Orphan of the Sun, page 18
She stirred as Mose’s familiar voice greeted her. ‘You look far, far away, Meryt,’ he said, and she opened her eyes to see her cousin smiling up at her.
‘Mose! Oh, I’m so glad to see you.’ She waved at Kenna, who was already retreating to the village gate. ‘There are many things I need to ask of you.’
Mose placed his hand in hers, and they walked a little further down the wall before squatting to talk.
‘Baki is getting better,’ Mose informed her. ‘I placed the charm under his head, as you told me to, and I gave Mama the balm. They are beginning to work.’
Meryt looked at him quickly. ‘Really, Mose? Are you sure?’
‘Yes,’ said Mose. ‘He is not so hot now and he has started to ask for food again.’
His words had a strange effect on Meryt. On the one hand she felt a rush of relief and astonishment. On the other, the news was like a crushing blow, because she could no longer share in the family’s happiness.
She bit her lip. ‘And how is your mama?’ she asked.
Mose was silent for a moment, his young face struggling. ‘There is something wrong,’ he said eventually. ‘But we don’t know what it is. She is happy about Baki but something else troubles her.’ He shook his head solemnly. ‘I wish you would come home, Meryt. I think she misses you.’
Meryt looked up and saw a falcon circling above, its graceful, pointed wings outstretched as it soared on the gentle breeze. The bird was silhouetted against the sun, which seemed to form a golden halo around it. Her heart beat a little faster. The sun-god Re was embodied as a falcon, for he was a facet of the falcon god Horus, the king of all the gods. Could it be that the gods were guiding her, as Teti had said they would?
She reached for the scarab amulet that she wore around her neck, and pulled it over her head. ‘Take this,’ she said to Mose, and placed it in his hand. ‘Give it to your mama.’
‘But you always wear that, Meryt,’ exclaimed Mose. ‘It is your protection. You will not be safe without it.’
‘Don’t worry about my safety, Mose,’ she said. ‘This amulet was my father’s, but I want Tia to have it now.’
As Mose stared down at the amulet, Meryt felt the empty space where it had always lain. She did feel oddly exposed, but the sun was now warming her neck and she felt quite sure that she was doing the right thing. Her heart felt lighter, and she closed Mose’s hand around the amulet and smiled. ‘Tell her it is sent with my love,’ she said.
Mose seemed nonplussed, but he nodded and rose to his feet. ‘I will,’ he promised.
‘And if she wants to know where I am, tell her I am staying with Teti,’ she added. ‘I hope she will come and find me. Take care, Mose.’
‘See you soon, Meryt.’ Mose turned and trotted off towards the gate with his side-lock bobbing in the last rays of the golden afternoon sun.
When he had gone, Meryt’s thoughts quickly returned to Kha. Part of her wanted to act on her instincts at once, but another part warned against it. Mose had been right to point out that she had no protection. She would first return to Teti, and ask to take another look at the Dream Book.
Teti welcomed her back into her home, and together they cooked an evening meal. When they had eaten they sat on the roof to eat slices of watermelon, and as darkness fell, Meryt described her dream about Kha and the golden amulet. ‘I think I understand most of it,’ she said. ‘But there is one thing that puzzles me. The amulets are burning up in the heat and the gold is melting away. But when Kha stands alone on the mountain, he is bathed not in sun but in moonlight.’
Teti nodded. ‘This is something the Dream Book can answer. As it happens it is a good sign,’ she said. ‘But you are right to be cautious.’
She fetched the papyrus and another lamp, and read each entry carefully to herself, muttering over the words. ‘Here,’ she said at last. ‘If a man sees himself in a dream with the moon shining: Good. He is being pardoned by his god.’
‘Why …’ Meryt shook her head in disbelief. ‘That’s perfect.’
Teti gave her a querying look. ‘What do you mean?’ she asked.
‘It is more than I could have hoped for,’ said Meryt. ‘But I would like to sleep on it before I act, and speak to Kha before I tell you what I think – for fear I am wrong.’
Teti looked amused. ‘Very well,’ she said. ‘You are growing wise, Meryt-Re. But I’d like you to have greater protection all the same. Wait here.’
