Orphan of the Sun (9 page)

Baki was at last asleep, with Tia on the floor beside him. She had fallen asleep where she sat, kneeling by the side of the bed with her head resting on her arms. Meryt tiptoed past Senmut and Nauna, both snoring in the middle room, and out into the street.

Although it was the last day of the weekend, many of the villagers were already awake, taking advantage of the cool light of dawn. As Meryt headed south, workmen on donkeys trotted past her on their way to tend fields in the valley, servant girls walked sleepily towards her to start their monotonous job of grinding the grain, and the more diligent women were sweeping the street outside their houses.

Suddenly, Meryt stopped. Just up ahead of her, the wiry figure of Nofret appeared from a side alley. Her head was bowed and she turned south towards the gate without seeing Meryt. With a little skip, Meryt hurried after her to catch up.

She touched the servant girl on the shoulder. ‘Nofret.'

Nofret spun around, her eyes wide with fear.

‘It's only me,' said Meryt gently. ‘I wish you no harm. May I talk to you?'

The servant girl recoiled from her, her shoulders tense.

‘Please,' said Meryt. ‘You can trust me, I promise.'

Nofret said nothing, but fell in beside Meryt as she carried on walking towards the village gate. Once they had passed through it, Meryt stopped.

‘Where are you going?' she asked. ‘To the embalmers' workshops?'

Nofret nodded.

‘Which way? Over the mountain?' Meryt indicated the route through the eastern cemetery where the two girls had met before. This time, Nofret shook her head.

‘You don't need to go that way because today you have nothing to hide.' Meryt's words were more a statement than a question. The servant girl nodded, and bowed her head.

Meryt studied her. She knew that the burden of secrecy was a heavy one, and sensed that Nofret might be ready to unload it. ‘Come with me,' she said gently. ‘Dawn has only just broken. You have plenty of time. I am going to make an offering at my father's tomb.'

Nofret looked anxious. ‘I can't …' she began.

‘Not for long,' Meryt reassured her. ‘It will be quiet in the chapel courtyard. Come.'

The servant girl hesitated. But then, as Meryt started up the path that led to the western tombs, she began to follow.

Meryt walked west towards the cliffs, where the villagers' tombs formed a large, sprawling cemetery across the lower slopes, their little pyramid-topped
chapels dotting the limestone hillside. Unlike the disused eastern cemetery, this one was well maintained, for each tomb was assigned to a living family. She took a little path that led south-west, then stepped into one of the chapel courtyards.

Nofret paused at the entrance.

‘It's safe here,' Meryt told her. She felt a pang of sadness. ‘Hardly anyone visits. Most of my relatives are dead.'

Nofret sidled into the courtyard and joined Meryt where she was crouching down in the first patch of morning sunlight. The two girls faced east, soaking up the warmth.

‘At least you have some relatives,' said Nofret quietly.

Meryt looked at her, the meaning of her words sinking in. Nofret was a servant girl, bought by Userkaf for a quantity of grain. It was a harsh fate. Girls with families did not become servants to be bought and sold like animals. ‘Do you know what happened to yours?' she asked.

Nofret nodded. ‘My father was caught thieving. He was beaten savagely and sent to work in the stone quarries, far to the south. I don't suppose he lived long. After that, my mother was forced to become a servant. We were separated when I was five. I had a younger brother too. I don't know what happened to him.'

She said all this so calmly that Meryt was astonished, and she blurted out the first thing that came
into her head. ‘Your father went through all that – and yet you are stealing yourself!'

‘Don't say that.' Nofret's voice was sharp.

Meryt frowned. What did the servant girl expect her to say? Thieving from the royal embalmers' workshops was madness. ‘Look,' she said. ‘I saw the amulet with my own eyes. You cannot deny it, Nofret. Is it your master, Userkaf, who demands that you steal?'

Nofret shook her head vigorously. ‘No! No …'

‘You would do better to admit the truth,' Meryt pressed her. ‘How many more have you stolen?'

