Chapter Twenty One: The Long Road Home
Massui’s men had caught up with them! Kiya felt faint with fear as she listened to hoof-beats pass the inn. Huy ran to the door and peered after the riders, then he turned, his grim face relaxing. “They were not soldiers but messengers,” he said.
“What is going on?” The innkeeper glared at them suspiciously. Kiya tried to smile but was still trembling from the shock of thinking they had been discovered.
A villager burst into the inn. “Did you hear the news, Wajmose?” he said to the innkeeper. “The King is dead!”
“Dead?” The innkeeper’s attention turned to the newcomer.
“Yes, messengers called out as they rode through the village.”
“Long live the new King,” said Huy.
“Indeed.” The innkeeper looked shocked by the news.
“We must be on our way,” said Huy. Kiya followed him as he strolled casually from the inn and they were joined by Laylos and Dennu. “We must not seem to be in a hurry, we have already aroused enough suspicion.” Huy unhitched the donkey and they set off along the road. Kiya glanced back and saw the innkeeper standing in the doorway staring after them. She hurriedly looked away.
The walk to Thebes took several days, staying at inns at night and buying provisions on the way. Kiya tried to avoid talking to Denny and eventually he took the hint and walked in sulky silence.
As their journey progressed, the road became wider and well beaten. Kiya knew they were nearing their destination when they were joined by many fellow travellers. Donkeys laden with barley and oats, women carrying baskets of palm brooms and linen, carts with large pottery vessels full of beer and wine, all headed for the city’s shops and markets. They followed a bend in the road and on the far side of the valley were familiar serrated cliffs and ahead Kiya could see the buildings and obelisks of Thebes.
“There it is!” she cried. “We are nearly home.”
“Thank the gods for that!” said Laylos. “If I had to walk much further my legs would be worn to stumps.”
When they entered the city, they found it bustling with activity. The pubs and wine bars were full of people and everywhere was a hum of conversation. News of the King’s death had stirred Thebes like a stick in a wasps’ nest. Kiya drew the hood of her travelling cloak closely over her head for fear of being recognised and hurried down the busy street, bowed down in the midst of her companions.
“What’s wrong?” asked Dennu. “Are you hiding from someone?”
“Yes,” she replied.
“Who?” He was agog with curiosity.
“Shush, Dennu,” said Laylos and Kiya was grateful she had come to her rescue. “We will tell you about it later, but in the meantime we must get Kiya safely home.”
“Have you heard the news?” someone called out to them from a group gathered near the temple.
Huy gave an acknowledging wave and they hurried on. They would be busy in the temple, Kiya thought, preparing to receive the King’s body before its burial. What of Anubis? How would he be affected by all the commotion? She longed to see him again but felt daunted by the difficulty of getting near the Sacred Lake.
“Don’t dawdle,” hissed Laylos. “I have never seen such a gathering of people.”
“I’m sorry,” apologised Kiya. She quickened her pace and they were soon through the town and out into the deserted countryside. By now darkness had closed in and the moon lit their way along the road.
“Is it far to your parent’s house?” asked Huy.
“No, we are nearly there,” said Kiya and she pointed to where a raised track left the road and ran between the flooded fields. The house and cowshed could just be seen in the distance, high above the waters as if on an island.
Home at last! Kiya’s heart quickened and she ran ahead of the others. No light shone from the window. There was no sign of any occupants. What of her parents were not there? What if they had been arrested? With dread in her heart she knocked upon the door and waited for a response. None came. She knocked again with increased urgency.
Kiya was joined by the others and was about to knock for a third time when her father called down from the roof.
“Yes? What is it?”
“It is I, Kiya,” she cried, relief flooding through her at the sound of the familiar, rough tones. “Please let me in.”
He leaned over the parapet, silhouetted against the moon. “Kiya? By the gods, child, what are you doing down there?”
“I have come home,” she said, but she was talking to air for Teos had disappeared. Moments later the door was flung open and he stretched out his arms.
