The Double Crown: Secret Writings of the Female Pharaoh

by Marié Heese

  Ah well, perhaps it will divert me to continue my journal.

  By the fifteenth year of my reign, the Great Commander Thutmose was giving me considerable trouble. I did not like the airs that he had been putting on since his military triumph earlier that year. No longer did he live quietly and mind his tongue; my spies in Memphis reported that he was being openly critical of certain decisions I had made. I thought that it was time to blunt the claws of the wolf cub again, as I had had to do before.

  Now the words of my royal father so long ago on that first journey together came into my mind: “The love of the people is a precious thing, a resource in adversity.” At last I understood his meaning. For I knew I had a formidable ally that I could call upon to support me: none less than the people of Egypt. Oh yes, the people of Khemet loved and revered me. They had known peace and plenty, indeed they had flourished under my rule. They did not desire a warmonger upon the Double Throne. I would call upon them to help me make it quite clear who the Pharaoh was and while I breathed would always be. Public acclamation of an overwhelming nature – that was what I needed and was determined to achieve.

  So I decided that it was time for me to hold my Sed festival. My jubilee, my Myriad of Years. This is a tradition stretching back in time over more than a thousand years. It has been usual for the Pharaoh to celebrate the Heb-Sed after thirty years of rule, but my late father the Pharaoh, may he live, held his Sed festival after fifteen years had passed, not long before his death. If he could decide that this was right, then so could I.

  I knew that this plan of mine entailed serious risks, for the Sed festival is a stringent test of the Pharaoh’s spiritual and physical powers and the consequences of failure would be severe. I could not afford to stumble in the slightest degree. If I did, it would be said that I was no longer fit to reign. In the past the Sed festival had been a way to rid the throne of an occupant who had grown too ill or too weak to carry on. It could lead to my downfall. Should it be true that the gods did not want a woman upon the Double Throne, this would be the moment for them to demonstrate their ire, to repudiate and to destroy me.

  Equally, if it were clearly successful, it would strengthen my position, proving positively that I belonged upon the throne. I well knew what the Sed festival entails, since I had assisted my father (may he live) at his Heb-Sed, in the role of the Great Royal Wife. It is the time when the Ka of the gods must mingle once more with the Ka of the Pharaoh. The time when the Pharaoh, providing he passes all the tests, becomes more than ever divine, marking a new cycle in the life of the King. And the influence of a successful Sed celebration, I knew, carries over into the Afterlife. It ensures that the Pharaoh’s reign is perpetuated for all eternity. Indeed, I thought, that was worth striving for. High stakes. All to lose and all to gain.

  Yes, I would go ahead. I would risk all. But I would plan everything meticulously and I would prepare with great thoroughness. I would begin at once.

  My father had marked the occasion by having his architect, the great Ineni, erect a superb pair of obelisks before the entrance to the temple of Amen-Ra at Karnak. As I have written, my coronation had been marked by the erection of my own obelisks under the guidance of Senenmut, and they stood at the eastern end of the temple, their gold cladding glittering in the sun, proud witnesses to my ascension to the throne. Now, I decided, I would emulate my royal father once more. I would commission another pair of obelisks to mark my jubilee, and I would place them at the very spot where the God had dipped to the child Thutmose. That should send a powerful message to all concerned, I thought.

  It was in fact my royal father who appeared to me in a dream and told me to do this. In my dream he instructed me to remove the wooden roof of his hypostyle hall in the temple at Karnak and to erect my obelisks in the space thus created. Who was I to gainsay the will of the transfigured dead? I gave the orders. These obelisks, I said, should be taller than any that had ever been erected by any Pharaoh before me; their points should reach the sky.

