Orphan of the Sun, page 17
When at last Meryt opened her eyes, she didn’t know where she was. A shaft of sunlight was beaming on to her face and she sat up, shielding her gaze from its glare. She looked around, taking in the offerings on the altar and the beautiful paintings on the dome of the chapel. It did not take long to remember what had happened the day before, and she sat still, wishing she could find the hidden entrance to the tomb itself and join her father for ever. In the Next World, they would never be parted and there would never be another death to face alone.
But then she felt angry, for life could have been so different. Peshedu might have lived. And to add to this pain, Tia’s words crept back to haunt her: I tried to appease him … I swore that I would care for you for your whole life if I had to. Now, Meryt was alone, with the knowledge that the woman who had shielded her all her life had done so only out of guilt. The bitterness of it was like the taste of a tamarind in her mouth.
She felt her stomach rumble in hunger, and looked at Tia’s most recent offering. What good could it do anyway, lying there on the altar? It was only to beg forgiveness for Meryt’s own predicament! Peshedu would hardly blame her for eating it. She picked up a loaf and tore off a chunk, then helped herself to a handful of dates. She stared at them, daring herself to take the first bite. When she did, a strange sense of recklessness came over her and she ate hungrily, ramming the food into her mouth with savage, bitter glee. As she did so, Meryt thought of Nofret’s words. I have nothing to lose. Suddenly, she knew exactly what the servant girl had meant.
As the day grew brighter, Meryt’s thoughts drifted to the moment before meeting Tia. It seemed an eternity ago, but then she remembered: the buzzing crowds, Nebnufer’s arrest, and talk of a council meeting. Despite herself, she felt curious.
She left the chapel and began to walk through the cemetery to the western gate, looking down at the village as she did so. From the sound of it, the bustle on the streets had returned to normal; people were going about their morning business. She glanced up and spotted a group of men walking up the path that led to the Great Place, and guessed that they were men from Sennedjem’s gang. They reminded her of Senmut, and the house that could never be her home again.
It was too painful a thought to dwell on. Pushing it away, she walked through the gate and made her way to Dedi’s house. The street outside was now quiet. The door, which was usually left ajar, was firmly shut. She looked around, and caught sight of a neighbour’s head peeping at her from behind her front door, then quickly retreating again. Meryt felt chilled, a sense of foreboding filling her as she raised her hand to knock.
At first, no one answered. Then, after a long, long pause, Dedi’s brother Yuya opened the door, his expression wary.
‘Oh, it’s you, Meryt,’ he said. ‘Dedi’s not here. Mother’s taken her away for a few days. All the women have gone – the servants too.’
Meryt stared at him. ‘Gone?’ she managed to stutter.
Yuya nodded. ‘They’re staying with relatives to the south,’ he said. ‘It’s not exactly pleasant around here at the moment, Meryt. You know what neighbours are like.’
Meryt felt lost. For a moment, all she could think was that she had nowhere to stay. ‘Oh … well, thank you,’ she murmured, then looked at Yuya beseechingly, unsure what to do.
He did not return her gaze. ‘They’ll be back in time for the trial,’ he said abruptly, and shut the door.
The trial. So things had moved on. The council must have decided that they could not deal with Nebnufer themselves, for serious matters such as theft of government property were always dealt with by the vizier.
Meryt turned away and wandered down the street, feeling desolate. It felt as though no one in the world cared where she was, or what she did. Was there nowhere she could go to feel safe? She could not live in her father’s chapel for long. There was Kenna’s house, of course, but she had already thought that through. It wasn’t an option. Such a thing could only happen if they were more than just friends …
There was only one place left to her. She would have to turn to Teti.
As soon as the rekhet opened the door and gave one of her big, warm smiles, Meryt felt the floodgates open and she was swamped with tears.
‘Meryt, whatever’s happened?’ Teti held out her arms and Meryt leant into them, choked with sobs.
‘Come in, come in.’ Teti led her through the house to the courtyard and sat her down on the reed matting, still holding on to her hands. ‘Take your time. Cry as long as you want.’
