Hatshepsut took to visiting Neferu's mortuary temple in the early dawns, standing alone with offerings in her hands, listening to the sighing of the morning wind about the little pillars. Now she understood her
sister's painful, pathetic attempts to free herself from a burdensome existence, and for the first time Hatshepsut really mourned for the life so soon ended. Neferu's likeness regarded her with a gentle, constant forgiveness, but Hatshepsut found no peace saying the prayers to the dead over and over. Sometimes she awoke with the words already on her lips.
She saw her father become fatter, more somnolent in spite of the old glitter that could still strike fear into all. He would spend his time between long dozes playing at draughts with pen-Nekheb, usually beating him, waking to eat and drink and sleep again. She also watched the younger Thothmes. A mild, plump man now, he seemed to grow stronger, sucking the life from his father. Not that Thothmes was a cat suddenly turning into a leopard. Outwardly he was still the lazy, affable boy who rose to his sister's jibes with instant irritation. But he was everywhere—in the temple, at all feasts, riding about the city behind his charioteer. Hatshepsut could not explain the apprehension these things caused in her, especially when she caught him staring at her, his eyes blank under the slow smiles. So she redoubled her efforts to learn, to understand, to know all that passed in her kingdom.
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Five years after her coronation, in the spring, Thothmes went to sleep and did not wake. The feast of Min had begun, and Amun had gone from his temple to become the lettuce eater at Luxor, God of all excesses of the flesh. Thebes was in a ferment night and day of drunkenness and license, and the palace lay empty while the inhabitants exhausted themselves to the south.
Ineni found the old King lying on his cushions, his eyes closed and his mouth open, the protruding teeth bared in the grin of death. For a moment he stood looking down on the man who had been his life for so long. He turned quickly, sending a servant running for the Royal Physician and the sem-priests, and made his way to Hatshepsut's rooms. He found her preoccupied, dressing for the night's rituals, her litter waiting outside to take her to Luxor. He was admitted only after he had lost his temper and shouted at the guard on the door, and the astonished man had let him push past unannounced.
The Queen came toward him, bracelets clinking, fire in her great eyes. *'Ineni, have you lost your head? I am in a hurry, as you can see. I should have you arrested!" There were lines of stress in her face, and the muscles of her long neck were rigid. The feast was nearing its end, and she was tired from long nights of dancing. She snatched up the Cobra Crown, holding it tightly in nervous fingers; and her slave came after her, comb in hand.
Ineni bowed, but found he could say nothing.
The royal foot began to tap. ''Speak, speak! What is it? Are you ill?"
At last he opened his mouth, afraid of the words that must fall from his lips.
She saw something of his news in his face. ''My father! Is he sick?"
Ineni shook his head. "The God is dead. Majesty. He passed to the Judgment Hall in his sleep. I have called the priests and the physician. Perhaps you should send word to his son."
She stared at him for a long moment, then turned away abruptly, placing the little crown on her couch.
He filled a cup with wine and went to her, but she refused it. He stood helplessly, not knowing what to do.
Presently the naked shonlders squared, and her head came up. "It was hard for you, Noble One, to bring me this news," she said softly. ''Now send for my herald, and when he has come, send him to Luxor. The God must return, and the feasting must cease. O my father!" she cried suddenly, throwing up her arms, ''why did you leave me so soon? We had not done enough together, you and I!"
Ineni left her, and on his way out he ordered her Steward to summon Senmut, doing it without thought, instinctively knowing that he would hold the comfort she sought. He went swiftly in search of her herald, aware as never before of the empty, echoing passages without light or voice. Between one day and the next, Egypt was floundering in a marsh of uncertainty. Ineni's thoughts were on young Thothmes, surely even now in the arms of some priestess on the floor of the Luxor temple. He felt his throat tighten.
