Orphan of the Sun (29 page)

The members of the
kenbet
appeared first. Sennedjem led the way, followed by the other four – Paser, Montu, Amenakht and Hori. But instead of sitting as they usually did, they stood in a row to greet the vizier, the second most powerful man in the whole of Egypt.

There was a hush as the procession reached the square. First came the horn-blowers on foot, followed by fan-bearers and a small troop of the vizier's personal guards. Next came the vizier's chariot, pulled by two magnificent horses and driven by the great man himself. Two high officials rode in plainer chariots behind him, and were followed by an entourage of lesser officials on donkeys.

The horses and chariots came to a halt, and a murmur rippled around the crowd, for such a sight was to be marvelled at. The vizier's chariot was lightly built and partially gilded; the panels were covered in delicate carvings, painted in brilliant colours and inlaid with precious stones and glass. It was one of the most splendid objects to have ever reached the walls of Set Maat, but the villagers were equally impressed by the finely bred horses, who stood with their necks arched and their nostrils flaring.

The guards took hold of the horses and the vizier stepped down, raising his hand in greeting. The villagers gazed at him in awe, for this was a man who knew what it was to stand in the presence of the king:
surely his face must shine from the splendour of it? His gaze was majestic, taking everyone in as his officials joined him, and the guards led the chariots and donkeys out of the way. Two fan-bearers stepped forward to shelter the great man, their fans made of the most enormous feathers that Meryt had ever seen.

‘They are from the ostrich bird,' she heard someone whisper. ‘The king's men hunt them in the Red Land. Just one of their eggs can feed the whole of the king's court.'

Meryt was staring at the feathers, trying to imagine the bird they came from, when Kenna nudged her and nodded to one corner of the square. There stood Nebnufer and Wab, standing quietly with Dedi and their sons behind them. A Medjay guard stood discreetly to one side; and Meryt was glad that Nebnufer was being allowed his dignity, at least.

The vizier greeted the members of the
kenbet
, who all bowed low before him. Then he walked slowly to an ornate wooden chair in the centre of the court area with his fan-bearers behind him. His entourage of scribes and judges were taken to plainer chairs on either side, while the
kenbet
of Set Maat sat right at one end. When everyone was settled, Sennedjem rose to his feet, bowed low before the vizier once more, and began to speak.

‘My lord the vizier – life, prosperity, health!' he began. ‘We have requested your presence to find justice in our village, which has hit upon troubled times. The foreman Nebnufer, appointed by your
predecessor eleven years ago, has been accused of stealing government supplies and of mismanaging his men. On the latter charge, we did not find him guilty. The charge of theft is a serious one, and this we hand over to you.'

He turned to the Medjay guards. ‘Bring out the evidence and the witnesses.'

Sennedjem sat down and the vizier settled back into his chair, stroking his chin, as the chief of the Medjay police force carried forward a linen bag. He bowed, then opened up the bag and laid out an array of brand-new copper tools, which glinted in the light of the sun. There were chisels of several sizes, ranging from the largest used by stonecutters for hewing out the tombs from the rock, to the finest used by sculptors to define the delicate lines of reliefs; hammers and adzes; and two fine carpenters' saws. The chief of the Medjay held up each in turn, pointing out the special government seal that had been stamped on to the copper.

‘The seal of the Great Place,' he said solemnly each time, handing them to the vizier one by one. The vizier nodded, clearly growing impatient as the police officer went through the bag methodically until there were no tools left.

At last the chief had finished, and stood up straight to speak. ‘My lord, my men found these tools in the storeroom of Nebnufer the foreman,' he said. ‘As you know, tools such as these have no place in the village. They are delivered directly to the Great
Place for their consecrated use in the tombs. We arrested Nebnufer at once.'

He bowed again, then picked up the tools and stepped back into the crowd.

‘The next witness!' called Sennedjem.

It was Userkaf himself who stepped forward. He bowed lower than anyone, and took the liberty of looking around at the crowd before beginning to speak. ‘My lord the vizier – life, prosperity, health!' he boomed. ‘I am a draughtsman on Nebnufer's gang and I have suffered for many years. He drives us hard. Not only this, but he does not abide by the rules of
maat
. He is dishonest and punishes us for no reason. Men on the other gang are given the freedom to look after their sick and to worship their gods on feast days, but we are always forced to work. And our work is made harder in the tombs when he refuses to replace our worn-out tools. He makes the Guardian of the Tools hold them back until the ones we are using have no life in them.'

