Child of the morning

by Gedge, Pauline, 1945-

"And to your amazing good fortune!" Benya added fervently. "If it had not been for the beneficence of the little Crown Prince, I would even now be lying with a mouth full of sand."

  Senmut laughed. "She is not so little anymore," he said. "It has been long since Thebes welcomed you, Benya, and little ones grow."

  "So they do, and glad I am of it. She is most beautiful, or so you keep tefling me!"

  "Do I? She is my Lord. I seem to have become her servant above Pharaoh himself, though how it came about, I am not sure even now."

  The wine came, and they linked arms and drank.

  Benya smacked his lips. "Charu, I swear! You have indeed risen in the world. And to think that I was out in the hills sweating my guts while you sat here swilling the wine of the aristocrat!"

  Senmut regarded him with aflFection. He had not changed. Even the threat of death had shaken him only momentarily, but he had bounced back, ever childlike, ever fresh. "The Prince has saved you in order to work," he reminded him.

  *'Ah, yes. This work. Just what exactly am I supposed to do? Are you my master in this, Senmut?"

  **We will work together. There will be no talk of master and servant between us, you ass!'' Senmut told him about the valley and of his vision and of the Prince's dream, and Benya listened carefully, his interest caught.

  ''It sounds like the great valley I saw once. I looked down into it from high in the hills." He suddenly stopped, aghast.

  Senmut said in agitation, ''No more, Benya! Tell me no more! And curb that blabbing tongue of yours, or you will kill me!"

  Benya paled. "Forgive me, my friend," he said humbly. "From now on I shall never speak again of the things I have seen."

  "See that you do not."

  They drank some more. Then Benya said, "The temple. Draw up the plans, and then I will tell you what stone will stand and which will not take the strain. It sounds to me as if you want sandstone, but granite is the stronger."

  "There must be no sense of walls, of too much that is solid, and the stone must blend with the cliff at the back so that at first glance all seems as one."

  "But she wants a rock sanctuary, far in the side of the hill. How do you balance the whole?"

  "That is my problem. I suggest that you and I go there soon and study the site thoroughly, and then I can make a draft together with Her Highness. Where are you staying?"

  "In my old cell, next to the Overseer of Engineers."

  "That is too far from me. We must work closely. I will see if I can get you a room here."

  Benya looked at his friend curiously but said nothing. This assurance was new, as was the apartment, the slave, the good couch in the tiny bedroom. But the steady, measuring eyes were no different, nor the strange, slow smile. Benya wondered if he was to have a completely new life in more ways than one.

  They visited the site together, poring over the rock face, viewing the valley from every angle, but as yet there was no fully formed plan in Senmut's mind, and he had not seen Hatshepsut since before her mother's funeral. He went to the valley twice on his own, roaming about and seeking inspiration, and once he saw her there, sitting on a rock in the broiling sun, swaddled from head to toe, her chin on her knees and her arms about her legs while the Nubian held the parasol over her. But if she saw him, she gave no sign. She seemed immersed in some far vision all her own, and he left quietly, not wishing to disturb her. There would be

  time enough for consultations and discussions. He felt the sun on his strong back, the blood coursing through his long limbs. There would be time enough for everything. He went often to the training ground with spear and bow, hoping that she would come to run a chariot around the circuit. His aim improved and his wrists grew sinewy, but still she did not appear.

  ^^

  Wk^

  On the last day of the month of Apap, when once more the Nile had become a lake over all the land, mirroring a winter sky, Thothmes sent for Hatshepsut. Her birthday celebrations were over, she was now fifteen, and the promise of her early years was fast coming to fruition. She still stubbornly clung to the kilts of her youth, but her hips curved gently under them, and her breasts were full and well formed beneath the jewels she loved. She wore her hair loose, scorning the many wigs that sat on their stands in her bedchamber, but she had many circlets of gold and silver and electrum with which to dress her head. She had been with Nozme when the summons came, talking of her childhood days and of her mother, sharing memories with the old woman and playing with her cats. But the messenger was solemn, and Hatshepsut knew in her bones that this was to be no ordinary audience.

