“This part of the ceremony signifies rebirth,” Senenmut whispered sternly. “It transforms Thutmose from man to god.”
That didn’t make it seem any less silly to me.
Two priests, one representing the god Horus, the other his uncle Set, led twelve servants bearing an empty palanquin covered with a linen canopy to Thut. He stepped into it and the priests lifted the chair and carried it to the first shrine, Per–wer. “This part of the ceremony symbolically reunites the Two Lands,” Senenmut said.
Thut stepped from the chair and seated himself on a throne inside Per–wer. A priest stood behind the throne, holding Hedjet, the White Crown of Upper Kemet, a bulbous tiara of white leather.
“This priest represents the ka of the king’s ancestor who once ruled the land from Nekhen, the ancient southern capital.”
The priest lowered the crown onto Thut’s head.
“The priest has just combined the divine royal ka with the king’s mortal body, altering his very being,” Senenmut said.
“Thut is now a good god?” I asked.
Senenmut nodded.
Thut returned to the palanquin and was borne across the hall to Per–nu. Once again he took his place on a throne within that shrine. A priest removed the White Crown from his head. Another priest replaced it with the Red Crown.
“This priest represents the soul of Pe, an ancestor of the king from the ancient northern capital of Buto, in the delta.”
The crown, of red leather, was low in front and high in back.
“Desheret, the Red Crown, is linked to the morning light at dawn, when the sun is reborn.”
Thut climbed once more into the palanquin and the priests returned him to the pavilion in the center of the hall, the Red Crown still on his head. He ascended the dais and seated himself on a highly–decorated ebony throne between Iset and Hatshepsut. Iset smiled at him proudly and he momentarily placed his hand atop hers. The priest holding the White Crown came forward and placed it within the Red Crown.
“Now the king wears Sekhemti, the Double Crown,” Senenmut said.
The high priest ascended the dais.
“Hapuseneb is attaching a gold uraeus, the cobra goddess Wadjet of Lower Kemet, and a solid gold vulture, the goddess Nekhbet of Upper Kemet, to the front of the combined crown,” Senenmut said. “The Two Ladies, representing the Two Lands.”
A priest removed Sekhemti. Then, one after another, Hapuseneb placed a series of crowns on Thut’s head.
“The Atef Crown, similar to the White Crown, with ostrich feathers attached to its sides, is associated with Osiris. The king will wear it during religious functions. The Blue Crown, Kepresh, is a leather helmet, worn during wartime. See the elaborate arrangement of faience disks on its surface? Now the nemes headdress of yellow and blue striped cloth, falling loosely to the king’s shoulders. He’ll wear it almost daily; it’s connected to solar rejuvenation. Now the diadem, Seshed, another daily crown, with a rearing cobra hanging beside each ear and another rising in front.”
Priests handed Hapuseneb a crook and then a flail, each constructed of gold and copper and faience, and he bowed and placed them in Thut’s hands.
“Those are symbols of authority from a time when the people of Kemet still wandered the desert and had not yet settled the river valley,” Senenmut said.
Then Hapuseneb attached a false beard to Thut’s chin, held in place by cords stretched around his ears. I thought it looked ridiculous on someone so young. I’d make sure to tease Thut about it later.
A priest carried forward with an elaborately decorated casket, its hinged top open. Thut peered inside momentarily, then nodded.
“The casket contains a document confirming the king’s right to rule,” Senenmut noted.
Thut rose from his throne.
“Now the king will walk around the outer edge of the hall,” Senenmut said. “As he does he’ll be symbolically circling and taking possession of the Two Lands.”
Thut descended from the dais, along with Iset and Hatshepsut. There was a path about three or four feet wide between the officials and the walls of the hall. Thut, followed by the two women and priests and chantresses, made his slow walk. Everyone else remained in their places.
“Had this ceremony been held at Mennefer, the king would have walked all the way around the city walls,” Senenmut said. “It would have taken hours. Let us be thankful the ceremony is here at Waset instead.”
After a short time, Thut and the women resumed their thrones.
“Now he’ll receive the inheritance of Horus,” Senenmut said.
