CHAPTER 16

 

“Where are we going, Senemut?” Hattie asked for the fifth time.

For the fifth time, Senemut merely raised his eyebrows and said, “Have patience, little one.”

Hattie grinned. There was no doubt about it—the man guarded a secret better than the sands of the desert. Whatever he had planned was bound to be marvelous. Trying to be patient, she leaned back and let the welcome breeze drift over her as the oarsmen dipped and pulled, taking them swiftly across the Nile to the west bank. Though the sun was just rising, the day was already hot.

They landed and Senemut helped her out of the boat.

“Well?” she demanded. “What is the surprise?”

“We walk now.”

Sighing, Hattie gestured for him to lead the way, two guards trailing them at a respectful distance. He would tell her in his own good time.

Hurrying to keep up, she followed him as they crossed a broad plain, then scrambled up a steep and precarious path that was little more than a goat trail, leaving the guards puffing and muttering in their wake. Pausing at the top of the ridge to catch her breath, she panted, “I go no farther until you tell me where you are taking me.”

Senemut smiled broadly and pointed down. “Look. It is your temple.”

Hattie turned her head to follow his pointing finger and gasped. Backed up to an impressive bay of limestone cliffs, glowing in the rosy light of dawn, stood the partially completed expanse of her temple. Although much work remained to be done, it was an imposing, magnificent sight. A broad causeway led from the river across the valley to the temple. Three sphinxes flanked one side of the avenue, and workmen were hard at work on another of what was obviously a long line of the creatures. Two terraces were in place, with wide ramps leading up from one to another, and a third was under construction.

“Oh, Senemut,” Hattie breathed. “It is lovely. You are doing a wonderful job.” She had seen Hatshepsut’s ruined temple in the museum’s photographs, but nothing had prepared her for the breathtaking sight of it in person. “I see there is an easier path,” she added, indicating the sphinx-lined avenue. “But I am pleased you brought me this way. What a magnificent view!”

“You are not angry that I kept our destination from you?”

“Oh, nay. It is a wonderful surprise.” She smiled. “Tell me about it, please. How will it look when it is completed?”

“It will be the most imposing temple in all of Egypt! There, in the first court, will be a garden, depictions of the marshes of lower Egypt, and scenes of Your Majesty’s great obelisks for the temple at Karnak under construction,” he said, pointing. “The second court will illustrate to all who come the events surrounding your divine birth, and the great accomplishments of your reign.”

“Of course, it is blank thus far,” Hattie murmured.

“But not for long, little warrior.” Senemut grinned. “The south end of the second level will host a chapel dedicated to Hathor, goddess of love and music, on whose sacred site your temple is built. The chapel will include pillars capped with representations of Hathor and a hypostyle hall. And on the north end of the second level will be a chapel dedicated to Anubis.”

“The god of the dead?”

Senemut nodded. “The uppermost court will have statues of Your Gracious Majesty—” He bowed deeply. “—before each pillar. A peristyle court leads to the rock chapel dedicated to Amun. Also, we will construct chapels for you and your royal father.” He spread his arms to indicate the entire complex. “You are pleased?”

“I am awestruck,” she assured him. “How could I be anything but pleased with such a magnificent structure?”

“The work will not be completed for many seasons,” Senemut said, sighing. “But even a half-finished temple should have a name. Have you anything in mind?”

“A name?” Hattie closed her eyes and frowned. Had she ever heard a name for Hatshepsut’s temple? She wracked her brain but couldn’t remember one. The pictures she’d seen simply called it Hatshepsut’s temple. Aloud, she said, “I know not what to call it, but the name should reflect its purpose, should it not? The temple will be dedicated to several gods. It will list the accomplishments of my reign. Priests will perform sacred rites there. It will be holy ground.”

“Aye. It will be the holiest of the holies,” Senemut said, nodding. Then he opened his eyes wide. “Holiest of the holies…that is it, Hattie! We shall call it Djeser Djeseru. What think you?”

“I think it is perfect,” Hattie said, relieved. The name was unfamiliar but felt, somehow, right. “Can we get closer? I would like to see the artists at work.” She pointed to the scaffolding around the pillars on the middle terrace.

“Of course!” Senemut held out his hand to her. “The workmen will be most honored by your presence.”

She took his hand and, together, they started down the steep path to the temple.

Senemut led her to the foot of the cliffs. They walked up the sphinx-lined avenue, skirting sweating laborers who pulled and strained against the ropes around a giant limestone block, inching it toward the wall of the temple under construction. Overseers shouted directions and encouragement; women scurried here and there, dispensing water, bread, fish and dates. Hattie breathed deeply. The air smelled of stone dust, mud, and dried fish, and heat already rose in ripples from the ground. Closer to the temple, Senemut pointed out T-shaped pits being excavated. “Those will be reflecting pools, surrounded by gardens,” he explained.

