Kiya and the God of Chaos

by Philippa Bower

  Chapter Nine: Spy Holes

  Kiya was hauled down the hall, through a door, across a courtyard and into a small room, where she was flung onto a bed. Without a word, the guards left, shutting the door behind them.

  Kiya lay, clutching her bruised arms and listened to the thud of heavy bolts. Light entered through narrow slits above the door. They were too small even for her slender figure. She was trapped.

  After a few minutes, Kiya heard bolts drawn back. The door opened and a guard put a tray on the floor. On it were half a loaf and a jug of beer. He said nothing and left, securing the door behind him.

  Kiya sat up - at least they were not going to let her starve. She picked up the tray and put it on her lap. The bread was stale but she was hungry enough to finish it and thirsty enough to drink the watery beer. While she ate, she examined the room. A crudely-fashioned mural decorated the back wall. In the dim light she could see little but a winged snake.

  Curious, she put the tray aside and rose to her feet. When she neared the mural, she discerned a figure standing upon the serpent’s back. Her heart jumped when she thought she recognised Anubis. On closer inspection, the picture of her beloved god proved to be wrong in its details. The ears were not pointed, but chopped flat at the top. The muzzle was not straight, but curved. The head was not that of a jackal, but of a desert fox, a sly creature that lived in the ever-changing borderlands between desert and valley. With a sense of disappointment, Kiya realised that the rider was not Anubis but Seth, the Lord of Chaos, riding a storm serpent in one of his many incarnations.

  She stood before the painting and longed for Anubis. Dreamily she raised her arms outwards and upwards in graceful arch. She remained motionless for a moment, then lowered her arms again, her fingers bent back, stroking the air. The rest of her body joined in the Dance of Seduction. As the movements progressed, she relaxed into a trance-like state, so well known had the routine become. She curved her spine and languorously moved her hands down her stomach, then flung back her head in simulated ecstasy. One, two three, she counted the seconds as she held the pose. Her face was inches from the painted head of Seth, when she saw his eye blink! She froze, the dance forgotten - there was an eyehole in the wall!

  “Who’s there?” she shouted.

  A hidden door within the wall opened and a figure stood in the darkness with his finger to his lips. “Shush,” he said.

  He stepped forwards and she recognised the youth she had noticed in the hall. He was older than she had thought and tall enough to fill the doorway. He was also handsome with thick, dark hair and a fine nose.

  “How dare you spy on me!” she hissed.

  “I was not spying,” he said, affronted. “This passageway is to allow the guards to check upon prisoners. I was just making sure you are not hurt.”

  “My performance is for the eyes of the gods alone.”

  He nodded. “I believe it. I have never seen a woman dance in such a way.”

  “You shouldn’t have watched,” she said, annoyed by the gleam in his eyes. “What are you doing here? Have you come to rescue me? You had better get on with it before the real guards come.”

  He shook his head. “It would be too dangerous. I just came to look at you. You are very beautiful.”

  “So you were spying on me! If you are not here to help then go away.”

  He looked anguished. “If you are sent to Crocopolis you will be killed.”

  “Then help me escape." She sensed him hesitate and added in a brusque voice, "And hurry up about it.”

  He blinked and then bowed to her command. “I will help you, though I risk my life to do so. We must be quiet.” He stepped back into the passageway and beckoned to Kiya to follow. Then he shut and bolted the door behind them.

  It was dark in the corridor and narrow. When Kiya stretched out her hands, she could feel a rough wall on either side. The youth moved swiftly. The sound of his footsteps was soon well ahead, leaving Kiya struggling to keep up. After a while, the passage bent and Kiya stopped, confused by the sudden change of direction. She was going to follow the muffled footsteps of her rescuer, but she heard a voice and realised that there was a branch leading another way.

  “I sense something strange about the girl.” The utterance was as harsh and dry as a desert wind. “She was aware of my presence in the hall. Her eyes were upon me as I hid, a shadow among the shadows. How is that possible?”

  Kiya stared in the direction of the sound and saw a tiny beam of reddish light shafting through the darkness. She crept towards it and hesitated. The light was coming through an eyehole but she was frightened to look in case she was discovered. Faintly, above the dank smell of the passage, she was aware of the scent of Frankincense.

  “Why wait for the sacrifice, Lord Seth?” said a voice she recognised as Massui’s. “Perhaps we should kill her at once.”

  Kiya was horrified. The immortal she had sensed in the hall was the most feared of all the gods, the master of darkness and chaos. She might have known that a tyrant like Massui would worship a devil.

  “Really, Massui, your blood lust is becoming a liability,” drawled Seth. “I will leave to make enquiries. Meanwhile, a session in the pit should extract information. I do not want her slain – yet.”

  With bated breath, Kiya stepped forwards to hear more - and was yanked away by the arm!

  “Come on!” hissed the youth. She allowed herself to be dragged down the corridor until, eventually, he let her go and she followed him, rubbing her bruises and wishing that men in general – the fishermen, the guards and now him - would treat her arms more gently.

  The passageway sloped downwards, along, then upwards once more. Kiya wondered where the youth was leading her, when he stopped and she bumped into him.

  “Clumsy fool,” he growled.

  “I can see nothing,” she protested.

  “Wait there.” Seconds later a trap door above their heads opened and daylight flooded into the passage. Kiya saw that the youth was half way up a ladder. “Come on, quickly!” he said.

  She watched him climb out of the opening and then followed. Grass formed a thick fringe around the hole and, as Kiya's head rose above it, she observed that they were in the garden, their escape hidden from the house by bushes. She scrambled out and took a deep breath of fresh air.

  “Thank you.” She smiled at the youth, but he was angry.

  “You should have followed me, like I told you,” he said. “Why did you have to spy on my father? You could have got us both into trouble.”

  “I’m sorry. Is your father Massui?” He seemed too gentle to have such a lineage.

  “Yes. I am Dennu.” He paused as if expecting a response but, as she had never heard of him, she was uncertain what to say. His frown deepened. “Father will be furious if he discovers that I have helped you escape. You must go!” He pointed towards the road that led back to Ankhis.

  Kiya gazed at the reddening sky. “It will soon be dark. Can I stay in the garden until morning?”

  “No! When they discover you have escaped, they will think you used witchcraft and you will be killed at once if you are caught.”

  It was all too much for Kiya, she dreaded facing the perils of the night, and yet how much more fearful were the dangers of the palace? She began to cry. She tried to wipe her tears away but they rolled down her cheeks as she sobbed.