Senmut ran as he had never run before. The word had reached him as he, Benya, and Menkh, tipsy and exhilarated, were leaving a beerhouse on the outskirts of Luxor. He had planned to watch the dancing in the temple garden and then go home to Ta-kha'et, but at the whispering of the perspiring, frightened herald he had dropped his mug at Benya's feet and begun to run. His feet pounded out the two miles. His arms pumped and his head swam with beer fumes. Through the fog he saw pilgrims and revelers wending their way with lights and laughter on the other side of the avenue. They stopped and watched the demented youth fly past, his kilt streaming behind him. It was a cool evening, still and sweet; and the water of the Nile, flowing silently beside the road, was dark and inviting. But he ran on, cursing his chariot, which stood in its stall behind the palace, cursing his boat, which rocked at anchor beside the city wharf, cursing his litter bearers, who had left him to carouse. The heavy belt that held his seal banged against his legs. He tore it oflf and, without stopping, wrapped it around his arm. He flew in at the Queen's private garden entrance and slowed to a stumbling trot, coming up at last before her golden door. He paused for a moment to still his shallow breath and calm his trembling limbs before nodding to the guard and walking through the door.
She was standing in the middle of the room, wringing her hands aimlessly. When she saw who it was, she gave a cry and ran into his arms. As she fell against him, his arms went about her of their own accord. He spoke curtly to the slave, ordering her out; and when the door had closed, he led Hatshepsut to the couch, sitting her down, stroking the tumble of black hair while her tears wet his chest.
"I am sorry, so sorry, Majesty," he said softly, his lips against her head.
She went on crying, the tears giving way to great shuddering sobs that wracked her, tearing at him also. He had never before felt so helpless. In the end he was quiet, holding her tightly, while out in the passage he heard whispering and the sudden pattering of many feet. At last he gently pushed her away and went to her cosmetic table, bringing back a cloth. He dipped it in wine and wiped her face. The eyes were black-circled under swollen lids, and her tears had coursed through the kohl, sending paint down her cheeks and onto her neck. He washed her thoroughly, and she became still, watching him expressionlessly. When he had finished, he cradled her in his arms once more, holding the cup to her lips. She drank meekly, sobbing once in a while. She moaned and closed her eyes, putting her head on his shoulder.
*'I cannot go out there," she said.
'Tou must," he replied. 'There is much to do, and a queen can cry only in the privacy of her bedchamber."
''No!" she said. "He was my father, my father! O Mighty One, where are you now?" In her agitation her nails bit into his arm. "The Light of Egypt has gone out!"
"You are the Light of Egypt," he said firmly, harshly. "You are the Queen. Stand tall in your grief, and show your subjects the metal from which you were poured."
She shook her head and began to cry again. "I cannot," she repeated. It was a cry from the soul, the cry of any bereaved woman. She fumbled at her table. "Here. Here are my seals and my cartouches. Take them, Senmut. I will not leave this room until I walk with my father into the valley, to his tomb. You settle the affairs of the audience chamber."
He listened in mounting alarm. This breakdown was so unlike her. He thought of young Thothmes, even now outside her door. He pushed her away from him roughly and stood up, forcing her to raise her head to him. "Listen to me," he almost shouted at her, "and listen well. You are not some witless peasant woman cowering in the darkness of her hovel. Did your father rear you so that in one weak moment you could destroy all that he made? Do you want your enemies to say, 'See! The Queen of Egypt is broken as the frail reed we
thought her to be!' " He snatched up her hands, shaking them urgently. "Stand! Stand in gratitude to your father, who gave you the world! Do not bend under the load. Outside wait the High Priest and your Governors. And Thothmes, your brother. Will you show them a fainting woman?"
She pulled her fingers from his grasp and sprang to her feet. "How dare you speak to me like this! I will drag you in chains to the prisons! I will flog you with my own hands!"
Tlic old, cold fire from her angry eyes licked him; but he met it steadily, not flinching.
She lowered her gaze and flung herself across the room to sit before her mirror. "You are right," she said. '*! forgive you your words. How often must I lean on your breast, Senmut? Open the doors, and send in my slave. When I am ready, 1 will speak to the others without."
