Queen of the Heavens Read online

  Ramesses had enjoyed playing senet, so I sent a board with silver and gold pieces so his spirit might continue playing the game in the afterworld.

  Sety also asked me to commission someone to make ushepties. These tiny figures of servants seemed still and lifeless on the earthly plain. When sealed inside the tomb, however, their essence would come to life in the realm inhabited by the ka. The ushepties would do Ramesses’ bidding, so he would not have to trouble himself with any form of labor.

  I asked the man reputed to be the finest wood sculptor in Thebes to come to the estate. His appearance surprised me, for he was ancient and stooped and had knuckles so swollen they locked his fingers in place. His face held the grimace of perpetual pain.

  “You are the renowned sculptor?” I asked.

  “Yes, My Lady,” he answered after he had bowed.

  “How do you practice your craft with hands such as yours?”

  A look of sadness crossed the old man’s face. “I no longer do, but I have four sons who learned from me. Their skills equal mine when they were at their best.”

  The sculptor’s woes distressed me. Without his knowing, I directed energy from my heart into his hands.

  “Very well,” I said. “I wish for your sons to create a usheptie for each day of the year of the finest wood and gilt to be entombed with Ramesses’ mummy. I’ll pay you well if they meet my expectations.”

  The old sculptor grinned. “My family has been crafting ushepties for royal tombs since the reign of the first Pharaoh Tuthmosis. You honor us by requesting we do the same for Ramesses.”

  “Bring the first ones here in three days so I may see if they are of sufficient quality.”

  “You will have them in two, My Lady.” The old man looked at his hands and wiggled his fingers. “This is strange. Much of the pain has left me. I feel as if I could carve some of the ushepties myself. Perhaps knowing my work would rest in the tomb of the beloved Ramesses has limbered my fingers.”

  I smiled. “Perhaps.”

  With much to do, the traditional seventy days between death and burial passed quickly. In the early morning six days before the entombment, Sety and I sat side by side in the courtyard of the Great Temple of Amun. A gold coffin, shaped like a man and holding the Pharaoh’s mummy, rested on a litter a few paces in front of us. The lid had been fashioned to look like Ramesses in life, wearing the nems and uraeus, right wrist atop left, holding the crook and flail crossed before his heart center.

  A drummer began beating a slow cadence, signaling twelve litter bearers in immaculate white kilts and copper bands around their powerful upper arms to come forward. Straining under the weight of the gold, they lifted the coffin to their shoulders and began walking in step toward the rear of the temple. Sety followed, leading a long line of priests in a somber procession to the sanctuary, where he and the High Priest would perform funeral rites.

  I remained seated. In front of me, and to my right, twenty of the most massive columns I had ever seen dwarfed the courtiers who stood underneath. Mammoth rectangular stones extended from capital to capital forming a roof. This was the beginning of the Hall of Columns Lord Harenhab had conceived and Ramesses had vowed to build. Many years remained before completion, but I could see even now the Hall would rival the Pyramids of Giza in grandeur.

  I chanted the sacred spells until the procession returned, then joined Sety as it continued to the river. The litter bearers placed the coffin under the wooden canopy of the small gilded funeral boat that had carried the mummy of Lord Harenhab from Memphis two years before. Ramesses would be entombed in the great valley directly across the Nile from Thebes, but his mummy first had to be taken to Abydos so funeral rites again could be performed, this time in the place where Isis resurrected Osiris.

  I followed Sety onto the Pharaoh’s great boat, to which the funeral boat was tethered, and stood on its deck for the first time. The huge, immaculate vessel was like a small palace. The officers were handsome to a man, and even the oarsmen held great dignity in their countenance.

  “You are impressed,” Sety noted as I looked around.

  “Yes, I am.”

  “You should be, but don’t feel humbled. The Great Royal Wife must never feel humbled.”

  “Why would I feel humbled?” I asked, raising my chin. “I am in my rightful place, with you, at the center of the world.”

  The Captain escorted Sety to the Pharaoh’s quarters in the middle of the boat, while his second in command ushered me to the smaller but still magnificent Queen’s cabin at the stern.

