Queen of the Heavens
Read Queen of the Heavens Online
Authors: Kingsley Guy
Tags: #New Kingdom, #Tuya, #Sekhmet, #Ramesses II, #Hint-mi-re, #Ramesses, #Amun, #Sun-Sentinel, #Pharaoh, #Sety, #Horemheb, #Horenheb, #ancient Egypt, #Seti I, #Ramesess I, #Egyptian history, #Isis, #Haremhab, #Thoth, #Osiris, #Sety I, #Nile, #ancient Egyptian history, #19th dynasty, #Neters, #Queen Tuya, #Egypt, #18th dynasty, #Harenhab, #Thebes, #Golden Age of the Pharaohs, #Neteroo
Contents
Queen of the Heavens
Kingsley Guy
Copyright
All Rights Reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in any part or in any form.
Copyright © 2012 by Kingsley Guy
KINDLE Edition — Made in the USA
To my father, J. Trevor Guy, who encouraged me to explore the world.
Acknowledgments
Writing a book is a lonely endeavor, but not a solitary one. To the following people, I extend my gratitude: author, journalist and friend John Dolen, for his input into the manuscript, and for piquing my interest years ago in discovering the reality of another reality; author Melissa Applegate for leading an expedition up the Nile that confirmed many of my assumptions about ancient Egypt; Richard F. Ott, MD, and journalist and playwright John deGroot for our many hours of arcane discussions; yogini Devi Hart for providing me with insight into the spiritual nature of the ancient Egyptians; Tim Dodson, wordsmith extraordinaire, for his editing assistance; author and former editor of the
Sun-Sentinel
Gene Cryer for his advice and counsel; and author and writing instructor Joyce Sweeney and members of The Thursday Group, whose support and expertise proved invaluable.
Queen of the Heavens
Kingsley Guy
I
“Tuya, you are alive!” Mother exclaimed as she rushed to my bed, pulled my head to her breasts and stroked my hair. Mother’s words surprised me. Save for a ravishing hunger and deep thirst I felt fine, indeed blissful, for I had been to a majestic and magical place.
“May I have something to eat and drink, Mother?” I asked.
“Bring my daughter bread and lamb and water, quickly,” Mother shouted to a servant in an adjacent room. “We were so worried about you, my child.”
“Why?”
“Don’t you know? Of course you wouldn’t,” Mother said. “For three days you lay in bed motionless as if in death. The first day we summoned a physician. He clapped his hands by your ears but you would not move. He waved a candle in front of your open eyes but you did not see the flame. The physician poured tonics into you but they did not help. The second day, a priestess anointed you with oils and chanted over you to drive away the demons, but you would not stir.”
“Demons? There were no demons.”
“We believed you would die,” Mother continued. “Your father was about to make arrangements with the embalmers to prepare your mummy for the tomb. I was about to notify the relatives so they might come to our home for a death vigil and pray for your soul. Now you have returned to us. The gods have blessed this family.”
“I wasn’t ill, Mother. I was in a wonderful place,” I said. “It was so peaceful and there were so many things to see. The houses and temples were beautiful and those who live there were kind to me. I even saw Sekhmet and Thoth and Isis.”
“What?” Mother asked. “You saw these divine beings?”
“Yes, and others, too. A man with the head of a crocodile played with me. He was so gentle, even though he could have snapped my head off.”
“You must have been imaging this, Tuya.”
“No Mother, I wasn’t imagining it. I was there.”
“Of course, my child,” Mother said as the servant brought my meal on a tray and set it on a table by my bedside. “Rush to the palace,” Mother told the servant. “Find a soldier and have him tell Raia his daughter has awakened and she is alert and in good health.”
Mother handed me the plate of bread and lamb. “Eat, then rest, Tuya.”
“I don’t need to rest. I want to find my friends at the riverbank and tell them where I’ve been.”
“No, my darling.” Mother said. “You’ll stay here. I want to make certain you’re well and strong. If you fall down by the Nile then a crocodile that’s not so gentle might truly snap you head off.”
“I won’t fall down,” I protested.
“You’ll do as I say,” Mother commanded. “For now, you’ll play with the cat here at home. You can play with your friends when I’m sure you are well.”
