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Ramose’s Office, Egyptian Military Academy, Inebu-Hedj

May 1484 BC

Senenmut paused in the door to the Dean’s Office, Egypt’s Military Academy. The Dean sat at his table, reading. Noticing Senenmut’s presence, uplifted eyebrows preceded the Dean’s lifted head.

            Senenmut answered the eyebrow’s question, “Father, I need to book passage to Waset for an interview for tutor to the princess.”

            Ramose’s body tensed, his face hardening, his voice demanding, “No! Don’t go.”

            Senenmut, impassive, stepped forward, handing a papyrus sheet across the table.

 

Amose Pen-Nekhebet, the tutor to Princess Neferure, is on his deathbed. Queen Hapshepsut requests Senenmut’s presence to interview for his replacement.

           

            Ramose first noticed that the Queen’s counselor signed the note. Digesting the two sentences, his lips pursed, then exhaled in surrender, “You’re right. This is a command, not an invitation.” He held up his finger, forcing his son’s attention. “I know I’ve said this before. Now that it is not hypothetical, it bears repeating. There is a reason the Academy is in Inebu-Hedj, five hundred miles from the capital. You are going to the Pharaoh’s court in Waset, Egypt’s political bulls-eye. There are only two reasons to go there: money and power. Money is the root of all evil and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Fifty aristocrats with varying degrees of familial ties to the Pharaoh are continuously vying for power. The court is cutthroat. You have no political training or experience. If you stay in Neferure’s nursery, you will not mix with the court’s movers and shakers. You should be safe. Beware going beyond that.”            Senenmut’s shoulders raised, “But, Father, it’s my chance to make a name for myself.”

            Ramose cocked his head. “What will a name bring you? Enemies are more powerful than you are. When you were eleven, those three older students spent months harassing you. Eventually, they pushed you down and kicked you. I ejected all three that day.

“The three fathers stormed into my office demanding I reinstate their sons. I showed them the Academy rules prohibiting their behavior. The penalty was ejection. They did not care. Their sons were aristocrats, and you were a commoner. That excused their son’s behavior. I refused. They went to the Pharaoh to demand he dismiss me. One was the Libyan Army Commanding General. Pharaoh backed me, dismissing the General from his post on the spot. It was only because I had Pharaoh’s backing that I survived. Without that, I would have been dog meat.

“Let this be a lesson. Egyptians think we are ordinary commoner technocrats. That protects us. Aristocrats do not allow any breach into their closed society. They inherit position and power, and they zealously control it as a god-ordained right.

            “But this assignment isn’t hereditary.”

“That won’t matter. We are Hebrews; Egypt is not our home. We are sojourners; strangers in a strange land. As technocrats, we are safe. Aristocrats earn their glory by hiring superior technocrats. We do the work; aristocrats get the glory. The second you get glory, you put a target on your chest. If you get glory, you are buzzard meat. The aristocrat who should have gotten that glory will cut your heart out.”

            “But I can earn titles and wealth.”

            “How would a fat purse compensate for your life? No, son. Go with my blessing. However, go with wisdom and caution. Keep your head down. Don’t become noticed at court.”

            Senenmut left his father’s office shaking his head.


Queen’s Audience Chamber, Waset

June 1484 BC

 

            Queen Hatshepsut stationed herself on her throne. Her svelte body displayed a twenty-three-year-old woman’s physique in beauty’s prime. She was five-three; but tall women had been common in Pharaoh Ahmose’s bloodline for four generations. Her coiffured black hair glistened from reflected window-light, her poised manner displaying assurance and control.

A guard ushered Senenmut into Her Majesty’s presence. At five-feet eleven, he towered over the guard. His upper body revealed the muscular chest and arms of professional soldiers. A one-inch vertical lilac-colored stripe sewn to the edge of his wrinkle-free shendyt kilt was his sole affectation. Approaching the dais, he bowed. “Senenmut, your Royal Majesty.”

            Hatshepsut, looking past his physique, unconsciously blurted, “Where did you get red hair?” Recovered her regal tone, she continued, “Sorry, people have probably asked that a hundred times. I have never seen someone with red hair before.” Only after recovering composure did she realize he had blue eyes.

            “It is all right, Majesty. I am used to it. However, I do not know where our red hair comes from. Red hair appears in our family every few generations.”

            “Thank you, Senenmut. I’d like to ask some questions to discover your breadth of knowledge.” She switched to Western Semitic. “Are you ready?”

            He answered in kind, “Yes, Your Majesty, I’m ready.”

            She switched to Eastern Semitic. “Have you been on any diplomatic missions?”

            He answered in Eastern Semitic, “Yes, Your Majesty. I accompanied your father and mine in Nubia.”

            She switched to Nubian, “So you were there when the army razed Kerma?”

            He answered in kind, “Yes, Your Majesty, I was Captain of Archers for that battle.”

            She reverted to Egyptian, “You speak our principal ally’s and enemy’s languages. Do you speak others?”

            He continued in Egyptian, “Yes, Your Majesty, I also speak Algerian and Mittanian. It is necessary to know your enemy’s language so you may question their captured officers.”

            “My daughter Neferure will become Queen and God’s Wife of Amun. The next pharaoh will marry her. What does that mean?”

            “Your Majesty, to explain its meaning, I will need to give you the long answer. Before writing, a time so long ago legend has lost the details, our people lived in a Sahara filled with lakes and streams. Women, not men, led us. Each leader was both Pharaoh and High Priest. The gods blessed these women with divinity and gave them the land of Egypt. Succession of leadership and the land went from mother to daughter. The legend says you always knew the mother, but could not be certain of the father. That is why only the women’s children inherit divinity. If a divine father wants his son to be divine, he must marry a divine woman.