‘What is it to you?' cried the servant girl, her eyes flashing defensively. She scrambled to her feet. ‘You can prove nothing. And in any case, you will soon be stuck with Ramose for a husband and the curse of Sekhmet on your head. Why should you care?'

Meryt leapt to her feet and faced her. ‘
What
did you say?' she demanded. She was taller than Nofret and towered over her, shaking with rage. ‘Who told you this?'

Nofret backed away a few steps, her eyes filling with fear once more. Meryt moved quickly and barred her path. ‘
Who?
If you don't tell me I shall come with you to the embalmers' workshops and tell them what I have seen.'

Nofret's shoulders dropped in defeat. She shrugged. ‘It's no great secret. Nes told me,' she said. ‘Do you think that servants never talk among themselves?'

Meryt let out her breath slowly, remembering
Baki's taunts of the day before. The Nubian servant Nes had been sitting there quietly all the time, grinding the grain, taking everything in. It was a sobering lesson.

Folding her arms, she looked at Nofret coolly. ‘And you think I wield the power of Sekhmet,' she said, a slight threat in her voice. ‘Perhaps it is time you showed the gods greater respect. Your father's fate was mild compared to what they can bring upon you.'

She expected the servant girl to quail before her, but now, Nofret's attitude seemed to have shifted. She narrowed her eyes and gave a little smile. ‘You wouldn't dare curse me,' she said, inching around Meryt towards the exit.

Meryt snorted, and let her pass. ‘I hardly need to,' she retorted. ‘You are doing enough for the gods to curse you of their own accord!'

As Nofret bounded down towards the main path, Meryt sat down in the patch of sunlight to think. The servant girl baffled her. On the one hand, she was the weak, timid creature she had always been. But on the other, she had a streak of something else – something fearless, sly, and full of defiance. It was strange. She had said that she was not stealing for her master, Userkaf, which was only natural; she would be terrified of admitting such a thing. But to deny it with such craftiness did not add up. Could it be that the servant girl wanted to harness the power of the amulets for her own purposes?

It was impossible to work out. Meryt sighed, and thought of her other discovery: that gossip about herself and Ramose was spreading through the village like wildfire, at least among the servants. It wouldn't be long before everyone knew. The thought of her friend Kenna flashed into Meryt's mind and her heart filled with anguish. How would he respond? Would he be sorry to lose his childhood friend or happy to see her married off? If only she could prevent the whole thing …

Well, she had to try. She picked up the basket containing her offering and stepped towards the chapel of her father's tomb.

Chapter Five

The chapel was a lovely little place, its mud-brick dome decorated inside with pictures of Meryt's great-grandfather greeting the gods and tending a vineyard in the Next World. As well as a house, each worker in the Great Place was also allocated a tomb, and as long as men apprenticed their sons those tombs remained within a family. Now, Peshedu's line had ended, for Tia and Meryt didn't count. Without an apprentice to hand it on to, his tomb would soon go to someone else. Tia would eventually lie alongside Senmut, and Meryt … well, there was no saying what would happen to her.

But for now, Peshedu lay undisturbed somewhere beneath the chapel, the tomb entrance sealed and hidden so that no one could break into it. Meryt stepped reverently to the chapel threshold and looked inside.

She gasped. There, on the chapel altar, lay a fresh offering. Figs, a fresh lettuce and two loaves. Meryt sniffed the air, which still held the faint smell of incense, and stepped inside. As far as she knew, the
only person who made regular offerings to Peshedu was Tia. But Meryt was sure her aunt had not visited the tomb in the last two days – Tia had been totally absorbed by Baki's ritual! And besides, the loaves were not as she or Tia made them. Meryt's heart began to beat faster.

She held out a trembling hand and picked up the lettuce. Its leaves were still crisp. She put it down and gently pressed one of the loaves. Her finger left a deep imprint in the soft bread. Whoever had been here had visited in the last few hours – probably late the night before.