  Since my devoted Senenmut had died the previous year, I entrusted the task of overseeing the creation, transport and erection of these items to my steward Amenhotep. He is a very different kind of person to the one who was my right hand, yet very efficient in his own way. He does not have Senenmut’s endearing enthusiasm, but he plans everything down to the finest detail and nothing escapes his severely critical eye. I also charged him with the organisation of the country-wide festival itself, which would stretch over five days. I gave him a free hand in planning a feast that the people of Khemet would thoroughly enjoy, an occasion to remember. Of course it would demand deep coffers, but the nobles and others of high status would vie with each other in helping to bear the costs.

  Furthermore, I gave orders that a fine new solar barque should be built for the God to be transported across the river at the time of the Nile festival during my jubilee year. For my part, I thought, I shall show in this manner that I honour my heavenly father, Amen-Ra, while on the tips of my obelisks I shall have engravings made to show myself as a youth kneeling and receiving the emblems of kingship from him.

  According to tradition my jubilee would be proclaimed from Memphis on the first day of spring, the season of rejuvenation. This date was selected to emphasise the purpose of the celebration, which was to revivify the Pharaoh and reaffirm his fitness to rule. It was a public ritual of rebirth and rededication. But the festival would only take place several months later, in the first month of Peret, while the water is yet high, to allow time for work to be done on the new barque and on my obelisks. Then when they had been completed they could be floated down the river.

  While work was progressing on these projects, I considered how I might best prepare myself. It occurred to me that the Royal Physician had served my late father, may he live, at the time of his jubilee. He might be able to provide good counsel, I thought. Since the occasion when I had knocked out the Great Commander with a lamp, and even more since my devoted Senenmut had died, I had come more and more to depend on the funny little man. He has a fussy manner, but he truly is good at healing people; above all, he has insight into how people think and feel, and somehow by that time I had come to trust him. I called him to my small audience chamber.

  The rotund little man was sweating, for the day was hot. He looked at me anxiously. “What is the problem, Majesty? You are not ill?”

  “I am never ill,” I said. “No. I shall shortly announce my Sed festival, to be held later this year. I require some … advice.”

  “Ah,” he said, nodding. “Yes. I was able to be of assistance to His Majesty King Thutmose the First, may he live for ever, at the time of his jubilee. But Majesty … it is a terrible risk. Are you sure …”

  “I must silence my critics,” I told him, walking the floor in agitation. “I must face down the Great Commander. I believe that he is mustering supporters behind my back. Since he quelled the rebellion last year he has the status of a hero, and there is always the resistance to a female Pharaoh that tends to surface at such a time. I must … I must do something spectacular.”

  “A successful Sed festival would indeed be a great spectacle,” he nodded, “and it would impress the populace, since most people see only one such in their lifetime.”

  “But there is more than that,” I said. “Yes, I am doing it for all the reasons we have spoken of, but … I … I need to do it for myself.” Since the loss of my one true friend I never spoke intimately with anyone. I never showed weakness nor admitted doubts. But suddenly the kind regard of the little man undid me. “I am so tired, Hapu,” I confessed. “Tired and heartsore and like to lose the way. I need …” I bit hard on my lip as the tears threatened to slip over my cheeks.

  “Majesty feels the need to be renewed,” said Hapu.

  “Yes,” I said. “That is precisely what I need.”

  He nodded understandingly. “And that the Sed festival may achieve. Very well. How can I assist Your Majesty?”

  “Tell me how best I can p
repare myself. But, Hapu …”

  “Majesty?”

  “Nobody must know that I have consulted you on this. You understand?”

  “Of course,” he said. “I am Your Majesty’s personal physician. I am a loyal servant.” He looked somewhat injured.

  “I know,” I said.

  “Well. As to the spiritual testing of the living Pharaoh I can say nothing. The Sed demands that he must have the strength of spirit to absorb and to channel the fierce energy that emanates from the gods. If not, the Pharaoh could be destroyed.”

  I shivered. I had faith in my own strength, but what if the energy emanating from the gods was too much for me to bear?