Meryt did not need any encouragement. She wept for everything – for her lost mother and father, for Tia, for the home that she had lost, for her love for Kenna, for the disgrace that rested on Nebnufer and all his family, for despair at what the future might hold. At last, she grew still, and Teti handed her a piece of linen to dry her eyes.
‘Dear, dear!’ exclaimed Teti. ‘It is as though the world has ended. Or perhaps, for you, it has?’
Meryt looked at her questioningly through her red-rimmed eyes. Nothing escaped Teti, she knew. But the look in the older woman’s eyes was also questioning, and Meryt could see that she had not divined the whole truth. She gulped back her tears, and began to talk.
Everything came pouring out all over again – the long, uneasy presence of her father in the household, Ramose’s proposal and Heria’s visits to Peshedu’s tomb, Meryt’s banishment by Senmut and Tia’s confession the night before. ‘And as if all that were not enough,’ she hiccuped, ‘I went to Dedi’s house and they have gone. Nebnufer must stand trial for something I am sure he never did and no one knows about the stolen golden amulets.’
Teti’s face went still. ‘What stolen amulets?’
Meryt’s lower lip wobbled. She hadn’t meant to mention the amulets; she held their power in too much respect – and besides, she had sworn by all the gods and her ancestors not to speak. But now, Teti was regarding her intently and she was overcome with recklessness all over again. ‘The … the amulets from the embalmers’ workshops,’ she said. ‘That’s how Userkaf is bribing the men. Or at least I think so, but I can’t prove anything because Nofret denies it now.’
Teti held up her hand. ‘Wait, wait,’ she said. ‘More slowly. You say that golden amulets are being stolen from the embalmers’ workshops. That is a serious charge. Who is stealing them?’
Meryt hesitated, already wishing that she could take her admission back. But it was too late now. ‘Nofret,’ she said. ‘Userkaf’s servant girl.’
‘How did you find out?’
‘I bumped into her on the hillside path and she dropped one. Then she asked me for protection from the gods and told me lies about the painter Kha. I had a dream and saw that he was innocent and I tried to force her to tell me the truth, but it didn’t work. Now there is nothing I can do.’
Teti drew a deep breath. ‘So that’s it,’ she muttered, almost to herself. She took Meryt’s hands and held them firmly in her own. ‘Listen to me, Meryt. The gods have given you a heavy burden. We will come to your family in a minute, but for now we must talk of the amulets. You must know that such objects are not to be played with lightly.’
Meryt nodded. ‘I haven’t told anyone else,’ she whispered. ‘I promised Nofret I wouldn’t.’
‘And you said you had a dream, about Kha.’
‘Yes. I saw that the amulets were broken down in great heat and that Kha is just a poor man. Then I saw traders at the village gate and gradually I saw what it all meant. Or I thought I did. When I challenged Nofret she admitted that the amulets were sold to traders but she would not admit anything else.’
Teti became silent, her brow furrowed, but she held on to Meryt’s hands just as tightly. At last, she spoke. ‘This is powerful knowledge. The fate of the village rests on it,’ she said slowly. ‘And the gods have put this knowledge in your hands. I cannot take that from you, but I will try to protect you, if I can.’
‘Protect me from what?’ asked Meryt miserably. ‘I have told you what has happened. Surely my life cannot get any worse.’
Teti’s face darkened. ‘The forces of chaos are greater than you can imagine, Meryt,’ she said. ‘They are wielded by the god Seth himself, the enemy of Horus and the god of mischief and vengeance. When he unleashes his weapons, problems such as yours are as nothing, I can assure you.’
Her words reminded Meryt of the warning that she herself had given Nofret, and she knew that they were true. She swallowed. ‘So what should I do?’
‘I will make you an amulet,’ said Teti. ‘And I will consult the gods myself. You …’ She paused, and stroked Meryt’s hands. ‘You must do as the gods direct you.’
‘But … how?’
‘They have brought you this far,’ Teti answered. ‘They will guide you, if you allow them to.’ She looked deep into Meryt’s eyes, and smiled. ‘And now, we must talk of your family. Did Baki receive the treatment that I sent?’
Meryt nodded, her head bowed.
‘But you do not know if he has begun to recover?’
