Orphan of the Sun (30 page)

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Authors: Gill Harvey

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‘I don't care what you do to me,' she said, her voice high and shaky. ‘I have suffered enough as a slave for the last five years. My first master beat me daily. I was bought from him by Userkaf, who does not beat me but makes me work double the time, both in his home and in the embalmers' workshops.'

The vizier shrugged, for this was nothing unusual. But Nofret looked around. As she realised how carefully the crowd was listening to her, she drew herself up taller, and her eyes began to spark with anger. ‘What he has done is the cruellest of all,' she carried on, her voice becoming shrill and piercing. ‘He promised me freedom. He promised me land of my own. And I believed him.' She turned to face him, pointing at him with her bony finger. ‘You thought I was stupid, Userkaf,' she said, and tears began to fall down her cheeks. ‘And you were right. I did what you wanted me to do because I didn't see that you would never keep your promises.'

‘And what did he want you to do?' The vizier's voice broke through the murmur of the crowd, stilling it.

‘I stole from the embalmers' workshops,' said Nofret. ‘Amulets. Golden amulets. I knew how to access the stores because my father had taught me
how to steal as a child.' She stood with her shoulders shaking, a poor, broken figure of a girl, wracked with sobs. ‘I gave the amulets to my master and he sold them to passing traders. That is all I know.'

Meryt found that her whole body was tense. She was clutching Kenna's wrist, so tightly that he had to gently prise off her fingers. She met his gaze briefly and saw the wonder in his eyes as the truth of the tale unfolded.

‘You say your father was a thief,' commented the vizier, raising his eyebrows.

Nofret nodded, wiping the tears off her cheeks with her arm and sniffing loudly. ‘I don't care about that either. He may have been a thief, but I loved him. And now you will send me to join him in the Next World.'

She bowed her head, almost as though she expected to be whipped upon the spot. There was a moment of uncertainty. No one seemed sure what to do. And then Sennedjem stood, and walked over to the servant girl. He placed a hand upon her shoulder and led her back towards his own chair, and told her to stand there next to him.

He addressed the vizier. ‘I believe that is all, my lord,' he said. ‘We can adjourn.'

The crowd stirred and shuffled and rearranged themselves while the vizier and his officials were led through the village gate to the house of Sennedjem, where they would be attended on by his sons and servants while they discussed the case and came to a decision.

Meryt saw Nebnufer and his family being escorted back to their house. To her satisfaction, she also noticed that all the witnesses were being guarded by members of the Medjay. She hoped that, at last, the forces of
maat
were holding sway.

She and Kenna decided to keep their places by the edge of the square. The vizier was a busy man; they would not have to wait all day.

‘They say he is a merciful vizier,' murmured Kenna, at her side.

Meryt nodded. ‘I hope it is true.' It was impossible to avoid the verdicts that would soon be made – and the punishments that would follow. She still felt nervous, despite the testimonies of both Kha and Nofret, for so much had come to light so suddenly that she did not know what the vizier would make of it. She feared for Kha, and thought once more of her dream – there he stood on the hilltop, dressed in rags … she had been wrong about some of it. Might she be wrong about his punishment too?

‘Anyone would think it was you who was on trial,' said Kenna. She looked up and saw that he was studying her. ‘You are shaking, Meryt.'

‘I … I have much to tell you, Kenna,' she said. ‘These past weeks have taught me so much.'

He nodded. ‘I know.' He smiled at her gently. ‘I have seen it. I would like to understand, but I fear that it is beyond me. I am only a simple messenger.'

‘You are far more than that!' The words escaped Meryt's lips before she could stop them. ‘I don't
know what I would do without you.'

‘Perhaps you would lean on Ramose,' said Kenna, with a lopsided grin.

Meryt stared at him. Even now, he spoke of it so lightly! How would he respond when he knew that the marriage was not taking place? She opened her mouth to tell him when the blast of a fanfare sounded and drowned out the words as they formed on her lips.

Some of the villagers had drifted away from the square and were chattering together in little groups. Now, they hurried back, jostling for position as the vizier's entourage appeared once more. One group of Medjay officers stepped forward with Nebnufer and his family, while another prodded Userkaf and his friends to the edge of the square. Kha and Nofret had a guard of their own and stood together.

The vizier took his seat, and Sennedjem stood to address the crowd.

‘People of Set Maat – life, prosperity, health!' he began. ‘The vizier has reached his conclusions. Listen, and receive the rule of
maat
at his hand.'

A deathly silence fell. Somewhere in the village, a donkey brayed, its squeaking call echoing along the cliffs. A gust of wind flapped the vizier's tunic, and he brushed an arm across his eyes, frowning at the dust. And then he stood.

‘People of Set Maat,' he said, ‘I have considered the case of Nebnufer your foreman. He works hard, and he demands the same of his men. But I see
nothing in him that is not fair and true.'

The crowd gasped and muttered, then grew quiet again as the vizier raised his hand.

‘I do not find him guilty of this theft. A foreman he is, and a foreman he will remain.'

The gasps grew louder, and Meryt's eyes filled with tears of happiness. She looked over at Nebnufer and his family. The foreman and his wife stood tall, dignified in justice just as they had been in accusation. But Dedi, Meryt saw, was leaning on her brother Ahmose, weeping with relief.

‘Bring forth the witnesses!' Sennedjem's voice called out.

The Medjay pushed forward Userkaf and the vizier regarded him coldly.

‘I have heard your complaints, Userkaf the draughtsman,' he said. ‘You are an ambitious man and your greed has been your downfall. I might not have believed your servant girl, but for this: I was at the embalmers' workshops only this morning. The loss of amulets has not gone unnoticed.'