Her words reminded Meryt of the emptiness around her neck where her amulet had been, and she wondered how Tia had responded to her gesture. She thought of how her aunt had been so anxious over Baki’s care, scarcely leaving his side from the moment he returned from the priests. It made sense. Meryt realised how deeply Peshedu’s death must have haunted her. What a burden to carry for all these years … no wonder her aunt often seemed tired and restless. Meryt felt her heart swell with sympathy.
Teti reappeared at the top of the stairs, and Meryt saw at once that she was dangling another amulet from her hand.
‘This is for you,’ said Teti. She sat down next to Meryt and slipped the string over Meryt’s head. ‘It is from my store of protective amulets and I have pronounced a special blessing over it.’
The amulet was larger than the scarab, and weighed more heavily around Meryt’s neck. She looked down and fingered it, fascinated. It was a little dwarf-like child with bandy legs, similar to the household god, Bes, but without his lion’s mane, shaped in faience and glazed a light golden brown.
‘It represents our lord Horus the Child, to protect you in your innocence,’ said Teti, ‘but it also contains the protection of Ptah, for it is in his world that you tread.’
Meryt smiled. She liked the funny little object, and she thought she could already feel its strength weaving a web around her. ‘Thank you, Teti,’ she said. ‘I shall treasure it. It has come at a good time, because today I gave my scarab to Tia.’
Teti’s eyes grew wide, and Meryt saw something new in their regard. It was respect. ‘The gods guide you well,’ she said. ‘To pass on one’s own protection to another is an act of great power. It will not go unrewarded, I am sure.’
‘I don’t want a reward,’ said Meryt shyly. ‘It just seemed the right thing to do. And there is still much to be done about Nebnufer.’
Teti played with one of the wicks, teasing away the ends with her little tongs. The flame flickered, casting shadows on her face, and when she spoke it was in a low, serious voice. ‘And there I cannot help you,’ she said. ‘I have seen that you must travel this path alone. But you will do so well, Meryt-Re. You need not be afraid, for the gods are with you.’
It was a comfort to think of Teti’s words later that night when Meryt lay alone under the stars, thinking of what she must try to achieve the next day. And yet, even though she felt confused and uncertain about the future, she knew that she had lost her fear. Her fist closed around her new amulet and she smiled up at the velvety black sky, tracing patterns from one star to another. Perhaps there was hope, after all.
She did not remember falling asleep. When she woke, she felt a heaviness on one leg, and realised that Teti’s cat had snuggled up to her in the night. She stroked it absently, staring out at the pink streaks of dawn that were rising in the east. She shifted the cat gently to one side and stood up to stretch before padding down the staircase to the courtyard.
There was no sign of Teti anywhere, and Meryt guessed that she had gone out to gather herbs. She sat and ate a piece of bread with some of the rekhet’s salty goats’ cheese, chewing slowly. There was no hurry. Now that the darker season was drawing in, most of the village would only stir slowly – especially the men who had been granted leave from work. But when the sun had gained a little strength she set out, heading into the village and taking an alley that led to the north-eastern corner, beneath the wall.
She found the house of Kha the painter and knocked on the door. It was his wife who opened it. ‘He isn’t here. What do you want with him?’ she asked suspiciously.
‘It is only about his work,’ Meryt reassured her. ‘I wish to consult him, that’s all.’
The woman looked Meryt up and down, then shrugged. ‘He is moonlighting. In the tomb of Paser,’ she said, pointing up at the western hillside.
‘Thank you,’ said Meryt politely. ‘May the gods be with you.’
She felt the woman’s stare on her back as she made her way west, but did not turn round. Taking the western gate, she made her way around the tombs until she found the section that Kha’s wife had pointed out. She did not know this part of the cemetery well and she had to ask a passing stonemason where the painter was working.