“But duties of both Pharaoh and High Priest proved taxing, so one pharaoh transferred control of the secular state to her brother, keeping her religious duties. Your Majesty, you are God’s Wife of Amun; the most important person in Egypt. More important than pharaoh. Your daughter Neferure will be God’s Wife of Amun after you. He who would be pharaoh must marry God’s Wife of Amun. Egypt belongs to her, not him. That is its meaning.”

Hatshepsut kept a straight face. She had not heard of this legend. Did it reflect reality? I must check with the priests. From his matter-of-fact tone, he believes I already know. If true, I should know, but do not. How does this commoner know more about history and religion than I do? He is a soldier, not a priest.

Hatshepsut continued, “One last question. What is the difference between men and women?”            “Your Majesty, this is a question better asked of Amun. However, I will give you my limited understanding. From a boy to an old man, a man never changes. Yes, a boy cannot father children; that happens only at puberty when his voice deepens and he grows a beard. If you castrate a man, he will revert to being a boy. A man is simply an older boy. A woman is different. When a girl grows breasts, she can bear children. Remove her breasts and she can still bear children. She can never revert to being a girl. When she lays with a man, she changes again. She changes when she bears her first child. Her last change is losing the ability to bear children. Thus, she goes through five stages, and she can never revert to an earlier stage. She never loses the girl within her, but she can never revert to being that girl. This is the difference.”

Who is this man? He is intriguing. My question had many answers precisely because I wanted to discover his depth of knowledge. However, he did not give an answer from knowledge; he answered from wisdom. I have never met so young a man with this depth of wisdom. Many regard him as one of the three wisest men in Egypt. One question remains: can he teach a young girl or can he only talk to adults?

“Let’s visit my daughter, Neferure.”

Hatshepsut’s Captain of the Guard interrupted, “Your Majesty, do you want him to carry his throwing knives into the nursery?”

“Throwing knives?” she asked.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the Captain replied, “He always carries a knife on each hip, and he consistently scores in the top five in the army in throwing competitions. We can always monitor him in your presence, but he will often be unguarded with your daughter.”

Without asking, Senenmut reached for the hilts at each side, withdrew the knives from under his kilt and offered them to Hatshepsut.

Hatshepsut waved her hand. “No. He is not a security risk. Allow him to keep them. At worst, he will offer added protection for Neferure.”

Hatshepsut led Senenmut and her guards to the children’s nursery. Opening a door, there was a girl of perhaps six or seven - she had both front teeth - on the floor playing dolls with one of her nurses. She looked up, her face beaming, “Mommy.” She jumped up and ran into Hatshepsut’s arms.

After a hug, Hatshepsut took her hand, and they turned to Senenmut. “Honey, I’d like you to meet Senenmut.”

He dropped to one knee, so he looked level with her eyes. “I’m glad to meet you. I have heard so much about you. May I ask you a question?”

She nodded.

“Your mother is thinking about adopting me. Would you like an adopted uncle?” He raised his eyebrows into a question.

“I never had an uncle. I only had a cousin, Amenmose. He died.”

“I could be your uncle in his place, but only if you want one. Would you like an adopted uncle?”

“I think I would. You are much nicer than the son of my cousin is. He’s mean and nasty.” She turned her head, looking at her mother, “Mommy, could we adopt Uncle Senenmut?”

Hatshepsut had been following the conversation. She noticed Senenmut go to one knee. This meant he was not looking down at her, softening any imposing feelings for a child who does not know you. Next, he asked her what she wanted; he did not tell her what she would get. That gave her a feeling of power and removed any residual anxiety the child might have felt. Yes, if he could gain her daughter’s trust in their first minutes, her last questions dissolved. “Yes, honey, we can adopt him.” Turning to look at Senenmut, she asked, “You’re now her adopted uncle. When can you start?”

“Well, I’m a bachelor and I brought my belongings.” He nodded his head at Neferure, “and I think I’ve already started.”

He turned to Neferure. “If I’m your favorite adopted uncle, you need to know my nickname.” He leaned over, put his hand beside his mouth and whispered, “Kyky.”

Her eyebrows shot up in amazement. “Your nickname is ‘monkey?’”

“Yes,” and he reached up to grab a lock of his hair, “It’s because of my red hair.”

“Is it real?” she asked.

“Yes, would you like to feel it?”

She nodded, tentatively touching it, running her fingers through his hair.

He waited a few seconds. “Now, if you’re going to adopt me, I’ll need to know your nickname.”

She puffed out her chest, “Mine’s Tahemet.”

‘Queeny,’ fitting nickname for a princess, he thought. “I think that’s a great nickname.”

“Would you like to play with me?”

“I would love it,” he replied. Turning to look at Hatshepsut, he asked, “Do you mind?”

Hatshepsut smiled. “No, it pleases me. Come see me when you get a break. We have to talk about what I’d like her to learn.” She nodded to one of her guards. “Stay with him and lead him back.”

The guard answered, “Yes, Majesty,” and moved beside the door.

Tahemet took Kyky’s hand and led him to her dolls. Both sat cross-legged on the floor.

As the door closed behind Hatshepsut, she heard Senenmut say, “Now, you need to introduce me to your dolls. What are their names?”

Hatshepsut thought, He is one of the most intriguing men I have ever met. She carried a smile on her face to her audience chamber.

 

Three hours later, Neferure, Senenmut and her nurses had finished lunch, and it was time for Neferure’s nap. The guard was escorting Senenmut to see the Queen. Senenmut was thinking, I am accepted. I am important. I have broken into the royal coterie. I have created my destiny. I will get a title. I have arrived.

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