‘Then go.’

  The expression on Senmut’s face was thunderous, and Meryt didn’t need to be told twice. She turned and ran from the house, heading for the eastern hilltop overlooking the River Nile. When she reached the summit, gasping and out of breath, she flung herself down on a rock and thumped the ground in frustration. It seemed as though the whole world were conspiring against her – the whole world, or perhaps the gods. But why? What on earth had she done?

  After a while, she calmed down and gazed out over the view, fingering her father’s scarab amulet. There was no way she could go home, not right away. She knew from experience that Senmut’s anger would take some time to cool, and while Baki was still unwell it would be best to keep a low profile. She decided to wait for nightfall and creep in for shelter once everyone else was asleep. Meanwhile, she needed to think.

  These were indeed difficult times, and Senmut’s reaction to her made little sense. Did he really think she was a danger to Baki? Surely he could not believe that! But then she remembered her dream, and the seed of doubt that had been there ever since she’d woken up began to grow. She thought of Tia, making her offering to Peshedu, and frowned. Could it be that both herself and her father were cursed by the gods? Perhaps Senmut was right to say that nothing good would ever come of her.

  When at last the sun had set and all she could see were the twinkling lamps in people’s houses, Meryt crept back down the hillside and through the village. When she reached her home, she stood outside the front door and listened. There was a murmuring of voices from the back room and the courtyard, but there was no one in the middle room. As quietly as she could, she stepped inside and opened a large wooden casket. Fumbling in the darkness, she felt around until she found an old linen cloak. She closed the casket softly, wrapped the cloak around her shoulders and tiptoed back into the front room to lie down.

  It wasn’t easy to fall asleep. Meryt was hungry. She dreaded Senmut walking through and finding her, though for the moment she could hear that he was busy arguing with Tia. She guessed that Tia was reasoning with him on her behalf; at least, she hoped so. Tia was her only ally in the household, other than the children. She curled into a ball, comforted by the fact that she was going to help Teti in a few hours’ time. Thinking of the rekhet’s warm smile made her feel better, and she gradually drifted off to sleep.

  She woke a few hours later. The household was quiet. In the darkness of the front room, it was harder to tell whether dawn was on its way, so she threw off the cloak and went to the front door. Out on the street, she saw the faintest glimmer of light to the east, and felt relieved that the night was almost over. The people of Set Maat were early risers, but even so the streets were still deserted as Meryt headed north. She jumped nervously as a guard dog yapped at her, and broke into a jog until she reached the gate.

  Teti lived in a little house outside the village wall. Meryt knew that her husband had been a scribe, one of the men who registered the attendance of the men at the tombs and oversaw their supply of equipment. But, like so many people of the village, he had died young. Teti had no children and had lost their house, which had been handed on to another workman. But scribes were well paid, and Teti’s inheritance had allowed her to build her own home just outside the village walls. There were several such houses, and Meryt was unsure which one belonged to the rekhet. So she sat on the path that led to the valley to wait.

  The sky was only just growing pink when she heard footsteps, and saw the rekhet approaching with a smile on her lips.

  ‘Ah, here you are,’ said Teti. ‘Thank you for coming.’

  ‘Oh! Thank you for letting me,’ said Meryt, scrambling to her feet. ‘It’s the least I can do. I’m so sorry I jogged your basket.’

  Teti’s smile broadened. ‘These things happen for a reason,’ she said. ‘Shall we get going?’

  They walked at a brisk pace down towards the river valley. Meryt noticed that Teti’s eyes were trained on the ground, scanning the path and the rocks around, and that nothing escaped her notice. Sometimes she bent down to scoop up a pebble or even small pieces of dung, wrapping them carefully in linen and popping them in her basket. They passed between the grand mortuary temples and soon reached the area of irrigation, where suddenly there was rich, black earth and the new crop was pushing up its lush, strong shoots.

  But Teti was not interested in the farmland that morning. She led Meryt down towards the river along winding pathways where wild plants and rushes grew.

  ‘Look! The dew,’ she said, reaching out to a big, bold plant and gently pulling its leaves towards her. With her other hand, she fished out a little bottle and curved the edges of a leaf towards its rim. Meryt watched as the droplets of dew were captured one by one. Teti smiled at her. ‘I use so much. I’m always running out,’ she said.

