Chapter Twenty Seven: An Irresistible Offer
Kiya made herself lunch of stale bread crumbled into milk but her appetite was poor and she pushed it aside unfinished. Her dejection at seeing Dennu depart with Eopei had turned to a more pressing concern – that of her own safety. How long would it be before soldiers came to arrest her? She should flee now, but she must wait for her parents to come home and tell them what had happened.
The little farmhouse seemed more like a prison than ever. She went up to the roof to watch people passing by on the road, half expecting to see an approaching phalanx of guards. Familiar figures turned down from the upper road – her parents and Enno were returning home at last. She hurried out to confront them.
“Something terrible has happened,” she cried. “Eopei has visited. She discovered that I have returned from Gesem and has told Qelhatat.”
Teos blinked, struggling to take in the news. “How did Eopei find out?”
“I don’t know,” lied Kiya. “Dennu came too - to tell you he has taken lodgings with Aapep, the scribe.”
Ramala dismounted from the donkey. “Perhaps Dennu told her,” she suggested.
“He would never do such a thing!” protested Teos.
“Quick!” Ramala seized Kiya’s arm and dragged her into the house. “We must keep you hidden until we work out what to do. Perhaps you could disguise yourself and live with Laylos and Huy.” She closed the door hurriedly behind them. “If we shave off your hair and dress you in a baggy tunic, you could pretend to be a boy.”
“What? And intrude upon the start of their marriage? Huy would never agree to it and I refuse to cut off my hair.”
“Oh, Kiya, you are such a strong-willed girl,” sighed Ramala. “If only you had agreed to go to Helwan with Dennu.”
Kiya was trying to think of an alternative suggestion when she was startled by a loud knocking.
“Quick, Kiya! Conceal yourself,” hissed Ramala.
Kiya ran into the yard and searched for a hiding place. Sacks were piled in a corner and she crouched behind them, pulling the top ones over her body. Flour dust rose into the air and she tried not to cough. From the house came the sound of conversation. She strained her ears, trying to listen. Her mother was talking to a woman. Was their visitor a neighbour? Hernieth, perhaps. Kiya started to relax and was about to emerge from her hiding place when her mother called out.
"Kiya! The High Priestess wants a word with you."
Qelhatat was here? Kiya felt herself shaking as she rose to her feet. Surely her mother would not have summoned her if she was to be arrested. She brushed the flour from her clothes and ran her fingers through her hair. She must not let the High Priestess see her in such a state. She scooped water from the trough and dashed it over her face and arms. Then, with trepidation, she entered the house and saw Qelhatat standing in her robes of office. The magnificent figure dominated the tiny room. Her elaborate headdress almost touched the ceiling and her cloak shimmered with gold, lightening the gloom. Kiya glanced at her mother and was relieved to see that she was smiling.
“Good morning, Kiya." Qelhatat’s aloof expression did not soften. "I have come to see you on official business."
Kiya bowed and tried to speak formally, though her mouth was dry and her voice quavered. "I am honoured, Highness."
Through the open door Kiya noticed two empty litters resting on the ground. Their porters stood beside them, dressed in the temple uniform of white tunics and gold neck pieces. Qelhatat had not come alone but Kiya could see neither guards nor any sign of who might have accompanied her. Was it Urshu? Kiya’s anxiety increased.
"The High Priestess has promised that you will not be punished for fleeing the temple," said Ramala.
Relief flooded through Kiya. She embraced her mother and went down on one knee before Qelhatat. "I am grateful, your Highness. We have lived in fear of retribution."
She felt Qelhatat’s hand rest briefly on her head as though giving a blessing. “Rise child. You and your family are fortunate not to have been arrested. The sacrifices are a secret, known only to the highest. I must swear you all to silence in this matter or there will be grave consequences.”
“Of course, Highness, not a word to anyone,” Ramala assured her.
Qelhatat turned to her. “I have not forgotten our old friendship, Ramala. I have done my best to hide your and Teos’s involvement in this matter. I hope you didn’t reveal your disbelief to the official who told you the reason for Kiya’s disappearance.”
“We knew he lied but we thought he had come to arrest us so we greeted the information with relief.”
Qelhatat nodded. “That is good.”
“Would you like to sit down and have some beer, Highness?” Ramala indicated the rug-covered platform, which Qelhatat regarded without enthusiasm.
“I think not,” said the High Priestess. “I have yet to state the reason for my visit.” She turned to Kiya. “My business is with you, Kiya.” Kiya gave a start. What could such an important personage want with her? Qelhatat smiled. “You have the great honour of being chosen to be the next High Priestess, my dear.”
Kiya stared at her in astonishment. The next High Priestess? But she was a mere dancing girl, a fugitive from the temple. How could it be? Her knees weakened and she sat on the ledge.
Ramala’s reaction was more robust. She bowed low and kissed Qelhatat’s hand. “This is a great honour, Highness. But why have you chosen my daughter for such high office?”
“She has been selected by one much greater than me, greater than anyone at the temple.” Qelhatat looked at Kiya meaningfully and Kiya felt the blood rush to her cheeks. She meant Anubis. How wonderful. Her heart soared. Anubis had chosen her to serve him for the rest of her life. It would be like a marriage.
Ramala looked worried. “Will Kiya be safe at the temple, Highness?"
Qelhatat nodded. “She will be as safe as I have been, and she will live a life of luxury beyond her dreams with many slaves to do her bidding.”
“Yes, I accept!” said Kiya. “Please Mama, be happy for me. This is the most fantastic thing that has ever happened.”
“Are you sure this is what you want, Kiya?” Ramala’s frown deepened. “A High Priestess does not marry or have children. It is a life without love.”
“I am sure,” said Kiya and knew that, for her, love’s dream had come true.
“I lack the strength to fight against your decision,” sighed Ramala. She looked anxiously at Qelhatat. “I beg of you to protect her, Highness. She is a wonderful girl and very precious to me.”
“I will be retiring, but Urshu will ensure that all is well,” said Qelhatat. She embraced Ramala and then Kiya. Her robes felt stiff and prickly.
“Who has accompanied you here?” asked Kiya, embolden to put the question that had been troubling her.
“I have come alone,” said Qelhatat. “The extra litter is for you, Kiya. It is time to say goodbye to your mother.”
Kiya was flustered. “Must I come with you now? I am not ready, nothing is packed.”
“Everything you need is at the temple,” said Qelhatat.
Kiya stared around the small, mud-brick room, at the loom, the clothes chest, the kitchen with its jars and beer jug. Her life had been spent here, this was her refuge, her cocoon. She needed time to disengage herself and come to terms with leaving. “I can’t go yet,” she cried, but Qelhatat was already leading the way out of the house and ignored her.
Kiya and the God of Chaos Page 27
