Orphan of the Sun by Gill Harvey Page B

played with a bracelet nervously, pushing it up and down her slender arm and casting sidelong glances at the shrine. Soon, the area was full of people, all waiting for the oracle to emerge.
    â€˜Is your father going to come out?’ Kenna asked her.
    Dedi nodded. ‘He and my mother together, as they did for the council meeting.’
    There was a hush as the carpenter priest raised his hand, then an excited murmur as the four priests came into sight with the statue of the god balanced on a litter held high on their shoulders.
    â€˜Behold our god Amenhotep – life, prosperity, health!’ cried the carpenter priest, now raising both his arms. ‘Come, people of Set Maat, and bring him your concerns, for he rules justly over us.’
    The statue moved forward slowly, the faces of the priests still and solemn. There was a flurry of movement as the first petitioner ran forward and prostrated himself before the oracle. The priests came to a halt.
    â€˜My lord Amenhotep – life, prosperity, health!’ cried the man. ‘My cattle have fallen sick. Will they die?’
    The crowd became silent, and the statue seemed to tremble for a moment. Then the priests stepped forward all at once, and everyone cheered, while agroup of singers started a hymn. The man bowed in gratitude and scurried back into the crowd.
    A woman was next, stepping forward to kneel with great dignity before the statue. ‘I have only daughters,’ she said in a clear voice. ‘We need a son. Will I bear one soon, my lord?’
    The statue shuddered, and the throng held its breath. Then, slowly, the priests stepped backwards – one step, then two, then a third. Everyone murmured and gasped, staring at the woman to gauge her reaction. She held on to her dignity well, rising slowly to her feet and turning away with her head bent.
    The oracle moved on. Meryt, Dedi and Kenna followed close behind, joining in with one of the hymns, as more villagers came forward with their queries. There was still no sign of Userkaf, and Meryt began to hope that it had all been a vicious rumour after all. The parade reached the village gate and began to process down the main street.
    Suddenly, a shout went up, and Meryt craned her neck. Kenna was taller, and she leant on his arm. ‘Can you see anything?’ she asked.
    â€˜It’s Nebnufer,’ he replied. ‘Dedi, your father is standing at the end of your alley. But I still can’t see Userkaf.’
    â€˜Perhaps fear has kept him away,’ said Meryt in a low voice, squeezing her friend’s arm.
    But she spoke too soon. The oracle had come to a halt and the crowd fell quiet. By moving to the edge of the parade, the three friends were able to seeUserkaf, elbowing his way forward to stand in front of the priests.
    The arrogant draughtsman did not prostrate himself. He stood with his head high so that everyone could see him.
    â€˜Lord Amenhotep of the village,’ he boomed. ‘Life, prosperity, health! Answer my question. Is Nebnufer our foreman working his men too hard?’
    The throng of villagers was now completely silent. A puppy began to bark and was silenced immediately. Everyone’s eyes rested on the priests and their sacred litter. For a moment, they seemed to sway forwards, and a ripple of excitement rose from the crowd. But the feet of the priests stayed still. Then slowly, surely, the litter swayed back, and the feet of the priests moved with it.
    â€˜No!’ The crowd shouted in unison, and then a riotous jabber of voices broke out. People pressed forward and the leading priest warned everyone back. ‘Respect Amenhotep our Lord! Let him continue his journey through the village!’
    Meryt stared at Userkaf, who was still standing in the way of the oracle. She watched the emotions flit across his face in fascination. This was not a man who was easily thwarted. She saw him turn to face Nebnufer with a grimace – but not a grimace