Orphan of the Sun Read Online Free PDF Page A

Peshedu, Meryt’s father, to whom Tia made regular offerings.
    Meryt approached this niche and balanced her own little ostracon against the bust. Then, with the wick from the lamp, she lit the incense and knelt before the niche.
    â€˜I give praise to you, Hathor, Lady of Heaven, Mistress of all the Gods,’ she murmured, swinging the incense burner. ‘May life, prosperity, health be yours. I turn to you as your humble servant, Meryt-Re, daughter of Peshedu and Simut. Answer my prayer: must I marry Ramose against my will?’
    She repeated the prayer seven times, wafting the burner gently to and fro and breathing in the heady scent. Then she sat in silence as the incense burnt out, leaving nothing but a few blackened scraps. Meryt put the burner away, then picked up the lamp and the ostracon and padded back through the house and up on to the roof once more. The colder end of the year was approaching and the desert nights weregrowing cool, but it was still just warm enough to sleep out. Meryt lay on one of the reed mats and pulled a linen sheet over her, then lay staring at her ostracon in the darkness.
    She had never made such a request before. Of course, she had made offerings to the gods and her father out of respect, along with everyone else, and the presence of the god Re had warmed her for as long as she could remember. But she had never needed to ask anything of this nature, and she was unsure what would happen next. She thought for a few moments, then placed the ostracon near her head. Perhaps it would be in her dreams that the goddess would answer her.
    The night was still. Meryt could hear the murmur of voices from the surrounding houses, and the yelp of a dog, somewhere down towards the river valley. At the far end of the village someone was throwing a party, and the strains of music and laughter floated over the rooftops. Meryt lay and looked up at the stars, mulling over the day’s events.
    A voice broke into her thoughts, calling from the street below.
    â€˜Meryt!’
    Meryt threw off the sheet and got up to peer over the wall. It was her friend Kenna who stood there, grinning and staring up at her. ‘Kenna! What is it?’ she whispered.
    â€˜I am going to trade some grain for my father in the morning,’ he told her. ‘We are having gueststomorrow night, and he wants me to exchange it for some extra fish in the market. Will you come with me?’
    â€˜I’d love to!’ exclaimed Meryt. ‘Are you leaving early?’
    â€˜Just after dawn,’ said Kenna. ‘Father says we can take the donkey. I’ll come and wake you.’
    Meryt grinned and nodded. ‘See you then.’
    A noisy gaggle of geese flying overhead woke Meryt before Kenna returned. She sat up and looked to the east, where the pink light of dawn was spreading. Meryt waited for the first glimmer of sunlight before standing to stretch and yawn. As she did so, she caught sight of her ostracon, and frowned. She racked her brains for images, but no – there was nothing. Her sleep had been dreamless. Meryt swallowed her disappointment and ripped off a piece of linen from the sheet. She was wrapping it around the ostracon when she heard Kenna’s voice, calling softly from below.
    â€˜Coming!’ she called back, and hastily hid the ostracon under the mats in the corner. Then she skipped silently down the steps and into the courtyard. She took a hunk of bread and two leeks from the store, then hurried through the house, where the rest of the family still lay sleeping.
    Kenna was sitting astride his father’s donkey. He grinned at Meryt and grabbed her elbow as she hoisted herself up lightly behind him. Kenna tappedthe donkey with a stick and they set off at a trot, taking the main street to the northern gate of the village, then the wide road that led down to the grand mortuary temples of the plain.
    Once away from the village, Meryt began to relax. Trips to the market were