  “But,” Hapu went on, “Your Majesty has always shown courage. Courage and strength. Sufficient, I believe, even for this tough test.” He did not say this is a sycophantic tone; his round eyes were earnest and fixed on me admiringly.

  “Thank you, Hapu,” I said, a little surprised. It has always been a strength of mine to engender admiration and trust in the men who serve me. Yet I had not thought that Hapu was one of my admirers.

  “Well then, while the spiritual demands are great, the physical are equally so, and as for that I do have some suggestions that might help Your Majesty prepare. Ah … where … ?”

  “The ceremonies will take place at Memphis,” I told him. “At the Palace of White Walls where my coronation was celebrated. I have ordered the great palace courtyard to be refurbished and prepared for the occasion.”

  “Most suitable,” said Hapu. “Majesty will need to begin at once, to build up the reserves of the body.”

  I nodded. The physical demands of a Heb-Sed are indeed daunting to contemplate. I recalled that my late father had had to call on every bit of his then waning strength to survive. The ceremonies go on for five days and the Pharaoh is fully involved throughout. There is no time to rest. For the first three days there are ritual processions accompanied by litanies, and offerings are made to the gods represented in the shrines lining the great courtyard. Then, on the fourth day, the Pharaoh must accept the testament of the gods that makes him the rightful heir to the throne of the Two Lands. It is a document encased in leather … but it is a supernatural object. If the Pharaoh has not properly absorbed the Ka of the gods, he will not have the strength to grasp it. This would be the crucial moment that would either confirm or destroy my reign. It was terrifying to imagine.

  “Assuming that Majesty is able to grasp the testament of the gods, Majesty will of course have to run the prescribed ritual courses. This requires great physical powers,” said Hapu, eyeing me somewhat dubiously.

  I recalled that the ritual run must be carried out for Lower Egypt and again for Upper Egypt, to affirm the unity of the Two Lands, thus eight times in all, towards the four points of the compass. I pictured my late father pounding around the white walls, calling on the stamina that had been his as a great general, perspiration pouring from his face and dripping onto his naked chest. He had had to bear several ritual articles in his hands as he ran – such as the testament of the gods and the symbolic oar with which the Pharaoh steers the ship of state. In the enervating desert heat, this was not a task for the faint-hearted – nor for the physically weak. I could not afford to stumble, hesitate, or fail to complete the course.

  “I know that it will be extremely demanding,” I said. “But I must do it. Hapu, you must help me to prepare myself, yet none must know what I am doing.”

  “Very well,” he agreed. “First, to build up Your Majesty’s bodily strength …”

  “Yes?”

  “It would be … helpful … if Your Majesty were a little …”

  “What?”

  “Slighter. To run more easily,” he said. “Good runners are slight.”

  “Oh.” I could see that it had cost him some courage to come out with this. It was true that I was no longer as slim as I had been formerly. Since I had lost my devoted Senenmut the previous year I had turned to sweet things for comfort and I had gained considerably in girth, there was no denying that fact. I considered. It could help me to become clearly slimmer, especially if it were not made obvious until the festival, when it might appear that I had been magically rejuvenated by the rituals. I could wear loose robes while I was reducing myself. “Yes, Hapu, I think you are right.”

  “Majesty should just eat fewer sweetmeats,” he suggested, “and smaller portions of all food. That should have the desired effect.” He looked relieved that I had not been angry with him for his comment. “Then, Majesty should practise going without the midday rest.”

  “Often I do not rest,” I said testily. “I work on documents. But all right. What do you think …”

  “Majesty should practise running,” said Hapu.

  “By the tears of Isis, how do you think I must do that? The Pharaoh cannot be seen racing around the streets of Thebes! Be sensible!”

  “No, Majesty, not in the streets. It is quite possible to run and yet remain in the same place,” said Hapu. “Just lifting the feet, but not moving forwards.”

  “Oh, I see,” I said thoughtfully. Well, I supposed I could do that in the afternoons on my portico. I always told the guards to remain some distance away and they need not see me. “Very well. I shall be sure to run regularly.”