This time, Meryt shrugged, for the issue seemed hopeless, and to think of the family carrying on without her filled her with pain. But Teti’s next question touched the core of the matter and she was forced to look up.
‘Do you really believe that Tia has not loved you all these years?’ asked the rekhet. ‘Think before you answer. It is always hard to see beyond your bitterness and anger, but you must try.’
Meryt felt the tears welling up once more, for Tia had cared for her as far back as she could remember and had been the only mother figure she had ever known. Her care had always been deeper than Senmut’s and until now, Meryt had never doubted that it was founded on love. And yet … and yet … ‘She had to love me,’ she burst out. ‘She had no choice.’
‘There is always a choice, Meryt,’ said Teti quietly. ‘I have seen mothers who have rejected their own flesh, and fathers who wished to dash their children’s heads against the stones.’
Meryt let the words sink in. She thought of Tia’s long-suffering love for her children and her endurance of Nauna’s jibes … how she had always stuck up for Meryt. How, as Meryt had grown up, they had become allies – even friends. And slowly, as she thought it through, her anger turned to a swelling sadness. ‘You’re right,’ she mumbled. ‘Tia has loved me, Teti.’
‘There … there, you see,’ said Teti, her voice full of tenderness. ‘You have a good heart, Meryt. It is big enough to find forgiveness, if you try.’
Chapter Eleven
For the rest of the day, Teti gave Meryt jobs to do around her house. There was a pile of grain to be ground to flour, for Teti did not qualify for help from the government servants; there was a batch of beer to be made and a hole in the mud-brick wall to be repaired.
‘When you have much to think about, it is sometimes best to keep busy,’ said Teti, as Meryt began work on the grain. ‘Solutions present themselves in their own way and you cannot always force them.’
Meryt smiled wanly. She was not sure if it was true, but in any case, it was a comfort to feel part of someone’s household for a few hours. She bent her head over the grain, her arms soon beginning to ache from the unaccustomed effort. Nes the servant girl had to do this every day, moving from house to house, she reflected; and Meryt did not envy her. It made her realise how lucky she had been, all these years.
But as the rhythm of the work absorbed her body, her mind started ticking over, as Teti had said it might. By the time the afternoon sun had begun to dip, she had worked out what she was going to do.
‘Teti,’ she said, as the rekhet carried a basket of linen across the courtyard, ‘I would like to go back to the village for a little while, if I may.’
‘Of course,’ said Teti.
‘But …’ Meryt took a deep breath. ‘I was wondering if I could return here to sleep.’
Teti smiled. ‘You will always be welcome here, Meryt-Re,’ she said. ‘I thank the gods for bringing me a helper. And I do not just mean someone to grind the grain.’
Meryt looked at her uncertainly, unsure what she meant, but Teti had turned away to tend to the linen. She stood up and slipped quietly out of the house.
Now that she had a purpose, Meryt walked briskly to Kenna’s house. One of his sisters came to the door and grinned shyly at her.
‘He’s carving a senet set on the roof,’ she told Meryt. ‘Do you want to go up and find him?’
Meryt smiled briefly. ‘Thank you,’ she said, and hurried through the house – aware, as ever, that the women’s whispers were following her. She hated it, and knew for sure that she could never beg for help from a family such as this.
Kenna was sitting in a patch of afternoon sun, humming a tune as he whittled away at the little senet pieces. The sets that he made were much in demand among his friends and neighbours as gifts, and he spent many hours perfecting them. Meryt paused at the top of the staircase to watch him, but he heard her and looked up.
‘Meryt!’ His eyes lit up. ‘You disappeared again. I looked for you during the council meeting. I thought you would be with Dedi but …’ he shrugged, and placed his copper carving knife on the ground. ‘Well, you know where you were. Come and sit.’
Meryt walked over to where he sat and squatted down beside him. ‘You have almost finished this set,’ she commented. The chequered board lay next to him, made in the form of a box with a little drawer in it to hold the pieces. Kenna had just been giving the finishing touches to one of the pawns, which he placed in the drawer.
‘Yes. Just two more pawns to go, and the throwing sticks – but they take no time at all,’ said Kenna, clearly satisfied with his work. He smiled. ‘So, what brings you here?’
