Truth is the Soul of the Sun
A Biographical Novel of Hatshepsut-Maatkare
by
Maria Isabel Pita
Copyright ©2009 Maria Isabel Pita
Smashwords Edition
Author's Note
Shortly before Hatshepsut, translated as Foremost of Noble Women, was crowned Pharaoh she took the throne name Maatkare. The concept of Maat—depicted as a goddess—is one Egyptologists still struggle with but it can essentially be summed up like this: Maat is the Divine force or energy that manifests through the sun and flows through the world. Maat is the spirit of beauty and order. Maat also represents truth and justice when, through human beings, she becomes the conscious exercise of faith in the transcendent creative power embodied in the solar disc. Because Maat breathes life into everything, the more someone opens their heart to Maat the healthier and happier they are as circumstances seem almost magically to favor them. Hence the famous scene from The Book of the Dead (actually entitled The Book of Coming Forth By Day and Opening the Tomb) where a human heart is shown balancing on a scale with the feather Maat always wore in her hair. Everyone possesses the mysterious ability to enrich the world with joyful flights of the imagination. The ancient Egyptians recognized that “Life, health, strength” was the reward for what they called “Cutting Maat” with their every thought, word and action. Immortality could only be achieved through “the intelligence of the heart.” Maatkare means Maat is the Ka of Re, i.e. The True and Beautiful (proper) Manifestation of the Sun’s Divine Life-force. A more poetic but still accurate translation of Hatshepsut’s throne name is Truth is the Soul of the Sun.
For more than three years I immersed myself in all the available information to date about Hatshepsut-Maatkare (inevitably there are gaps in the physical evidence Egyptologists fill with various theories) then I let the “intelligence of my heart” lead the way along the mysterious currents of a life lived thousands of years ago in a time and place very different from our own. And yet, I will admit, writing this book felt like finally going home.
Book One
Daughter of Re
1 – Great House
2 – Divine Words
3 – Creative Fire
4 – Lady of Life
5 – Cities of Eternity
6 – The Spirit of Isis
7 – The Path of Maat
1
Great House
Hatshepsut first experienced fear in her royal nurse’s milk. The unfamiliar flavor made her cry in protest. Desire and fulfillment formed the twin peaks of her life until the first words she believes she remembers hearing, “The falcon has flown!” were whispered against her cheek, and then suddenly the generous nipples she loved so much trickled only a frustrating bitterness. Fortunately, her mother came and took her away and in the arms of her new nurse life became pleasantly unremarkable again.
She was too young to understand that her mother’s brother, Amenhotep, Amun is Content, had gone to his Ka and another man had taken his place as Lord of the Two Lands—her father. She loved the way he swept her up in his arms and spun her around and around, transforming the room into a cloud of bright colors in which the only real thing was the firm warmth of his arms holding her against him. When he set her down she clung to the pillars of his legs, giggling helplessly as the room settled solidly back into place. The world outside entered the house in her father’s flesh and she inhaled it curiously as he perched her on his lap. She loved snuggling up against him while he conversed with the queen even though his deep voice vibrated so soothingly through her body she had to struggle not to drift off to sleep. She pressed her ear against his chest, listening in wonder to the drummer living inside him who never needed to rest. Intriguing shapes sometimes hung from a leather cord around his neck, and although they did not taste like much their bright colors never failed to entertain her.
She hated it when Inet came to take her away; she would much rather have slept in Pharaoh’s arms than in her bed. Knowing it might be a long time before she saw him again made it doubly hard to let go. The first sentence she clearly remembers understanding was spoken by her father: “She is a little queen fighting for her throne.”
“My throne!” she echoed and clutched the head of the jeweled bird resting with open wings against his chest. Determined to hold onto him, she endured the pain of its beak digging into her skin.
* * * * *
“Hatshepsut!” Inet cried her name urgently. “Come, my lady! It is time to give a road to the feet!”
“But I cannot leave without Bubu!”
As she spoke his name, the cat strolled into her room from the Pleasure House.
“There he is.” Inet frowned. The large young feline never listened to her. “Now hurry, my dear. The boat has been furnished and Pharaoh awaits his daughter.”
“Come, Bubu, we are going on a journey!” She was not at all nervous about leaving home because everyone who lived in her heart was going with her.
It turned out to be a very long journey. Land gave them to land as the River never ended. Thankfully, being onboard the Falcon was great fun. She was not limited to the pavilion, except for during the hottest part of the day when Inet made her take a nap after they ate. She spent as much time as her father permitted by his side. She enjoyed listening to him talk with the captain, a tall man named Manu whose especially nice smile inspired her to favor him with her questions and observations.
As the solar bark began its journey through the dark hours of the night, the royal ships turned toward shore and a Mooring Place of Pharaoh. Unless she was too tired to remember their arrival, Hatshepsut always enjoyed studying new faces and smiling up at each one to see how it reacted. She liked the people who grinned warmly back at her, but she was disappointed and bored by those individuals who shifted their eyes away, as if the daughter of Re was too bright to look at.
She knew from listening to her parents talking together alone, as they invariably did in the evenings, that how well equipped the ports were pleased them.
“Soldiers and chariots are all kept properly anointed,” her mother said. “And I have it from Akheperseneb that Pharaoh’s army occasionally eats as well as the court, enjoying short-horned oxen from the west, fat calves from the south and succulent birds from the reed swamps in addition to the customary wheat loaves, dried meats and honey cakes. My lord is truly generous.”
“It is best to keep them happy now for the closer we draw to Wawat the louder their bellies will speak longingly of home.”
Even though she was full of duck, Hatshepsut could not resist helping herself to another fig. “Where is Wawat?” she asked.
“Near the end of the world!” Ahmose sighed.
“Then why do we have to go there?”
