Kiya and the God of Chaos

by Philippa Bower

  Chapter Two: The Temple

  The temple complex of Ipet-Isut was the largest in Egypt. The guards looked like dwarves as they stood under the archway that joined the vast tapered entrance towers. Bright, flapping banners flew on poles and, beyond the walls, gold-capped obelisks glittered in the sunlight among dazzling, white buildings.

  Despite having made the journey daily, Kiya still felt awe at the sight of the temple and imagined she was entering a land of giants as she approached the guards.

  “Late again, Kiya?” said one of them.

  “Take me home with you and I’ll make sure you are aroused early,” said the other with a leering wink.

  Kiya managed a friendly laugh and hurried past, through the shadowed passageway between the entrance towers and into the sunlit expanse of the great courtyard. Statues of past kings and present gods stared at her with cold eyes as she hurried across the flagstones to the corridor that led to the assembly room.

  She could not hear the sound of drumming as she ran down the dimly-lit corridor. Perhaps the other girls were still warming up ready for the dance practice to begin. Kiya hoped she might be able to sneak in and join them without Urshu noticing that she was late. She held her breath and peered around the doorway – to look straight into the face of the dance master.

  Urshu stared at her, his hooded eyes shadowed with darkness. “Ah, Kiya, I see you have decided to grace us with your presence.”

  She glanced beyond the dance master to where a musician sat, staring at his drums, forbidden to look at the girls. “I apologise, but at least the practice has not yet started.”

  “You are insolent as well as tardy.” Anger stirred in the ice of Urshu’s eyes. “Get changed before you delay us further.”

  Kiya hurried to the pegs. She had not meant to be insolent, she was just pointing out a fact. Depressed at having upset the dance master, she stepped out of her shift and put on her tunic. She joined the other girls, bracing herself for further recriminations but Urshu said no more. He clapped his hands and they took up their places before him.

  “We will practise the glide,” commanded Urshu.

  The drummer started a slow beat and Kiya glided to the music, her upper body as still as a hovering bird. She could hear Urshu’s angry voice and, occasionally, the sound of his cane against a badly-positioned arm, or leg, as newer dancers struggled to achieve the desired effect.

  Kiya’s hunger grew. It was a long morning before Urshu clapped his hands and kitchen slaves brought in lunch. Copper trays, piled high with food, were placed on the oak table. Kiya joined the crowd of chattering girls and helped herself to bread and roast duck, plus a goblet of beer.

  “Come and talk to me, Kiya,” called Eopei in her sing-song voice. “I have such good news. Qelhatat is going to teach me the Dance of Seduction!”

  “Congratulations,” said Kiya, who had been doing the dance for months. “Such an honour is long overdue.”

  “What a pleasure it will be to seduce Osiris into ejaculating the stars of heaven.” Eopei was all smiles, excited by her new responsibilities. “I admit, I was cross that you and the other girls were chosen before me, but now all that is forgotten.”

  Kiya was glad to see Eopei in a better mood, her sulks had cast a shadow on their friendship. “Perhaps we’ll perform the dance together,” she said as she sat on the floor beside her. “Remember, it’s for the eyes of the gods alone. If you perform it to one of your admirers, he might have a heart attack.”

  Eopei laughed. “Have you ever excited a man, Kiya?”

  “No, you know how closely I am guarded by my parents. Besides, I have no interest in men. I want to do more in life than be a farmer’s wife and ruin my body by bearing his children.”

  “I agree, but a girl has to have fun,” said Eopei and then she pouted. “I wish my figure was as slender as yours, Kiya. Qelhatat says I have to lose weight. No more sneaking into Thebes to buy honey cakes.”

  “Poor Eopei.” Kiya put her arm around her friend’s shoulders in mock pity and pinched the plumpness of her ebony flesh. She was about to tell Eopei about her altercation with her mother when they were interrupted by the harsh voice of Urshu.

  “Lunch is over.”

  Slaves removed the remains of the meal, while Kiya and Eopei scrambled to their feet and joined the rest of the girls.

