Kiya and the God of Chaos

by Philippa Bower

  Chapter Fourteen: Flight

  Huy laid Dennu on the bed, where he lay pale and unmoving.

  Kiya knelt down and laid an anxious hand on his forehead. It was warm – too warm. She glanced up at Huy. “What will happen if the villagers tell Massui that you helped us?”

  Huy shrugged. “They can tell him what they like, for I do not intend to go back. I have every respect for a strong ruler but the man has gone too far. The remains you saw in the square were those of a donkey thief. We had to crush him this morning, even thought his crime did not warrant the death penalty. Such brutality sickens me.” He raised his head and called out to Laylos. “Hurry up with that medicine, woman. We must get going.”

  Laylos came out with a goblet. “What an overbearing man you are, Huy. You don’t have to accompany us, you know. Hold up Dennu’s head so I can give him this.”

  Huy supported the limp body into a sitting position and held his head. Laylos prised open his mouth and slowly poured in the liquid. Kiya watched anxiously as Dennu swallowed the medicine with jerky movements of his throat.

  The goblet was almost empty when Dennu coughed and, moments later, twisted sideways and started retching over the side of the mattress. The movement revealed bloody wheals on his back.

  “What has happened to that poor boy?” cried Laylos. “I must get salve and bandages.”

  “We can’t waste time,” objected Huy. “Just find a garment to cover the wounds.” Laylos tutted her protest and hurried into the house.

  By the time Laylos came out with a tunic, Dennu had lapsed into unconsciousness once more. Huy had to hold him upright while Kiya and Laylos struggled to dress him. Kiya saw with dismay that their efforts had caused his wounds to break open and start bleeding again.

  “He’s not ready to go yet!” protested Laylos as Huy lifted Dennu into his arms. “He needs something to bring his fever down and ointment for his back.”

  “We cannot wait, Aunt. Dennu’s escape will soon be discovered,” said Kiya.

  Huy carried Dennu out of the compound to where the horse was tethered and Kiya hurried after him.

  “Hold the animal steady,” Huy commanded. Kiya took the reins clumsily and the horse snorted and tossed its head. Huy hoisted Dennu over the creature’s shoulders as it tried to sidestep away from him.

  “Whoa!” he took the reins from Kiya. “Not used to horses are you, girl?”

  “No!” said Kiya and glared at the huge, unmanageable beast.

  Laylos emerged from the stockade, leading the donkey. “Wait while I secure the door,” she said. She tied the stockade door shut with the leather thongs that were attached to the fence. Did she really think she might return? thought Kiya and wondered if Laylos had truly understood the trouble they were in.

  “Would you like to ride on the horse with me, Laylos? You will have to hold on tight.” Huy winked and grinned at her.

  “The very idea!” She bridled. “Kiya and I will walk with the donkey.”

  Huy laughed and set off a brisk pace along the riverside path towards Ankhis. Kiya was far enough behind to quiz her aunt.

  “How do you know Huy?” she asked.

  “I worked at the palace when I was young,” Laylos said. “I was a kitchen maid and Huy and Bai were guards. Both of them took a fancy to me and I delighted in teasing them. Indeed I liked them both equally. In the end Huy lost interest and I married Bai.”

  “Two lovers, Aunt?” said Kiya, with a grin. “The palace was a greater hotbed of vice than a temple could ever be.”

  “Ridiculous child,” said Laylos but there was a lilt to her voice and a sparkle in her eyes. “We left the palace and went to live with my parents. Huy never came visiting, even though Bai had been his best friend. Eventually, we heard he had gone to Helwan.”

  “And now he is back,” said Kiya and wondered how much of the old romance still remained.

  They reached Ankhis, where a small group of villagers were still standing around the body of the traveller.

  “Why should I have to bury him?” Fai-Nofre sounded indignant.

  “It was your fault he was killed,” said one of the villagers and the others agreed.

  Kiya hoped they would pass unnoticed, but a voice rang out. “Where are you off to, Laylos?”

  “It’s none of your business,” said Huy. He wore the breast plate of a palace guard and spoke with such authority that the people fell silent.

