Out of the Black Land by Kerry Greenwood Read Free Book Online

food from the King’s kitchen. No hands but the cook’s and mine have touched it,’ she added, drawing forth some cooked duck, several loaves of bread, some grapes and a cinnamon cake. ‘There is also wine,’ she added.
‘You are kind,’ I said gratefully. ‘But you are in danger the whole time you are with me, and possibly I should not have done this to you after all, you showed me nothing but good will. Come, Meryt, look here.’
I showed her the remains of the scorpion, and she looked grave.
‘It is as I said, Master,’ she commented. ‘Tomorrow you must find some companions—such as can be trusted. But tonight we can search the bedding and remove any more. I am a slave,’ she said to me, her dark face hard to read in the dim light. ‘But I will serve you gladly, Master, for they seek your death, and that is not just. This appointment was none of your seeking, Lord Ptah-hotep. They gave me these, Lord, telling of your estates.’
‘My estates?’
I unrolled the papyri on the table. I read them. I rubbed my eyes. I read them again. I was indeed rich. I owned the yearly tribute of five villages, eleven vineyards, two hide-dressers and a stone quarry in Syene. My goods were all stored in the palace warehouses. I could have bought the School of Scribes and had goods left over for the Sacred Barge at Karnak. I felt dizzy. Meryt saw this and pushed me gently down onto an ebony chair.
‘Sit there, Master, have some wine and some of this good bread, and I’ll search the bedroom and make sure it is safe. Tomorrow my lord will be pleased to consider who may deserve the honour of a place in my Lord’s household. Tonight my lord needs rest.’
I drank wine red as blood and ate some meat and bread. I heard Meryt shaking out bedclothes, humming to herself and then singing softly. Light bloomed golden as she lit the big alabaster lamp in the shape of an ibis, symbol of Thoth God of Learning, patron of scribes.
‘Come, Master, it’s all well,’ she called, and I took my wine into my bedroom.
‘Meryt, eat,’ I said belatedly, and she hauled the basket into the room and closed the studded door. It latched with a click and I suddenly felt a good deal more secure. The bed was comfortable and I leaned against the painted wall and began to relax for the first time since I had entered my apartments.
Meryt sat down cross legged on the floor and ate. I liked watching her strong white teeth as she bit and swallowed, saying, ‘I never fed this well, Master, since I came to Pharaoh’s palace!’
‘How did you come here?’ I asked. I needed to know all about her, this woman whom I had so casually bought and paid for.
‘My father was a chief,’ she said matter-of-factly. ‘He ambushed and killed a trading mission. Then the soldiers came, killed our young men, captured us and burned our village. I was a child. I have always been hungry since then. Not starving, Master, no slave starves in the palace. But there has always been a corner that could be filled. When I grew tall I showed a talent for healing, and the Chamberlain made me his healer, to attend to the slaves.’
So, taking me to Meryt had been an insult. It had, however, not been recognised at the time, which meant that its aim had been bad. And it had given me Meryt, who liked me. And if my estates sufficed to continue to feed her to satiety, she would probably be faithful. I was pleased with the outcome of my first insult in Pharaoh’s service, and sure that it would not be the last.
‘And then you bought me from that old man and here I am,’ she concluded, breaking the last cinnamon cake and giving half to me. ‘And I am yours, Master.’
I bit into the cinnamon cake and returned the grin.
I lay with her in the Great Royal Scribes’ bed, and refused her offer of her body. She was a little puzzled, but not offended, and we huddled close and warm until morning.
I woke with an arm over my chest. For a moment I was flooded with affection, believing that I lay