Orphan of the Sun by Gill Harvey Read Free Book Online

Userkaf.
    There still seemed little sense in such a riskyaction. Amulets held great power – especially an
udjat
eye such as this – but it was surely beyond a man like Userkaf to make use of it. In any case, as she and Kenna had discussed only that morning, Userkaf was already popular and well connected. He was never short of offers of beer from his colleagues, and as a draughtsman, his skills were always in demand. He could command high prices for moonlighting for other villagers, for officials elsewhere, in fact for anyone who could afford to have their tomb decorated in the royal style. Userkaf lacked for nothing, and would surely not wish to bring the wrath of either the village or the gods upon his head. He got into enough trouble as it was with his riotous ways!
    Meryt slipped back into the village and walked up the main street to her home. Nofret had long since vanished. She remembered with relief that Senmut and Baki were away working in the royal tombs, and that there would be relative peace in the household for a few days. The men were supposed to work an eight-day week with two days’ break at the end, but frequently found excuses to make the week shorter, or to return on some kind of pretext halfway through. If Senmut was training Baki, they might actually stay away for as long as they had intended.
    Tia was working away on the loom once more, while Nauna had returned and had taken Meryt’s place with the flax and spindle. Their row of the day before appeared to have simmered down, and Tia smiled as Meryt entered.
    â€˜This will soon be big enough for a kilt,’ she said, indicating the cloth on the loom. ‘Then I’ll be able to make Henut a winter dress.’
    â€˜Dress for me?’ piped up Henut, who was in the process of smearing charcoal all over her podgy body. ‘A pretty one?’
    â€˜Yes, a pretty one,’ Tia smiled at her.
    Such an everyday scene made Meryt feel more at ease, as though the strange events of the last two days were somehow unreal. ‘I’ll take over, if you like,’ she said to Nauna. ‘You can take a break.’
    Nauna nodded, and got to her feet. ‘Don’t tangle the thread,’ she said gruffly, handing the spindle to Meryt.
    â€˜Of course not,’ Meryt replied politely, used to Nauna’s ungraciousness. The fact was that Nauna’s eyesight was not as sharp as it had once been, and if anyone tangled the thread, she did – but it didn’t do to point out such things. Nauna’s wrath was best left unkindled.
    Meryt sat cross-legged and lost herself in the work, letting thoughts of recent events wash over her. She thought again of her dream, and her encounter with Ramose … she relived the memory of his chubby body and his gasp of surprise as she ran into him. She wondered if she should tell Tia, but then decided against it. She would stick to her resolve, and wait for further guidance. She bent over the spindle.
    The evening was drawing in when Meryt heard the sound of wailing go up, somewhere in thesouth-west of the village. She sat upright and listened. There was no mistaking it: the piercing cry of a mother and her friends and family as death visited a household. It was an all-too-familiar sound in Set Maat, but this time Meryt knew with certainty where it was coming from. It was as though a voice spoke clearly in her head:
Tanefru’s newborn has died
.
    She put down the spindle and hurried out of the house, making her way to Dedi’s home. As she drew near, it became clear that she was right. A crowd of women had gathered around the house next door, and from inside came the shrieking and moaning of the newly bereaved. Dedi and her mother, Wab, would be somewhere among them, Meryt was sure.
    She spotted Dedi just inside Tanefru’s house, and went to her side. Together they joined in the chorus of stricken wailing that filled the house and the street outside. Meryt clutched the amulet