  They moved on, and Teti pointed out the plants she needed to gather – wild dill and hemp, different sedges and wormwood. Meryt warmed to her task and was soon absorbed in the hunt, picking flowers for her own enjoyment as well as the plants for Teti. There were date palms along the riverbank too, and their fruit lay scattered here and there. Meryt’s stomach rumbled and she remembered that she had not eaten the night before. She gathered some of the dates and ate them hungrily.

  Suddenly, Teti gave a shout. ‘Meryt! Come back!’

  ‘What is it?’ Meryt looked up. She had wandered away on her own, and was now very close to the water’s edge. Teti was beckoning her urgently, and out of the corner of her eye, Meryt saw a sudden ripple on the surface of the river.

  ‘This way!’ shouted Teti.

  It was a crocodile. Meryt caught a glimpse of its slitted snake-like eyes before its snout broke the surface. She yelped in fear, then ran, scratching her legs on the sharp edges of reeds and tearing her linen dress. She reached Teti but could not stop. Her terror had taken over. Suddenly, she was back in her dream with Baki, running away from the maddened dog with all her strength. Her legs pumped on and on.

  She ran until she reached an open field where she collapsed in the mud, her lungs sore and wheezing. It was several minutes before Teti appeared, her face full of concern.

  ‘Meryt! Are you all right?’

  Meryt nodded, still unable to speak, as Teti kneeled beside her and stroked her arm.

  ‘You did well to run so hard,’ said Teti. ‘You should not have strayed so close to the water.’

  Meryt struggled to get her breath back. ‘I know,’ she gulped. Everyone knew of the dangers that lurked in the Nile, and children were taught not to dabble in the shallows in areas where the crocodiles were plentiful.

  Her breathing grew steadier, and Teti gazed into her eyes. ‘You did well to run so hard,’ the rekhet repeated. ‘But the crocodile would not have pursued you. It likes to take its prey by surprise. So it was not fear of being caught that drove you on like that. It was something else, wasn’t it?’

  Meryt felt mesmerised by Teti’s soft brown eyes, which seemed to see beyond the surface, deep into her mind. ‘Yes,’ she whispered.

  ‘Can you tell me about it?’ Teti asked gently.

  Meryt hesitated. ‘It was a dream,’ she said.

  ‘You were being chased?’

  ‘Yes. By a dog.’ Meryt shivered.

  ‘And were you alone in this dream?’

  Again, Meryt hesitated, fearful of what might happen if she were honest. She knew that Teti’s powers included divination, similar to the powers of the oracle. People went to her if they were afraid to go through the usual channels. Meryt had the feeling that Teti could give an interpretation of her dream, if she chose … but she was not sure that she wanted to hear it.

  ‘You don’t have to tell me.’ Teti’s voice was soft and reassuring.

  ‘I was with my cousin Baki,’ Meryt blurted.

  ‘And did the dog bite you?’

  Meryt took a deep breath, and shook her head.

  ‘It bit your cousin Baki,’ guessed Teti.

  Meryt raised her eyes to those of the rekhet, biting her lip, and nodded. ‘Do you know what it means?’ she whispered. ‘I am so afraid. He has fallen sick.’

  Teti squeezed Meryt’s arm. ‘I am not surprised. This is not a matter to be taken lightly.’ The rekhet’s face grew serious. ‘Your cousin has been touched by magic.’

  Meryt stared down at the mud on her linen dress, her heart pounding. ‘Will he live?’ she managed to ask.

  Teti reached for Meryt’s hand, and pulled her to her feet. ‘That too will depend on magic,’ she said.

  Chapter Seven

  Meryt and Teti continued to gather plants until the sun was bright, glistening on the river and warming their skin. Meryt desperately wanted to question the rekhet further, but as the sun’s heat increased, Teti’s movements became quick and purposeful, moving rapidly from one plant to another, and she did not like to interrupt her.

  ‘We must get back,’ said Teti. ‘The plants will soon wither in the sun.’

