with arrows and other soldiers wrestled in the dust. Paramessu was waiting at the main portico of the officer's area and conducted them up the broad steps to an upper room. Guards at the doorway saluted Paramessu and opened the cedar doors, letting them into the cool room beyond.
Paatenemheb stood at a broad table covered with rolled sheets of papyrus. He and two other gray-headed men were bent over a large detailed map of Waset and the surrounding countryside, pointing and murmuring. He looked up as the doors opened and rolled the map up quickly, coming around the table toward the priests.