Hatshepsut anointed the new king once more with costly ointments while chantresses sang hymns to the god. Then a priest offered Thut a chunk of bread baked in the shape of the hieroglyph for “office,” which he ate.
Twenty priests moved to a small stone altar near the dais, some carrying containers of burning incense, others various types of food.
“The king will now make offerings to his ancestors.”
Thut descended the dais to stand beside the priests. In turn, each placed his offering on a fire that burned atop the altar. As the smoke rose, Thut spooned incense onto each offering, to make it even sweeter for the gods. Done, he reseated himself on his throne.
A priest dressed as the god Thoth moved to the foot of the dais, a sheet of papyrus in his hand.
“Now we shall learn the king’s five names,” Senenmut whispered.
The priest turned to the crowd. “I proclaim the king – Son of Re, the third Thutmose, Thoth is Born – to be the legitimate successor to Aakheperenre – life, health, prosperity – justified,” he cried in stentorian voice. “The king shall bear the following names.” He scanned the document. “His Horus name shall be ‘Strong Bull Arising in Waset.’ His Two Ladies name shall be ‘Enduring of Kingship Like Re in Heaven.’ His Horus of Fine Gold name shall be ‘Powerful of Strength, Holy of Diadems.’ And his prenomen, the name by which he shall be known as king of Upper and Lower Kemet, shall be Menkheperre – ‘The Being of Re is Established.’”
“Menkheperre – life, prosperity, health!” Hapuseneb cried.
“Life, prosperity, health!” all of us in the crowd thundered.
I thought Thut’s Horus name was particularly fitting.
A priestess dressed as the goddess Seshat came forward and, along with a priest, inscribed upon the branch of a sacred persea tree the beginning year of Thut’s rule.
“Oh happy day!” cried Hapuseneb, turning to face Thut. “Heaven and earth are in joy since you are the great lord of Kemet! Those who fled are come back to their cities; those who were hidden have emerged; those who were hungry, they are sated and content; those who were thirsty are drunken; those who were naked, they are clad in fine linen!”
Thut descended from the dais and moved into the center of the hall. A priest handed him a magnificent bow. Thut grasped it eagerly, touched his fingers to the bowstring, drew it back experimentally, smiled broadly. I knew Thut was a fine archer, far better than many who were much older. He took great pride in his ability to shoot. Under his tutelage even I had learned to shoot well, though with far less power than he. Nefer had refused to learn; at least there was one thing I was better at than her. Thut moved through the doorway in the eastern pylon to the center of the open courtyard beyond and we all followed after, encircling him. Then he fitted an arrow to the string and drew it back with ease and fired the arrow due north, all the way over Ipet–Isut’s outer wall. In rapid succession, he fired three more to the other cardinal points. Two disappeared on the far side of the outer walls of the temple precinct, one passed high over the three pylons, that shot drawing oohs and aahs from the crowd. Thut handed the bow to a priest. His eyes met mine and he smiled triumphantly and I smiled back.
Then chantresses handed Thut four white birds, one after another, and he released each to the winds.
“And now,” Hapuseneb announced, “we shall return to the per’aa for the king’s coronation banquet.” He hande
d Thut the crook and flail and placed Sekhemti on his head.
Thut stepped into his carrying chair and the priests raised it to their shoulders. I fell to my knees along with everyone else in the courtyard and bowed my head. The priests began moving west, towards the opening in the pylon. When I looked up, Thut was gazing backwards over his shoulder and our eyes met again and he smiled once more. I smiled back, but I sensed that something had changed. He was no longer the friend he had been my whole life, but my king. He held my fate in his hands now, and Nefer’s, and Hatshepsut’s, and everyone else’s in the whole land. I rose to my feet and took my place next to Nefer and Senenmut, behind Iset and Hatshepsut, ahead of the rest of the dignitaries.
We moved through the halls and pylons of Ipet–Isut. Everyone who had been waiting in the festival hall and outside the temple wall fell in behind us. We walked west on the processional way, past cheering crowds, towards the per’aa. As we neared it, Hatshepsut stepped from the processional way onto one of the small paths that wound through the garden. She pulled Senenmut and Nefer and me aside, then led us some distance north to a small grove of dom palms, out of the sight and hearing of those in the procession. She and Nefer seated themselves in the shade on a large stone in the midst of colorful flowers atop tall stems. Senenmut and I stood before them respectfully. He watched the distant procession attentively.