  They walked quickly towards Set Maat, meeting field labourers and temple priests along the way, but it was not until they climbed the final stretch of path that Meryt found the courage to speak. ‘Teti,’ she said, ‘what is the magic that has touched my cousin Baki?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Teti simply. ‘What I have told you comes from the wisdom of the Dream Book. I can’t tell you anything else without knowing the details.’

  ‘I fear for him,’ said Meryt. ‘Would you help me?’

  Teti smiled. ‘Of course,’ she said. ‘But now is not the time. I have many things to attend to. Come back later, or tomorrow. Can you do that?’

  Meryt nodded, relief flooding through her. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘And thank you for your help,’ said Teti. ‘You have learnt something, I hope.’

  ‘Oh! Plenty,’ Meryt exclaimed. ‘I shall remember the crocodiles in future.’

  Teti laughed merrily, and winched her basket higher on to her hip. They had reached the fork that led to her group of houses, and she set off down it leaving Meryt on the main track. ‘Take care, Meryt,’ she called, waving as she walked out of sight.

  Meryt wondered what to do next. Under normal circumstances, she would go home to help Tia with the chores. But circumstances were not exactly normal. Senmut would still be there, so it would be better to stay away for as long as possible. She wanted to be sure that his wrath had abated, or at least that she had something to offer Baki, by the time she showed her face again.

  She considered a visit to Kenna or Dedi but decided against it. She still felt a little raw from Kenna’s words about Ramose, and too proud to burden Dedi with her problems. After skirting around the northern village wall, she scrambled up the hill that overlooked the village. There was no cemetery and no track on this side, and she picked her way carefully, trying not to stub her toes on the sharp limestone rocks.

  ‘I thought I might find you here,’ said a voice as she made the final few steps to the top.

  Meryt looked up. ‘Nofret!’

  The servant girl was sitting where Meryt usually sat, on a flat slab polished smooth by generations of villagers who had enjoyed the same spot.

  ‘I need to speak to you,’ said Nofret.

  Meryt remembered their last encounter, and felt instantly suspicious. ‘Why?’ she asked. ‘Have you more gossip to report?’

  Nofret shook her head. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I want to ask for your help.’

  Feeling wary, Meryt sat down near the servant girl and studied her face. Nofret’s expression was humble, or seemed to be. ‘What sort of help?’

  Nofret reached for a bag that lay by her side. ‘You know that I am in trouble,’ she said in a low voice. ‘You have seen one of the amulets and you know that I risk displeasing the gods.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Meryt. ‘What you are doing is very foolish.’

  ‘It is worse than you think,’ whispered Nofret. She opened the bag, and Meryt grew curious. ‘The amulets have great power. The man who requires them may do the village harm and may hurt me even more.’

  ‘Userkaf?’ asked Meryt.

  ‘No, no, not Userkaf. He has nothing to do with all this.’ Nofret said the words quickly, and Meryt frowned, watching in silence as the servant girl reached inside the bag.

  ‘I need protection,’ Nofret carried on. She fetched out a fine linen shawl, a pretty beaded collar and a copper bangle. ‘I need protection from the gods and I need protection from the man who wants the amulets.’

  Meryt gazed at the objects laid in front of her. ‘And what have these got to do with it?’ she asked, bewildered.

  Nofret smiled nervously. ‘They are for you,’ she said. ‘You know that I have heard you have the power of Sekhmet, who brings destruction and illness. Nes says so, and others too. But Sekhmet offers protection as well, does she not?’

  Meryt’s mouth dropped open. It was so astonishing a proposal that she wasn’t sure she had understood correctly. ‘You are asking me to protect you?’

  The servant girl nodded, and Meryt stared at her. Surely Nofret did not believe that she held any real power? In fact, she doubted that anyone did, deep down – including her uncle Senmut. The villagers were fond of gossip and all too ready to leap on a story, whether they really believed it or not; especially if it suited their own purposes.

  ‘I can’t. I have no power. This is just a rumour,’ she said eventually. ‘There is no truth in it.’

  The servant girl pursed her lips. ‘Such rumours always come from somewhere.’

  ‘Well, this one didn’t come from me,’ said Meryt. ‘It came from the wagging of neighbours’ tongues.’

