Queen of the Heavens (22 page)

“Open it,” the Pharaoh said.

I did as he commanded. Inside was the gold Sekhmet with wings that Harenhab always wore around his neck.

“Your amulet,” I said. “It’s so beautiful.”

“It is also powerful, like the
ankh
. Give it to the child you are now bearing whom I know will be a son.”

“No, My Lord,” I protested. “It must be wrapped in the linen of your mummy with other amulets.”

“Do as I say, Tuya. It is for your son.”

I ceased my protest and felt honored. “I will give it to him when I begin teaching him of the Neters. He will learn to cherish it.”

“No. Sety might take the amulet. Give it to your son when he’s grown, at a time when he needs power the most. Promise me you will do this.”

“You have my promise, My Lord.”

Harenhab closed his eyes. “I’m tired my dear. You must leave me now so I can prepare for my journey.”

I did not want to leave, but this was the Pharaoh, and I could not disobey.

“Should I tell the physician to return?” I asked.

“No. Tell the guard to bring priests and priestesses so they might chant for me. The sounds will help to soothe my heart.”

I began to leave but found I could not. Instead, I placed my forehead on the bed beside the Pharaoh and cried.

Harenhab stroked my hair. “You make my soul’s departure more difficult. There’s nothing to fear, my dear. We’ll meet again.”

I regained my composure. “Yes, My Lord. You will be in my prayers,” I said, but Harenhab did not respond.

I contained my tears until I arrived home, then cried for quite some time. When the tears stopped, I found a hiding place for the amulet of Sekhmet deep in a chest containing clothing I seldom wore.

“You will be safe in here. Sety will never find you, and I will take this chest wherever I go,” I said to the goddess as I dug through the clothing and placed the box containing the amulet at the bottom.

I retired early and again cried until I fell into a sound sleep. I was awakened just before dawn, however, by a cool breeze sweeping through the room.

That’s strange
, I thought.
It’s very warm outside.

I felt my child move inside me and kick harder than ever before. “You are a strong one,” I said. “You’ll make a great warrior.”

The child settled down, the chill left as quickly as it came, and I fell again into a sound sleep.

The next morning, Sety entered my room as I was taking my morning meal. “My father sent word Lord Harenhab died during the night,” Sety told me.

“I know. When I saw him yesterday, I did not believe his body would survive to again see a sunrise.”

“He was a great Pharaoh, but I will be greater.”

“Lord Harenhab’s greatness resided in his compassion,” I said.

“Compassion will not destroy the Hittites.”

“No,” I said as I placed my hand on my womb, “but compassion made Lord Harenhab a very contented man.”

XXII

During the time the embalmers were preparing Lord Harenhab’s mummy for the journey up the Nile to Thebes, the child within me was preparing for its journey into the earthly realm.

I was confident I would deliver the much-awaited heir, but I also knew what would happen if I did not. With Lord Harenhab no longer alive to protect my position in the royal court it would be only a matter of time before Sety replaced me with one of his concubines.

“You have nothing to worry about,” Mother told me one day when I voiced my concerns to her. “Your child will be a boy. I’m certain of it. Then Sety would dare not dismiss you.”

“I believe I’ll give birth to the heir, too, Mother, but I still hold some doubts.”

“Be rid of them. From the time you were a child and began your healings I knew you were destined for great things. You’ll be Queen someday, Tuya, and your son will be Pharaoh. The gods have ordained it.”

Despite Mother’s conviction, and my own, I added to the number of prayers I said each day on behalf of my unborn child. I also recited the two-hundred spells that had been passed down through the ages to help guide the spirits of the deceased. In this way I could assist in the journey of Lord Harenhab’s soul, wherever it might be.

I began for the third time to feel the pain of childbirth in the early morning of the day when Harenhab’s funeral flotilla was to depart from Memphis. Mother was summoned from her home. Nebet and five other of my attendants were with me, as was a midwife and her assistant. The three priestesses with whom I performed my daily anointing ritual also were present. The priestesses lit incense made from myrrh and spikenard and chanted in a corner of the room.

The pain I experienced in the birthing ordeals with my dead son and Tjia was all but unbearable, but this time it was even worse.

