Orphan of the Sun by Gill Harvey Page A

she settled down to work at the loom, Nauna made her excuses and went up to the roof, and Meryt relaxed. For once, being at home was peaceful; Mose sat nearby, scribbling all the lessons he had learnt on a pile of ostraca, while Henut played her favourite game of teasing the cats. Meryt worked steadily through the afternoon until Baki awoke and shouted out from his bed, demanding beer. She took him a cupful just as Kenna called from the street.
    â€˜Shhh, Kenna! Tia is sleeping,’ Meryt called back, in a low voice. ‘I’ll be with you in a minute.’
    â€˜Where are you going?’ demanded Baki.
    â€˜None of your business,’ Meryt responded curtly.
    Baki’s eyes flashed. ‘Things are going to change around here, Meryt,’ he said. ‘I’ll soon make it my business to know where you go.’
    Meryt felt a frisson of fear, but kept her featuresstill. ‘I’d like to see you try.’
    â€˜Just you wait,’ muttered Baki.
    Meryt glared at her cousin. It was strange, seeing him without the side-lock of youth that she was so used to. His whole head was now a dome of tiny bristles, which somehow suited him, but the fact was that she had reason to fear what it represented. Baki was no longer a boy; and with both men of the house against her, things could indeed ‘change around here’.
    She dumped a flagon of beer by the side of his bed, then quickly tidied up the weaving in the courtyard before hurrying through the house to find Kenna.
    The street was already busy, for the weekly parade of the oracle – like the council meetings – brought everyone out in droves. The statue of the god Amenhotep I was carried on the shoulders of four priests, stopping to answer the questions of the villagers as it went along. It was easy to tell the god’s opinion, for when he said yes, he caused the priests to move forward; when he said no, they moved backwards. Meryt had never dared ask the god a question, for what if he gave an answer she did not want to hear – in front of all the other villagers? But watching others do so was one of her favourite pastimes, all the same.
    Dedi was waiting for them in the doorway of her home. News of Userkaf’s plans had definitely spread, for a few villagers were hanging around nearby, waiting to see if Nebnufer would emerge.
    â€˜Let’s get up to the shrine,’ said Dedi, joining her two friends on the street. ‘I hate it when everyone stares.’
    Kenna smiled sympathetically, and Meryt watched him, biting her lip. Now that she had become aware of it, she couldn’t believe that she hadn’t noticed his attraction to Dedi before. It was written over his whole body – the way he bent towards her, the way he smiled, the way he listened to what she said. As they walked up the street, Meryt fell behind, battling with herself.
Kenna would never act on it
, she scolded herself.
Dedi is engaged to Neben-Maat
. But however often she repeated it, the niggling ache inside her stayed the same.
    The parade of the oracle set out from the shrine of Amenhotep and Ahmes Nefertari, which was nestled among the other gods’ chapels to the north-west of the village. From there, it moved down to the village gate and along the main street before returning the same way. The villagers ran in front and behind, singing hymns of praise and offering flowers, while anyone with a question ran into the path of the oracle and fell to their knees to ask it.
    A priest was already standing at the entrance to the shrine. He was barely recognisable as one of the workmen on Sennedjem’s gang, a carpenter who built the scaffolding in the tombs. As part of a rigorous purification, the carpenter had completely shaved his head and his body – even his eyebrows – and stood silently at the gates, surveying the crowdthat was slowly gathering.
    Meryt, Kenna and Dedi squatted in the shadow of a nearby chapel. Dedi was quiet and