Queen of the Heavens Page 9

  Father, standing before Ramesses, held up the box he was carrying that contained the gold: “Perhaps you and I can finish our transaction. I have the final part of the dowry for you to look at.”

  “I’m certain all is in order,” Ramesses said as he signaled the servant who had brought Sety’s gift. “Give the box to him, and Ruia, give him Tuya’s old necklace as well. It will be safe. Now, please, join me for refreshments.”

  Ramesses led Mother and Father toward the far side of the garden. Sety took my hand and led me to a table and stools nearby.

  “We await the Pharaoh,” he said. “Harenhab will be passing by here soon. We’ll join the procession to the Great Temple of Amun. From there we’ll go to the palace and a feast.”

  “I’m honored to have been invited.”

  “You’ll receive many such honors now that you’re my wife, but frankly, I’d rather forgo the celebration and make love with you right now,” he said as we sat down.

  With this remark, I realized time had not tempered Sety’s brashness. This concerned yet excited me. I also admitted to myself that while part of me feared having my first passionate encounter, another part longed for the lovemaking that would consummate my marriage. This would have to wait, of course. When invited by the Pharaoh to the Great Temple of Amun and then to a feast, even passion had to be postponed.

  A young servant girl placed on the table a tray of sweets and two chalices of wine.

  “Drink and eat, Tuya. For the moment we can at least enjoy these pleasures of the senses. We’ll enjoy others later.”

  “I’ve learned quickly, my husband, that you’re not afraid to speak your mind,” I said with a hint of sternness in my voice.

  Sety laughed. “Why shouldn’t I say what I think? Audacity, Tuya. Audacity. Always be audacious and the world will be yours.”

  “Audacity must be tempered with humility,” I cautioned.

  “Why?”

  “Because the gods demand it. The world will be worth nothing to you if it means failing Osiris’ Judgment and sacrificing your soul.”

  “The Neters will support me in whatever I do. For what other reason would Isis have brought you to me than to help me to achieve great things?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Perhaps there’s another reason. I don’t question Isis. I follow her.”

  Sety took some wine and food, as did I.

  “Isis expects much from our marriage. I’m certain of that,” he continued. “Ramesses is Harenhab’s favorite. If I outlive my father, and I most certainly will, I’ll be Pharaoh someday, the greatest Egypt has ever known. The gods have ordained it. I’ll need a son to carry on my work. It is your duty to provide me with one, but not just any son. He must be fit and intelligent, much more so than other boys. He must grow up being capable of ruling our land.”

  I looked directly at Sety and spoke slowly and deliberately: “You will have what you desire, my husband. I can assure you of that.”

  The moment I finished speaking, trumpets sounded in the distance as if to seal my promise.

  “The Pharaoh approaches,” Sety declared. He escorted me into a chariot, then climbed in himself and took the reins. Father drove another chariot with Mother beside him. Ramesses, alone in a third, led us to the entrance of his estate.

  Lord Harenhab drew near, escorted by a host of trumpeters, drummers and spear carrying soldiers all marching in perfect step. Twelve powerfully built men in loin cloths, dust clinging to their sweating skins, carried the Pharaoh on a litter with lions carved into its sides.

  Isis. What am I doing here? I thought, overwhelmed by the spectacle. A voice inside me answered: “You are performing your role in the Divine Pageant, Tuya. You’re exactly where you belong.”

  After the Pharaoh’s entourage passed, we joined the procession. Periodically, the trumpeters announced the Pharaoh’s approach with blares of their instruments. As we traveled through the streets of Thebes, goats, chickens and dogs scurried away as the people cleared a path and bowed to the god-man who ruled them.

  Perhaps two hundred other dignitaries gathered behind us in chariots or on foot as we neared the temple, close to where the palace boat was moored. Addaya, standing on the deck of his vessel, smiled and nodded as I passed, and I returned the gestures.

  The procession entered the long Avenue of Sphinxes that led to the main entranceway of the Great Temple of Amun. As we approached, the temple seemed to grow in size and splendor and I marveled that such a magnificent structure could be crafted by human hands.

  “I don’t believe what I am seeing,” I exclaimed to Sety.