Once the tail end of the procession passed, Hatshepsut carefully scanned the garden in all directions. She addressed me and Senenmut. “Warn me if anyone approaches. Nefer and I must not be overheard.”
Senenmut nodded. “Yes, Majesty.” He moved a little away, as did I in a different direction, though still close enough to hear perfectly the conversation between Nefer and Hatshepsut.
“There’s something you need to know,” Hatshepsut told Nefer in a low voice. “I’ve been appointed regent to rule beside your half–brother until he’s of age. The highest civil officials and the Opener of the Gate of Heaven insisted on it. They’ve passed over Iset. They’ll tell her when she reaches the per’aa.”
I was surprised and relieved at the same time. If Iset wasn’t the regent, she couldn’t send Hatshepsut or Nefer or me away.
“Why didn’t they choose Iset, Mother?” Nefer asked.
“They fear what an inexperienced boy with unfettered power might do with that woman whispering in his ear.”
“Might do about what?”
“Enemy invasion. Problems with trade. Famine. Taxes. The growing power of the Amun priesthood. The details of running a land as vast as Kemet.” Hatshepsut threw back her shoulders. “If Iset had been named she would have used the power that comes with being regent to take revenge on those she felt had slighted her these past years – which in her mind is every high official in the land. With Thutmose so young, she could have ruled for a decade at least, and done much damage in that time to the whole land. That is why the land’s highest officials have no intention of letting her be regent.”
“Why you? Why not Vizier Aametshu?”
“Though few are aware, I’ve been quietly ruling Kemet on behalf of your father these past two years, Nefer, ever since his health began to fail,” Hatshepsut said. “The bureaucrats and priests know my capabilities. Besides, your grandfather thought me more fit to rule than any of his sons, including your father. It is an opinion many shared.”
“How will Iset react, do you think?”
“She’ll be furious. That’s why I’m telling you, Nefer. There’s been quite a power struggle between us since your father died. But I’ve gained the support of the Oracle of Amun and she hasn’t and that’s that. So now the bad blood between Iset and me will be considerably worse.”
“Senenmut says she hates you because she wanted to be Father’s Great Wife, since she’d given him Thut as an heir and you’d given him only me.”
“That’s part of it,” Hatshepsut said.
I had often noted how Hatshepsut and Iset barely tolerated each other, sometimes going months at a time without speaking. Seldom did they occupy the same room in the harem. I supposed that part of their dislike was due to jealousy; as Great Wife, Hatshepsut had traveled from per’aa to per’aa throughout Kemet with the king as he went about his business, while Iset remained at Waset. Only at banquets and religious festivals were they together, and even then Hatshepsut always took the place of honor. I had personally never witnessed Hatshepsut act in a mean–spirited way towards Iset; she was merely exercising the rights that came with her station.
“Iset also coveted my role as God’s Wife of Amun,” Hatshepsut said, “particularly the estates and riches and power that position brings. I, of course, had no intention of becoming a minor wife or giving up my sacred duties or wealth. I am, after all, the daughter and granddaughter of kings, and she is the daughter of commoners.”
“Is that why being regent is so important to you?”
“Preserving maat is part of our heritage – yours and mine,” Hatshepsut answered. “Have you forgotten what I’ve taught you about your ancestors – Tetisheri, Ahhotep, Ahmes–Nefertari? Tetisheri helped hold the kingdom together after her son, King Seqenenre Tao II, was executed by the Chiefs of the Foreign Lands. You’ve seen the pyramid–shaped cenotaph her grandson, King Ahmose, erected in her memory at Abdju because of what she did. And Seqenenre’s wife Ahhotep was regent for Ahmose, her son, and herself fought and defeated the wretched enemy. Do you remember the inscription on the stela at Ipet–Isut he raised for her?”
“Give your praise to the Lady of the Lands of the North, whose name is exalted in all foreign countries, to she who rules the multitudes, who looks after Kemet with wisdom, who took care of its army, who watched over the country and made the fugitives return and reunited the deserters, who appeased Kemet and subdued the rebels,” Nefer recited.