Meryt took a deep breath. Such offerings were not made lightly. There were few villagers who could afford to give away much of the food they ate. So there was someone who had enough of a connection to her father to give him some of their freshest goods … and Meryt had no idea who.

She searched her mind for an answer, but drew a blank. It was a total mystery. Eventually, she moved the offering carefully to one side and reached into her basket. She fetched out the pomegranate and the loaf and placed them on the altar. She prepared the incense in the burner, then placed the straw in a heap and quickly produced sparks with the kindling sticks. From her little straw fire, she lit the incense.

‘Peshedu, blessed spirit of Re – life, prosperity, health,' she began, swinging the incense. ‘Hear your daughter's prayer. These are troubled times. I may be forced to marry the stonecutter Ramose against my
will. I have asked for help from the goddess Hathor but she has sent me only one dream. In this dream, you guide Ramose away from me towards the Great Place. Father, what does this mean?'

She fell silent for a moment and stared at her offering, imagining her father enjoying the ripe pomegranate in the Next World. Then she spoke again.

‘Peshedu, blessed spirit of Re – life, prosperity, health. Tia says you plague the family and that she has no peace from you. Father, why should this be? I believe you were a good man, and I have been a good daughter since you left us for the sacred barque of Re. I have served Senmut and Tia well and done their bidding. Please answer my prayer.'

As she prayed, the rays of the sun reached the chapel door and inched towards the altar. Meryt stared at the patterns formed by the smoke dancing in the sunlight, then gazed at the stranger's offering – the lettuce, the figs and the two fresh loaves. ‘And who has been here before me?' she murmured, as the last of the incense burnt out.

By the time Meryt left the chapel, the whole of the western cemetery was bathed in morning sunlight. She walked down to the village slowly, swinging her reed basket, watching the comings and goings from the southern gate. As she reached the road, one of Kenna's brothers came out of the village on his father's donkey. He trotted past her with a smile and a wave, calling that he was off to do a little moonlighting in an official's tomb.

Meryt waved after him, then turned back to the gate. She didn't see the woman in front of her.

‘Careful!' the woman cried out as Meryt jogged her basket. It fell, its contents spilling on to the road.

‘Oh! I'm sorry –' Meryt hurriedly crouched beside the woman to help her pick up everything. She stared at what lay on the ground. Plants of all sorts, flowerheads and seeds. Lotus blossoms and the root of the mandrake. Pungent fenugreek and hemp, thorny twists of acacia, and many others that Meryt did not recognise. The woman must have been down in the valley gathering all this since before the break of dawn … Meryt looked at her face. It was Teti, the
rekhet
, the Knowing One.

Meryt felt her stomach twist in fear. Teti's powers of divination and magic were well known in the village, and she did not want to anger her. ‘I'm so sorry,' she repeated.

Teti was picking up each stem and blossom tenderly, brushing off the coating of white limestone dust. But many were bruised, and seeds lay scattered all around. She shook her head. ‘Don't worry,' she said. ‘I can always collect more.'

‘Let me help you,' blurted Meryt.

Teti looked at her, a little smile playing on her lips. Shyly, Meryt met her gaze. She had never been this close to the Knowing One before, and she was surprised at how young and gentle she seemed. Her face was oval and pretty; her eyes smiled as though she laughed a lot.

‘I doubt you know how,' said Teti. ‘Can you tell one leaf from another?'

Meryt looked at the profusion before her. ‘I know some,' she said. ‘I know the celery and the acacia and the lotus. I could learn.'

Teti seemed amused. ‘Very well,' she said. ‘Do you know where I live?'

Meryt nodded. ‘Just outside the village wall on the north side.'

‘Tomorrow or the day after?'

Meryt thought for a moment. The men would return to work in the tombs the next day. Until they had gone, she would do better to show willing around the house.