He continued up the ramp to the court on the second level, Hattie close behind. There, a pair of colossal sphinxes was being carved out of red granite. “When the sculptors are finished, the sphinxes will be painted, as will those on the avenue,” he said.

“They are magnificent,” Hattie exclaimed, shading her eyes to look up to the top of the nearest one. She turned around in a circle. “And what is going on over there?” She pointed.

“The artisans are creating a series of reliefs illustrating Your Majesty’s divine birth,” Senemut said. “Would you like to examine their work?”

“Aye, I would!” She followed him to the nearest relief.

As soon as the workmen noticed Hattie, they fell to their knees, foreheads touching the dusty ground.

“Please rise,” she urged. “I have come to see the splendid work you are doing.” She walked over to a colorful, nearly completed relief of a pregnant woman in the company of two goddesses. “This is lovely! What does it represent?”

After a moment, a workman rose and approached her reluctantly, his gaze directed squarely at his feet. “Majesty, it is…it shows your royal mother, Queen Ahmose, being led into the birthing chamber by two goddesses who are there to witness your sacred birth.”

Hattie asked, “And can you tell me how it is done? I am something of an artist myself, so I would like to know. The craftsmanship is exquisite.”

The workman darted a glance up at her. She smiled encouragingly.

“First, Majesty, we chisel and smooth the rock walls,” he said, pointing to another area of the temple where the walls were still rough and jagged. “Then, the wall must be coated with a thick layer of white plaster.”

“I see,” Hattie murmured. “What comes next?”

“An artist draws the subject onto the white plaster, Royal One. When he has finished, a master artist corrects and adds details to the drawing.” He glanced up at her again and continued in a stronger voice, warming to his subject under her interested gaze. “Next, the sculptor chisels out the image, giving it depth and a lifelike effect. And finally, a master painter adds the colors and finishing touches.”

“So it is a group effort, is it not?” Hattie asked.

The workman beamed. “Aye, Your Majesty, it is. We are honored to work on pharaoh’s house of eternity, and we shall do our best to make it reflect your glory.”

“You are doing a wonderful job,” she said. “Please, do not let me interrupt your work any further. Thank you for educating me.”

Blushing, the workman retreated, bowing low as he went.

Hattie turned to Senemut. “It is very striking! I had no idea it would be so…so overwhelming in scope and design. You are truly a talented architect, Senemut.”

Senemut smiled. “It is my great honor and privilege to create a temple that befits Your Majesty in every way. As I said, it will take many seasons to complete.” He looked around and dropped his voice. “Once you are crowned pharaoh on New Year’s Day, you must begin your reign with a suitably impressive deed. Then the workmen can record it on the walls of your temple.”

Hattie’s stomach lurched and her smile faded. “Aye, I suppose you are right, though I know not what the impressive deed shall be.” For a few minutes, she had forgotten the reason this temple was under construction—and it had been the most carefree time she’d had in a long while. But now, the burden of assuming the crown settled onto her again.

Senemut had done his work well over the past year. He’d had inscriptions carved, arranged for Hattie to make temple dedications and have her royal father’s monuments restored, and lined up support of vassal states—with Nubia the first to fall in line, thanks to Hattie’s fair treatment of them after their uprising. He’d spoken the correct words in the proper ears, and won over much of the priesthood and the army. Hattie was amazed at both his ingenuity and his tenacity. He’d refused to give up until he had garnered support for Hatshepsut’s crowning from nearly every high official in the land.

Hapuseneb, the high priest of Amun, had selected New Year’s Day as her coronation day. Unlike Hattie’s images of New Year’s Eve at Times Square, the Egyptian New Year began in late June, when the star they called Sopdet rose just above the horizon at dawn during the time of the annual flooding of the Nile.

At first, Hattie chafed under the delay until the next New Year’s celebration. If she were forced to do the thing at all, she would prefer to get it over with quickly. But Senemut assured her it was both an auspicious and a practical choice, which allowed her regnal years and the civil calendar to coincide. “It is well,” he had commented, “to begin your new life as pharaoh on the first day of a new year, when the Nile overflows and brings us her bounty. The gods will bless your reign.”

Hattie wasn’t so sure, but she didn’t appear to have any choice in the matter. Once she’d suggested her accession to the throne would eliminate the threat against Tuthmosis, the decisions were removed from her hands. All she had to do was smile, follow Senemut’s suggestions, and await the inexorable progression.

Suddenly, Hattie was no longer interested in watching the work progress on her temple. “I have a headache, Senemut,” she whispered. “Please, take me home.”