Meryt felt winded at the audacity of this man who could stand before the gods and his fellow workmen and tell such blatant lies. But Kenna leant towards her.

‘It's true, you know,' he whispered. ‘Nebnufer will never change the tools when he's asked to. That's what Father says.'

Meryt was horrified. Surely Kenna did not believe the words of the draughtsman? She stared at her friend as Userkaf finished his speech.

‘And so,' the draughtsman concluded, ‘I for one
am not surprised that tools have been found in the foreman's home, for no doubt he uses the surplus for his own ends.'

He bowed again with a flourish, then stepped back to make way for the next witness. Meryt's mouth was dry. She watched dumbly as five more of Nebnufer's gang stepped forward and confirmed what Userkaf had said. Finally, a male servant from Nebnufer's own household stepped forward. He bowed before the vizier twice, as though to make sure he had done it correctly.

‘My … my lord. Life – life, prosperity, health,' he stuttered, his gaze fixed firmly on the ground. ‘I … am a servant of the foreman Nebnufer.' He hesitated, and seemed tongue-tied, transfixed by the enormity of the occasion. As his silence continued, people began to mutter, and someone laughed.

‘Speak, man!' cried someone from the back of the crowd.

Titters rippled around the square, and the chief of the Medjay shifted, frowning.

The servant coughed. ‘I saw my master with … with the bag of tools,' he muttered, so quietly that he could barely be heard.

For the first time, the vizier spoke. ‘Stand tall. Look the crowd in the eye. Repeat what you have said,' he ordered.

The servant jumped nervously, and pushed back his shoulders. ‘I saw my master Nebnufer with the bag of tools,' he said, his eyes wild as he surveyed
the crowd. ‘In … in the house. Near the storeroom. I saw him with it in his hand.' He held his own hand up, as though to show how Nebnufer had looked. Then he clamped his mouth shut and gazed at the floor once more with his hands behind his back.

‘Is that all?' asked the vizier.

The man nodded. Meryt felt anger rising inside her.
Bribes, bribes, bribes,
she thought to herself; but there was nothing she could do.

‘Let him go,' said the vizier, with a sigh.

The servant scurried off, and the next man to stand was Sennedjem. ‘That concludes the evidence, my lord,' he said. ‘But Nebnufer himself wishes to speak.'

The crowd was still as the foreman stepped forward. After a deep bow to the vizier, he went over all that he had expressed before the
kenbet
: his appointment by the former vizier, his faithful service to the government, his belief in fairness and
maat
for the men. ‘I do not encourage my men to be wasteful,' he acknowledged. ‘If there is still life in the tools, then I insist that they use them. It is too easy to blame a blunt tool for idleness.'

There was a murmur among the workers in the crowd, and Meryt sensed anger in their midst. She began to see that Nebnufer did not have goodwill on his side. Userkaf and his followers were muttering, but she knew that not even the likes of Kenna's father liked to be accused of idleness. The grumblings grew louder as Nebnufer tried to carry on.

‘Quiet!' cried the chief of the Medjay.

‘As for the bag of tools,' said Nebnufer, when the hubbub had died down. ‘I have no need of them. I have a farm in the valley where I smelt tools of my own. Recently I held a party for my men, and I believe the tools were brought into the house on that night.'

The grumblings began to rise again as Nebnufer spread his hands before the vizier. ‘That is all I have to say, my lord.'

Nebnufer retreated back to Wab's side and the vizier looked across at Sennedjem.

‘These are all the witnesses, my lord,' said the second foreman. ‘The case is complete.'

The vizier frowned. ‘Is no one going to speak in favour of the king's foreman?' he asked. ‘He has served for eleven years. Are there no witnesses who can answer for him?'

Meryt felt her limbs begin to tremble. Where were Kha and Nofret? She looked around, scanning the crowd, but there was no sign of either. Had her plan completely failed? Perhaps she should stand herself, and tell the court what she knew … She swallowed as Sennedjem spoke.

