Orphan of the Sun (14 page)

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.'

Meryt nodded. ‘I swear.'

‘By all the gods and your ancestors.'

It was a heavy oath, and Meryt hesitated, clutching her protective amulet. Then recklessness gripped her, and she nodded again. ‘By all the gods and my ancestors.'

Nofret leant forward. ‘The man is Kha, the painter,' she whispered. ‘He is a friend of Userkaf's and visits his house. He said that if I did not do what he asked, he would speak ill of me to Userkaf and that I would be beaten – or … or worse.'

Her eyes looked big and haunted in her narrow face, and for the first time, Meryt felt some sympathy for the scrawny servant girl. She would hardly be the first servant to be abused by the men of the village. ‘And what he wanted was …' she prompted.

‘The amulets.'

‘Nothing more?' pressed Meryt, knowing that favours could take many forms; servant girls often gave birth to children that had no father to call by name.

‘No.' Nofret's expression was wry. ‘Isn't it bad enough that he makes me steal for him?'

Meryt sighed. ‘Yes. Yes, of course it is.' She
shrugged. ‘Well, your secret is safe with me.'

The servant girl flashed her a relieved smile, and rose to her feet. ‘Thank you, Meryt,' she said. ‘I am very grateful. May the gods be with you.'

Meryt watched as Nofret scurried down to the eastern cemetery and disappeared between the dilapidated tombs. Now that the other girl had gone, she could scarcely believe what had happened – or what she had agreed to. She went over what she had said in her mind, terrified that she had acted with disrespect towards the gods.

The main thing was that she had denied having any powers. And she had sworn not to speak of the amulets, or reveal the name of the painter, Kha. An oath of secrecy – there was no harm in this. Surely there was no harm in this! There was nothing for the gods to be angry about.

Nofret thinks you have powers
, whispered a voice in her head.
By saying you would help her, you allowed her to think you have powers.

‘Nonsense,' she muttered to herself. ‘Nofret is a thief who wants my silence. That is all.'

But the other girl's haunted features swam before her and she shook her head. Whatever her own problems might be, she was glad she was not a servant girl.

She got up and began to walk down the hillside towards the village. It was still only late morning, so she crossed the road by the village gate and climbed the hill on the other side, up into the western
cemetery. The sun was growing warm as she wandered slowly towards her father's tomb.

In Peshedu's chapel, the offerings still lay on the altar – the mystery lettuce now dry and shrivelled alongside the unfamiliar loaves of bread, and her own offering next to the loaf placed there by Tia. Meryt stood before them and murmured a prayer to Peshedu. ‘Peshedu, blessed spirit of Re, protect your daughter from the powers of evil. Keep the power of sacred amulets from harming me. Restore Baki to health so that I might live peacefully in Senmut's house. And deliver me from marriage to Ramose.'

It seemed a lot to ask from a blessed spirit of Re. The dead had their own concerns, and Meryt's heart felt heavy. She wandered back into the chapel courtyard to sit down in the sun and lean back against the courtyard wall. As ever, it was a comfort to feel the presence of Re as he made his passage across the sky, and his golden rays soon made her sleepy. Tired from having risen so early, she began to drift off.

She had no idea how long she slept. It was the sound of footsteps that awoke her, jerking her out of a deep slumber. She passed a hand across her face, disoriented, then leapt up to see who was there.

The chapel was empty. But someone had been there only a few minutes earlier, for the smell of incense hung heavy in the air and a fresh offering had been placed on the altar. Meryt stared at it. Figs – and more of the unfamiliar bread, laid neatly next to Tia's loaf. She turned and ran out of the chapel to
peer down the pathway.

The figure of a woman was walking briskly towards the village gate. Meryt narrowed her eyes and shielded them from the sun, trying to work out who it was. It was not Tia, that was sure. Then, just as she was about to disappear from view, the woman turned to wave at one of the village guards, and Meryt saw her face.