“Pharaoh is honoring all the gods with a visit to the Nome of their birth. The Ba of each Nome enriches the land in its own unique fashion but they all share a single Ka in the king who wears the Two Ladies on his forehead—the vulture Nekhbet, guardian of the south, and the cobra Wadjet, protector of the North. Wawat is in Down Below, the realm of chaos and despair where Sekhmet feasted wildly on blood until Thoth transformed her into Bast by plunging her into the sacred waters of Osiris at the birth of the River. Pharaoh is once again taking the shining lances of his army Down Below to pierce its darkness with Re’s light and enforce the Divine order of Maat. Now off to bed.”
“Tomorrow we reach the city of your birth, Hatshepsut.” Her father kissed her goodnight on both cheeks. “Waset,[1] home of the King of The Gods, Amun-Re. Together you and I will visit the Hidden One in his temple.”
Wide awake with questions, she lingered disobediently. “But how can we visit a god that hides from us?”
Laughing, Ahmose glanced at her husband, her eyes intent on his reply.
“She is exhausting,” he groaned, falling back across the couch. “I keep expecting Manu to throw her overboard, the poor man. He has earned a golden collar!”
Hatshepsut watched in fascination as her mother leaned over her father and gently raked his skin with her red fingernails from the base of his neck all the way down to his navel. She nearly forgot her question as her parents suddenly reminded her of two kittens playing in a basket.
“Husband,” Ahmose whispered, “she will not leave until you answer her question.”
He grasped her slender wrist, inhaling appreciatively as he sat up. “My dear daughter, your Ka asks questions your Ba is still too young to understand the answers to. Go to bed and see if a dream will enlighten you. We learn as much, and often more, when we are asleep, which is what you should be.”
“Yes, father. Goodnight. Goodnight mother.”
“Goodnight, my love,” they said as one.
* * * * *
Re felt more powerful in the Town of Amun, where Inet said everyone was celebrating the festival of Renenutet, giving thanks for the bountiful harvest and the good fortune of health and abundance that augured the birth of many future scribes. However, when Hatshepsut asked where her mother and Meri had gone, her nurse’s bright expression dimmed to one of respectful sadness.
“They have gone to offer the first fruits of the harvest to the dead and to remember your little brother who went to his Ka only one moon after he was born, on that ill-fated day when Seth celebrates his birthday.”
The jaws of the little wooden hippopotamus sitting in Hatshepsut’s lap closed with a loud snap as she tugged on the string connecting them. “Mother had another child besides me?”
“Please do not tell anyone you know, Hatshepsut. Your mother did not wish to upset you with his death.”
She tossed the toy away. “I am not upset!”
Bubu pounced on it like a lion, intrigued by the string.
The Temple of Amun-Re affected Hatshepsut like her first sight of the pyramids. Rays of light streaming in from openings in the dark ceiling, decorated with golden stars and flying birds, looked almost solid enough to touch. Erected on her father’s command, two rows of immense wooden pillars evoked lotus and papyrus stalks. As Re traveled across the sky, the great columns seemed to bloom with paintings and hieroglyphs inscribed on all their sides. The shafts of sunlight spoke in silent statements she felt her heart understanding almost as clearly as her eyes could see them. The hall was dark enough to hide the mysterious Amun-Re even as his luminous arms welcomed them.
While the queen and God’s Wife spent the day with the ancient cobra Renenutet, Pharaoh and his daughter visited the Per Ankh, and there her favorite half brother, Amenmose, Born of Amun, joined them. She was delighted to see him. He kindly cured her boredom by giving her a ride on his back into the inner garden, where there was no one to hear her scream as he tossed her into a pool, flung off his kilt, and promptly joined her in the cool water.
She splashed him happily. “What is father doing in that stuffy old room?”
“Consulting with some of the wisest men in the Two Lands.”
“If they were truly wise they would be out here with us!”
He laughed. “Well said, sister.”
* * * * *
After Waset, the royal family stayed for a few days in Nekhen before sailing even further south to Djeba. All Hatshepsut remembers about the Temple of Horus is dazzlingly painted columns and a sky blue as lapis lazuli. Every time she looked up she glimpsed a falcon flying so high its wings appeared as motionless as those of the jeweled hawk resting against her father’s chest. Djeba was special to Pharaoh for he was the spirit of Horus made flesh, or so her mother told her and she believed it even though she had no idea what that meant. She was certain of only one thing—the whole world belonged to her father.
She never got bored on the ship, from which there was always something new to see. One afternoon she happened to be looking at some wet rocks rising from the water near the west bank when one of them suddenly opened its mouth and she realized it was a hippopotamus. Its tongue was as big as her bed; it could easily have crushed her little bones with the square rocks of its teeth and buried her forever in its dark belly. The thought thrilled her with terror.
“The Great One.” Ahmose stretched forth her right hand with two fingers extended in the gesture of protection. “Tawaret, she who destroys to protect and to nourish. If you had to give two words to what the heart repeats over and over with its double beat they would be creation and destruction, the rhythm of life as we experience it.”
Even though Re was still high in the sky, she shivered. “But when something is destroyed it dies…”
“Do not be afraid, my daughter. When we die we are born to the Divine power behind all creation that lives inside us.”
“But Inet told me the hippopotamus goddess protects women in childbirth.”
“That is so, but Tawaret also protects the soul in the magical womb of the burial chamber, through which we are born to our eternal nature as we assume command of the laws of manifestation.” She pointed upriver. “See that crocodile?”
Hatshepsut shaded her eyes with both hands. “Yes, I see it!”
“The first neter to emerge from the starry womb of Mother Nut, Sobek swims with Tawaret, the goddess who wears him across her back in the northern sky. To our body the crocodile is a dangerous creature, but our Ka understands that the death and destruction it represents lead to the transformation of state which returns us to our celestial source. Even so, the journey through the Dwat can be a perilous one. Ammit, who is half crocodile and half hippopotamus, devours any heart which does not balance with the feather of truth, forcing its owner to begin the journey of life anew.”