  The winds of change were blowing with the breath of Pharaoh, and the palace shifted uneasily. It was a bad season. The mosquitoes bit and worried, and there was sickness among the many children always underfoot. Pharaoh brooded again, and his body servants touched him warily, for he seemed all nerves and tender spots. Only the Crown Prince spread laughter, and all wished for the storm to break so that they could breathe again.

  But it was no storm that Thothmes was brewing. He greeted Hatshepsut amiably, kissing her and setting warm wine and pastries before her. But she sat on the edge of her chair with her eyes on his face, and he stood over her, his hands on his hips. 'The New Year approaches," he said, **and with it come changes. You have been Crown Prince for long enough, Hatshepsut. That is a title for a child, and you are no longer a child. I am tired, and I need the help that a regent gives. We are going on a journey, you and I, a royal progress. I will at last show you your kingdom, all its glories, so that you may better appreciate the gift the God gives you. And when we return, I am going to have you crowned Heiress.''

  ''Are you to wed me, father? Is there trouble because my mother is dead and to hold the throne you need a royal woman?"

  He burst out laughing, and she looked annoyed.

  no

  "It was a natural question! I have been told often enough by my tutors that to be Pharaoh one must marry the right blood, and since you, dear father, seem to be truly inunortal, I assumed that you would marry me."

  ''Do you think that 1 need another wife to legitimize me? Me, who has held Egypt tight in my grasp for nearly a henti? No, my Hatshepsut, such a marriage is not necessary. I wish only to unload some of the work onto you. 1 promised you the Double Crown, and you shall have it, but with it goes much work. Are you ready?"

  ''I have been ready for months," she flashed at him, ''and in that time Mighty Pharaoh has seethed like a pot that cannot boil. But I did not doubt you. Amun fathered me for just such a moment. You told me so, and deep within me I know it to be true. And I will rule well. I know that, too."

  He settled himself beside her. "You were born to it, Hatshepsut, as Ineni was born to design and pen-Nekheb to fight. But I must warn you that not all will welcome you as Heiress, and if I die too soon, you may have trouble with the legalists."

  "Pah! Old men who pore over books, whose blood has long since dried in their bodies. The army is yours and therefore mine, and whom else should I fear?"

  "You surprise me. Of course you need not fear the army. The soldiers think well of you, the Prince who can hurl a spear from a bucking chariot and hit your mark. But what of Thothmes, your brother, and the priests of Amun?"

  "What of them? Thothmes has no more ambition than a gnat. Give him his women and his food, and he will lie quiet. And you dismissed the cunning Menena long ago."

  "Yes, but many priests will fear that under the rule of a woman the country will grow soft, and the borders once more will be harried, and no longer will the Keftiu and the Kushites and the Nine Bowmen pour tribute into the greedy hands of the God's servants. They would serve Thothmes until they saw that, more than any woman, he fears the heat and blood of the battlefield."

  "Then what shall I do?"

  "Be crowned by me, and labor beside me. Learn all you can of government, and when I die, it may be that your hold will be strong enough to quash the flutterings of revolt that will surely come."

  She rose swiftly, w
alking around him. "Then it will not be easy. At last I understand something of Neferu's fears, though never in her darkest dreams could she have imagined that the Throne of Egypt would be mine to sit upon." She laughed, stretching forth her arms. "1 will be Queen. Nay, more than Queen. I will be Pharaoh!"

  ''Only when I go to the God," Thothmes reminded her, amused, ''and by then you may be weary of the yoke of power and seek out Thothmes, preferring a soft marriage bed to a hard royal throne." He was teasing her, but she threw him a look of such horror that he ceased to smile.

  "O my father! I would rather bed with the lowest soldier in the army than with Thothmes." She shuddered. "I cannot bear a fool."

  "Beware!" he said sharply. "Speak no more of your brother in this manner! Your mother feared for your light tongue, and it may be that in spite of all my decrees, there is more to him than the eye sees. He may yet sit upon the Horus Throne."

  Hatshepsut's teeth bared. "Only at my death," she said. "Only then."