  The road north from Ankhis was as dusty and uneven as Kiya remembered from her ox-cart journey. As she trudged along beside Laylos she worried that her parents might be angry to see her home so soon. If the guards were still looking for her, the money that had bought her safety would have been wasted.

  “Who would have thought it would come to this,” murmured Laylos.

  “I’m so sorry,” said Kiya, mortified at having placed her aunt in such danger.

  Laylos reassured her. “I speak not of myself but of Dennu. Poor boy, it all started so well. His mother was a Cretan warrior, a princess of the royal line. She led a raiding party that was ambushed by Massui and his soldiers.” Kiya listened with interest. Cretan blood would explain Dennu’s fine nose and slender waist. “Massui was a handsome young man in those days, well-born and powerful. He felled Zahra’s horse with a single blow of his battle axe, then saved her from the wreckage of her chariot. He took her prisoner, intending to hold her for ransom, but the two of them fell in love.”

  “How romantic,” said Kiya and tried to imagine Massui as a handsome young suitor.

  “The palace was like a paradise on earth,” Laylos sighed. “Massui built a pleasure garden for his new wife, with a boating lake and fish ponds and a myriad scented flowers. But, after many happy years, Zahra died in childbirth and so did the baby, who would have been a brother for Dennu.”

  Kiya almost felt sorry for the priest. “What a tragedy,” she said. “He must have been a very different man in those days.”

  “You are right,” said Laylos. “His heart has turned to stone. Poor Dennu has grown up in a dark and lonely place. But who would have thought Massui would turn on his son with such ferocity?”

  Ahead of them was a roadside building. A painted inn hieroglyph and empty hitching rail distinguished it from the other houses that dotted the countryside.

  “There’s Fai-Nofre’s inn. It would be a good place to take a break,” said Laylos. “I saw him in the village, so he won’t be here.”

  Kiya watched Huy, who was riding well ahead, pass the inn without a glance. “Have we got time to stop?” she asked her aunt. “We are not even half way to Qato.”

  “I don’t know about you,” said Laylos. “But my feet are killing me and we must see to the boy’s back.”

  The door of the inn was shut. “Supposing it is locked?” said Kiya, half hoping that it would be so.

  Laylos pushed on the door and it opened. “Hello?” she called out. There was no answer. Laylos yelled down the road, “Huy! Come back!”

  Kiya groaned. Why did her aunt have to treat Huy with such haughtiness? If he took offence he could ride off and leave them. Indeed, she was surprised he had not already done so.

  Huy reigned in his horse and looked around. “What is it?”

  “We need to treat Dennu.”

  Huy looked worried. “We have no time,” he said.

  “Then we must make time. The sooner we start the sooner we will finish.”

  Huy gave in with good grace and turned his horse around.

  Kiya followed Laylos into the building and inspected the bar. It was dark and smelt of stale beer. There was a wooden counter on which stood a barrel and several beakers. Two doors at the rear of the room led to bedrooms, which Kiya checked were unoccupied. Between the bedrooms was a short corridor. Kiya went down it and found that it led to a high-walled courtyard. She wrinkled her nose at the strong smell of yeast, which came from a vat of fermenting beer. This must be where Fai-Nofre had put the donkey.

  When Kiya returned to the house
she saw that Huy had taken Dennu to one of the bedrooms and laid him on the bed. Laylos fussed over the invalid. “He’s still alive,” she said, “although his temperature is high.” She rummaged in her bag, brought out the medicine book and pointed out one of the hieroglyphs to Kiya. “This is the spell for breaking a fever. Write it out, Kiya, while we start bandaging his wounds.”

  Kiya unpacked a pen, a small jar of ink and a square of parchment from her aunt’s bag. She took them into the bar and laid them on the counter, which looked none-too clean. Swiftly, she copied the spell Laylos had indicated and took it into the bedroom.

  Laylos and Huy were binding strips of linen around Dennu’s torso. “We’re nearly finished,” said Laylos. “Bring some me some beer, please, dear, so I can give him a pill.”

  Kiya returned to the bar and was pouring a beaker of beer when she heard, faint and far away, the sound of hoof beats. She hurried to the front door and looked out. With a sickening lurch of her stomach she saw two horsemen riding down the road towards them.