‘I need you to help me again,’ said Meryt.
Kenna became serious at once. ‘Of course. Anything.’
‘It’s nothing too difficult – just the same as before. I need to see Mose,’ she explained. ‘I will wait outside the northern gate, as I did last time.’
Kenna frowned. ‘So you are still not living with your family. And things cannot be easy in Nebnufer’s house. I wish you would tell me what’s going –’
‘I can’t,’ Meryt cut across him. Then she smiled gently. ‘Not yet. I’m sorry, Kenna. I’m fine, that’s all you need to know. I am staying with Teti.’
‘Teti!’ Kenna looked startled. ‘Meryt, it is one thing to consult the rekhet in times of trouble but quite another to stay under her roof. Are you not afraid?’
Meryt was puzzled. ‘No. Why should I be afraid? She’s good to me. I trust her.’
Kenna picked up the senet set, and sighed. He pulled the drawer out and pushed it back in, then smoothed the chequered squares of wood with his finger. Meryt saw his discomfort, and it grieved her that her friend did not understand the ways of the rekhet. But she also knew Kenna well enough to understand the reason why; he preferred not to dwell on people’s troubles if he could.
‘What happened at the council meeting?’ she asked him, changing the subject.
Kenna put the box down again. ‘Have you not heard? The Medjay showed the council the bag of copper tools that they found in Nebnufer’s storeroom. The council asked him if he had anything to say. He made a simple statement, saying that he was innocent of the theft but could not yet prove it. So it was decided that he would be suspended as foreman until the matter could be heard by the vizier.’
‘Suspended!’ Meryt thought of the men she had seen climbing to the Great Place that morning. ‘But work is carrying on in the tombs, all the same.’
‘Yes. Sennedjem has returned with his men, out of loyalty to Nebnufer, some say. It makes a change for his gang to be doing more than Nebnufer’s.’ He grinned. ‘Father is making the most of his days of idleness.’
‘So none of Nebnufer’s gang have gone back?’
Kenna shook his head. ‘They have been given leave while the council decides how to proceed. There is a rumour that Userkaf will be promoted to foreman until Nebnufer’s trial is over. Many of the men support him.’
Meryt’s mouth dropped open in shock. ‘Userkaf as foreman …!’ she exclaimed.
‘Yes. Makes sense, I suppose,’ said Kenna. ‘It will suit him. He has never been the most patient of draughtsmen, after all.’
Meryt stared at him, trying to take it in. So that had been the purpose of it all! The position of foreman was coveted by all, of course, for it brought with it wealth and status and many contacts among government officials; but Meryt never imagined that anyone would go to such lengths to obtain it. It was breathtaking. In Kenna’s own words, it made sense – but far more sense than he was aware of.
She thought of Teti’s words: You must do as the gods direct you. They will guide you, if you allow them to. She chewed her lip. There had been no guidance as yet, but an idea was beginning to form and she wanted to think about it. She scrambled to her feet. ‘I had better get going,’ she said. ‘I would like to see Mose before nightfall.’
Kenna nodded. ‘I will fetch him right away.’
‘Thank you, Kenna.’ Meryt felt wistful. ‘Maybe some day, I will be able to repay you for all you have done for me.’
‘Don’t say such things,’ replied Kenna, looking wounded. ‘It’s nothing. I only wish I could do more.’
As she walked back to the northern gate, Meryt was thinking hard. What she could not get out of her mind was the night of Nebnufer’s party and the image of Kha, offering her a glass of water. She thought of his gentleness, the kindness in his eyes, the way he had seemed quieter than everyone else. And then, later on, he had disappeared. The explanation seemed to hover at the edge of her mind but she could not quite see it.
She reached the village wall and leant against it to wait for Mose. Perhaps there was more to be gleaned from her dream about the painter. Meryt put her fingertips to her temples and closed her eyes to go through it again. There he had stood, alone in his ragged loincloth on the Peak of the West, with the moonlight shining upon him. There he had stood, alone … alone … Meryt thumped the wall with her heel. Had she hit upon the answer?