  The bed was made of the finest cedar, and covered with linen woven through with golden threads. A silver image of Hathor served as the handle of a brass mirror set on the dressing table. The mirror was hardly necessary, for the black veneer of the table was polished so thoroughly I could see my reflection in it. I picked up an alabaster bottle, took off the lid, and was greeted by a whiff of the sweetest jasmine I had ever smelled.

  I dabbed some drops on my forehead, and after resting for a while, went outside and looked upriver. A crewman attended a steering oar of the tethered funeral boat, while two palace guardsmen, one at the head and the other at the feet of the gold coffin, stood at attention with spears pointing skyward. A long line of palace boats carrying Viziers, provincial Governors and other dignitaries followed. I again shed tears for Ramesses. Many more flowed on shore, for the banks of the Nile were lined with people, bowed down and wailing, as they bid farewell to their Pharaoh.

  We arrived in Abydos two days later at dusk, but waited until morning to debark. With Ramesses’ coffin again atop the litter bearer’s shoulders, the procession made its way to the temple dedicated to Osiris.

  I expected to enter through a gate in a huge pylon, flanked by obelisks or giant statues, but was appalled by what I encountered. There were neither obelisks nor statues, and the temple was so small it could barely contain the two-hundred people gathered for the ritual. The paintings on the walls and columns had faded, and a far wall was crumbling. I tried to chant the sacred spells, but the temple’s appearance so disturbed me my effort lacked power and conviction.

  My husband shared my sentiments. I stood with him at the river after the ceremony had been completed.

  “The temple hardly seems adequate to honor Osiris, or a deceased Pharaoh,” Sety said to the High Priest. “When I was here with the mummy of Lord Harenhab, I urged my father to attend to this temple, but he would not. He wanted first to build the Hall of Columns at the Great Temple of Amun.”

  “My apologies for the conditions, but please don’t blame my fellow priests or me. We do our best, but so much wealth goes to the temples of Thebes, there is little left for us. Unless a Pharaoh dies, we are forgotten. Any assistance you can give us would be appreciated greatly.”

  “I will do more than give you assistance. I will give you a new temple.” Sety spoke in a booming voice so all the priests and dignitaries could hear. “I have wanted to build a great temple to Osiris for some time. I proclaim now that a new temple to him will be erected in Abydos as magnificent as any ever built. Osiris will have a temple worthy of his glory.”

  The crowd murmured its approval.

  “I will send architects so they can find a suitable location and begin work on a design,” Sety said to the High Priest. “You are an old man and will not live to see the temple completed. I might not, either, but I assure you, thousands of years from now Egyptians will marvel at its majesty.”

  My husband’s words struck me like a blow from a club. On the day we first met, years ago at the palace in Memphis, Sety declared he would dedicate a temple to Osiris, but he promised to build it for me as a gift in which Isis could perform her healing miracles. In his announcement to the crowd, he mentioned neither Isis nor me.

  I shook with anger as I followed Sety across the plank to the boat, and for a moment feared I might fall into the river. After stepping on board, I held onto a railing to steady myself.

  “Sety,” I snapped.


  “What, Tuya?”

  As I was about to lash out at my husband for his betrayal, I felt a tingling between my eyebrows. The color of indigo flooded my consciousness and I could not speak. Soon, the indigo began to dissolve, and with it my anger. A gentle breeze blew against my face and I saw things with great clarity, the way Thoth might see them.

  In my rage, I had thought nothing of Osiris, or of Sety’s willingness to build a great temple for the ages. I had thought only of myself.

  “How dare I offend Osiris with my covetousness and greed?” I whispered.

  “What did you say?” Sety asked.

  “You do Osiris a great honor by building him a splendid new temple,” I answered in a louder voice.

  Sety gave me a puzzled look. “Yes, Tuya. I know I do.”

  My husband went to his cabin and I to mine. I sat down on the edge of my bed and closed my eyes.

  I must rid myself of my human failings and not covet or desire. In whatever way I can, I must help make this temple magnificent so the presence of my beloved Osiris will manifest powerfully in the earthly realm.