“It will be over soon my child,” Mother said after I let out a scream of agony.

“Something is wrong,” I gasped.

“All is well, Tuya,” Mother assured me.

“No Mother,” I shouted. “All is not well. Sekhmet, take away my pain!”

My plea to the lion goddess went unanswered, and the pain increased. I tossed from side to side, causing Mother and Nebet to push on my shoulders to hold me down.

“Try to be still,” Mother said.

“I cannot bear it,” I shouted. “Sekhmet, give me strength and courage!”

With this second plea, the lion goddess complied. The pain was no less intense, but determination rose inside me that I would be as still as possible and endure whatever I must so I might give birth to a healthy heir.

When the child began to stir, Mother and Nebet lifted me up by the arms, but I was unable to get out of bed. Two of my attendants took my legs, and the four women carried me to the birthing stool. Mother and Nebet stood behind me, holding me steady as the child began its movement downward from my womb.

“Push harder Tuya,” Mother said.

I did my best to comply, but the pain was so great I felt powerless to do much more than endure. I sensed, too, the agony of the tiny being inside me. The light of the earthly realm was but a short distance away, yet the bewildered infant was trapped in darkness and I knew intuitively he was gagging and spitting and struggling for life.

“Push again, My Lady,” the midwife said. “Push as hard as you can for as long as you can.”

“Sekhmet be with me,” I cried out as I strove with all my might to force my child into the light of human existence. My effort was not in vain, and the child’s head emerged from my sacred place. I could feel the midwife gently pull the infant toward her. I sought to help by pushing again, but this time with no effect.

“The cord of life is around its neck,” the midwife said as she reached inside me with her fingers, which added to my agony. I gritted my teeth and sought to stay motionless as the midwife groped.

“I have it,” she said, then slipped the cord over the infant’s head. “The child is free. Push again, My Lady. Push.”

This time I felt the child move, and soon its whole body had emerged from within me.

“It’s a boy,” the midwife said in a subdued voice.

She lifted the child and slapped its bottom, but as with my first son there was silence.

“Douse him with water,” the midwife shouted to an attendant, who picked up a nearby basin and complied.

Once more, the midwife slapped my baby, but still there was no cry.

“He will not breathe,” the midwife said. “The cord of life has strangled him.”

Not again,
I thought.
Two sons dead. What have I done to deserve such a fate?

I heard Mother begin to sob in grief, but I felt no such emotion. Instead, I felt anger.

“No,” I shouted as loudly as I could. “Isis will not allow this to happen.”

I gathered every bit of strength left in me. “Soul, I forbid you to depart from this realm. Enter again my child’s body and give it life,” I commanded.

For a moment, there was silence. Then I heard a whimper, then another and another. Quickly, the whimpers turned into a muted cry, and soon my child let out the loud whine of a newborn.

“He lives. Your child lives,” the bewildered midwife said. “It is a miracle.” She handed my son to an attendant, picked up a knife and cut the cord of life that had come so close to causing my son’s death. “Wash him, wrap him, and return him to the Princess,” she said.

“Find a messenger and send word to the palace,” Mother told another of the women. “Have him tell Sety and Ramesses an heir has been born.”

Mother and Nebet helped me to my bed. I lay back, and allowed myself to savor the sweet sound of my son crying. I closed my eyes, and despite the pain I was still feeling, found I was able to smile. I had accomplished the task assigned to me by the Neters. I had given birth to the heir.

This was a joyous event that should have been met with chatting and good wishes by those around me, but save for the crying of my child the room was quiet. I raised my head and looked at those present. To my surprise, all except Mother had dropped to their knees in obeisance before me.

“Rise,” I said. “I have given birth to a son and you should rejoice.”

All stood up, but they did not seem happy. Instead, they stared at me with faces of stone.

“Why do they act this way?” I asked Mother.

“They’re bewildered. Your child was dead and you brought him to life. They are in awe of your power.”

“His soul brought him to life, not I.”

“Of course, my dear, of course,” Mother said as she took my hand and squeezed it.

The attendant returned with my crying son wrapped in linen and gave him to Mother, who cradled and rocked him in her arms.