He paused, and Meryt lowered her gaze. There was a glint of something hard and cruel in the great man's face that she could not bear to look upon any longer.

‘You have stolen from the king's officials. You have stolen from the Great Place. You have tried to bring down a man appointed by my office. These are heavy crimes for which you must be punished.'

It was as though the whole crowd were holding its
breath. Meryt still could not look up. She felt sick.

‘Take him out into the desert and impale him on a stake.'

The silence was broken by a woman's wail, howling across the square. Meryt glanced upwards, and caught a glimpse of the wife of Userkaf hurling herself across the reed matting towards her husband, who had fallen to his knees in shock. The Medjay grabbed her and dragged her away. Others pulled Userkaf to his feet. Meryt forced herself to watch as the draughtsman was led away and his followers were brought before the vizier as a group.

‘Cut off their ears!' he cried. ‘That will teach them not to listen to troublemakers!' The crowd gasped again, then sighed and breathed easier, relieved that it was their ears and not their lives that they were losing.

And then it was Kha's turn. The vizier eyed him with interest, playing with the fat gold rings that adorned his fingers, then rubbing his hands together. ‘Kha. Painter Kha. You are an interesting case,' he said. ‘You chose to aid the ringleader and then you thought better of it.' He stroked his chin. ‘I cannot decide if you are a coward or a man of courage. A thief or an honest man. To be punished or rewarded.'

Meryt was looking away again. This was too much. She was glad she was seated for she was sure her legs would not support her if she stood.

‘I tend to think you should be punished so that you do not make the same mistake again. One hundred lashes!'

Meryt felt dizzy. She had never imagined that Kha would be punished. She had been so sure of his innocence.
He has been pardoned by his god
. What did this mean, if not that he would walk away untouched? But then she thought of what he had done, and knew that his punishment was light. A hundred lashes could be endured and he would return to his work in the tombs, a poor man, but alive – scarred – but free …

She made herself look up again to see Nofret step forward, her thin face pinched and tight with fear. Meryt's eyes blurred with tears and she bit her lip, blinking them away to see the expression on the face of the vizier.

There was a faint sneer on his lips. Rather than stand, he sat back down on his seat, and looked Nofret up and down. He eyed her scrawny body with disdain.

‘I have better things to do than deal with servant girls,' he said, with a shrug. ‘She is a common thief. She must be punished but she is not worth the effort of a lashing. Let one of the village men take her and use her as he sees fit.'

Meryt felt a wave of horror, for everyone knew what
that
meant. It was as good as a death sentence, or possibly worse. She looked around the crowd at the faces of the men, many filled with greed and lust. Some even licked their lips, and she felt the nausea rising in her stomach all over again. But there was a pause, for the villagers were reluctant to push
themselves forward in front of such a great man.

And into that pause, someone spoke.

‘She is mine.' The man spoke clearly, stepping into the square with his head held high.

It was Nebnufer.

The vizier raised an eyebrow, and gave a sort of smile. He spread his hands. ‘And much fun may you have with her,' he said, in a cynical tone.

But Nebnufer did not move. ‘I shall not use her badly, my lord,' he said. ‘I consider she has done a great thing for me today. She may even have saved my life. For that I will give her to my daughter Dedi as a maidservant and I shall teach her the ways of
maat
.'

The vizier made an arch with his fingers, studying the foreman through narrowed eyes. Then he turned to the crowd. ‘Do the villagers think well of this?' he asked.

In the roar of approval that followed, the villagers rose to their feet and shouted praises to the vizier, the voice of their god and king. Meryt and Kenna rose with them and joined in, clapping with joy.

The vizier's entourage did not linger. At a click of the great man's fingers, the chariots were brought forward and he was soon on his way, heading back across the river to the east bank. Exhausted, the villagers began to disperse. The fate of Userkaf flashed through Meryt's mind and she pushed it away. The punishment of the gods was just. Instead, she thought of Nebnufer and his family, Nofret, and the
happy future that was now assured for Dedi and Neben-Maat.

The thought of this reminded her of Ramose. As she and Kenna wandered through the village gate, she knew the time had come to give Kenna the news at last.

‘I was about to tell you something, just as the vizier came back,' she said.

‘Were you?' Kenna grinned. ‘Go on then.'

Meryt took a deep breath. ‘I am not going to marry Ramose,' she said.

‘Is that it?'

‘Yes!' she exclaimed. ‘Why? Did you expect more?'

Kenna shrugged, and laughed. ‘I thought you were going to say you knew something about all that business with Nofret.'

‘Oh!' Meryt stared at him, feeling her cheeks growing hot. She was about to turn away in frustration when Kenna touched her arm.

‘I'm glad,' he said. ‘About Ramose, I mean.'

‘Are you sure?' Meryt stared at him indignantly.

‘Look at it this way,' said Kenna. ‘I need company when I go to the market. Who would I take with me if you were to marry?' His eyes smiled down at her.

And Meryt smiled back.

Maps and Glossary

This book is a story, so none of the characters really existed. But the village of Set Maat is a real place (you can still visit its ruins at modern-day Deir el Medina) and it was built especially for the Egyptian kings' tomb-builders to live in. The village thrived for about 300 years during the New Kingdom, when kings were no longer buried in pyramids but preferred tombs hidden in the rocks. Much has been learnt about the villagers of Set Maat – how they lived, which gods they worshipped, what they ate and even how hard they worked. Many of these facts are woven into Meryt-Re's story.

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