“The feather worn by the goddess Maat?”
“Yes. Maat is the Divine energy embodied in the sun. If you have faith in life’s eternal nature, and are true to what you believe with all your thoughts and actions, then your heart receives, circulates and exhales Maat as you speak in a perfect balance. But doubts and fears, evil words and deeds block the free flow of cosmic energy through your body, which drains you of health and strength and prevents beautiful things from happening to you.”
Hatshepsut thought a great deal about that conversation. She resented being afraid of anything and it seemed her mother had given her the words she needed to in the future defend herself from the sensation of powerlessness she disliked so much. When she mentioned the hippopotamus to Inet, her nurse changed the subject by once more telling her the story of a fish that fell in love with a boy. For a while she managed to forget the concepts—as dark and intense as the star-filled sky—her mother had planted in her heart.
* * * * *
Hatshepsut began to feel they would never reach Wawat. She did not want to admit she was increasingly nervous about traveling to the end of the world. It reassured her to stand at the ship’s railing and look out at the army traveling with them. The points of spears—all properly polished and anointed—reflected the light of the rising sun so that another glimmering river seemed to be flowing across the earth. At times there was barely enough room in the water for all the boats sailing behind the royal barge. As twilight fell, the gilded Wedjat eyes painted on the curving bows saw into the darkness and guided them safely toward the torch-lit shore.
Every morning the world was born anew and the baboons were there to rejoice in the miracle. Their raucous celebration woke Hatshepsut and forced her to face another day of the seemingly endless journey. Time flowed slowly by in a waking dream of golden desert mountains and vast turquoise skies her mother described as the jewels worn by the falcon god whose right eye was the sun and whose left eye was the moon.
When they reached the first wild waters, all the ships turned into the canal she learned her father had recently emptied of the stones blocking it. But when, days later, they came to a second place where the River was not navigable everyone was obliged to travel by land as Pharaoh commanded the boats be dragged behind them. Hatshepsut’s heart beat fast with mingled fear and excitement as the nearly deafening power of the rushing River, carried toward her by the wind, coolly stung her skin and lips and enabled her to taste its dangerous beauty.
Several mornings later the Soul of Isis rose on the horizon. The star burned a pure blue-white and announced Wep-Renpet, the birth of Re and the Opening of the Year, Pharaoh’s birthday. They were far from home in Wawat, which made the excess of lamps lit that night in celebration look even more comfortingly beautiful, and yet the skin of the royal court’s local host remained as dark as night. No Kushite had ever smiled at her the way Ruiu did, Deputy of the King’s Son and Overseer of the Southern Foreign Lands. She liked Ruiu and his wife very much because they were not afraid to look her straight in the eye. It was disappointing they never touched her; she would have liked to know if their skin was as cool and smooth as the black ivory it resembled.
Inet complained of the plainness of the rooms and garden but wherever there was a pool Hatshepsut was happy, and it especially pleased her when Amenmose joined her in it. She relished distracting him by diving beneath the water and tickling him as he swam. Afterward they embraced the shade beneath a pavilion where he attempted to silence her curious questions by slipping slices of fresh fruit between her lips.
“How much farther do we have to go, brother?”
“A long way, little sister.” He wiped away the cool juice trickling down her chin with his warm thumb. “Deep into wretched Kush.”
“But if Kush is so wretched, why are we going there?”
He frowned. “So it does not come to us.”
This disturbing conversation replayed itself monotonously in her mind until five large monuments, all proclaiming her father’s victory over the Kushites, brought the barren landscape to life with the reassuringly clean and colorful lines of hieroglyphs. The royal party spent that night in one of the newly constructed fortresses and several days later an even larger fortification of Pharaoh rose welcomingly on the horizon.
The ships were pulled over land again and then, at last, they united with their final destination. Generals, priests, scribes, the most elite members of the court, the queen, a prince and the princess—everyone had come all that way in order to watch Pharaoh’s scribes drawing on a big rock. They had reached the end of the ordered world of Maat and Hatshepsut wanted desperately to turn back and go home. It seemed to take forever to complete the great monument marking Kemet’s new southern boundary. Through his bodily son, Thutmose-Akheperkare, the power and compassion of Amun now reached all the way to that desolate place. The mountain became a closed door locked by magic. Those foolish enough to ignore its warning would perish like shadows on the shining lances of Re’s army.
2
Divine Words
During the journey home, the queen’s belly gradually grew. Every night Hatshepsut prayed to Tawaret to protect Ahmose when the time came for the new person to be born, and destroy the perfect happiness of having her mother’s love all to herself.
The gods both punished and rewarded her for her selfishness in the form of Senimen, the young nobleman honored with the position of tutor to the princess. He was not as handsome as Amenmose but at least he was not as old as the Wisdom Texts he made her copy and recopy until her wrist and fingers ached. Despite how hard he inspired her to work, and yet also because of it, she found his company much more interesting than that of her half brothers, Ramose and Wadjmose, who did nothing but tease her the rare times she saw them. Never having met Thutmose—her father’s youngest son by her mother’s half sister, the Lady Mutnofret—she had no idea yet how she felt about him. It was not long before she had fondly nicknamed her tutor Seni. She loved knowing she could ask him endless questions and that instead of dismissing them like a cloud of annoying flies he would answer each one in detail.
After perfuming her mouth with milk, fruit and bread, she had her lessons in the cool light of morning in her Pleasure House. Sitting on a papyrus mat in front of a pool, she often looked up from the motionless little pictures and soothed her physical restlessness by watching the fish flitting freely back and forth. Yet they too were confined to a square space akin to her tablet, which magically became the whole world through the medu neters—Divine Words.
