with water jars, my own closet, into my bedroom, where several rooms leading off it were evidently for the accommodation of my wives and children.
It was dark and cold. Someone had lit several lamps, but the rooms felt unoccupied. My own footsteps echoed. I took a woven blanket off the huge bed and something small and dark clacked to the floor, skittering into a corner.
I laid down my lamp, chased, cornered and crushed it.
It was the wrong time of the year for scorpions to invade the houses of men. It was not even spring. Someone must have gone to considerable trouble to find the poisonous insect in winter. I stood contemplating the still writhing carcass for some time.
Then I shook out the blanket, wrapped myself in it, and sat down in the alcove beside the door to think.
My first thought, that I could bring my dear love to the palace, must be dismissed. Kheperren would be an instrument for the palace to use against me, a hostage to my fortune. I did not greatly mind dying. I would join my grandfather in the Field of Reeds. I still missed my grandfather. But Kheperren was young, he had every right to live, and he could not live if he was with me.
I almost wept again at the thought. The idea that as Great Royal Scribe I could be reunited with him had been a warm glow at my heart for the whole strange day and night I had spent in Pharaoh’s palace. Indeed, I could not even see him again, or I might bring retribution down on him wherever he was. I must get a message to him before I took up my duties, for after that I would always be noticed and probably followed. Oh my brother, I mourned in the darkness of my elaborate rooms. Oh my heart, I have lost you, I have lost you.
I might have sat there in lonely misery all night if I had not heard footsteps approaching. They were confident and heavy, yet not mailed; not a soldier. I threw open the door, more angry than afraid, about to demand of the visitor whether they had any more scorpions.
‘Master,’ said Meryt, dropping to one knee. I laid one hand on her curly hair in token of possession. She gave me the invoice for ten copper ingots which made her mine.
I was so glad to see her that I could have embraced her. She was dressed in a patterned cloth, which must have been the parting present of her previous master. On her strong shoulder she bore a large basket, and in her hand she carried a bundle of papyrus rolls. She lowered her burden to the floor and smiled at me.
‘I thought that they would not have attended to you, Master,’ she said deferentially. ‘So I brought some 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