Kiya and the God of Chaos

by Philippa Bower

  Chapter Fifty Three: Nefertiti

  Kiya left the house the next morning accompanied by Huy and Sabu. She saw a small boy playing with a toy cart in the square and looked at him suspiciously – was he another of Urshu’s spies? He took no notice of her and she feared she was becoming paranoid but when she looked round, she saw that he was following.

  They approached the sacristy and Kiya looked for the child again. He drew back into a doorway but not before Kiya had recognised him.

  “We have been followed,” she hissed to Huy. “Urshu will know we have come here.”

  “Then you must hurry and finish your mission before he catches up with you,” said Huy.

  A bored-looking guard slouched at the entrance to the sacristy. He straightened up when he saw them coming. “What is your business?” he demanded.

  “This girl is a new maid for the Queen,” said Huy.

  “Why does she need an armed escort?” said the guard.

  “We are just making sure she gets here safely,” said Huy. “What is your name, soldier?”

  “Why?”

  “Because I intend to report you for slovenly behaviour. Temple guards come under the jurisdiction of the army and you have failed to salute a superior officer.”

  “I’m sorry, sir.” The guard saluted smartly.

  “That’s better,” said Huy. “There has been rumours of trouble. I am posting an extra man.” He indicated to Sabu to stand by the door.

  “What sort of trouble?” asked the guard.

  Huy frowned at him. “Are you asking for classified information?”

  “No, sir.” The guard looked deflated and made no protest when Sabu took up position next to him.

  Kiya entered the palace. The entrance hall was plainly plastered. Soon, no doubt, it would be carved and painted as befitted a building that was part of the temple complex. There were four doors. From the one on the right came the clatter of crockery. Kiya looked at the others. One must lead to the audience chamber and the others to the King and Queen’s private quarters. She remembered the map she had seen in Dennu’s tent and hurried to the far left door.

  The door creaked as Kiya pushed it open to reveal Nefertiti’s changing room. The Queen stood surrounded by maids, who were dressing her in ceremonial robes. She spun round at the sound of the door and glared at Kiya.

  “How dare you enter my private room!”

  “I’m your new maid, your Majesty,” said Kiya, sinking down into a curtsy.

  “What do I need a new maid for? I have got too many as it is. Useless creatures.”

  “The King wished to honour the Aten for the miracle of my escape from death,” Kiya said.

  Nefertiti’s eyes narrowed. “I remember. You are the girl in the temple. I’m not sure how you did it but you don’t fool me. Miracle indeed! My husband is too incredulous for his own good. Ow! you stupid fool!” Nefertiti was distracted by a maid who had pricked her with a wig pin. She lashed out and sent the unfortunate girl sprawling across the floor. The Queen turned her attention back to Kiya. “If you’re so anxious to work in the sacristy, you can scrub pots in the kitchen. See how you like that!”

  Kiya curtsied again and left the room. Her mind was racing. She had seen the door to the inner sanctuary where Osiris’s body lay. It looked solid and had a large lock, which resembled two Ostrich feathers, spaced two fingers-width apart with a slot between them. How was she going to get near the door and, more importantly, how was she going to find the key that fitted the lock?

  She entered the kitchen and saw Tarset chopping vegetables at the central table. A fat woman stood beside one of the fire pits turning a spit on which two ducks were roasting.

  “Hello Kiya, what are you doing here?” said Tarset.

  “I was to have been one of Nefertiti’s maids but she has sent me to the kitchen to scrub pots,” said Kiya.

  “She has taken a dislike to you,” said the fat cook. “I would be gone while the going is good.”

  “I think I had better stay,” said Kiya. “I am here on the King’s orders.”

  “More fool you,” said the cook and turned back to her spit.

  “I’ll help you with the pots, Kiya,” said Tarset. She led Kiya to a trough that was piled with dirty pans and dishes. “Water is heating on the stove and in this pot is a mixture of goat’s fat and ashes to get the pots clean.”

  With Tarset’s assistance and masses of frothy water, the pile of pans slowly reduced. Kiya was anxious at the passing of precious time but, at last, the work was done.

  “Many thanks for your help,” Kiya said to Tarset. “I had better get back to Nefertiti,”

  “Are you mad?” said the cook.

  Probably, thought Kiya. She opened the kitchen door and saw two people in the entrance hall. One was Dennu, carrying a rolled papyrus sheet. He went through to the audience chamber without looking to left or right. The other was Urshu. His sharp eyes were peering around and Kiya ducked back into the kitchen, hoping he hadn’t seen her.

  “Is anything wrong, Kiya?” asked Tarset.

  Kiya put her finger to her lips, trying to hush her. “I’m fine,” she said in a low voice. “I just want to wait until the coast is clear.”

  “Such goings on,” tutted the cook.

  A few moments later Kiya peered into the entrance hall again. It was empty and she hurried to Nefertiti’s room. She pushed open the door with trepidation and was relieved to find the room deserted. Where was the key to the inner sanctum? There was a small door at the back of the room, half hidden by a curtain. That must be the entrance to the servants’ quarters. She hoped the maids would remain there while she searched the room.

  The key was not among the ceremonial clothes hanging on stands around the room. Nor was it on the table that contained a profusion of wigs, scent bottles and make-up. Kiya gave up the search and pulled Laylos’s knife out of her belt. It was time to try to pick the lock. The blade slipped easily into the slot between the two ornamental ostrich feathers but wriggle it as she might, the lock wouldn’t open. She was taking a last look around the room when the door opened and Nefertiti stood staring at her. Kiya sank into a low curtsy.

  “What are you doing here?” demanded the Queen.

  “I have finished the pots and have come back for more instructions,” said Kiya.

  “Really? Well your instructions are that you are fired. I never want to see you again,” snarled Nefertiti.

  Kiya bowed her head submissively. “Yes, your Majesty.”

  “Before you go, you can help me get this collar off,” said the Queen. She sat at the dressing table and preened herself in the mirror while Kiya undid the fastening of the gold neckpiece. “I cannot think why I am expected to take an interest in the palace. Every time I bend over the plans, this stupid collar nearly breaks my neck.”

  “You have a very slender neck, your Majesty.” Kiya said as she removed the heavy jewellery and stared at the reflection of a triangular pendant the Queen wore beneath. With a tingle of excitement, Kiya realised that it might be the key she had been searching for. She reached down into her belt and felt the herb knife. It was sharp enough to cut the thin gold chain that held the pendant, but how could she distract the Queen?

  “Yes, I have,” agreed the Queen. “A very slender...”

  Her sentence was cut short as Kiya dislodged her wig with a clumsy movement, causing it to fall over her eyes.

  Shrieking curses, Nefertiti pushed the wig back into position and as she did so, Kiya used the knife to slice cleanly through the thin gold chain so the pendant dropped to the floor. She then curtsied low and managed to hide the fallen pendant from view as the Queen rose to her feet and showered blows and insults upon her.

  “You stupid, clumsy, oafish fool. You should be punished for such insolence. I never want to see you again!” With an angry swirl of her robes the Queen left the room.

  Kiya waited a few seconds to make sure she wouldn’t return, then she hurried to the door of the sanctum.
It was now or never.