*'He was a great God, a great Pharaoh," Senmut told her quietly. ''His memory will cover Egypt as long as Ra carries him aloft in the Holy Barque."
'Tes," she replied, smiling wanly at him. ''I will not disgrace the love we had for each other. He was my father, my protector, my friend, but I will do as he would wish. Egypt is mine."
Senmut went to the door, calling for Nofret, and the girl slipped in. The officials crowded behind her, but he shut the door in their faces. He went and sat on Hatshepsut's couch until he was sure that she had recovered, and when he saw her place the crown on her head with a characteristic flourish, he left her.
It was he, not she, who staggered with weariness as he walked through the passages, now filled with silent, frightened people, to the haven of his own bed. Ta-kha'et was asleep on her mat by the door, the cat curled into the hollow of her back, and he did not wake them. He stripped and washed quickly, but before he succumbed to the tiredness that threatened to put him to sleep forever, he sent a sealed message to Hapuseneb, who was attending ceremonies at Buto. ''Come back," it read tersely. "You are needed."
In all the seventy days of mourning Hatshepsut did not break down again. She went about the business of government coldly, unsmiling, hiding an intensity of grief that burned and ate at her until she felt that she could never rise to face another day. The priests who had descended the steps to the Nilometers to measure the rise of the river reported to her that the flood had been unprecedented. They told her that she could raise afl taxes, but she listened absently and instructed her tax collectors to lower all tribute for one year in memory of Thothmes. She received the Viceroy of Nubia and Ethiopia, Inebny the Just, who relayed that the mines were working at full capacity and that she would have to look elsewhere for gold, but she sent him to Senmut and told him to study the problem. She felt that never again would she take an interest in weighing out the gold for her monuments, for of what use were great buildings when her father was not there to grunt his approval? A caravan arrived, bringing turquoise from Sinai, crystal and red chalcedony from the Eastern Desert. Whereas before she would have sat on her throne and eagerly
watched the counting of the treasures, in her grief she cared nothing, and it was Ineni, in his capacity as Treasurer, who called the weights and values to the scribe Anen and saw to the portion for Amun. Only with Senmut could she talk of her sorrow, and into his ear it all poured, but she did not encourage any closer contact. She withdrew into her godhead, and though he ached to hold her again, she was more like a cold-gleaming star illuminating the night than a woman of flesh and blood.
She and Thothmes walked together through the Necropolis and into the desert hills on the day of the funeral. Hatshepsut fell upon the coflBin, scattering the flowers she had already laid there, in a last despairing act of loss. Her mother's funeral had been peaceful, comforting. She had had her father's hand to hold on the way back to the palace. But here in the dimness of the tomb, surrounded by the things they had shared, each one carrying a message of happier days, she could not control herself any longer. Thothmes was moved in spite of himself. He bent awkwardly to help her to her feet, and she did not shrug him off but leaned on his soft arm. When she reached the sunlight again, she disengaged herself without a word and left him, striding down the winding path to the waiting mourners, leaving him to follow her like a shadow.
There was no relief for her in the palace, no quiet meal shared with a father who understood a young girl's need for a word, a game, a joke to take away the pain and formality of death. She went to her silent room and firmly shut the door.
Later I will pray to you, O my father, she thought, standing alone in a patch of stray sunlight, letting the quiet enter her. But now I want only to have all as it was.
She took off her blue mourning robe and her coronet and lay on her couch. Though she did not want to, she slept.
In the middle of the night Senmut was awakened by a messenger from the north. The man was tired, his clothes rumpled and his face drawn. As Senmut turned up the lamp and put on a kilt, he saw that there was no scroll or letter.
'There is wine on the table and bread," Senmut said to him. *'Sit and eat before you give me your message."
But the other declined. ''I am the first to have come from the delta," he said, his voice ragged with tiredness. ''My message is short. Three weeks ago Menena left his estates, and he is even now in the chambers of Thothmes the Young. That is all."
Senmut whistled. "That is enough. Are you sure that Menena has disembarked and is in the palace?"