Using black ink she copied each symbol Senimen pronounced for her. The red ink stored in a recess on the other side of her palette he later used to correct her mistakes. He met her in the garden every morning with several freshly cleaned tablets hanging over his shoulder. He also carried a little drawstring bag containing all the ingredients he needed to mix the colors. She watched attentively as he stirred soot and papyrus juice together with the tip of his rush stem brush, and then carefully added a little water to produce black ink. He showed her how to make red ink with burned ochre which first had to be ground into a fine powder so it could be bonded with papyrus juice then thinned with water. She soon learned how to mix her own colors and earned her own little leather bag.
The Wisdom Texts she copied and memorized passages from consisted of two separate books—The Instruction of King Amenemhet and the Adoration of the River.[2] In the first book, Pharaoh Amenemhet gave his son, Sesostris, advice on how to protect himself from treachery. Some of the old king’s courtiers had tried to murder him in the night but he had survived the attack by bravely fighting them off. Hatshepsut found the story disturbing. She could not understand why some people had been so murderously unhappy with Amenemhet, who had tamed lions, captured crocodiles and made certain no one in Kemet hungered or thirsted.
“No one would ever dare attack my father like that!” She waited tensely for Seni to confirm her confidence and banish the invisible but chilling shadow abruptly fallen over the garden.
“By the Ka of Ptah, I pray such evil will never come to pass, and yet we can never know with absolute certainty what will or will not happen, Hatshepsut. The important thing to remember is that Amenemhet, Lord of All, was victorious in the darkness against those who betrayed his justice and trust with ingratitude and violence. Remember also that by then he was an old man prepared to give the care of the Two Lands into the hands of his son. Sesostris was like your father, strong and wise as Horus, his people knowing only happiness when they gave him praise.”
Even though she was reassured, Hatshepsut much preferred copying the Adoration of the River. She had become familiar with the River’s different moods during the trip to and from Wawat, and depending on her own mood she sometimes felt it took almost as long as the journey had lasted to write two short sentences:
“Praise to thee, O River, that issues from the earth and comes to nourish Kemet. Of hidden nature, a darkness in the daytime, the light that comes from darkness, the strong one that creates all that is good.”[3]
For the purpose of learning the correct writing of individual words, she copied the list compiled by the scribe of the God’s Book in the House of Life, Amenemope, son of Amenemope, entitled The teaching that makes clever and instructs the ignorant, the knowledge of all that exists, what Ptah has created and Thoth has written, the heaven with its stars, the earth and what is in it, what the mountains give forth and what flows from the ocean, concerning all things that the sun enlightens and all that grows.[4]
She was immediately intrigued by how different combinations of little pictures formed specific words. The first thing Seni taught her how to write was her own name, of course. He explained to her how the shenu ring that enclosed all royal names was linked to the shen ring—the word for eternity written as a circle over a line which, amongst other things, represented the solar disc perched on the horizon.
“The shenu ring is the closed loop of your personal destiny which flows out of an eternal reality when you are born and returns to it when you die,” he told her. “Your body rises and sets like the sun, but the shenu ring, which encircles the hieroglyphs spelling your name, symbolizes the power your Ka possesses to contain an infinite Divine force in a temporary physical form.”
The long shenu ring spelling her name Hatshepsut contained a feather, a senet board, the row of little pyramids representing water, a vase with two different sized handles, the head and front legs of a lion drawn in profile, and a man with a royal beard who was wrapped up like a mummy and sat on a lion-paw throne holding a fly whisk scepter against his heart. For some reason those different images spelled out her identity. She studied the signs with puzzled curiosity trying to understand what they might tell her about herself.
One morning when she was frustrated by how slowly her skill and understanding were growing, Seni smiled at her and said, “You are doing very well, Hatshepsut, do not be impatient but rather persevere in asking my counsel and in mastering the Divine art of writing. Set your heart upon words for you will find them infinitely profitable. ‘It is good to study many things so that you may learn the wisdom of great men. And while you are on your journey, you need never hide your heart. Step out on the path of learning, where the friends of Man are your company’.”[5]
* * * * *
“Come in, Hatshepsut.”
She hesitated before stepping tentatively into Meri’s bedroom. She had never been invited inside before and this fact, coupled with her mother’s confinement, made her nervous. The large space was full of fascinating furniture revealed by dozens of burning oil lamps.
Meri was sitting at her cosmetics table. She had just returned from somewhere important because she was wearing the queen’s vulture crown. After her attendant gently separated it from her wig, she took it from the woman’s hands and rested it on her lap as she said, “Leave us, Nepthys.” The lines on both sides of her small firm mouth seemed more pronounced than normal.
Hatshepsut went and stood obediently before her mother’s sister, her eyes irresistibly drawn to the golden vulture. Meri’s fingers looked strangely swollen and nearly as stiff as the bird nesting in them.
“Your mother has gone to the birthing arbor, Hatshepsut. I would be there with her now if she had not asked me to stay with you instead.”
“Will she be all right?”
“Only the gods know. She is no longer young. She is, however, healthy and strong and attended by midwives from the House of Life, so do not be afraid. You should never be afraid. Death exists only in fear. Fear cripples and can even kill the ability of your Ba to exercise the creative power it shares with Re through your Ka. Fear is worse than a hundred thousand armed Kushites. Fear seduces with reasonable excuses. You must always fight fear and triumph over it. Only then will you be worthy of the vulture crown. Do you understand, Hatshepsut?”
“I understand nothing can truly hurt me for I am the daughter of Re so there is no reason for me to be afraid of anything. Mother told me so. She said destruction and death are only transformations.”
“That does not mean they cannot be painful,” Meri warned sternly. “While blood still flows through our bodies the fear of pain is one of the strongest of all.”
Hatshepsut began to worry. She had recently scraped both knees in a fall and had no desire to repeat the experience, which had been both painful and bloody. She hoped that did not mean she was not brave enough to be queen.
“Never doubt yourself!” Meri said harshly. She glanced down at the imperishable vulture lying in her lap and added more gently, “Would you like me to tell you about Nekhbet?”