  “This is Thebes, Tuya, with the grandest sights in all the world,” he said.

  Sety halted the chariot in front of the entranceway and a groom took the reins. My husband and I and the rest of Harenhab’s minions followed the Pharaoh on foot through the massive gate. As I gazed out at the colorfully painted temple and its towering columns and majestic statuary I felt insignificant, like an ant next to a lion. The splendor of the holy place reflected the grandeur of the gods and within it I could feel the power of their presence.

  The soldiers and musicians split ranks and took positions on each side of the temple courtyard. At its middle, the litter bearers gently lowered the Pharaoh to the ground.

  The aging ruler, resplendent in his linen kilt and cloak, wore the ceremonial false beard of the Pharaoh and the red and white double crown of Upper and Lower Egypt. In his right hand Harenhab held a flail, symbol of the ruler’s might and authority to mete out punishment. In his left hand he held a small shepherd’s crook, warning him that authority must be tempered by compassion. The divine in human form carried the crook and flail crossed before his heart center in the middle of his chest.

  As Harenhab stood up, the twenty-one priests who greeted him dropped to their knees and lowered their heads as the rest of us bowed from the waist.

  “Rise,” Harenhab said after a stately pause.

  The priests wore simple white kilts and were bare-chested, save for the High Priest, who wore a longer kilt and cloak. Several held burners containing incense made from spikenard. The odor, sweet yet pungent, enveloped us all.

  “It is my honor to greet the Pharaoh, the manifestation of Horus, son of Isis and Osiris, who walks the world as a god,” the High Priest said.

  “It is my honor to be in the presence of Amun and his servants,” Harenhab replied. “You will join me as we honor Amun and his family.”

  Harenhab, with crook and flail still crossed before him, strode slowly and deliberately through the open plaza toward the columned passageway that led to the sanctuary at the temple’s rear. The High Priest followed by a respectful three steps and the other celebrants followed him, two abreast. Entry into the sanctuary, the holiest part of the temple, was prohibited for all except the Pharaoh and the High Priest.

  I watched in wonderment, but to my surprise felt bitterness. I should be allowed to enter the holy of holies, I thought. Horus may be with the Pharaoh, but does not Isis dwell within me?

  The bitterness soon subsided. How could I be bitter in the presence of the gods, whose essence permeated every stone in the magnificent temple in which I found myself?

  If I cannot enter the sanctuary then my son will enter it, and invoke the power of Amun for the benefit of all whom he rules, I said to myself, joyful at the thought.

  The crowd sat down on the temple’s sandstone floor. A hundred priests, fifty on each side of the courtyard, sat cross-legged with their backs as straight as spears. The priests were silent for a few moments, then began to chant in a tongue as old as time itself known only to them. It didn’t matter that the rest of us couldn’t understand what the priests were saying. The power of the chants rested not in their meaning but in their sounds and vibrations, which matched those of the unseen worlds and brought into the material plane the power of the gods.

  Against a temple wall stood a granite statue of Sekhmet, somewhat larger than a human. She was seated on a thr
one and in her left hand held an ankh, the symbol of life.

  I closed my eyes. Clouds of brilliant colors floated through my consciousness, pierced from time to time by streaks of light that looked like shooting stars. Tiny squares and triangles, strung together like a necklace, appeared then vanished before me. The sounds of the chants blended into silence and I sat in a perfect stillness, sensing that time had stopped.

  Something caused me to open my eyes. The statue of Sekhmet was in its same place, but the lion-headed goddess had risen from her chair and with the ankh still in hand held her arms above her head. She was dancing with a gracefulness reserved for the gods.

  Thebes indeed is a special place, I thought, then closed my eyes once more.

  When I opened them for a second time, Lord Harenhab and the priests were retracing their steps through the courtyard. Sekhmet was seated, her essence again motionless in the stone. The crowd rose and bowed.

  “You may look upon your Pharaoh,” the High Priest said.