  Urshu checked that all was ready and then he left the room. Kiya could hear his voice in the corridor and then Qelhatat arrived at the doorway. She paused so all could admire the magnificence of her robes of office. Today she was wearing scarlet with a deep border of ankhs, the symbol of life, embroidered in thick, gold thread. She raised her arms, which were heavy with rings, bracelets and armlets. “Good afternoon, dancers, may the blessings of the gods be upon you.”

  What must it be like to live in such grandeur? wondered Kiya as she joined the chorused reply, “Good afternoon, Highness.”

  For a moment it seemed as if the eyes of the High Priestess rested upon her. Kiya could not judge her expression beneath the thick make-up she wore. Was she annoyed? Had Urshu told her that she had been late for dance practice? Surely he would not trouble the High Priestess with such a triviality. To Kiya’s relief, Qelhatat’s gaze moved on without a word being spoken.

  “Today we will practice for the Festival of Sobek,” she announced to the class. “Please arrange yourselves in your positions.”

  The dance had to replicate the movements of a crocodile as it followed the procession of priests to the Nile. Newer dancers struggled with the complex routine and Kiya grew bored with the constant repetition. She had learnt the dance before, when she had first joined the temple. It was difficult then, having to remember the steps and rippling arm movements while keeping a constant distance from the other dancers. Now she felt impatient and wished that the new girls would learn the dance more quickly.

  The long afternoon dragged on. There was the chink of glass against glass as slaves arranged goblets of wine on the copper trays on the table. Kiya’s heart rose - the sounds meant they were nearing the end of the class.

  Qelhatat clapped her hands and announced, “The time has come to prepare for the Dance of Safe Passage.”

  More slaves ran into the room, carrying wigs and boxes of make up. Kiya tried not to blink while kohl was drawn around her eyes in an almond shape, to replicate the eye of Horus. Red ochre was applied to her lips and cheeks and her hair was tucked up under an elaborate wig. She looked around at her fellow dancers, now no longer individuals but glamorous components of the great nightly ritual that brought sunlight back to the world.

  When the last slave had left the room, Qelhatat crossed over to the table and spread her arms. “I offer you wine, so your performance will delight Amun-Ra at the going down of the sun. If you please the god, his flaming chariot will rise again in the morning and carry him across the heavens.”

  “So be it,” they chorused. The ceremony had begun.

  Qelhatat stood with her back to the room, her wide cloak hiding the tray of drinks. She picked up a goblet, then turned and gave it to the first girl. “May this wine loosen your limbs, so you dance to the glory of Amun-Ra.”

  “So be it,” said the girl and took the drink.

  It was Kiya’s turn next. Qelhatat took a little bit longer to pick up the goblet, then she turned to Kiya with a smile. “May this wine loosen your limbs, so you dance to the glory of Amun-Ra.”

  “So be it,” said Kiya and took the drink.

  While the rest of the girls were being served, Kiya sipped the wine. It tasted different, sweeter than usual and with a metallic tang. She hesitated but, when she saw Qelhatat’s eyes upon her, she hurriedly drained the goblet.

  When all had drunk and replaced their goblets onto the tray, Qelhatat bowed her head and intoned the nightly prayer.

  “Oh, Amun-Ra, who rules the skies.

  Accept our homage we pray thee.

  As night falls and the stars appear

  May you travel safely t
hrough the underworld

  To bring your light to the earth tomorrow.”

  From the Temple of Amun-Ra came the sound of music as a hidden orchestra started to play. Kiya joined the line of girls that left the assembly room to enter the vastness of the place of worship. The procession of dancing girls wove around the gigantic columns that held the lintels of the temple roof. In this nightly ritual, there was no audience to admire their grace, only the gods, who stared down from the carved and painted columns.

  As the sun sank, its rays lit the upper paintings and, when she raised her head, Kiya could see Amun-Ra ride his golden chariot across the heavens. The dance was now for him alone, begging him to return from the darkness of the underworld and light the sky again tomorrow.

  The wailing of flutes joined the stringed instruments and the beat quickened. With the other dancers, Kiya twirled with increasing abandon. The line broke apart, she danced to a far corner of the temple - and then everything went black.