Death of a Pharaoh (35 page)

He paused for a
breath then continued, “You put on your loin-cloth, and your panther skin, and
the girdle with a jackal's tail. You advance with your two vessels to capture
the blood, you slaughter the bull, you board the boat Uatch-An, in all your
forms, in all your places. Your mace is at the head of the living, and thy word
is at the head of the Spirits. Anpu, God of the region of the West, and
Antchet, who is at the head of the nomes of the East, make offerings to you and
of the things that are yours. Hail, Pepi Nefer-ka-Ra, you are now a counterpart
of the gods your brethren. You veins run with the fluid of life on earth. Dress
as a god when you come before them."

He repeated this
prayer four times as the door to Fannie’s crypt slowly opened. The room already
contained personal objects from Fannie’s apartment in Philadelphia to accompany
her in the next life. Before her death, she selected her favorite items. Six
assistants carried her coffin into the crypt and attached the cables that would
maintain her body in a state of permanent cyber preservation.

Ryan placed her
crown as well as the crock and flail given to her at her coronation on top of
the coffin. He stood with his head bowed to say goodbye to the woman he had
never met in life but who he had now empowered to guide him from the other
side. Absolute silence shrouded the crowd as if they collectively held their
breath. Ryan slowly backed out of the crypt with his head bowed. Two assistants
closed the heavy doors and locked them with solid chains. A priest approached
carrying a small pot of melted wax that he poured into a round wooden form.
Ryan then affixed the Great Seal.

The priests, the
helpers, Mariam and the guards departed leaving Ryan alone with his
grandmother. The torches began to extinguish one by one; a slow motion farewell
imbued with unbearable poignancy as the encroaching darkness seemed to amplify
everyone’s loss. Ryan picked up a small broom and methodically swept away all
the footprints in the sand then began his withdrawal, head bowed, back bent,
erasing his own steps as he went. When he reached the door and brushed away the
last imprints of his sandals the final torch extinguished as if Osiris had
blown it out himself. No one moved. They were all riveted to their seats,
overwhelmed by the beauty of the evening. Fannie had been a great Pharaoh and
now she was where she truly belonged.

Princess Eshe Hotel, Coronation Day, November 14, 2016

After the powerful Opening of the Mouth ceremony, Ryan disappeared. He
slept in the Temple of Ma’at accompanied only by the two priests who would
purify him for the coronation. In the morning, they shaved his head, bathed him
then anointed his body with special oils. The rules forbade him to speak to
anyone. Astronomers choose the day of his coronation according to the position
of the moon. It only passed over a secret spot directly above the coronation
chamber a few nights of the year. Most would consider a cloudy night a bad
omen. The forecast called for clear skies.

That morning, some
of the guests went sightseeing while others gathered around the pool both to
combat the heat and to soak in the atmosphere that surrounded historic events
like a British Royal Wedding or an American President’s inauguration. There was
much commentary about the dignity and splendor of the previous night. It was
unanimous that Ryan had equated himself exceptionally well. The presence of
Mariam at his side during the ceremony elicited many fervent wishes to see them
standing together again for a happier occasion. No one close to the Pharaoh
ever mentioned the subject in public but it was widely accepted that they were
in love and the Servants of Ma’at seemed delighted with the possibility.

It was already
dark when the guests, save Susan and Alex, made their way through the
underground tunnel to the Coronation Room. The same van took Ryan’s high school
friends for another tour past rows of date palms and houses they couldn’t see.
Even the oldest members of the Royal Council who had attended Fannie’s
coronation, were enthralled by the extraordinary decoration on the walls and
ceiling of the chamber cut deep into the side of a hill. The greatest
attractions of Egypt paled in comparison and it made everyone wonder what the
palaces and temples of the ancients must have looked like when they too were
new.

Mustafa proudly
led a tour explaining the significance of each panel, the countless hours of
painstaking work and the number of artists he had employed in the pursuit of a
backdrop suitable for the crowning of both a king and a God. The invitees
agreed he exceeded all their expectations.

The lights blinked
to signal that the guests should take their seats. After a moment of rustling,
the room plunged into darkness adding drama to the already considerable
tension. A flourish of trumpets seemed coordinated with the lights that grew in
intensity to reveal a golden throne surrounded by great bouquets of exotic
flowers. An honor guard carrying long spears trooped in to the sound of drums.
A servant followed with a peregrine falcon on his arm. He placed it on a golden
perch. There was no tether. The bird represented Horus, God of the Living
Pharaoh and if it flew away before Ryan was crowned it would be a most
inauspicious sign.

Susan read the
explanation in the program and mentally willed the creature to remain where it
was.

Another fanfare
announced the arrival of the Pharaoh. Everyone rose and knelt on one knee or
bowed. He was accompanied by Herbert Lewis as Lord Vizier and a beaming Zach as
a witness. Ryan was dressed only in the pleated kilt. They had shaved his head
bald and the dark kohl around his eyes accentuated the dramatic impact. He
looked calm and smiled at Mariam in the front row. Everyone took their places
as they had rehearsed earlier in the day.

A program
explained the prayers and chants just as the night before. Alex noted that
there were far fewer pages. The priests circled around Ryan four times
purifying him with water from the Nile. Herbert Lewis presented him with the
Shemset apron and an assistant tied it around his waist. Next, Zach stepped
forward and handed him a leather belt with a bull’s tail attached on the back
to signify strength. As Lord Vizier and in the absence of Ryan’s father, it was
Herbert Lewis’ honor to present him with the crown. A ripple of excitement ran
through the crowd when an assistant brought out the red and white Pschent or
double crown, representing both Lower and Upper Egypt. Herbert took it in his hands
and held it aloft as he prayed to Lord Horus to protect his new brother. Ryan
bowed his head and Herbert slowly lowered the crown. The falcon stretched its
wings almost as a sign of approval.