The man nodded emphatically. "I saw him with my own eyes."
'Then go at once to Hapuscncb the Vizier. He sleeps in his house a mile downriver. Take my guards with you and this." He searched angrily in his ivory chest until he found Hapuseneb's seal. 'Tell him that he is to come to the Queen at once. I will meet him in the garden outside her doors."
Ta-kha*et was awake now, sitting up on her reed mat and listening intently. Senmut called her. 'Tind me a cloak and my sandals, little one."
She got up, and the cat stretched and yawned, padding to the corner, where he watched them with unblinking yellow eyes. The messenger bowed and left, taking the seal, and Ta-kha'et put a timid hand on Senmut's arm.
''Master, what is it? Are we in danger?"
He kissed the sleepy eyes while his mind raced. It was too late—and too soon. Too late for his Queen to do anything more than bow to the inevitable, and much, much too soon for her to assemble and strengthen a government that would appoint her Pharaoh. It was a bitter blow.
"Go back to bed." He pushed Ta-kha'et toward the couch. "Sleep in comfort, for I shall not return tonight. If Senmen seeks me, give him wine, and tell him I will greet him in the morning. We were to see to a consignment of calves. And do not fear! There is no danger to you, lovely one!
She was already climbing into his bed, and the cat sprang up beside her.
Standing in the shadow of the wall and pacing feverishly, he waited for Hapuseneb. The night was fine, and the moon was at her peak, casting pale shades among the trees, but for once Senmut had no eyes for the night. At any moment he expected to hear the approach of the old High Priest and his minions, and his stomach knotted and began to ache. The night birds rustled and chattered spasmodically in the sycamores, and the fish in the little ornamental pool rose and fell, sucking the air in tiny plops. At last a darker shadow moved among the tree trunks. Hapuseneb came to him silently, his eyes showing grayer than ever under the moon's blind fingers, and Senmut quickly told him the message.
Hapuseneb listened without surprise, saying nothing. At last he shrugged. "There is nothing to be done," he said. "The time is not ripe for her. I do not think that Thothmes has any vast ambition. He wants only to be vindicated for the years spent in failure under his father's critical eye, and I think he will be satisfied with the title of Pharaoh as long as he need not do much work. Egypt will not suffer. He is after all a rather likable young man."
"The Queen does not think so."
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Hapuseneb laughed softly, his teeth gleaming white. He put an arm around Senmut's shoulders. 'The Queen holds the spirit of a man in her beautiful young body, and she cannot tolera
te weakness in any. But Thothmes is her brother, and I think she has a small affection for him. Nevertheless, his cloying yoke will irk her."
They left the garden and waited at her door while her guard obtained her permission for them to enter. When he let them pass, they went in and bowed.
She was sitting in her low chair next to the couch, Nofret beside her. A fine gossamer cloak wreathed her. Her feet were bare, and her undressed hair fell to her shoulders. *'It must be serious,'' she greeted them, ''for never before have my two friends seen fit to disturb their Queen's slumbers. Say on. I am ready." She folded her hands.
"Thothmes has recalled Menena," Senmut said. "Even now they talk in the Prince's apartments."
She nodded. "And so?"
He looked at her disbelievingly. "Majesty, you knew?"
"I had some idea. My spies are every bit as good as yours. What are your thoughts?"
Senmut and Hapuseneb looked at each other, and Senmut spoke. "I think that Thothmes wishes to be Pharaoh and that he has offered Menena a return from exile to support his claim. I think that the priests will be behind him. Your Majesty has not ruled for long enough to prove to the people that you are in every way an excellent governor."
"And you, Hapuseneb? What of the army?"
"Majesty, if you fight this thing, then Egypt will run with blood. The generals favor Thothmes because he is a man. The army needs a man as its commander in chief, but the common soldiers love you for your skill at the bow and the chariot. The people of the country will also favor Thothmes. They worship you as the Daughter of the God, and as the mighty Queen, but they want a male on the Horus Throne."
"Well said. You have given me truth."
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