  "So be it. We will spend the month of Mesore visiting the ancient marvels of this land, and it is your duty to do homage to the gods whose shrines await you. Then we will return, and you will have the crown. I have chosen New Year's Day, after many consultations with the astrologers. First you will go into the temple, and there await the word of Amun. Spend the rest of this month in preparation, Hatshepsut, but do not speak of this yourself, for I do not intend to make a pronouncement until we return. Examine also your doubts. You must be sure that this is what you really want. Are you sure?"

  "I do not need to search my mind," she said firmly. "I have no doubts, nor will I ever have. This gift is not only yours to give, Pharaoh, and I know that from the beginning the God also intended this for me. Do not fear. I will rule well."

  "I have no doubts about that!" her father snapped. "Now go back to your cats and your flowers for a few days, and enjoy the last true freedom you will ever have."

  "Tush!" She kissed him on his cheek and floated to the door. "I will always be free, O my father, because all in me is subordinate to my will. So should it be with every man. But as it is not so, the strong rule the weak, like Thothmes."

  She danced out, and he sent for his maps. No God must be forgotten, and shrines dotted the banks of the Nile throughout its noble length.

  A week later Senmut received a scroll from one of the Royal Messengers. He took it immediately to his own rooms, for he had been eating in the engineers' rooms with Benya. He saw immediately that this was no rudely printed letter from the village of his father, and he broke the heavy seal with trembling fingers. The black hieroglyphs sprang out to meet his eye.

  I am soon to embark on a voyage with my father and will be away for the month of Mesore. Do thou continue in the work which I have set

  thee, and when I return, I will begin to build. I give to thee the slave Ta-kha'et, to be to thee what thou wilt. Do not keep her idle.

  It was signed by the Great Royal Scribe Anen himself, for Hatshepsut. Senmut had scarcely finished reading when there was a knock on his door. He called, ''Enter!" Ta-kha'et glided in, closing the door behind her and prostrating herself. He looked down on the shining red head with amazement. ''Get up!" She scrambled to her feet and stood before him, eyes downcast. "And what am I supposed to do with you?" he asked her. "Look at me!" Immediately the green eyes were fixed on his face, and in their depths he read mirth. She was enjoying the joke.

  "The Crown Prince gave me to you so that you may not go abroad under the sun without kohl," she said. She had a high, lilting voice, heavily accented; and when she spoke, she revealed tiny white teeth. Her skin was pale, almost white, and he knew that whatever she was, she came from a country far from Egypt. "The Crown Prince also said that I was to amuse you while she was away and make the nights of winter less tedious."

  Senmut grinned. "Where do you come from?" She looked at him, confused. "Where were you born?"

  She raised her saffron-clad shoulders in an eloquent gesture. "I do not know. Master. I remember a great cold and the sea, but little more. I have been in the household of the son of the Vizier of the North for a long time, as a body servant."

  "Then how did you come to be in the palace?"

  "The Prince Hapuseneb gave me to Her Highness because I was skilled in the use of all cosmetics."

  Senmut finally burst into laughter, and she smiled back at him, understanding growing between them. "You have other skills, I suppose."

  She lowered her eyes, pleating the skirt of her kilt with freckled fingers. "That is for you to say. Master."

  "We will see. You are indeed a most valued gift."

  "I hope so. The Crown Prince told me to prove my worth as soon as possible."

  He dismissed her and sat beside his couch, grinning, then went about his business, eating again with Benya in the evening. But when he returned from his meal, wrapped in his cloak, for the nights of winter were often cold, he found a brazier blazing in the corner of his bedroom and the lamps lit and incense burning sweetly before his little shrine to Amun.

  Ta-kha'et bowed as he entered. She was wearing only a thin garment that seemed to halo her small figure like the smoke that rose in the crucible, and she had woven winter flowers, mauve and green, in her hair.

  ''Would you like hot spiced wine to warm you on this cold night?" she asked him, but her eyes spoke of a drug more heady than warm wine, more spiced than the freshest honey cakes.

  He could not speak. He moved toward her, and she caught the cloak that slipped from his shoulders, dropping it behind her on the stool and turning back to him, hands already exploring his shoulders, his taut back. He put an arm around her, drawing her tightly to him, feeling the hard swell of her breasts as his lips found the warmth of her neck. She laughed softly, drawing him to his couch, and the lamps burned low and began to flutter before he spoke again.