Ryan turned to
face the crowd. Herbert presented him with the crook his grandmother had left
for him then Zach brought the flail. They both belonged to the great Ramses.
Standing there in his crown with all his regalia, Ryan certainly looked
majestic.

Someone shouted,
“Long live the Pharaoh!” and the guests repeated it back in a mighty roar. The
participants gathered around the Pharaoh bowed their heads and withdrew. Ryan
stepped forward and crossed his arms. The lights dimmed plunging the hall into
darkness until a small hole began to open in the ceiling admitting a sliver of
silver light that grew until a ray of moonlight surrounded Ryan in a luminous
circle. The effect was breathtaking. Then the most extraordinary thing
happened. Ryan held out his right arm and the falcon opened its wings and flew
to his offered perch. Half the audience gasped. Even the Gods, gathered
together in their Great Chamber for the occasion burst into applause. Horus
himself cried tears of joy.

At that exact moment in the vault, deep beneath the sands of Timbuktu,
a message magically appeared on the papyrus, “Long live Nkosana I, True Pharaoh
of all Egypt, Defender of Ma’at, Champion of the Oppressed, Brother of Horus,
Son of Pariacaca and Beloved of Osiris.”

I
n the Coronation Chamber, a round of
applause started to build until it reached a deafening crescendo. The crowd
leapt to their feet in a wave of joy and tears of happiness stained virtually
every cheek. Ryan stood immobile and drank in the rapture of his subjects. The
falcon on his arm cocked his head to the right as if listening for a silent
command and then to the astonishment of everyone he spread his wings and took
off.

He glided over the
audience so low that many crouched to avoid his great talons. He banked to the
right in a wide circle then flew directly toward the ray of moonlight in time
to snatch a scroll just as it fell through the hole in the roof. No one could
believe their eyes. The majestic raptor soared back to Ryan’s outstretched arm,
landed in a flurry of flapping wings then waited patiently for the newly
crowned Pharaoh to take the missive from his beak.

Zach
and Herbert stepped forward to relief the Pharaoh of
the crock and flail. The falcon flew back to his golden perch as if he obeyed a
script that only the two of them understood. Ryan broke the seal and unrolled
the papyrus. A great hush fell over the room. He first read it in silence. It
contained a message in an elegant script.

“The beginning of
your rule marks the end of All Reigns, only you will find the courage to invoke
the First Protocol. It is your shared destiny, my beloved son.”

Ryan didn’t
understand the message and he handed the scroll to a startled Herbert.

The Lord Vizier
read it then turned to the audience.

“In the name of
the Supreme Council of the Gods, Osiris sends his paternal love and admiration
for his son Nkosana. Long live the True Pharaoh!”

Ryan grabbed the
scroll again and to his astonishment, it now read exactly what Herbert had just
communicated to the crowd.

He closed his eyes
and the original text remained seared in his memory. He knew it was a message
meant only for him but who had sent it and who was the other person whose
destiny he shared? A nagging suspicion suggested that he had met him in the
cloister of Poblet two days earlier.

Vignettes of the young Pharaoh’s life decorated the ballroom of the
hotel in a series of giant posters. Susan contributed a photograph of the
infamous library detention gang. Zach added a picture of their jail cell, while
David sent over a montage of a young Ryan at several karate tournaments. His
adoptive parents forwarded some impossibly cute snapshots of him as a baby.
Alex wanted to include some risqué shots from a wild Halloween party they all
attended in high school but the organizing committee balked. Behind the head
table there was a large portrait of Ryan in full regalia taken earlier in the
day just before the coronation. On the right was his grandmother in the same
serene pose as the one used for the Opening of the Mouth ceremony. A stunning
likeness of his mother from before he was born, hung on the left. The
resemblance was remarkable. It was an intimate and moving photographic tribute
to a family born into greatness yet marked by tragedy.

The guests began
to arrive; many still shook their heads in disbelief over the divine
interventions in the Coronation Chamber only an hour earlier. Two historians of
the Servants of Ma’at in attendance could not remember an enthronement where
the Gods had manifested their affection and support in a physical manner. The
anecdotes of the falcon and the scroll would surely be commented among them for
years to come.

Ryan could barely
believe what had happened himself as he sat in his suite making the last
changes to his speech for the banquet. Herbert Lewis had provided a good draft
with a regal tone and important elements of protocol but in view of the
extraordinary events, he preferred to add a personal touch. It was his first
major speech and a recording of his words would become an official document in
the Royal Archives. He had to remember that everything he said or wrote was now
a matter of state and would be preserved for posterity. The realization didn’t
make his task any easier. Zach dropped by to see how he was doing.

“Everyone is still
flipping out over the bird and the message from heaven,” he assured his friend.
“How did you do that?”

“Damned if I
know,” he replied honestly, “it wasn’t in the script.”

“You mean it
wasn’t planned?”

“I swear,” he
promised, “I’m as freaked as the rest of you.”

Zach whistled in
amazement. “Do you get to keep the falcon?”

“I guess so.”

“Cool,” he
exclaimed looking very jealous, “and oh, I’m supposed to let you know that you
have to be outside the ballroom in twenty minutes.”

“OK, let me make a
few more changes in my speech,” he requested. “I’ll see you down there.”