When Meryt found the right tomb shaft, she looked around. The chapel that would stand over the tomb had not yet been built. A low mud-brick wall marked out the courtyard boundary, but that was all. Meryt peered down into the shaft, which had been dug into the rock almost vertically. A steep, narrow stairway had been hewn into the rock, and she could see that the darkness would soon engulf her. She took a deep breath and lowered herself down backwards into the shaft, gripping the steps above her with her fingers as her feet found ones further down. When her feet touched a layer of solid rock she realised she had been holding her breath all the way down, and her legs were shaking.
‘Who’s there?’ called a voice out of the gloom ahead of her.
A flickering light showed somewhere below. The passageway she stood in was not big enough for her to stand in upright, and Meryt bent over to creep forward a few steps. There must be another stairway down into the tomb chamber, and she was terrified of tumbling down it accidentally. With her hands, she groped along the ceiling, but all at once the flickering light grew brighter and a man’s hand appeared, placing a lamp near her feet.
Meryt peered down the next shaft. Standing below her was Kha.
‘It’s … it’s Meryt. The lyre player from Nebnufer’s party,’ she managed to say.
Kha looked astonished. ‘Whatever are you doing here? The tombs are no place for a girl.’
‘I need to speak to you,’ said Meryt nervously. ‘Please don’t send me away.’
The painter stared up at her, puzzlement in his eyes. ‘Well – if you wish.’
Kha lifted the lamp and guided her feet down the steps as she began to descend once more. The second shaft was not as deep, and when she reached solid rock again Kha led her forward into the tomb chamber itself. The passageway opened out before her, and Meryt gasped in delight. It was beautiful. Following the design laid out by a draughtsman, Kha had completed the ceiling and two of the walls with intricate paintings in vibrant colours that took her breath away.
Kha smiled at her response. ‘You have never seen inside a tomb before?’
Meryt shook her head, gazing at the paintings in wonder. Of course, she had seen plenty of chapels, but somehow it was different standing here in a chamber below the earth, seeing the freshly painted scenes by the flickering light of a lamp.
‘See, here Paser greets the gods in the Next World,’ Kha explained. ‘And here, he and his wife tend the fields in paradise, where the crops are always lush and plentiful.’
Meryt longed to reach out and touch the paint, but instead she smiled and said, ‘It must be a pleasure to work on something so sacred.’
‘It is easy to forget that,’ Kha confessed, with a little laugh. ‘Nothing seems sacred when you do it every day.’
‘That’s not true!’ exclaimed Meryt. ‘I see the bust of my father every day and it still seems sacred to me.’
Kha studied her, his smile dying. ‘You are a strange young woman, Meryt-Re,’ he murmured. ‘First I was struck by how well you play the lyre. Now you have entered my workplace, where young women never intrude. What is it that has brought you here?’
Meryt let her eyes wander over the paintings for a moment, uncertain where to start, then bowed her head. ‘I have dreams,’ she blurted, before she could stop herself. ‘I see things that others do not see.’
She looked up, and saw that wariness had come across the painter’s gentle features.
‘And what have your dreams been telling you?’ he asked quietly.
Meryt took a deep breath. Now that she had started, there was no point in holding back. ‘What I know concerns the draughtsman Userkaf,’ she told him. ‘He is using power that does not belong to him.’
Kha’s eyebrows shot up. He stared at Meryt intently. ‘Go on.’
Meryt paused. She knew she had to choose her words with great care. ‘You are his friend,’ she said. ‘You know him well.’
Kha folded his arms. His friendliness had gone. ‘What are you trying to say?’ he demanded. ‘Yes, I am a friend of Userkaf’s. You are treading on slippery ground, young Meryt. What is it that you want from me?’
A gust of wind blew down the shaft and the lamps sputtered, casting eerie shadows around the tomb. Meryt felt a shiver run down her spine, for she could not escape while Kha was standing in front of the shaft. How foolish she had been! Perhaps Nofret’s tale was true. The man who stood before her might be dangerous – and she was trapped with him in a tomb that could all too easily become a place of darkness. She looked around, mute with fear, knowing there was no other exit.
‘I …’ Her voice came out in a squeak and she cleared her throat. ‘I have seen that the gods have pardoned you.’
Kha took a step towards her, and Meryt backed away. ‘Pardoned me for what?’ he demanded. ‘What is it that you know?’