  “The strength of the body must be built up,” said Hapu. “I will come to the palace, if Your Majesty agrees, and demonstrate how the soldiers of Egypt train to build strength. With heavy weights.”

  “My father … did he train?”

  “He trained. But, Majesty, the training is very hard going. A soldier of Egypt must be tough.”

  “So am I,” I said, glaring at him. “So must Pharaoh be.”

  He shuffled. “Majesty recalls that it will be necessary to shoot four arrows into the four directions of the compass at the end of the ceremonies?”

  “Yes, of course I do. Fortunately I have always been good at archery.”

  “Good. Then, it will be important for Your Majesty to sleep well every night during the celebrations. I shall provide a nightly drink with the juice of the poppy.”

  “That would be good,” I said, nodding. I could imagine that one might lie awake at such a time and he was right, it would be exhausting.

  “One more matter,” he said, somewhat nervously.

  “Yes?”

  “If it should happen,” he said, carefully, “if … if …”

  “Yes? What?”

  “If it should be the time for Your Majesty’s monthly flux …”

  “Oh, dear. That would be a disaster.” I had not thought of it.

  “Yes, it would be difficult. But I have a potion that will make it tardy. Not keep it away altogether, of course. But it does delay the flux by a few days.”

  “You are a wonderful man,” I said, smiling at him appreciatively. He had given me courage.

  His round face flushed with pleasure. “Majesty is gracious,” he said, making a deep obeisance.

  “Thank you, Hapu.”

  Now I felt ready to begin preparations. I was absolutely determined that I would survive the tests. And on the fifth and final day the double coronation would be repeated, just like the first time. I would stride forth regenerated. I would become new and strong and the Two Lands would once again be the fruitful fields of the Divine.

  Here endeth the twenty-first scroll.

  THE TWENTY-SECOND SCROLL

  The reign of Hatshepsut year 15

  Everyone concerned laboured mightily to complete the pair of obelisks I had commissioned in time for my jubilee festival. As the date for the festival approached, I feared that the work might not be done in time, but all other work at the quarry had been suspended and the two mighty spears were indeed completed with only days to spare. On the day when the enormous barge arrived with its extraordinary cargo, there was almost as much excitement as the day the expedition returned from Punt. Noisy crowds lined the river banks and cheered loudly when the boats sailed into view. Musicians playe
d martial music accompanied by drums and sistrums.

  I myself was on the quay enthroned on a temporary wooden platform to receive the obelisks. I was much afraid that there would be some mishap, for the barge was very cumbersome, but fortunately my people are accomplished boatmen and the precious load was safely brought ashore.

  Next, the obelisks had to be transported overland to the temple. Most of the inscriptions had already been done at the quarry, describing my relationship to my earthly and my heavenly father and emphasising my right to rule. But the gold cladding on the tips would be carried out at the temple itself. This time Thitui would not allow me to clad the entire shafts with gold. He said it would be needlessly extravagant and it might lead to criticism of my majesty, so I heeded him.

  I gave instructions that the inscriptions would also record these words: My majesty ordered this work to be done for my heavenly father Amen. I did this for him with the love a king has for a god. It was my desire to make it for him, gilded with electrum … I undertake what my mouth speaks; I do not go back on my word. I gave the finest electrum for it, which I measured like sacks of grain. My majesty ordered this quantity, more than the Two Lands had ever seen.

  Well, admittedly, there was a slight exaggeration, since the first two obelisks actually bore more gold than these two. But then these were bigger. None larger had ever been erected. They would be the tallest in the world.

  The obelisks were transported on rollers to the temple, where the space for them had been prepared. When the cladding had been completed, the obelisks could finally be installed, their bases planted fast in the earth of Khemet and their fingers pointing to heaven. Again I was present to observe the work being carried out. The steward Amenhotep seemed to bob up everywhere.