‘My fellow foreman has been my friend and ally all these years,' he said, his voice tinged with sadness. ‘I believe him to be a good and honest man. But in the matter of these tools I cannot speak, for I know nothing of them.' He scanned the crowd, his expression hopeful. ‘People of Set Maat, you hear what the
vizier is asking. Is there no one who can defend the man accused?'

Kenna looked at Meryt in amazement as she began to rise to her feet. ‘Meryt …!'

But then she stopped, for out of the corner of her eye she saw a movement – a man, elbowing his way forward. She breathed a sigh of relief, for it was Kha.

‘Workman Kha,' said Sennedjem in surprise, as the painter made his way into the square. ‘What do you have to say?'

Kha bowed both to the foreman and the vizier. ‘My lord the vizier – life, prosperity, health,' he started. ‘I come with a confession and a plea for forgiveness from the gods.'

Meryt held her breath until she thought her lungs would burst.

‘What Userkaf says is true,' continued the painter. ‘Nebnufer works us hard and does not like to supply us with new tools. The Guardian of the Tools is forced to listen to him and we resent his interference. But that is where the truth of his story ends.'

There was a gasp as the crowd took his words in. Meryt saw Userkaf exclaiming angrily to his friends, but the chief of the Medjay called the court to order.

Kha carried on. ‘For many months there has been a plan to usurp Nebnufer. One man has been at the heart of it, and that is Userkaf.'

Another gasp. Meryt let out her breath slowly, for she could hardly believe that her plan was beginning to work.

‘Those who did not agree were bought by Userkaf with bribes. He has promised much and given much, though I cannot name the source of his wealth. All I can do …' he paused, and looked around, beads of sweat standing out on his face. ‘All I can do is tell you the source of the tools. I know that Nebnufer did not steal them. The thief was Userkaf. They were placed in Nebnufer's house on the night of his party – as Nebnufer has claimed.'

The words hung in the air amidst a thick silence. Kha's confession was sensational, and even the vizier now sat on the edge of the seat.

‘And how can you be sure of this?' asked the vizier. ‘How do you know that they came from Userkaf's house?'

Kha looked as though he might topple over. He wiped his forehead. ‘May the gods and the king forgive me,' he murmured, and touched the amulets that he wore around his wrists. ‘I know, my lord, because I fetched them myself.'

This time his words were met with a roar, and Meryt felt faint. She had been wrong. She had made a mistake. She had misinterpreted her dream for she had never, ever anticipated this. She closed her eyes for a moment, thinking of the night of the party. Kha had been there at the start with his wife … he had brought her the cup of water … and then … and then he had disappeared …

She opened her eyes again as the vizier's voice spoke above the crowd. ‘Tell us more of the bribes,' he said.

‘I received nothing,' said Kha. Meryt breathed out. So she had been right about that, at least. ‘I wanted Nebnufer gone and I was happy to see Userkaf replace him. But I did not want to anger the gods by taking a bribe, for I felt that the wealth on offer was tainted. But Userkaf demanded an act of loyalty. So I carried the tools to Nebnufer's party while Userkaf caused a distraction.'

The vizier's eyes were blazing. He stood, and the crowd grew quiet. ‘Villagers of Set Maat!' he cried. ‘I have never heard of such corruption in your midst. And yet perhaps there is more. Perhaps there are many who have accepted a bribe. But if there are bribes, the wealth must come from somewhere.'

He gazed around at the crowd, raising his hand and pointing at random villagers, who quailed and looked away.

‘I know where it comes from.'

The thin, small voice seemed to rise in the air from nowhere.
Who said that? Where?
could be heard around the crowd, but Meryt already knew. She looked straight at the thickest part of the gathering, which was slowly parting to reveal a small, cowering figure. It was Nofret.

Userkaf gave a bellow from the sidelines. ‘
That
useless scrap of a servant!' he screamed. But he was helpless to stop her now. The Medjay held him back as she walked forward timidly to stand in front of the vizier.

At the sight of the scrawny twelve-year-old girl, a silence fell. The court officials stared at her in disbelief, though none seemed more amazed than the vizier himself. Without a bow or a greeting, she launched into a speech.