  So Senmut, peasant, priest, and architect, lost his virginity at last. He grew fond of Ta-kha'et, of her dry wit, her comfortable silences, her sudden, unarticulated passions. With her waiting for him in the security of his little room, he found that he could work with a clearer mind. Doubtless the Prince knew this, he mused, and he realized that the dedication Hatshepsut demanded of him in his capacity as architect was not to be marred by the interior tensions and strivings of an unsatisfied male. How cunning she was, and how astute! And how pitiless in her single-mindedness, her assumption that all would be as she wished if she but desired the end. He went back to the plans with renewed vigor and to his couch with an ever springing appetite.

  On the evening of the last day of the month of Apap, Hatshepsut approached the temple of Amun. She was alone but for the Follower of His Majesty who escorted her through the cold, wet-smelling trees; and when she reached the first pylon that warned her of the entrance to the holy precincts, he bowed and left her.

  She was dressed only in her kilt, and her father had washed her thoroughly of all cosmetics, oils, and perfumes. Her hair was bound up and fastened on top of her head with a simple copper pin, and she wore no other ornament.

  The sun had set an hour ago, and the heat had rapidly drained from the land, Ra taking with him all light, all warmth, all color. Hatshepsut shivered in the cold wind that funneled past her back, through the pylon, and on into the deserted outer court of the temple. She knelt, kissed the ground, and hurried on, eager to be out of the wind; but the courtyard was as cold and deserted as the garden had been, the next pylon and the next and the next casting deep shadows onto the golden floors. No priests lingered here, and no worshipers disturbed the winter evening. The girl looked about her for a moment, wanting to run from the dark places in which the wind sighed. It was the night of her private meeting with

  Amun, and no lamps had been lit. She stepped forward hesitantly, passing the holes that were only connecting passages but that gaped at her like black mouths slavering to swallow her up, and crossed the outer court as quickly as she could, muttering a prayer. Between the third and the fourth pylons the darkness was thi
cker, for here her father's cedar roof shut out whatever light the sky still held. She ran from pillar to towering pillar, seeking the golden doors that led to another hall and another passage, smaller, more secret, fraught with mysteries, and so to the sanctuary, and the Great God Himself.

  The doors were within reach now, over twice her height and ten paces wide. She jumped and uttered a cry as a silent figure glided out of the darkness, key in hand.

  It was the High Priest, who had come to escort her to the sanctuary. He was heavily cloaked and hooded, and she longed to tear the cloth from him and wrap it around her own naked shoulders. He signaled to her and unlocked the doors. They opened without a sound, and the two passed through, starting up the narrow hall together. At the far end lay other doors, ivory and electrum, and here the High Priest once more used a key, standing back this time for her to go in alone.

  The air was very cold and utterly without movement, as if she stood at the heart of the temple. As the footsteps of the High Priest died away, Hatshepsut felt as if she was being slowly stifled in the middle of a vast labyrinth. I have nothing to fear, she told herself, he is my Father. But for a long time she could not turn to face the One who waited, though she felt him, his presence a freezing, palpable thing here in the holiest of holiest, where his power radiated day and night. But at last she swung around, and saw him.

  He sat calmly upon his golden throne, his golden hands upon his golden knees, his feet surrounded by silver and gold dishes, his body clothed in the best linen the country could make. She could see better now, for on each side of the enormous, monolithic figure dim lamps burned and before his throne two copper censers stood, glowing and smoking forever. In the wall on each side of him were set small doors, one to the High Priest's rooms and one to Thothmes' retiring chamber, but they were shut tight and did not appear to have any handles or locks. It was a long time before Hatshepsut could look on his face. She dropped to the icy golden floor, pressing her face to it, her eyes tightly closed, but she found that she could not pray as she had intended. His presence was too near, too overpowering. It surrounded her; she was suffocated by it. She remained prone until her shivering back and aching legs and arms demanded change. When she was ready, she sat before him cross-legged and looked into his face.