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They saw first-hand the mural depicting Hatshepsut’s expedition to Punt. The relief of the travels of the Pharoah’s high official, Pa-nahsy, as her representative to the foreign land. It was unclear from the artifacts whether Hatshepsut herself went on the trip.
On the second level, they also viewed many references to Hatshepsut’s right-hand, Senenmut.
Historians speculated that he was the architect of the Mortuary Temple, as well as many of her grand building projects. He held some ninety-three titles, including the most prestigious, Great Steward of Amun.
In the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, early historians put forth that Senenmut was the real ruling force behind Hatshepsut. That she was merely a figurehead. For, it was a given that a female couldn’t possibly have accomplished such a prosperous, expansive, and successful rule. Hatshepsut’s achievements would rival even that of Ramses the Great.
Impossible. Only a male could demonstrate the level of leadership required.
Now, as society’s view of women changed with the times, accepting that any limitations were put there by external forces, not intrinsically due to gender, the long-dead Pharoah got back the credit that had always been hers with widespread public acknowledgement.
The latest theories purported that Senenmut and Hatshepsut might have been lovers, given how often they appeared together in reliefs and how important he was to her reign.
The three treasure hunters viewed a wall mural depicting a woman wearing royal regalia bent over at the waist while a naked man with an erect phallus came up behind her.
“Those horny Egyptians,” Ere smirked.
Some historians theorized that the mural could have been about Hatshepsut and Senenmut. Others felt there was nothing concrete to suggest that the Pharoah and her steward were lovers.
The painting could have been of any royal and her lover. It was unclear, even, if the person bent over was actually female, for the chest was modest.
In addition, Hatshepsut had always been a priestess of Hathor, the goddess of love, beauty, music, dancing, fertility, and pleasure, as well as the protector of women. The relief could have simply been a nod to Hathor and the sexual love for which the popular goddess was a patron.
Thus far, based on everything Ben knew, he made no assumptions about Hatshepsut and questioned all “facts” accumulated about her. He would make his own deductions according to what he discovered.
One thing he was certain of: the greatest female Pharoah of Egypt had many secrets.
“Well, I don’t see anything untoward,” Ere announced after scrutinizing all of the walls, floors and ceilings of the last shrine they visited at the temple.
He held torches which he lit with dragonfire, both to save phone battery and also to show off for Sorin.
Of course, the phoenix arguably had even more tricks up his sleeves as far as light and fire were concerned, but still the warrior indulged his Mate’s little demonstrations with eyes full of affection and shimmering with humor.
Ben took one of Ere’s torches and looked up at the ceiling filled with midnight stars.
It never ceased to amaze him how creative and innovative ancient peoples were. Of course, he learned from his time travel back to the rule of Dark Ones that immortals brought far more advanced technologies, knowledge and magic to human civilization throughout history. But mortals did just fine without them, with imagination and ingenuity.
“Wait,” Ere said, squinting up at the same ceiling.
“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”
Ben looked over at him and stared back up. Sorin did the same.
“What are you seeing?” he asked.
“Could be just a trick of the light,” Ere mused, “but those stars seem to be swirling tighter in concentric circles over this spot.”
He looked directly down at the stone floor he was standing upon.
“And is it just me, or do you also see the slight unevenness of the stones that shows a circular depression?”
All three of them stepped back and gathered around the area while Ere maximized the brightness of his torchlight with a light breath.
Indeed, Ben could see an almost invisible depression in the floor. The hair on his nape tingled with awareness.
“A secret tunnel?” he murmured.
“If so, we have to find the lever to open it,” Ere whispered back.