I ceased my protest, for I knew continuing it would do no good. Mother’s mind was made up.
After finishing my meal, I got out of bed to look for Neferaba, who was black with white paws and friendly. I found him sleeping behind a chest in the corner of the room. I petted Neferaba for a while, then got a wooden ball and rolled it across the floor. He chased it and hit it with his paw. We did this for quite some time, but eventually the cat tired of me and left, so I found my wooden dolls. At eight years old, and nearly nine, I was at an age when I was losing interest in them, but at least they would not leave me.
My dolls were special. Unlike my friends dolls, they had real hair attached to plugs that stuck into their heads. They made a small family just like mine, with a father, a mother and their young girl child. The little girl had black hair, olive skin and high cheekbones, just like me. Before, when I played with the dolls, I always pretended I was the child. Now that I was older, I sometimes pretended I was the mother.
Within but a few years this would be so. My friends spoke with great excitement about marriage and motherhood and I looked forward to this time also; I longed for a husband and children with whom to share my love. Yet deep inside, I knew something else awaited me as well. I had no idea what this might be, and I spoke of this to no one, but I sensed my destiny would unfold far differently than the destinies of other Egyptian women.
My play was disrupted when Father walked through the door.
“Tuya my child,” he exclaimed. “It’s true. You have awakened.”
I ran to Father, who let out a grunt as he lifted me in his arms.
“You’re getting heavy, Tuya,” he said, smiling at me. “I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to pick you up.”
“For a long time Father. You’re so strong,” I said as I threw my arms around his neck.
Indeed, he was. As as a high officer of chariotry in the Royal Guard he was expected to be strong and fit. He commanded soldiers at the palace in Memphis who protected the Pharaoh and those near to him. This was not a responsibility for the weak and infirm.
“Tuya looks wonderful, Ruia,” he said to Mother. “It is as if she had not been sick at all.”
“I wasn’t sick, Father. I don’t know why you were so worried. I was in such a beautiful place, with Sekhmet, and Isis and…”
“What?” Father said, looking at Mother.
“She told me the same thing,” Mother replied.
“Do not joke about this, Tuya,” Father said sternly as he set me down. “You are speaking of the Neters who must always be treated with respect.”
Father’s admonishment hurt me. “I’m not joking,” I said through a pout. “I was with them and they were kind to me.”
“I believe she’s telling the truth, or what she believes is the truth,” Mother said. “Tuya has always been a good girl who never tells lies.”
“Lies?” I shouted as tears formed in my eyes. “I’m not lying. Why won’t you believe me?”
“I do believe you, Tuya. I just said I did,” Mother responded, “but the story you tell is so fantastic. Did you really meet these Neters or did you just imagine you were with them?”
“I really met them.”
“She did seem near death for three days. It was as if she were not in her body,” Mother said to Father.
“This is beyond my understanding as a soldier,” Father replied. “Tomorrow we’ll talk to a priest. Surely he’ll know what happened.”
The next morning, Mother, Father and I rose early and prepared to set out for the great Temple of Ptah, the divine architect of the Cosmos from whose mummy-like form other gods arose. Ptah was the most revered god in Memphis, and his temple was not too distant from our home. Father dressed in a kilt and cloak and wore his sword. Mother wore a pleated dress and frock, a black wig and fine jewelry. I was reaching the age at which I could no longer go naked everywhere, so I wore a dress with straps and jewelry, too.
As we walked from the house, we came across a group of men toiling in a field. “Good morning. How are the crops?” Father said to the man watching over the others.
“The wheat crop will be very large, and the onion and barley crops quite sizable as well,” he answered. “The high flood this year was a great blessing.”
The man was an overseer employed by Father to tend to his substantial land holdings and direct the peasants as they worked. While Raia held an important military post, he was not of the exalted rank that would provide him with so much property. The lands he inherited from his father, who had inherited them from his. Mother also had inherited some fields farther to the north. Peasants worked Mother’s fields in exchange for a share of the crops. While our wealth paled in comparison to that of the Viziers and noblemen, we lived comfortably. Servants washed our clothes, prepared meals for us and kept our house neat and clean, so Mother and I never had to soil our hands with labor.