“Welcome back, Kiya. Come inside quickly before you are seen.” He looked beyond her, peering into the darkness. “But who are these people with you?”
“I am Laylos,” said Kiya’s aunt, coming forwards out of the shadows and offering her hand.
“Ah, Laylos. Welcome. I would recognise you anywhere, you have the look of Ramala. And who are you?” he said to Huy.
“I am an escort,” said Huy, “and this boy, here, is in need of sanctuary.”
“Come in, come in! Oh dear, if only I had known you were coming I would have prepared a better welcome.” He struggled to light an oil lamp, his thick fingers gripping the flint clumsily. “There we are. At least we can see each other properly.”
“Kiya, darling.” Ramala came down the stairs. She was as fragile and beautiful as ever, wrapped in a coarse linen rug. “Why have you come home? It is still not safe.”
Kiya ran to her mother and was clasped in her arms. “I have missed you,” she said and she forced back the tears.
“Oh dear, oh dear, you should not have come home so soon, Kiya. You are in great danger. The house has been watched” said Ramala. “Did your aunt refuse to take you in?”
“Of course I took her in,” said Laylos, moving into the lamplight. “And I have been looking after her ever since.”
Ramala gave a startled cry. “Laylos? Can it really be you? Oh, my dear sister. How often I have thought of you and longed to see you again.”
“This is Huy, darling,” said Teos, interrupting the sisters' reunion. “And this boy is in need of sanctuary.”
Dennu stepped forward. “My name is Dennu. I hope not to intrude upon your hospitality for long.” He bowed with such grace that Ramala became flustered.
“Welcome to our humble home,” she said. “I fear we are ill prepared for visitors, you must forgive us.”
“When you have unloaded the donkey, I will take him to the stable,” said Teos. “I am sure the cow will not mind sharing her hay and water. Perhaps you could see to our guests, Ramala.”
Kiya followed her mother into the kitchen and helped her prepare beer and honey cakes while she heard how the temple guards had come and told her parents that she had been chosen to dance at the temple at Helwan.
“We knew it was a lie, but we pretended to believe it to allay any suspicion that we were involved in your escape.”
Their conversation was interrupted by Huy, Laylos and Dennu carrying bags and packages, which they piled up beside the loom.
Huy, straightened his back with a groan. ”That poor donkey, I now know how he felt.”
“What nonsense,” said Laylos. “Donkeys exist to carry loads.”
While they ate cakes and drank beer, Laylos told Ramala how Kiya had been captured by fishermen and taken to the Nome Lord to be sacrificed. “Fortunately she was saved by Dennu, who was punished severely for his good deed.”
Ramala bowed deeply to the young man. “I must thank you for rescuing my daughter,” she said.
“I saved him as well,” protested Kiya.
“And don’t forget the noble part I played in all of this,” said Huy.
Dennu ignored their interjections and smiled heroically. “It was both my duty and my pleasure, madam.”
Her mother was impressed but before Kiya could say anything to deflate Dennu’s ego, Teos entered with a bundle of str
aw in his arms. “I regret we have no more mattresses,” he said. “We will have to make your beds from this straw.”
They all helped carry straw and Laylos’s sheets up to the roof and laid them out to form three extra beds. It was a tight fit, but there was room for one beside the family’s mattresses and one at each end. It was agreed that Teos, Kiya and Ramala would keep their usual beds, while the others slept on straw.
“I do hope you will all be comfortable,” Ramala fretted.
“We are so tired we could sleep anywhere,” said Laylos as she got into bed. “Do not worry, dear sister, this will do very well.”
Dennu chose one of the end beds. When they lay down, his head was close to Kiya’s. “I’ve never slept on a roof before,” he said.
Nor on a straw bed, nor in such cramped conditions reflected Kiya. He had sneered at her for being of humble birth. Well, now he knew it to be true. Dennu was wanting to continue the conversation, but she felt humiliated and turned her head away, feigning sleep.
Kiya and the God of Chaos Page 21