“Yes, please,” she replied dutifully even while secretly hoping Inet would come and take her back to her room soon.
“The vulture Nekhbet and the cobra Wadjet protect Kemet from their throne on Pharaoh’s forehead, but the Two Ladies are a single goddess in the Great Mother Mut, the consort of Amun and Mistress of the Two Lands. The vulture is a loving mother who conceives by opening her wings, glimmering with all the colors of Creation, to the celestial wind. But you are only a child. You will not understand if I tell you more.”
“I am not a child.” Indignation destroyed her anxiety in a flash and blinded her to the fact she was speaking rudely. “I am a princess of Kemet. I can understand anything!”
Amusement lightened the corners of Meri’s mouth for an instant but her smile died before coming to life. “And one day you may be a queen. You need-”
“May be a queen?”
“Never interrupt me again, princess. When a queen wears the vulture headdress she is consciously marrying God who uses her body for His own pleasure and purpose. By way of the vulture crown, the queen becomes the mother of her people’s Divine nature as she nourishes their bodies with food and their hearts with wisdom. Every person must awaken the Akh within them. Akh is the process of your Ba becoming fully conscious of the beautiful truth that Amun-Re is feeling through your heart and seeing through your eyes. The vulture lives off dead meat just as your Akh transcends the mortal flesh which gives birth to it.”
“Amun-Re is hidden inside us?”
“Yes!” Meri stood abruptly and placed the vulture crown on top of a featureless wooden head.
“Is father’s other wife, the Lady Mutnofret, so far away because she does not live in father’s heart the way mother does?”
“You are much concerned with love, Hatshepsut.”
She did not understand the remark for the only thing which concerned her about love was the possibility of its loss.
“Come and sit with me,” God’s Wife commanded gently.
Hatshepsut followed her across the room to a couch in which the two front legs, carved of gilded wood, were topped with Hippopotamus heads. The open jaws revealed red tongues and large, square white teeth lined up behind evil-looking ivory fangs. The couch’s four unnaturally slender legs ended in lion’s paws that rested on a rectangular black base and the seat evoked a crocodile’s long and slender back.
“That is Ammit,” she observed anxiously.
“Do not be concerned. Ammit devours only those hearts which do not prove as light as the feather of truth.” Meri seated herself on the frightening creature’s spine and stretching her legs before her leaned back against the golden djed pillars and ankh signs decorating both the head and the baseboards. “Come here, Hatshepsut. It is fear that blocks the flow of solar energy through the heart. If you are not afraid and believe in Maat, Ammit will not devour you. Ammit even becomes your friend by ridding the world of bad people who would hurt you. I am not impressed with how well you listen to what I tell you.”
She quickly climbed up beside her mother’s sister.
“You are fond of Amenmose, Hatshepsut?”
“Yes!”
“And what about Wadjmose and Ramose?”
“I do not know… I suppose I do not like them very much.”
“A king’s wife must be a good judge of character if she truly wishes to be of service to him. You are right. Wadjmose is the eldest but he is unfinished. He is delightful at a banquet but in the Seal Room he would be disastrous; he is perfectly happy hunting ostriches and collecting women. Ramose is a disciplined soldier but a small man. He is strong and brave as a bull but the wisdom of Thoth and the enlightenment of Horus are beyond him. That is why your father favors Amenmose. It seems your favorite brother is destined to be Pharaoh one day and you will be his Great Royal Wife.” She paused before adding, “Unless your mother gives birth to a son tonight.”
“Then the baby will become Pharaoh instead?” She hated to think how disappointed Amenmose would be.
“Perhaps. Perhaps not. Offices have no offspring, sometimes not even the king’s. Your father is not of royal blood and yet the gods saw fit to make him The Eye Of All Men. However, if my sister gives birth to another girl then you will have a rival, for Amenmose’s affections.”
Hatshepsut abruptly felt her heart talking very quickly, urgently telling her something… If Amenmose grew to love her baby sister more than he loved her, this nameless creature whom she already disliked would become his Great Royal Wife and Queen of the Two Lands. Her chest felt disturbingly hot at the thought, as though Ammit was already chewing on her heart and threatening to swallow her future.
* * * * *
The following morning Inet greeted her with a bright smile that cast a strange shadow in her eyes. “As the earth became light and the next day was come, your mother gave birth to a baby girl,” she announced, removing the ivory wand she placed at the foot of Hashepsut’s bed every night. Various gods in their animal forms drawn in black ink protected the princess from demons who wore their terrible faces on the backs of their heads and preyed on helpless children.
“Your sister’s name is Neferubity, Beautiful Daughter of the King, and I am to take you into her presence as soon as you have perfumed your mouth and had your lessons.”
Hatshepsut had no patience that day for silly little pictures which all seemed to spell out her great losses. She did not care that she was disobeying Meri and dishonoring herself by being afraid; she could not help it.
“That is enough copying for today,” Seni said abruptly and removing the tablet resting on her lap replaced it with a fresh one. “I would like you to write mer for me.”
“The word for love?”
“The very one.”
“But mer is only one little picture of a plow.”
“Write it.”
She did so slowly, making an effort to remember exactly what it looked like, for he had assured her every detail was important.
“Very good, Hatshepsut. Now tell me why you think a plow is used to write the sound which means love.”
“I do not know,” she said impatiently, thinking of her mother’s love divided in half between two daughters and of Amenmose’s affection for her threatened by a sister.
“What does a plow do?”
“It makes a path through the earth.”
“And what is that path for?”
She looked at him incredulously. “You know what it is for, to plant seeds that grow into food, of course.”
“And what do we do with the crops that spring forth from the seeds sown in the path formed by the plow?”
She rolled her eyes. “We eat them.”
“And what happens when we eat them?”
“We feel full and happy. If we did not eat we would die. Our flesh would shrivel up and all that would be left was bare bones.” She was in such a bad mood she took a perverse pleasure in the gruesome image.
