Above the Valley of the Kings there is a mountain shaped like a pyramid. Nobody built it.
The Egyptians looked at it every day for five hundred years and decided it was alive. They called her Meretseger, which means She Who Loves Silence, and they treated her with the care you give something that can end you.
THE MOUNTAIN THAT WAS A GODDESS
On the west bank of the Nile at Thebes, a limestone peak rises over the desert valleys where the kings of the New Kingdom were buried. Today it is called al-Qurn, “the Horn.” In ancient Egypt it was known as the Peak of the West, and a goddess lived in it.
She was a serpent. The images show her as a rearing cobra, as a snake with a woman’s head, and sometimes with three heads at once, one of them a woman’s. She was called Lady of the Peak and Lady of the West, and she was closely tied to Hathor, who in her western form received the dead into the land beyond the sunset.
Some scholars have suggested that the peak’s natural pyramid shape is one reason the kings of the New Kingdom chose this valley for their tombs. The great pyramids of the Old Kingdom had been robbed long before. A mountain that was already a pyramid, and already had a guardian, was a better idea.
SHE WHO LOVES SILENCE
The name is the rule. The Valley below her was a place where the dead were hidden and the living were not meant to talk about where. The tombs of the kings were cut into the rock in secret, decorated in secret and sealed. Silence was the first protection, and the goddess whose home overlooked the valley was named for it.
She guarded the whole necropolis, the royal tombs, the temples of the dead along the plain, and the people who worked among them. The Egyptians believed her venom struck anyone who violated the place. A guardian that commands silence and a guardian that kills are the same figure, seen from two sides.
THE VILLAGE UNDER HER PEAK
The people who knew the Valley best lived in a walled village in a fold of the hills called Deir el-Medina. They were the craftsmen of the royal tombs: the stonecutters, plasterers, draughtsmen and painters who made the burial chambers from the first chisel stroke to the last line of paint. In their own writings the village is “the Place of Truth.”
They knew exactly where the kings lay, and they lived under the mountain all their lives. They are the people we know Meretseger through. The village was inhabited for around four hundred years, from the 18th dynasty to the end of the 20th, and its houses, tombs and rubbish pits have given us a daily record of Egyptian working life that exists nowhere else: ration lists, letters, court cases and the first recorded strike in history.
And they left prayers to her, carved on small stone slabs called stelae, which they set up in chapels on the hillside.
THE COBRA THAT STRUCK
The stelae to Meretseger are remarkable because they are confessions.
A workman had done something wrong, or believed he had, and then something terrible happened to him. The villagers read illness and misfortune as the goddess’s answer to a wrong. So the man went back to her, admitted what he had done, and had it carved in stone so that everyone could read it, as a warning and as a thanks.
The texts speak plainly. They say the Peak strikes like a lion against anyone who sins against her. They tell the reader to be careful of her. One man says he was an ignorant fool who did wrong against the Peak, and that she taught him a lesson. The tone is not horror. It is the voice of someone who has met something real and wants you to be spared it.
THE SWEET BREEZE
The same stelae say something else, and it is the thing that makes Meretseger more than a monster.
When the man called out to her, she answered. One of the texts says that after she let him feel her hand, she turned back to him in mercy, and that when he called on his mistress she came to him as a sweet breeze. The goddess who struck was also the one who forgave, and the forgiveness was as real as the blow.
This is the Egyptian idea of justice on the smallest scale. A force that cannot be bribed and cannot be fooled, that punishes exactly what was done, and that gives mercy to anyone who admits it. The weighing of the heart in the afterlife is the same idea, on the largest scale. The Peak was where the village lived it.
THE GUARDIAN OF THE DEAD
The tomb robbers of the late New Kingdom were not stopped by her. The papyri record the great tomb-robbery trials of the 20th dynasty, when the royal tombs were being emptied, and the village itself was abandoned in the end. The mountain outlasted all of it.
But for the five centuries the village lived, the Peak was a presence over every workman who went up the path to the Valley each morning. She was the reason the work was done well, and the reason certain things were not said.
WHAT THE DESIGN CARRIES
The back print is her. A woman’s face, black-fringed and unsmiling, with kohl-dark eyes that look straight out. Around her face the headdress is made of oxblood bands and black scale, a serpent’s coils turned into a crown, and two small cobras curl at the base on either side. She is neither gentle nor cruel. She is watching.
The front carries the Eye in black ink, under a crest of red scales rising like the hood of a cobra. A small mark on the chest, so that whoever sees you from the front sees only that you are being watched over, and whoever sees you leave sees her.
WHAT MERETSEGER ACTUALLY MEANS
Most protective gods promise to keep harm away. Meretseger makes a different offer: she is the harm, and she keeps it for those who deserve it.
The Egyptians did not find that frightening. They lived under her, worked inside her mountain and slept in her shadow, and they thought the arrangement was fair. Do your work well, keep what you know to yourself, and do not take what is not yours. If you fail, tell the truth afterward, and she will come to you like a breeze.
There is a lot of modern life that would be better with a mountain like that.
THE NEOLITHIC CONNECTION
Meretseger belongs with the other keepers of danger in our Egypt Mythos collection. Guardian of Venom carries Serqet, the goddess who commanded the scorpion’s sting and guarded the dead. Sigil of Contained Chaos carries Seth, the power that guards the sun boat. Lighter Than The Feather holds the justice that every heart is measured against, and Names Outlive Time holds the fear of being forgotten.
The stories are here too: Serqet, Seth, the weighing of the heart, the Second Death and the Nile.
— Neolithic Store