  ‘I don’t think so. Nes says you are different. She works in your house and she says she can sense it.’

  Meryt felt a tingle run up and down her spine. She thought of Baki, lying on his sick bed. She thought of her dream, and the words of Teti: your cousin has been touched by magic. Her mouth felt dry, and she swallowed as Nofret pushed the shawl and bangle towards her, then picked up the beaded collar and held it against her own neck.

  ‘See how lovely it is,’ said the servant girl. ‘The beads are mostly faience and glass, but there are a few of carnelian too. It would suit you.’

  Meryt saw how the beads glinted in the morning sun, their colours bright and enticing. There were three strands fastened to a large red scarab in the centre. It was lovely. A sudden vision flashed through her head – sitting on the roof with Kenna admiring the collar around her own neck – but then, as Nofret offered it to her, she snapped to her senses. ‘Do you really think the protection of the gods can be bought in this way?’ she exclaimed. ‘What are you thinking of?’

  The servant girl’s smile wavered for a moment, but then she shrugged. ‘We make offerings to the gods all the time,’ she said. ‘They are payments, as far as I can see.’

  It was a strange way of looking at things, but Meryt could see that it was true, in a way. And yet … surely this was different? She didn’t know what to think. Tentatively, she reached out and touched the shawl. It was of the finest quality, soft to the touch and purest white. Beautiful – the sort of thing that Dedi would wear; the sort of thing that only the wealthiest women wore …

  And Nofret was a mere servant girl. Meryt looked up sharply. ‘Where did you get these things?’ she demanded. ‘Who gave them to you?’

  Nofret’s face dropped, but then quickly clouded with anger. ‘They are all I have,’ she exclaimed. ‘All I have ever had. My mother gave me the shawl when we parted. My father left me the collar. I earned the bracelet with my own hands.’

  Meryt shook her head. ‘I don’t believe you,’ she said.

  ‘You’ve got to believe me!’ insisted the servant girl, her eyes bright with determination. ‘I am afraid, Meryt. Why else would I give you everything I have to protect me?’

  Because I know you stole the amulets, thought Meryt, but said nothing. She sat back on her haunches and picked up the bracelet. This was not a fine object, like the shawl and the collar. It was a simple piece of copper – three strands woven together and clumsily soldered at the join. Could it be possible that Nofret was telling the truth? She could have earned a bracelet like this; it was barely a deben’s worth. And if the other two items were all her inheritance, she must be truly desperate.

  She thought of the stolen amulets. Meryt did not want to have anything to do with their theft, and these gifts looked remarkably like a bribe – a bribe to buy her silence, not her protection. She would be foolish to accept them. But the servant girl was taking huge risks and was obviously in danger, all the same. Was this some kind of test? She remembered what Teti had said, only that morning – These things happen for a reason.

  With a deep breath, she reached her decision. ‘I don’t want your precious goods, Nofret,’ she said. ‘I am not a goddess. You cannot make offerings to me.’

  Frustration spread across the servant girl’s features. She was about to protest, but Meryt held up her hand. ‘It doesn’t mean I won’t help you,’ she carried on, watching Nofret carefully. ‘I will see what I can do – but only if you tell me the name of the man you are serving.’

  Her heart quaked as she said the words, for she knew she was playing with fire – or worse. It was madness to meddle with the gods like this, but it was too late now. She had plunged in, and would have to carry the thing through.

  Nofret’s black eyes sparked angrily. ‘I can’t tell you that,’ she said.

  ‘Then I can’t help you,’ Meryt responded.

  The servant girl snatched up the shawl and collar. Her pleading expression had gone. She glared at Meryt, then stuffed the items back into her bag.

  Meryt shrugged. ‘Perhaps you don’t want protection as much as you thought,’ she said. She watched as Nofret reached for the copper bangle, her lower lip wobbling, and Meryt suddenly realised that the servant girl was on the verge of tears. ‘Of course, I will keep all your secrets,’ she added casually.

  Nofret looked up, the light of hope springing back into her eyes. ‘If I tell you, you must swear,’ she said. ‘You must swear not to speak to anyone.’

 

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