  After a few moments, Harenhab proclaimed: “I have thanked Amun for the blessings he has bestowed upon this kingdom and upon me. I have thanked him for my long life and long reign, and for the abundance of food, water, trees and animals that make our land a paradise. You should also express gratitude to Amun for our country’s bounty, and in your prayers ask that our great land be blessed in the years to come by Pharaohs who will act with strength and compassion, firmness and wisdom. I am growing old, and the future of Egypt rests with the young.”

  Harenhab handed the crook and flail to a priest and, to my surprise, started walking toward me. I bowed my head.

  “Are you Tuya?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I answered.

  “Why do you stare at my feet?”

  I gazed up at a man whose creased face expressed great wisdom, and as I looked into his eyes I saw a soul that had walked the Earth many times before. Around his neck, the Pharaoh wore an amulet of Sekhmet made from gold and mounted on lapis lazuli. Unlike other amulets of the goddess I had seen, this one had not arms but outstretched wings.

  “Ramesses speaks highly of you,” Harenhab said.

  “He is generous with his praise,” I responded.

  “Your husband should be just as generous. Ramesses has chosen well for you, Sety.”

  “I’m very pleased, My Lord. Tuya is quite beautiful.”

  “I see that, but more. A light shines within her. Appreciate her for this. I’ve asked Amun, his consort Mut and their issue Khonsu to bless this union. Do the two of you pledge devotion to each other in this world and the next?”

  “Yes,” Sety said after a moment of hesitation.

  “Yes, of course,” I answered.

  Harenhab placed his hands on the tops of our heads. “Then I, too, bless this union. Treat her well Sety, lest you offend the gods.”

  The Pharaoh sat down in a gilded chair near the statue of Sekhmet, a fitting location since she protected the Pharaoh above all others. “You may proceed,” he said to the High Priest.

  A young girl brought garlands of chrysanthemums. First, the High Priest put a garland around Sety’s neck, then mine. A young boy handed him a bowl of water scented with the passionate fragrance of lotus. He dipped his fingers into it seven times, sprinkling Sety and me after each time.

  What is going on? I asked myself. This doesn’t happen to anyone. A blessing of my marriage by the Pharaoh. Sanctification by the High Priest. I thought I would move into Sety’s home with little fuss and thus become his wife, but instead I find myself at the center of attention in the grandest temple in the world. What have I done to deserve such an honor?

  The High Priest began to chant, again in the ancient tongue. The vibrations opened the energy vortex between my eyebrows and I began to feel bliss. He stopped abruptly after a short while and stood silently with eyes closed.

  “Bring on the dancers and musicians,” he finally said.

  At his command, perhaps a hundred women of the khenerit, many as graceful and beautiful as Maya, emerged from anterooms and from behind the temple’s columns and began dancing in a circle around the crowd. Some kept rhythm with sistra and tambourines. Others played lutes, harps and flutes. A few, the most shapely and sensuous, twirled pure white veils above their heads. As the dancing increased in speed and frenzy, bliss and joy carried all present toward the realm of the divine.

  Harenhab signaled his soldiers to form ranks and his bearers to bring his litter. Soon the Pharaoh and his entourage were heading through the gate, with the temple musicians and dancers following, performing as they went. Those of us with chariots returned to them and the rest of the crowd came on foot, dancing to the music as the grand procession made its way through the streets of Thebes and up the road to the Pharaoh’s palace.

  Eventually those in the khenerit dropped away, but the rest continued onward. All had been invited to celebrate Lord Harenhab’s anniversary and, we soon would discover, much more.

  XII

  The procession entered the royal grounds and passed by magnificent whitewashed villas, stately meeting halls, lotus ponds and flower gardens whose beauty was matched by a fragrance fit for the gods.

  “This palace is as grand as the one in Memphis,” I said to my husband, whose eyes were fixed forward as he kept the chariot on a sandstone path.

  “Why would it not be?” Sety replied. “The palace belongs to the Pharaoh. He demands perfection wherever he goes.”

  The procession stopped at a grassy court surrounded by myrtle, date palms, ferns and trellised grapevines. Small tables and stools had been arranged for the guests, though many chose to sit on cloths spread beneath the trees. An officer of the Royal Guard directed Ramesses and our small entourage to a spot protected from the sun by a linen canopy where a few elaborate tables and chairs had been placed.