“Then you understand why the hieroglyph which means mer is written by a plow.”
He sounded so flatteringly certain of her comprehension she thought very hard, not wanting to disappoint him. The answer was so obvious she nearly missed it. “Because we could not live without it!”
He smiled. “As you said, when people are starving they are a terrible sight. Their bones press against their withered flesh like the twigs of an empty nest. A Ba that does not love is one through which the Ka cannot shine, a miserable personality already dead in life. Do you begin to see how in a single hieroglyph many truths can be hidden and expressed?”
“Yes!” Abruptly she realized how stupid she was being. She had not lost anything she had gained a sister she could love who could also grow to love her. If love was food for the Ka, the more there was of it in her family the better. “Do all hieroglyphs mean so much, Seni?”
“As much and more. If you add an ‘e’ to mer it spells ‘subjects’, mere.”
“Because my father loves his people and they love him?” she guessed eagerly.
“Yes. And because the only thing which truly has any power, the only thing worthy of ruling our lives and which all our thoughts should serve to protect, nourish and assist in growing, is love.”
A deepening respect for her tutor drew the features of his face more distinctly in her vision. Perhaps he was as handsome as Amenmose, only in a different way. His skin was not as attractively gilded by the sun’s as her half brother’s but that was only because he was a scribe and spent almost as much time indoors as ladies of the court. In that moment she decided Senimen might also be worthy of her love.
“Meri told me last night I was much concerned with love,” she informed him proudly.
“Yes, I know.” He smiled again. “Now write the letter b for me.”
She obeyed him at once, relieved it was much easier to draw than a plough. “B is a foot.”
“No, Hatshepsut, a foot is b. The reality of b exists before the sound. Everything comes into being when its name is spoken but what is embodied in the foot existed before the foot itself. The hieroglyph b represents a foot that walks or runs until you draw a rolled papyrus scroll beside it.”
He waited until she had complied with his unspoken request before continuing.
“The rolled papyrus scroll alerts the reader to a hidden meaning behind the obvious and is used to indicate an abstract principle. A scroll written beside it transforms b into the concepts of placement, of support and of duality, because you cannot walk on just one foot. When you are older, and continue your education in the Temple, you will better understand why b is one of the first sounds uttered by Thoth.”
* * * * *
Ladies of the court were often invited to visit the residence and those with young sons and daughters brought them along in the hope the princesses would honor them with their attention. Since Neferubity was still only a baby it was Hatshepsut who entertained herself with the assorted children of the nobility. She looked forward to spending time with the more adventurous boys and girls and it was always fun when one or more of them brought along their favorite pets.
No one owned as many animals as the oldest princess and she never tired of showing them off. Except for Bubu, and two small birds in a cage, Inet would not let any of the creatures into her room so they all lived in their own wing. Several moons after she mentioned a pair of little black-and-white monkeys she had seen in the company of a lady, four of the same species were delivered to her growing menagerie. Their faces were adorably intelligent and, in her opinion, they were smarter than many people. Her mother said she could have a tame gazelle when she was older and Amenmose had secretly promised her one of his lion cubs.
In addition to her living pets, Hatshepsut owned a large collection of cats, most made of wood or alabaster with glass eyes. Her favorite was carved of black ivory and had life-like turquoise eyes. She enjoyed arranging her toy felines around Bubu while he slept and pretending he was Pharaoh attended by beautiful women all coveting the position of his Great Royal Wife. Naturally, he did not desire any of them because they were not really alive. She was confident Amenmose would behave just as wisely when the time came for him to choose the woman he would marry and set above all others as queen.
She was forbidden to bring any of her animals with her when she met with Seni in the Pleasure House for her lessons. The restriction had annoyed her at first but it was not long before she actually enjoyed learning the profound ideas and meanings expressed through the medu neters. Sometimes, however, the complexity of hieroglyphs made her head hurt and her tutor seemed to notice because the next morning he always set her an easier, if more tedious, exercise. She was obliged to copy the names of all the Nomes in Kemet and, even worse, to memorize them. She learned to list all the northern and southern cities and the names of foreign peoples, their lands and their cities, a task she found perversely interesting. She could not help feeling sorry for anyone who lived far from the River because obviously the gods did not love them as much as they loved her and everyone else born in Kemet.
* * * * *
Neferubity stopped eating. Seven magic wands were placed around her bed but, Inet said sadly, evil spirits had run off with her appetite. Hatshepsut was aware of what happened in her little sister’s room because her nurse told her everything. She knew Nefi had been born so weak and sickly that she was put on a diet of ground fragments of her own placenta mixed with milk taken from a woman who had borne many strong male children.
“What is placenta, Iny?”
“It is what comes out of the mother after the baby.”
“But what is it?”
“The placenta is the remains of the baby’s residence in its mother’s belly, which still shines with the magic of the Ka that shaped it.”
“But that means Nefi’s Ka was not great enough of magic to create a healthier body.”
“How can you say that, Hatshepsut? Your sister is not yet two years of age. It is not her fault she is sickly.”
“But her Ka must be to blame for not making her healthy,” she insisted. “It was not powerful enough to fight off the evil spirits.”
“Are you not sad your sister may soon go to her Ka, powerful or not?”
“I do not really know her. I am only worried because mother will be so unhappy.”
“If your sister goes to her Ka you will be the only child born of Ahmose who has lived to walk. You are very special to her, Hatshepsut.” She took her in her arms. “To all of us!”
No one was surprised when, on the birthday of Horus the Elder, Neferubity’s Ba stopped fighting the desire to fly back up to the sky.
