The Double Crown: Secret Writings of the Female Pharaoh (24 page)

“Well, Dhutmose,” I said, after routine matters had been disposed of. “What else can you tell me of note?”

He took a date in his fat, beringed fingers and chewed it thoroughly. I noticed that he winced slightly and thought to myself that he too seems to have trouble with his teeth. “An excellent harvest may be expected,” he said. This was good news, which I had already heard from my network of tax collectors who checked on agricultural production across the Black Land on behalf of the Pharaoh.

“Hapi has been bountiful,” I agreed. During the past flood season the Nile did indeed rise to just the right extent.

Dhutmose proceeded to report further on a variety of administrative matters. There were no problems of note, and furthermore they were introducing a new device called a shaduf that would help the farmers irrigate more fields, he told me. It would increase yields.

“Pharaoh is pleased,” I said. “Well, if that is all our business, we have time for a game of senet before our consultations with the Treasurer, have we not?”

“Yes, Majesty,” said Dhutmose, whose understanding is as sharp as his body is fat and who likes to match his wits with mine. I clapped my hands and ordered the senet box to be brought and set up on a low table that has the shape of a slave woman crouching beneath a slab of inlaid and polished wood. We set up the pieces and threw the sticks to determine who would move first. He had the better of me.

For a while we concentrated in silence, taking turns to move. I usually won the race to clear all my pieces off the board, but he was a shrewd player himself. His small black eyes, deep in creases of fat, scanned the status of the pieces. Then he murmured: “The Great Commander has taken the road to the South, we are told. A punitive expedition against the Land of Kush?” He moved.

“A rebellion smouldering at the primary fort,” I told him. I countered his move.

“Ah. The Commander is a man of great courage in battle, of course.”

“Yes,” I said shortly.

“His reputation is known to all.” The sly black eyes peered at me and then slid away. “I have a nephew, a division commander in the army, who assures me that it is well deserved. One hears that he is fearless when driving his chariot. Too fearless, perhaps. Accidents happen so quickly.”

I looked at him sharply. Dhutmose was boxing me onto a danger square. He removed a piece from the board without meeting my eyes.

“An affrighted horse, a loose wheel,” he suggested, silkily. “A fall in the desert, a head injury …”

I shuddered, remembering the death of my brother Amenmose, all those years ago. “The Commander has taken spills,” I said, “and survived them.” I managed to move onto a safe space.

“Ah, yes. And he has killed more than a few lions too, one hears.”

“Yes,” I snapped. “He is an able hunter.” I removed a piece also.

“Yet nobody is completely invincible,” said Dhutmose, making a crafty move. “If, for example, an asp were to slither into his tent one night …”

“That would be fatal,” I agreed. There is no known cure for the bite of an asp. I removed another piece. Looked carefully at the board, planning my next move. I have been tempted, I admit, to have Thutmose permanently removed. But given the support he enjoys, it would probably not be politic. Also I do not know who might then succeed to the throne of the Two Lands when at last I undertake the journey into the Afterlife. I have always felt so full of vigour that the matter did not concern me much, but this season of seed when the crops are maturing under the winter sun has been a tiring one and I must consider it.

“One understands that General Khani has the support of the army,” observed Dhutmose. “A man of great ability, and devoted to Your Majesty.”

“But still a Nubian,” I said, blocking his next move. “There is a limit to the level to which he can progress. I do not think, for instance, that Khemet is ready for a black Pharaoh just yet.”

“Perish the thought,” said Dhutmose. “Your Majesty is yet vigorous. Your Majesty will doubtless reign yet for many risings of the Nile.”

Long enough, I thought, for another division commander besides Khani to rise through the ranks. When there was none of the royal house left to follow a Pharaoh it has been known for the Commander of the Army to take the Double Throne. Dhutmose’s nephew might be such a man. Or was he merely angling to have the Pharaoh deeply in his debt? I stared at the board.