There were beads of sweat on Meryt’s forehead, for there was much that she believed, but little that she actually knew. She decided to take a gamble. ‘Userkaf offered you riches,’ she said, the words coming out breathlessly. ‘Bribes. He offered them to others too. But you were the only one to refuse.’
Her heart thudded painfully against her chest as she watched his reaction. Kha’s face remained neutral and calm.
‘And what else?’ he asked.
Meryt wondered whether to mention the amulets, but an instinct warned her not to. ‘Just that the gods have pardoned you,’ she repeated. ‘Please do not harm me, Kha.’
‘Harm you!’ The painter shook his head.
Meryt let out her breath in relief. So she was safe, at least.
‘I am more concerned that you may harm yourself,’ the painter continued. ‘What you talk about is a serious matter.’
Meryt fingered the new, heavy amulet around her neck. She nodded. ‘I know,’ she said. ‘I did not ask for the gift of dreams.’
Kha stroked his chin. ‘The gods must surely be with you,’ he admitted. ‘It is true Userkaf has bribed many of the men. In return, they give him their support. He has done well, for his offers are generous.’
‘But you stood alone, and refused the temptation.’
‘Yes, I refused,’ said Kha. ‘But Userkaf has my support, all the same.’
Meryt frowned. To usurp a foreman appointed by the vizier was against all the principles of truth and justice by which they lived. If Kha was trying to undermine him, he was defying the will of the gods despite refusing the bribes. ‘Is Nebnufer such a terrible foreman?’ she asked. ‘Does he deserve this treachery?’
Kha said nothing but looked uneasy, and Meryt realised she had touched his conscience. The image of her dream flashed before her once again: the painter standing alone wearing a ragged loincloth, his painter’s palette worn out. And suddenly she knew what she had to say. ‘You imagine that Userkaf will be a good foreman, don’t you?’ she said. ‘You think he will treat you all better than Nebnufer, and act with wisdom and justice. This is foolishness. Userkaf’s tools are betrayal and deception, and that will never change. How do you think he will treat someone who refused to accept his bribes?’
She paused. Kha was standing very still, and she knew that her meaning had hit home. ‘The gods have pardoned your treachery,’ she carried on. ‘But the pardon brings with it a price. Nebnufer’s future depends on the vizier and what is said at the trial. It rests in your hands, Kha.’
Kha’s expression grew cold as he realised what she was saying. ‘You are telling me to speak out,’ he said. He snorted, and shook his head. ‘Userkaf is my friend. So are the others. What they are doing is wrong, but …’ he spread his hands. ‘You do not know what you are saying, young Meryt,’ he finished.
Meryt moved towards the tomb shaft. Kha allowed her to pass, and she placed her foot on the first narrow step. ‘I cannot make you do anything,’ she said, meeting the painter’s gaze. ‘All I can say is that I have seen that the gods are with you. Do not be afraid to do what you know is right.’
Then, after one last look around the half-painted tomb, she turned and began to clamber up the narrow shaft towards the daylight.
The morning air seemed fresh and wholesome as she emerged in the unfinished courtyard. Meryt took deep, long breaths and stretched her limbs. She hadn’t noticed it at the time, but now that she was above ground she realised that the air in the tomb had been hot and oppressive from the mixture of stale breath and burning linen wicks. She sat in a patch of sunlight and closed her eyes, glad that she was not a man, and would never have to work in the tombs.
So she had been right. Userkaf had bribed his fellow-workmen to gain their support, having sold the precious amulets to traders. It did not answer the question of the stolen copper tools, but it was a start. She could only hope that Kha would act on what she had told him, for without the evidence of a workman Nebnufer stood no chance.
The sound of sandals crunched on the limestone pathway and a shadow fell across her face. She opened her eyes, and gasped.
‘Ramose!’
The stonecutter was looking down at her with a perplexed expression. ‘I have often hoped to come across you, but I never thought it would be here,’ he said.
Meryt scrambled to her feet. ‘I was just going,’ she said. ‘I only came to … to …’ she trailed off, not wishing to reveal the reason for her visit.
