The high priest of the temple, Ptahmose, stood at the edge of the Nile, a well worn leopard skin draped over his muscular shoulder covering half his chest, and exposing the rest of his sun browned flesh. He bowed deeply as the family walked down to the temple steps. Ptahmose was an uncommon man, he held the offices of High Priest of Amun, Vizier to the Pharaoh and Mayor of Thebes all at once.
"Em hotep nefer weret, em hotep my dear friends!" the chief priest called out, his voice strong and full of warmth. "My heart fills with joy to gaze upon you again so soon, and on such a happy occasion."
"Em hotep, dear Ptahmose." cried out Tiye joyfully as she took his offered arm. Her children followed along behind and greeted Ptahmose warmly, saying words of peace.
"Come, come. Do come with me. We are all awaiting your arrival. Your brothers Anen and Ay are already here, my Queen, as are your parents and the rest of the royal family. Amenhotep, son of Hapu is here, Paatenemheb, Horemheb, Maya and many others.
A barge of lesser royals and nobility from Per Hay soon arrived behind the royal barge. Huya, the steward of Queen Tiye led the procession from the secondary boat.
The crowd around the temple cheered at their arrival, they leapt up, they sang and shouted. Children were placed on shoulders to get a better view, or pushed to the front of the crowd to hold flowers up as offerings for the princesses, throwing the wreaths at their feet as they walked past.
Everything was orchestrated to portray the royal family as powerful and potent. Music was perfectly timed, flower petals thrown at precise times. Drums beat in sync with footsteps, the procession was almost a dance.
The Queen led the way down the road lined with stone rams, her children followed behind flanked by nobles and officials. Sitamun's stomach churned. The moment was approaching, and she couldn't wait to catch a glimpse of Pharaoh, but her visage betrayed nothing. She was beauty and grace incarnate, as celestial and maternal as Hathor herself. Behind the royal party a crowd of priests, musicians, dancers and attendants lined up to follow making up a procession of over fifty people.
Karnak had been decorated with such splendour that on approach even the royal family were impressed. It surpassed the grandeur of the Opet Festival a few months before, and an energy of excitement passed through them.
Fragrant yellow and white flowers were scattered over smooth stone steps and up the path that led into the grand temple. The boat boys threw ropes onto the harbour into the hands of waiting attendants to tie the barge down.
Braziers of incense were lit on either side of the grand walkway below the feet of stone rams and the heady fragrance of exotic smoke wafted upwards in the gentle breeze. The frescos on the columns and walls of the temple had been retouched with fresh paint of red, blue, green and gold so they looked especially vibrant for the festival.
As they entered the temple they were shaded by stone columns and strips of white linen which hung from the temple walls, billowing gently from the Nile breeze. The heady scent of frankincense, myrrh and blue lotus filled their nostrils as they passed offerings on the temple floor laid down at the base of every statue. They passed Osiris, Isis, Horus, Amun Ra, Hathor, Sekhmet, Sobek, Seth, Ptah, Nekhbet, Nephthys, Nut, Shu, Tefnut, and Anubis, all dressed in their finest clothes for the special day.
Fat holy monks bowed solemnly to the family as they passed, their shaved heads gleaming with oil.
"This way to the stadium, my Queen." Spoke Ptahmose, directing them through the temple. "The crowd today is unlike any I've ever seen."
"Have my guests from Mitanni and Babylon arrived?"
"Yes, Great Lady, they have been in Thebes since yesterday evening. Worry not, they have been afforded every pleasure and every comfort."
"How did they seem?"
"Charming, your majesty. Exceedingly well. They long to see you, they speak so highly of your friendship."
"Good." Tiye nodded. "And Pharaoh? How fares he? Have you seen him?"
Sitamun listened closely behind them.
"Huy has informed me that your husband is well. Pharaoh has fasted and purified himself for the rites. Peace to your heart, Lady of Two Lands, today will be a perfect day. This way, everyone is waiting through here."
Ptahmose directed them towards an extraordinarily grand stadium that had been erected for the event. There was the chatter of ten thousand voices all around as the high priest led them through a dark passage towards a private box within the stands. Smiles immediately lit the faces of the family as they saw Mutemwiya, Pharaoh's mother along with Yuya and Thuya, parents of Queen Tiye sitting in the royal box. Cheers came from the crowd as they observed the Queen, the princes and all her daughters enter the box.
"Sister!" exclaimed Anen, the favourite brother of the Queen. He rushed over to embrace her, along with all her children.
"Anen, so good to see you." She responded fondly before greeting her oldest brother. "Em hotep, Ay. So good to see you."
"Good to see you, sister." Ay replied, embracing her and all the children in turn.
"Is that my Sita? My ibib!" Thuya, Tiye's mother, exclaimed as she hobbled over to greet her favourite granddaughter.