“Yes,” Hatshepsut nodded. “And then there was Ahmes–Nefertari, Ahmose’s Great Wife, the first God’s Wife of Amun. She was regent when her son Amenhotep was young, and helped him rule after his wife died. She traveled with both kings, helped them open quarries, helped in building projects, was active in religious ceremonies. She was deified after her death as Mistress of the Sky and Lady of the West. And don’t forget about me. I’m God’s Wife of Amun. As I said, I’ve ruled Kemet during your father’s illness.”
I saw several priests passing through the garden, heading in the direction of the per’aa, and so did Senenmut. He signaled to Hatshepsut. She fell silent until they were gone.
“The point is, Nefer,” Hatshepsut continued, “you must never let anyone put a limit on what you can do. I haven’t. That you are a woman is of no consequence. Ahmes–Nefertari did not spend her life hidden inside her husband’s harem; she became a celebrity. Her personality eclipsed her daughter–in–law Meritamen, who failed to provide him with a male heir. That was why Ahmose had to pick his successor. He chose a middle–aged general, my father, your grandfather, the first Thutmose.”
“So grandfather’s blood wasn’t pure?”
“Not when he was born. His father was a commoner and his mother, Seniseneb, was not royal either. But Thutmose married your grandmother Ahmose, his sister. So, since they were both royal, being the current king and current king’s wife, their daughter – me – is of pure blood.” Hatshepsut stood, faced Nefer. “You know my father was a warrior. He moved the southern boundary of Kemet past the Third Cataract and placed a border stela and took control of the African trade routes that converged there. He put a viceroy in charge of Kush and brought the Kushite kings’ sons to Kemet and raised them at court. He only ruled six years, but he made Kemet an unparalleled kingdom.”
“But my father was no warrior.”
“No, and his mother was a commoner, and so his claim to the throne was strengthened by marriage to me, his half–sister, who alone in the family had pure blood. We married when I was only twelve years old. And Kemet was fortunate that he married me. Your grandfather was a brilliant military leader, Nefer, but your father was always in poor he
alth. Few knew how much he let me do of the actual day–to–day governing of the Two Lands.”
“Is it true that Father was king only because his brothers died?”
“Yes. As you know, my sister Akhbetneferu died in infancy. Before he married Ahmose, my father was married to Mutnofret and they produced three sons, all half–brothers to me – Wadjmose, Amenose, and your father. Mutnofret died before your grandfather became king, and neither Wadjmose nor Amenose lived beyond childhood. But I’ll let you in on a secret, Nefer – your grandfather always favored me over my brothers. He wanted me to be his heir. He once told me that Amun himself had proclaimed me the future king when I was but a young girl.”
“A female king?”
“Yes.”
“Then why weren’t you put on the throne after grandfather died?” Nefer asked, skeptical.
“That would have been a very radical step when there was a viable male heir, my half–brother, though all the king’s advisors knew of Father’s preference,” Hatshepsut answered. “So, now that your father is dead, the key officials in the government – most of them appointed by your grandfather – made me regent, knowing my abilities, knowing that Kemet will be in good hands until your half–brother is prepared to rule on his own.”
“So you’ll help Thut rule for now, and once Thut and I are married and I’m his Great Wife I’ll help him. And then our son will be king after him.”
Hatshepsut nodded.
“That’s what I desire most, Mother, to be mother of a king myself. And to help my husband rule.”
Hatshepsut smiled at Nefer. “Be assured, Senenmut will continue to see to your education and prepare you to help Thutmose. I trust him above all others in Kemet.” She raised Nefer to her feet and hugged her close. “But be careful, Nefer. Without a doubt, when Iset learns I’m regent she’ll be apoplectic. I don’t think she’ll try to make an enemy of you – after all, your blood is pure, and so your marriage to Thutmose will legitimize his rule since his is not. But sometimes she lets her petty vindictiveness get in the way of reason. So you must be wary of her from now on, just in case. And pray to the gods she doesn’t try to poison Thutmose against you.”
Beauty of Re Page 3