  “Please make yourselves comfortable. Lord Harenhab will join you later,” the officer told us. Mother and Father smiled at each other. I could tell by their expressions they were delighted to be seated so near to the Pharaoh, and I had to admit that so was I.

  Musicians mingled among the guests. A spindly juggler kept six wooden balls in the air at one time. A contortionist twisted her body into positions as fascinating as they were grotesque. Men and women acrobats, naked except for the slimmest of coverings around their waists, flung themselves through the air in feats of flexibility far beyond the capabilities of most mortals.

  One of the acrobats flipped backwards three times and came to rest in front of us. “Can you do that?” I blithely asked my husband.

  Sety grinned. “My physical skills involve shooting an arrow and wielding a sword. I’ll leave the entertaining to others.”

  Young and beautiful women servants served beer, wine, fruits and pastries. Others affixed ox-tallow cones with the scent of lotus to the heads of guests, including Sety’s and mine. One of the servants sprinkled water scented with jasmine throughout the crowd, masking the odor of meat cooking in open pits nearby.

  Sety and I barely had time to sip some wine and exchange a flirtatious glance before another officer of the Royal Guard approached.

  “The Pharaoh summons you, My Lady.”

  “The Pharaoh? Why does he want to see me?”

  “He did not say. He asked only that I bring you to him.”

  “Will you come with me?” I inquired of Sety.

  “The Pharaoh wishes to see you alone,” the officer said.

  “What should I do?” I asked my husband. “I’m frightened to meet the Pharaoh by myself.”

  An annoyed expression crossed Sety’s face. “I should be with you.”

  Ramesses, sitting nearby, overheard the conversation. “Lord Harenhab isn’t a demon,” he said. “You’re now part of the royal court, Tuya. He already knows Sety, and I’m sure he just wants to get to know you better. Now go with the guard. You mustn’t keep the Pharaoh waiting.”

  I followed the officer down a tree-lined path, across a stone bridge spanning a dry moat and throu
gh the towering wooden doors of the royal dwelling, shaking with apprehension all the way. A long colonnade led to a parlor with a white tile floor. A statue of the falcon-headed Horus, dressed in a linen kilt and gold and silver jewelry, stood next to a large chair inlaid with turquoise and garnet. I thought the furnishings of the palace boat were magnificent, but they couldn’t compare in craftsmanship to the wall hangings, furniture and statuary of the Pharaoh’s abode.

  “My Lord, I have brought Tuya,” the officer announced. I bowed my head as the Pharaoh entered the parlor from an adjoining room.

  “You may leave us,” he said to the officer.

  I looked up as Harenhab took his seat in the great chair. The Pharaoh had removed his ceremonial beard and replaced the cumbersome double crown with a nems, a blue and white striped linen head covering that dropped behind his ears to his shoulders. A uraeus held the nems in place. The cobra, at the front of the golden headpiece, peered out from the energy vortex between the Pharaoh’s eyebrows.

  “Forgive me for taking you away from the festivities, but I wanted to chat with you alone for a while,” Harenhab said. “Sit down.”

  I did so, on an impeccably polished stool with a seat covered in leather. I placed my hands on my knees and noticed my shaking had stopped. The Pharaoh brought with him a tranquil presence, not unlike a gentle breeze, and to my surprise I found myself quite composed sitting before him.

  “I congratulate you on your marriage to Sety.”

  “Thank you, My Lord. Your blessing at the temple was quite unexpected.”

  “Why shouldn’t your marriage be blessed by me? I’ve come to greatly rely upon Ramesses and Sety, and I’d like to be able to do so with you.”

  “My Lord, of course you can. I would do anything for you.”

  “Then bear a son and bring him up well. Egypt will need strong and dedicated men if it is to regain its lost glory. From his father and grandfather he will learn the arts of war and statecraft, but from you he must learn how to love.”

  For the third time that day I’d been told to bear a son, first by Ramesses, then by Sety and now by Harenhab. I knew what was expected of me, and was honored to do it, but frustration grew inside me because I was being told what to do by three powerful men who seemed to believe bearing and rearing children was my sole duty in life.