"Em hotep, mother of my mother." Sita kissed her aged cheeks as her grandmother clutched onto her for balance with her wrinkled hands and bony arms. Sitamun walked with Thuya over to Yuya who was still getting up from his chair. "And em hotep to you, father of my mother."
"Em hotep nefer weret Sitamun, and all my daughter's children." Yuya croaked, his rough face prickling her cheek. He greeted all his grandchildren in turn, first Sitamun, then Hotep, then Djhutmose and all his sisters. "Come and sit by your mother's father, Hotep. I've saved a seat for you, khered."
"Em hotep ibib Djhuti, ibib Iset, ibib Henu, ibib Nebet." Mutemwiya greeted her favourites, crooned over them, stroked their faces and handed them sweet honied cakes.
The family soon settled down after saying all their greetings, excited and ready to watch the games.
Queen Tiye, princess Sitamun and crown prince Djhutmose sat in the seats of honour. Henuttaneb and Nebetah sat with their cousins, the children of Anen and the children of Pharaoh's brothers and sisters. Iset sat herself beside her dearest friend, daughter of Ptahmose, Nefitiri, a priestess of Isis.
"Nefi, Lady Isis lifted her veil to reveal a dream to me last night, I must tell you all about it."
"You were blessed again, Iset?"
"Yes, I wanted to tell you as soon as I woke, but I'll tell you after the games and then you can tell me if you understand it any better than I."
"I doubt that, but I will listen to you always." Nefi whispered, taking Iset's hand in her own, before turning her eyes towards the stadium. "Father will open the festival soon, I expect."
"Em hotep nefer weret!" boomed Ptahmose, standing atop a podium in the box. "People of Khemi, people of the Upper and Lower lands, people of the river, people of Ra, people of Reth, Aamu, Nehesu, Themehu, and to all our guests, welcome. Em hotep to you all!"
The crowd cheered in response.
"We are here today in adoration of Amun-Ra as he rises from the eastern horizon, who rises, who shines as king of the gods, and Ra in his rising will imbue our Pharaoh with his great strength. As Atum in his beautiful appearance, rises, shines as the day breaks, Amenhotep, our lord and father!"
At his words Amenhotep III entered the stadium dressed in his ritual attire, his arms outstretched towards the people, his skin anointed with holy oils, his arms bound in gold and his shendyt had a jackal's tail attached to the back which hung down from his waist.
Sitamun leaned forwards to look closely, her heart in her throat, the rest of the crowd lost themselves in excitement. Women threw flowers and a few people even fainted at the sight of their living God.
Djhutmose looked closely at his father, he looked a little older around the eyes since last he saw him, with more lines around the mouth, but still strong, still proud. He remembered a story his old mentor, the previous high priest of Ptah, had told him. Long ago in ancient times the Heb Sed festival was a ritual murder of the Pharaoh once he was deemed too old to rule, named after 'Sed' one of the ancient jackal gods. The priests of the jackal would place the Pharaoh on the dais, gather around and stab him with sacred blades, one by one. As the jackals reclaim the flesh of the fallen to make room for the new, so we did too in days long past, to ensure the strength of the nation. Devouring the weak to make room for the strong. As Apep devours himself, as the serpent swallows his own tail, everything in the universe goes round and round, as the sun journeys into the west and returns in the east, we feast on ourselves, but those were the old ways. Those times were forgotten, and maybe they were just stories. It was hard to say, for those tales date back from before the first dynasty.
Djhutmose had told Iset the story when she was a girl, and he revealed a dark secret, even though the Queen had told him not to scare her, that in the inner sanctum of the Temple of the Jackal, they ate the flesh of the Pharaoh, for to eat the flesh of a God is to imbibe powerful ancient magic.
Now, and for the last two thousand years, the festival was about the renewal of the physical and supernatural energy of the king. The priests would say the words, the spells would be recited, it would be recorded on the walls and it would be as they say it would be. It will be written, and so it will be true.
Pharaoh will run alongside the bull, shoot his bow, puff out his chest and make a show of it. It will be easy, too easy, thought Djhutmose to himself.
"Hail Per-a'a Amenhotep, make way for him in his rising, as you sail the heavens our hearts are elated." Ptahmose announced.
"I have come before you as Lord of Two Lands, Atum Ra Horakhty. Bull of the West! Say I to the King of Eternity, come forth. I am the Lord of Protection. I have fought for you. I am one of the gods!" Amenhotep III spoke in a deep musical voice that carried its way up the stadium.
The Apis bull of the ritual was led into the stadium by a procession of monks.
"Bull of the West, one without blemish, one without a single white hair, one who is black as Khemi, black as the earth after the waters of the Nile, fertile after flood. Bull with seal set upon your brow, I know you, I know your name, I name you Apis." Pharaoh continued.