“He has many of your features, Tuya, but his tiny bit of hair is red,” Mother commented. “It is the color of a lion’s mane.”

He will be like a lion and his foes will tremble before him,
I said to myself,
but unlike his father he will know how to love. I will make certain of that.

Nebet helped me to sit up and placed cushions behind my back. Mother handed me my son, whom I placed at my breast. He found the nipple and ceased crying immediately. I had given Tjia to wet nurses to suckle but I reserved solely for myself the task of nourishing the future Pharaoh.

After he had finished nursing, the infant fell asleep in my arms. I dozed off, too, but was awakened with a start as Sety with a small entourage of aides entered my bed chamber unannounced.

“Where is my son?” Sety asked in a tone that left no doubt the question actually was a command the child be brought to him immediately. Mother took the infant from me and walked with him to Sety.

“Cradle him gently,” she said as she handed the child to his father.

Instead, Sety held our son in outstretched arms.

“He is a handsome heir, Tuya. His red hair is the color of my mother’s. This will set him apart from other Egyptians. You have done well and I commend you for your persistence.”

“Thank you My Lord. It was my honor to serve you,” I replied, repulsed by my words. It was anything but an honor, but I had to maintain the appearance of a respectful royal marriage in front of all those in the room.

Sety lifted the infant toward the heavens and looked upward at him. “He will be named Ramesses after his grandfather. I offer my son to the gods, and ask they grant him protection and continue the dynasty through him.”

The infant began to stir and whimper. “The gods awaken you Ramesses,” Sety continued. “They will be with you throughout all your days.”

Sety lowered the newborn to eye level.

“Scribe,” he shouted. A gnome-like man sat down at a table, reed pen and papyrus at the ready.

“Send a message throughout the realm. Let it proclaim that I, Sety, heir to the throne of Upper and Lower Egypt, announce the birth of my son and heir Ramesses. I command all Egyptians to pray for his health and well-being and to honor the gods with offerings of the finest food and drink. Be joyous and celebrate, for the gods have blessed our beloved land.”

Ramesses began to writhe and cry. Sety looked intensely into the child’s eyes. “I will succeed your grandfather to the throne and if the gods are willing you will succeed me,” he said. “You will be a great Pharaoh, Ramesses, but it remains to be seen whether you will be as great as I.”

Sety gave the crying infant back to Mother. “I leave for Thebes immediately,” he shouted in my direction. “The child is yours, Tuya, until he reaches the age when he is strong enough to draw a bow and steer a chariot. Then I will shape him into a warrior. Care for him well, and allow no harm to come to him.”

“Yes, My Lord,” I replied as my husband and his entourage exited the room.

Weakened by childbirth and the draining ordeal of being in the presence of Sety, I was barely audible as I said to Mother, “Tell all present to leave.”

“Be gone,” Mother said to the women. “Tuya wishes to rest with her son.”

Holding Ramesses in my arms, the two of us drifted again into a light sleep for I know not how long. I was awakened this time by the sounds of gongs and wails of grief coming from outside.

“What is the commotion?” I asked Mother.

“Crowds gather at the riverbank,” Mother said. “Lord Harenhab’s procession passes by.”

“I must see. Help me up.”

Mother assisted me to a chair on the terrace, which overlooked the Nile. I sat down, holding the sleeping Ramesses in my lap.

The gold coffin containing the Pharaoh’s mummy rested on a canopy- covered catafalque in the middle of a small golden boat. The prow and stern of the vessel curved gently skyward then toward each other in a crescent. The royal boat, powered by a rectangular sail and fifty oarsmen, towed the funeral vessel. The great boat had carried Harenhab when he was alive, and now carried Ramesses and Sety in royal elegance. Twelve smaller boats followed in a line.

Thousands of Egyptians gathered on the banks of the Nile to bow for one last time to their deceased ruler, whose mummy would be placed in a tomb built years before in the arid valley on the west bank of the Nile across from the great temples of Thebes.

Tears formed in my eyes as I remembered the confident and powerful, yet gentle man whom I loved so much. “Farewell my dear Lord Harenhab,” I whispered. “May your virtues be with my son.”