For a while the game proceeded in silence. I could be rid of him, I thought; freed for ever of the wolf cub from Memphis. I need only nod. It would not even be necessary to speak the words. Dhutmose glanced up and his black stare reminded me, for a breathless moment, of the hooded cobra whose head I had grasped on the day of my coronation.

Then I made my final move. His eyes dropped to the game. I said, firmly: “I have every confidence that the Great Commander will return in good health. There is no reason to believe that it will be otherwise.”

“Of course not,” agreed Dhutmose smoothly. I had wiped the board. “Majesty has won,” he conceded.

I had indeed.

“Majesty will live for ever,” he said. The prize, in a game of senet, is eternal life.

“I will,” I said. I felt assured that my heart was light. It would not weigh heavily against the feather of Ma’at upon the scales of justice in the Netherworld. The thought of that judgement has been much in my mind of late. I leaned back and clapped my hands to order more wine. Bastet jumped onto my lap and settled down, purring. I stroked her, feeling well content. She licked my hand affectionately.

Dhutmose has his uses, but he must be kept in check. He knows that I set men to watch him, but he is never sure exactly who they are, so that he cannot subvert them. As to his implied offer … a debt of such magnitude coupled with such secret knowledge would give him power over me that I can never allow.

I sat stroking Bastet after Dhutmose had taken his leave, remembering how I had considered every move to establish my majesty. Two methods have served me well: controlling and using powerful men; and propaganda statements made in living stone.

From the beginning of my reign, I have taken care always to counterbalance the power of one man with authority granted to other men so that no-one could ever overshadow the Pharaoh. I alone would wield supreme command. Dhutmose as Vizier of the North has been one counterbalance to my Vizier of the South over the years, but I soon realised that I also needed someone nearer to the throne, both physically and in spirit, to contend effectively with Hapuseneb.

I searched the ranks of my advisers and officials for one who had sufficient character, and I found the very man I needed in a person who until then had not had much authority: Senenmut. Able tutor of the little princess Neferure. Reliable steward of my own and my daughter’s property. If he was indeed the man I judged him to be, he would stand up to Hapuseneb. Yes, I thought, Senenmut would be advanced. My Grand Vizier would be surprised. Not pleasantly.

To celebrate my coronation I ordered two statues of myself to be hewn from pink granite, far greater than life-size, showing my majesty wearing the cloth nemset crown, to be installed at the entrance to the administrative palace on the bank of the Nile in Thebes. I instructed the artist to depart from the usual way of depicting a woman, standing with her feet together, but rather to sculpt me with one foot forward like a man. The male attitude should, I thought, prepare visiting diplomats and ambassadors for an encounter with a woman who is also a King.

In addition, I ordered enormous obelisks to be quarried at Aswan before I was crowned so that they might be ready to be floated down from Aswan on the flood soon after the ceremony. They would be placed at the eastern end of the temple of Amen-Ra at Karnak, where the coronation ceremonies take place, and I would dedicate them to the God who had begotten me. The great architect Ineni, who had overseen such undertakings for my royal father Thutmose the First, may he live, had recently died. So I gave Senenmut the task of ordering, transporting and installing the commemorative obelisks. After all, he had been taught by Ineni, had he not? I would see what he could do.

Hapuseneb had of course assumed that he would be given this task and he was much displeased; more so when, as I had expected, Senenmut carried out the task with remarkable efficiency.

Great was the rejoicing in Thebes when the obelisks were brought on river barges, conveyed to the temple on sledges and installed
.
I had ordered both obelisks to be clad in gold entirely, not merely the tips, and I had them inscribed with the words of Amen, describing me as his beloved daughter Ma’atkare, and confirming that the God, as my loving father, had ordained me King.

The two colossal obelisks sparkled and shimmered in the brilliant sunlight. I ordered a feast, providing bread and beer for all my people, and a bull was ritually slaughtered. Senenmut was in his element that day and partook in the festivities with great delight. He was then in the prime of his life, having seen twenty-six risings of the Nile: a tall man, well built and charged with energy. He had a natural authority and gift of command that men older and more senior than he might well have wished to possess. He was delighted to have carried out his task successfully, and I was pleased with him.