3
Creative Fire
In the month of Epiphi, in Year Eight of the Good God Akheperkare, three days after Princess Neferubity went to her Ka, the evil winds of Seth began blowing. The River was at its lowest point and so were Hatshepsut’s spirits. Her mother was ill and her father was away on a military campaign with Ramose and Amenmose. She did not know, or care, where Wadjmose was. She was obliged to remain indoors and boredom made the scorching winds feel even worse. The servants were forever cleaning up and their constant presence only added to the aggravation of being stuck inside all day. It was so hot and stuffy in her apartments, the only emotion she had the energy to muster was one of pure mindless longing for the pool in her garden. She craved the water’s cool clean depths, and the occasional slick caress of a fish against her skin, with all the passion left her to desire anything in Seth’s embrace.
During this time, Senimen became even more special to Hatshepsut. In the early morning—before Seth woke and marshaled his terrible army of sand—her lessons continued, engrossing her with the unchanging discipline and stimulating her with the profound challenges they presented. Later she entertained herself thinking about what she had learned as she curled up with Bubu on her bed for most of the endless afternoon. Inet insisted on wrapping her up in linen to protect her from the stinging lances of sand. Feeling like her own mummy, she listened to the wind howling through the city sounding like the lost souls of all the people devoured by Ammit desperate to find their way back into living bodies. It was an indescribable relief when Seth at last retreated and the peace of evening descended. The cool of twilight in her Pleasure House had never felt so wonderful and the colors flowing across the Celestial River in the wake of Atum-Re’s barge sailing into the darkness had never looked more beautiful.
After assuring her the queen felt better and would soon ask to see her, Inet sighed and said, “The land thirsts for the return of the Goddess!”
“Why does she leave us every year?” Hatshepsut demanded. “Where does she go? Is Kemet not good enough for her? Why does she make us all suffer so? And I thought Hathor was the goddess of music and pleasure, the wife of Horus, not Seth’s consort.”
“When the Goddess smiles at us we see Hathor but when she frowns it is Sekhmet we must deal with. Sekhmet was born wild and deep in her heart she always will be. Her destructive nature can only be tamed by her Father through the gods he sends to transform her.”
Hatshepsut spread herself out on a papyrus mat and rested her chin in her hands. “Tell me again about The Mistress of the Year!”
Beyond the roof of the pavilion, the western sky was her favorite color. She felt purely happy gazing up at the heavens when they shone like an amethyst. And even as the lovely hue was slowly consumed by darkness, she was consoled by brilliant stars that all sent fervently friendly arms straight toward her as she struggled to keep her eyes open listening to Inet telling her the story of the Divine lioness.
“At the beginning of time, Re wept because he was lonely, and as his hot golden tears fell to earth, bees and men were born from them. Re was pleased with himself, but soon there were so many people he could not control them. Angered by their disobedience, he commanded his daughter to kill as many of them as she desired. In the end, however, her thirst for blood was so intense that Re found himself threatened with eternal loneliness again. Witnessing the terrible carnage wrought by Sekhmet’s selfish hunger, he suffered a change of heart. Commanding vast quantities of beer to be brewed and then dyed red, one night he flooded the world with it. When Sekhmet woke the next morning, she drank deeply of what she believed was blood and was pacified. Yet she can never forget what she was, before Re set her on his forehead as his fiery eye. Every year she travels Down Below to satisfy her boundless appetite for men’s bodies. And every year she returns to Kemet as the dry land begins drinking the red waters of the inundation like blood bringing it to life again. And so the wild lioness is transformed into the gentle cat, Bast, lapping the milk of moonlight and purring contentedly at the feet of men whose hearts are warmed by Re’s bountiful compassion.
“Sekhmet protects and preserves from all evil,” Inet concluded, “everyone who believes she is the beautiful daughter of Re and the Beloved of Ptah even though death is forever part of her nature.”
* * * * *
Neferubity was in the Wabet. Hatshepsut was surprised it took such a long time to make such a small mummy.
“Your sister’s heart still belonged in great part to your mother so they will not remove her organs,” Seni told her. “The princess will rest beside the queen in her tomb.”
“Is that why Meri spends so much time in Waset, to make sure their Houses of Eternity are properly built and furnished?”
“Yes. The God’s Wife oversees the work in the Necropolis, as well as the health and happiness of all those entrusted with it.”
“I think she misses her brother and husband very much. If he had not died, she would still be the Great Royal Wife and Mistress of the Two Lands. Do you know when father will be back?”
“Pharaoh’s army has been victorious in The Land of the Two Rivers and the rule of Maat now extends as far as the circuit of the sun. We should soon be blessed by his return. Already I have received instructions from him as to how your education should progress.”
“Father wrote you about me?”
“Indeed he did, in response to my letter informing him what a diligent and excellent pupil you are proving to be.”
She resisted the urge to reach over and hug him fondly, and not only because she did not wish to spill the ink in her palette. Except for members of her immediate family, no one was allowed to touch her unless expressly given permission to do so. Even her own two best friends, Seshen and Meresankh, denied her the pleasure of wrestling them for air in the pond, or of being captured in a mock hunt, by virtuously refusing to touch her.
“You will be leaving for Waset soon, Hatshepsut,” Senimen informed her abruptly. “There you will continue your lessons in the Temple of Amun.”
Her heart sped up, passionately protesting the pain of another loss. “Will you be coming with me?” she demanded.
“My place is by your side until there is nothing left for me to teach you.”
“There will always be something for you to teach me!”
She regretted her outburst when he looked away. His throat moved as he swallowed and the one eye she could see blinked furiously even though Re, still the young and mild Khepri, had not yet risen above the garden wall.
He cleared his throat and straightened his back while staring fixedly over her head. “In any case, you still have much to learn here in Mennefer[6] before we leave.”
“Are you angry with me, Seni?”
“You are still only a child,” his eyes were shining as they met hers again, “but I can see, as your father and mother both do, that every god is in you, Hatshepsut. You have entered my heart. I could never be angry with you.”
