The Double Crown: Secret Writings of the Female Pharaoh Read Free Page A

before,” said Inet. “I have seen it in big, strong baby boys who are very hungry. But you were the first girl child I ever saw who thrived on it.”
    “I was suckled by Hathor,” I said with satisfaction.
    Of course; it had to be true. When I ordered my temple to be built at Djeser-Djeseru, I had a record placed on the walls showing the cow goddess suckling me.
    “It was an omen,” said Inet. “I do believe that you will be under her protection all your life. The Goddess is tender as a mother in caring for those she loves, fierce as a lioness in defending them from danger and evil. She will keep her hand over your head.”
    Indeed, I have often felt the arms of the Goddess bearing me up. There have been times in my life when I felt that all my strength was spent; then I pray to Hathor, and she infuses me with new vigour. She watches over me.
    I reached out for more ink to begin recording the second of Inet’s tales. At that moment a shadow at the far end of the portico seemed to suddenly solidify. There was no footfall to be heard yet I knew that it was Khani, come to report to me. He is known to the guards and they let him pass.
    “Khani,” I said. “Come. I see you.”
    He walked quietly across the cool tiles with his characteristic feline lope and stood before me, his three cubits of powerful muscle, dark as polished ebony, blocking out the sun before he bowed.
    “Majesty,” he said, in his deep voice, the voice of a bard. “You have eyes in the back of your head.”
    “I have need of them,” I said. “And of more eyes scanning the kingdom on my behalf … Eyes that I can trust, such as yours, my faithful guardian.”
    “And you may require the support of Hathor also,” he told me. “Inet used to claim that support for you.”
    “And Inet was right,” I said. “I have indeed lived in the shelter of Hathor’s vigilance. My sister and two brothers have gone to the gods. But I, beloved of Hathor, I thrived. To this day I am strong and I am never ill.”
    “Indeed, Majesty,” agreed Khani. “You are strong.”
    There seemed to be reservations in his obsidian eyes.
    “What is it?” I asked. “You have bad news?”
    He would tell me, I knew, but in his own way. He would marshal his facts with care and tell me first only what he knew to be true. If there was gossip or speculation, he would report that also, but with a warning that it could not be substantiated. I rely greatly on his acute observations and intelligence.
    I sent the slaves and the guards away. Everyone in my household knows that Khani is to be trusted. He has been loyal to me ever since he was brought to the Kingdom of the Two Lands as a prisoner of war. Soon after his accession as Pharaoh, my late husband Thutmose the Second, may he live, received news of an uprising in Nubia. Naturally he could not leave the court and the capital when his grasp of the sceptre was so recent. He dispatched an army under the command of his most trusted general, who quelled the rebellion, killed many men and captured the ringleaders.
    They also captured Khani, a Nubian prince, son of the Kushite rebel chieftain, and brought him with the other captives to be paraded in the presence of the enthroned Pharaoh. The young prisoner was but one year older than I and I had at that time seen thirteen risings of the Nile. I can never forget that day when I stood beside my husband on a massive dais outside the administrative palace, facing the broad avenue lined with masses of people eager to see the victorious general, the great Ahmose pen-Nekhbet of el-Kab, ride into Thebes with the spoils of war. And the captives.
    As the general’s war chariot swept up to the dais, then those of the division commanders, followed by a mule train laden with Nubian gold gleaming in the sun, elephant tusks, ebony, and many bulging sacks filled with more booty, a huge roar went up from the watching crowd. The noise intensified when the soldiers climbed down to make deep obeisances