  With this thought, I felt lighter.

  I went to bed early and slept contentedly, knowing my heart weighed less than Maat’s feather.

  XXVII

  With the sun at its zenith, the flotilla pulled into a quay on the river’s west bank, across from the great temples to Amun in Thebes. Soon after, Sety summoned me to his quarters for a meal.

  “I’m honored you asked me to dine with you,” I said, after entering Sety’s cabin, which was twice as large and even more lavish than mine.

  “We have things to discuss,” my husband replied. “You have important duties to perform during the funeral rites, and I want to make certain you know what is expected of you.”

  I sat across from my husband at a cedar table inlaid with turquoise and ivory. I smiled at him. “I can assure you, Sety, I will always carry out my responsibilities with the grace and dignity expected of a Queen.”

  “I have no doubt you will, Tuya. I would never fault you for your demeanor or sense of propriety. I fault you only for deceiving me about your power when I took you as my wife.”

  Servants brought wine in silver chalices and lamb stew served in marble bowls. I waited until they departed before speaking. “I deceived no one. Isis’ power is with me, and soon Horus’ power will be with you. I will pray that you use it wisely.”

  Sety didn’t reply, so the two of us sat silently, consuming a meal made quite delicious by hot spices that excited the tongue. I regretted the company was not as stimulating as the food. My husband broke the silence after we had nearly finished eating.

  “Tomorrow you will ride with me by chariot to a place not far from the entrance of the great valley where the royal mummies are entombed. The litter bearers are taking my father’s mummy there now. I will lead a procession of priests and high officials ahead of the coffin. You will lead the women walking behind.”

  “You have chosen me to represent Isis, as Ramesses’ mummy represents Osiris,” I noted.

  “Yes.”

  “I’m honored.”

  “It’s not only an honor, it’s your duty since Ramesses’ wives are dead. Some of the women will be my aunts and cousins and the wives of high officials, but others will be professional mourners hired from the villages. They will wail, rent their garments and pour dust over themselves. I don’t expect you to carry on this way, but I do expect appropriate grief.”

  I fumed at Sety’s remark, but composed myself before speaking. “I loved Ramesses, too. My tears will be genuine.”

  Sety bit his tongue. “I’m sorry,” he said after a moment’s pause. “I chose my words poorly. I know you loved Ramesses.”

  “I accept your apology. Sometimes grief causes us to speak words we would not utter under other circumstances.”

  “Fatigue as well. I’m tired, Tuya, and I must sleep.”

  Sety always had considerable stamina and the sun had not yet set, so it surprised me that he felt tired so early. I rose to leave.

  “You are wise to rest,” I told him. “These days place great strain on you… and on me.”

  The next morning, soon after sunrise, Sety and I arrived at the gathering place outside the valley. Ramesses’ gold coffin lay on a sledge drawn by six oxen. A gilded wooden box holding four alabaster jars, containing Ramesses’ liver, stomach, lungs and entrails, rested on a litter in front of it.

  The embalmers also had removed Ramesses’ brain, as they did from all corpses, but no doubt discarded it, for the brain is of no value. The heart, the center of thought, wisdom and feeling, remained inside the mummy, however, so its essence could be weighed against Maat’s feather.

  To the cadence of a drum, the procession began moving across the parched land. I cried profusely, as did the women behind me. As Sety predicted, the professional mourners created quite a spectacle with their frenzied wails.

  Just before the valley entrance, fifty muu dancers appeared, wearing kilts, fine jewelry, and tall crowns made of reeds. These men whooped and shouted as they jumped up and down and snapped their fingers in a festive performance, reminding mourners that joy awaits the spirits of those who pass The Judgment.

  The procession entered the arid valley, where not even a blade of grass could grow. After a short while, most of the mourners turned back. Vast wealth would be buried with the Pharaoh, and it would not have been wise to allow all these people to see the location of the tomb. By the time we reached it, only the priests, the highest officials, a few trusted servants, and Ramesses’ closest relatives remained.