* * * * *
“When Thoth spoke the desire in Atum-Re’s heart, it was Ptah who gave it a shape and became the patron of all craftsmen. It was Ptah, Lord of Sekhmet, who fashioned the world from the Divine Word and assigned a form, color and texture to everything. Ptah’s blue skull cap represents the celestial dimension in which the body of man took form wrapped in feathers and furs, because the Ka of all creatures lives in the human heart.”
Ptah, a handsome man, was himself bound by the laws of nature he commanded using the three objects grasped in his hands—the ankh, the djed pillar and a strange black scepter with human eyes.
Hatshepsut was familiar with the ankh and the djed pillar; she saw them everywhere on furniture and worn as jewelry. Inet owned dozens of amulets, including numerous djeds made from a variety of colorful materials. Her nurse said the djed symbolized the backbone of the resurrected Osiris and helped keep her strong and healthy. She was very glad that, so far, the amulets seemed to be working because she could not imagine life without Inet, who was naturally going with her to Waset. Some days she was so excited she could hardly wait to depart and continue her education in the Temple of the King of the Gods. Other days she had no wish to leave all the familiar comforts and pleasures of home in White Wall, as Mennefer was also called. She did not wish to see her mother’s House of Eternity. She hated to think about Ahmose, or anyone else she loved, going away forever. Neferubity did not really count.
“Hatshepsut, are you listening to me?”
“Yes, Seni, but I was also thinking.”
They were standing before the statue of Ptah at the heart of his temple, Kwt-Ka-Ptah. It was so quiet in the shrine that her thoughts struck her as strangely loud and her ability to collect them, in an effort to put her feelings into words, as more clumsy than normal. The High Priest had left them alone; she was Pharaoh’s daughter and was permitted to speak directly with the gods.
“Were you busy thinking about Ptah, Hatshepsut?”
“I was thinking about the djed pillar in his hands and how it blends with the ankh as well as with the was scepter and his beard.”
“Go on.”
“Well… if the djed is supposed to be the backbone of Osiris, why is Ptah holding it? And why is it so short? A real backbone is longer than that.” She tore her eyes from the neter’s enigmatically smiling face to glance up at her teacher. “And why does it have four black bars running through it?”
“That is three questions with one answer. It is a symbol.”
“A symbol of health and strength?” She was disappointed he seemed to be giving her the same answer as Inet.
“It is a symbol of a vital quality in the Laws of Becoming.”
That was a term she had never heard before and it threatened to make her head hurt. “Becoming what?” She was careful to keep her eyes on Seni’s face so Ptah would not think she was impatient with him and the complexity of his divinity.
“Becoming you.”
The straightforward reply surprised and pleased her but then also annoyed her because she still did not understand.
“Have you noticed, Hatshepsut, that the djed pillar resembles a tree?”
“Those are tree branches?” She turned her head and studied the symbol again doubtfully. “They do not really look like branches.”
“They symbolize branches which in turn symbolize the four cardinal elements and directions of the created world—the mysterious backbone of Osiris, the neter who embodies the power every individual possesses to conquer death just as seeds bury themselves in the dark earth and are reborn in another form. The djed promotes health and strength because believing in our eternal health gives our Ka the joyful strength it needs to protect our bodies from the ravages of fear disguised as disease.”
“Is that why our Ba is symbolized by a bird with a human head, because when we are born we fly down from heaven to nest in the djed tree of our spine, and when we die we fly back up to the sky again?” Excitement made her forget to keep her voice down and it reverberated through the shrine with a trapped energy that both embarrassed and fascinated her.
He smiled. “You could say that. The neb-ankh, the Master of Life in which a mummy lies,[7] is decorated with a djed pillar against which its spine rests, and a djed amulet made of gold is often placed against its neck—the column of flesh joining heaven and earth, Ba and Ka.”
“And is that why the djed Ptah is holding merges with an ankh, because they are both symbols of life?”
“Not just of life, Hatshepsut. The djed and the ankh symbolize life’s eternal and transcendent nature, the Divine creative fire housed inside all physical forms. There is a spiritual power latent in consciousness which can be awakened and developed through the intelligence of the heart. Pharaoh, your father, represents the fully developed personality that recognizes itself as the bodily son of Amun-Re. That is why only the gods and the king are permitted to hold the was scepter of dominion and power over the sensual world.”
“And that is why the djed and the ankh and the was scepter all merge with Ptah’s beard, the same beard I have seen father often wear! But why does the scepter have eyes? It reminds me of the jackal god Anubis, Lord of the Dead.”
“Look down, Hatshepsut, and you will see it also has legs. The was scepter symbolizes mastery over our animal nature, not through the cruelty of suppression but through the profound appreciation made possible by wisdom. Anubis is another subject for another day. We have come here to honor Ptah who, as you can see, is standing on the hieroglyph for One-Half—the divided unity from which all numbers and physical laws emerge.”
“And he is speaking with us, Seni,” she whispered in awe, staring at the neter’s smiling golden face. “Now that you have explained the meaning of the amulets he is holding, I can hear what he is telling us even though his lips do not move and my ears do not actually hear his voice.”
“God reveals himself in many ways and particularly in the inspired skill responsible for all beautiful creations. Tomorrow we will visit Pharaoh’s workshops. There you will witness the mortal limbs of Ptah exercising his Divine skill.”
* * * * *
“The greatest craftsmen and painters in Kemet,” Seni began his lesson for the day, “those men in whom the creative power of Ptah shines most brightly, are employed by your father. It is a sign of the highest favor when Pharaoh lends one or more of them to someone else. The individual so honored shows he has proven, by way of his words and actions, that he lives intimately with the knowledge of his innate divinity and has earned the sublime pleasures the intelligence of the heart makes possible. The Royal Goldsmith, the Royal Jeweler, the Royal Woodcarver and the Royal Statue Maker occupy special places beside Pharaoh at banquets and festivals. Today’s subject is the materials Ptah uses to express Atum-Re’s desire.”