Music and dancing acclaimed the new Pharaoh in the streets and marketplaces. Joyous hymns resounded in the temples; it was clear that the gods were satisfied. Khemet was safe.

Soon after my coronation, I called Hapuseneb and Senenmut to the small audience chamber. Hapuseneb, assured of his position as Grand Vizier of the South and Chief Priest of Amen, arrived first, impeccable in his white tunic, his coppery skin entirely hairless as a priest’s must be. Senenmut reported out of breath with dusty sandals, though his hands were clean. I kept them both standing.

“Hapuseneb,” I said, “you worked with Ineni on my late father the Pharaoh’s tomb, may they both live, not so?”

“Yes, Majesty.” He moved a little aside from the perspiring Senenmut.

“So, you will know exactly where the entrance is located?” Although I had myself walked in my father’s funeral procession, I would never be able to find the entrance in that vast, barren amphitheatre once it had been closed up and hidden beneath boulders and scattered rocks.

“Of course, Majesty. I have the co-ordinates here.” He tapped his egg-shaped head.

“I want you to open it up, and extend it, with a deeper joint burial chamber, where I may lie with my royal father, in my own sarcophagus.”

“But … is there not already a tomb …”

“Yes, but it is only suitable for a Great Royal Wife. You shall become the Overseer of the King’s Tomb, and prepare one suitable for your Pharaoh. With appropriate inscriptions, naturally, and paintings relating to my reign. I know that already you are almost over-burdened, but I confidently entrust this additional great responsibility to you.”

“Thank you, Majesty. I am extremely busy, but I can manage one more important task.” He stared smugly at Senenmut.

“And as for you, Senenmut, you are to undertake the task of planning and designing my mortuary temple at Djeser-Djeseru. You shall be Overseer of the King’s Temple. We shall discuss your ideas.”

A delighted grin from Senenmut; a sharp intake of breath from Hapuseneb. Who was immediately jealous, for the mortuary temple would be in the public eye, while the tomb would remain hidden, and no-one would admire what Hapuseneb had wrought.

“I know I can depend on your absolute discretion,” I said to Hapuseneb.

“No-one seeing, no-one hearing,” murmured Senenmut.

“Of course, Majesty,” said Hapuseneb through clenched teeth.

Hapuseneb looked down on Senenmut as an upstart provincial, coming from the small town of Iuny, being born of undistinguished parents, and having been educated by a priest. Hapuseneb, on the other hand, was a child of the palace, since his mother – who was a noblewoman – had waited on my mother the Queen, and he had been educated with the royal children, though before my time. However, it soon became clear that in terms of intellectual power and innate ability he and Senenmut were on an equal footing, and it sorely irked Hapuseneb. But it pleased me greatly and it strengthened my hand in dealing with them. And it amused me to see Hapuseneb seethe.

Of all the building works that I have caused to be done, my temple at Djeser-Djeseru is the one I love the best. It lifts my heart to think of it and I try to visit it often.

Senenmut knew that I had long admired the setting and he understood that it called for something exceptional. He took some time to consider possible designs and then he made a model of his concept, beautifully crafted out of light wood and placed against the mountainous cliffs of the bay where it would stand, sculpted out of some kind of clay and painted to look very realistic. I have it still; it is kept on a table in the palace and little Amenhotep begs to go and look at it when he comes to visit me. I remember so well the day Senenmut showed me the model in his office for the first time.

The model was covered with a linen cloth, so I did not see it at once. I was extremely curious to see what he had designed. He was quite nervous, I could tell, for he walked to and fro and talked too much.

“It will arise beside the partly ruined temple of Mentuhotep the Second,” he explained, “but it will replace the building begun for the late Pharaoh Thutmose, may he live. The rear will be hewn out of the rocks, but the main construction in front will be built of limestone, so it will be almost white. The plan …”