  The priests began chanting in the ancient tongue. Servants unhitched the oxen from the sledge and led all but one bull ox away. Four muscular priests slid the coffin off the sledge and tilted it onto its feet so it stood upright. Another came forward with a great bronze ax, and with mighty blows struck the ox on its neck.

  The animal’s legs shook. It collapsed on its knees, then fell dead on its side, soaking the earth with blood. The priest removed the animal’s heart with a long knife, and with another blow of the ax cut off a foreleg. He placed these on gold trays, which he laid before Ramesses’ coffin.

  A priest wearing a mask of the jackal-headed Anubis and the Sem Priest, wearing a leopard skin cloak, waved incense around the coffin, sprinkled it with water and anointed it with oils. The Sem Priest took from the top of his kilt a bronze adze, used to fashion wood, and touched it to the mouth of Ramesses’ image on the coffin lid.

  “With this instrument, the divine Ptah parts the mouth of Ramesses as he parted the mouths of the gods at the creation of the Cosmos,” the Sem Priest said.

  He touched the eyes, ears and nose with the adze. “Through Thoth’s power, Ramesses’ senses awaken so his ka may enjoy the offerings made to him from this world, and partake in the joys and pleasures of the afterworld.”

  Three times more the Sem Priest touched Ramesses’ image and repeated these words as the other priests continued to chant.

  A wooden coffin in the shape of a man, covered in gilt and inlaid with turquoise and lapis, lay open on the ground nearby. A similar but larger coffin rested beside it on a litter.

  With great effort, priests lowered the gold coffin into the smaller of the wooden ones, then placed these in the larger coffin. Ramesses’ mummy now nested inside three sheaths. Holding a torch in front of him, the Sem Priest walked into the tomb. Twelve other priests followed, carrying the Pharaoh’s coffins on their shoulders, while four more bore the jars containing Ramesses’ viscera. After some time, the High Priest, also carrying a torch, led Sety and me into Ramesses’ house of eternity.

  I was saddened and disappointed as I walked down the passageway. The walls were bare, for the artists did not have enough time to decorate them, but as I descended the steps to the burial chamber I beheld a wondrous sight.

  These walls had been covered with exquisite portrayals of Ramesses and the gods. Gold and silver jewelry glistened in the flickerin
g torch and candlelight. A gilded, crescent-shaped bark, six paces long and with a canopy, stood near a wall. As a sliver of the moon crosses the sky, so too would this bark, carrying the Pharaoh’s soul to the beyond.

  Ramesses’ war chariot had been placed in a corner, his mail draped over it. A bow and quiver rested against a wheel. The quiver held arrows, not of wood, but of gold.

  Bejeweled daggers and swords, ivory throwing sticks, statues of gods made from onyx and alabaster, oils, exquisite clothing, ushepties, furniture of the finest wood. All had been packed tightly into the tomb for the enjoyment of Ramesses’ ka.

  A giant red granite sarcophagus, its lid half open, rested in the center of the treasure. Since Ramesses’ coffins were nowhere to be seen, I knew his mummy lay inside.

  The High Priest led his colleagues in chanting the sacred spells that guide the soul through the perils of the duat. Since I knew these spells, I closed my eyes and joined in their recitation.

  As I chanted and inhaled the burning frankincense, and the aroma of the many different flowers that had been placed in the tomb, my consciousness touched the beyond. My skin tingled as it sensed power emanating from the wall paintings, as their essences danced and moved. I felt, too, the presence of Ramesses’ ka, for the ritual performed by the Sem Priest had awakened it. Joy flooded into my heart, and I knew it was the joy felt by Ramesses as he experienced existence free from the confines of his body and the limitations of the earthly realm.

  I opened my eyes after the chanting had ended, when I heard the sound of stone against stone. Six priests were sliding shut the lid of the sarcophagus, sealing Ramesses’ mummy inside forever. The tomb soon would be sealed as well. Never again would human eyes feast upon the treasure for the ages I now beheld.

  Sety and I were the first to emerge into the sunlight. I squinted as I looked up the valley at a mountain shaped like a pyramid. In ancient times, the mummies of Pharaohs were protected by pyramids built with human hands. Now, a pyramid fashioned by the divine stood watch over them.