Chapter Sixty Three: An Unpleasant Journey
As the Cretan ship carried Kiya away from Egypt, she bent low and peered under the awning, hoping to catch a last glimpse of her homeland. Her view was blocked by a leather cabin, which stood upon the poop deck. On either side men pulled on huge oars to keep the boat on course. All she could see beyond them was the sky.
Kiya sighed and glanced sideways at Massui, who was sitting next to her. There was something about his profile that reminded her of Dennu. He looked so pensive that her heart warmed to him.
“How are you feeling, Massui?” she asked.
He gave a dry laugh. “I thought my life could get no worse, then you came along and now I am heading for slavery.”
“Please believe me, Massui. This is none of my doing.”
He turned to her. “Trouble follows you like flies follow a dung cart – witch.”
She turned away from the hatred in his eyes and saw two sailors approaching, crouched low under the awning.
“Water?” asked one.
“Yes, please.” It had been a long time since she had drunk and she eagerly swallowed the water he offered from a ladle.
The man dipped the ladle in the bucket held by his companion and offered it to Massui.
“Water?”
“Are you trying to poison me? I drink nothing but beer.”
The man shrugged. “By the end of the voyage you will be glad of water.”
He passed on to Laylos, who was sitting on the other side of Massui.
“I hope this isn’t Nile water,” she said.
The man shook his head. “No, it is safe enough,” he said. “Hurry up woman, I have the whole boat to serve.”
Laylos drank from the ladle. “I fancy a bit of lunch,” she said.
The man snorted his derision and passed on to Huy.
Kiya turned to Massui, eager to lighten the mood between them. “Do you want me to tell you about Dennu?” she asked. “He is doing very well in Akhetaten. He has become a priest of the Aten.”
“Then he has become my enemy,” snarled Massui. “It is because of this new religion that the temples have been closed and the garrisons no longer funded.” He made a growling noise in his throat, like an animal. “It is because of the Aten that Gesem has become a wilderness and its people fled or enslaved.” Massui glared at her and then turned away.
Kiya began to feel queasy and wished she had not drunk the water. What if it was contaminated? But, no. The Cretans would hardly damage a cargo of valuable slaves. The thought of being sold as a slave depressed her. Would she be parted from Huy and Laylos? If so she might never see them again. She realised that this boat trip might also be her last opportunity speak to Massui and turned to him with a nervous cough.
He made no response, so she screwed up her courage and said, “I’m sorry about what happened to your nome, Massui. But if I find the ka of Osiris I can stop this new religion and reopen the temples. You must try to help me if Gesem is to be saved.”
He did not answer and remained steadfastly staring away from her. They were out in the open sea now and waves were rocking the boat violently from side to side. The nausea that had been building in Kiya ever since the start of the journey became a feeling of sickness that overwhelmed her. Her stomach regurgitated its contents over the floor of the boat.
“Yuk!” said Massui, struggling to keep his feet from her vomit. “Did I say things could not get worse? I was wrong. With you there is always a new low point.”
“I’m sorry,” said Kiya. She closed her eyes and felt as if she was close to death.
The long afternoon passed. The men with a pail of water and a ladle came round at intervals and allowed them to drink. They were not offered food but, even on an empty stomach, Kiya was sick twice more. Each time she vomited Massui groaned in disgust but remained silent.
“How are you feeling, Kiya?” asked Laylos, who was shackled on the other side of Massui.
“I think I am dying,” said Kiya.
“I wish!” muttered Massui.
“It is just sea sickness, my darling,” said Laylos. “You will soon get used to the movement of the boat.”
She was right. By nightfall, Kiya felt better and managed to doze off. Her head fell against Massui’s shoulder and she felt him wriggle and shrug in an attempt to move her. But she was so tired that she fell asleep resting upon his unwelcoming pillow.
Kiya was awakened by a loud bang. Shipwrecked! She sat upright her heart pounding. The boat was still. Pale morning light seeped in under the awning and she could hear the sounds of a harbour. The leather cabin was empty and the huge wooden steering oars stood unattended. They must have arrived at Crete.
She looked sideways at Massui, who sat with his head bowed. Beyond him Laylos and Huy were talking together in low voices. Kiya was wondering what was going to happen, when a man with a knife ducked under the awning and approached her. She tensed, half expecting to be attacked, but he merely sawed apart the ropes that bound her. More men had come aboard and were releasing the other prisoners.
“Come on! Get up! Get off the ship, we have not got all day,” said the man and he started to work on Massui. Kiya could hardly stand, she was cramped after being in a confined space for so long. Under her feet, the deck was slippery with sick and urine and she was frightened of falling.
“What a disgusting smell. You Egyptians are like animals,” said a man who had cut through Laylos’s bonds.
“We have been kept like animals, more like,” said Laylos. She got to her feet, stepped around Massui, and hugged Kiya. “How are you, my dear?”
“I am starting to feel better now the journey has ended,” Kiya said.
They emerged from beneath the awning and Kiya saw the port at which they had arrived. It was situated in a steep-sided bay. Houses climbed the surrounding hills, looking down upon the wide expanse of the harbour. Many ships were tied to the quays. Some had the high hooked prow of Cretan crafts, others were of different designs. All around were the shops of traders, buying and selling the goods that were brought to the harbour.
The noise of the people, the cry of seagulls and the shouted orders of their guards, created a cacophony of sound which was bewildering after the quietness of the voyage. Kiya blinked in the sunlight and made her unsteady way to the ladder which was hanging from the side of the ship. She climbed down to the quay and helped Laylos, who came down after her.
Huy descended next. “We must stick together,” he said.
“A good plan,” said Laylos. “Let us hope our captors respect it!”
“I cannot bear us to be parted,” said Kiya.
“Come on! Hurry up! Stand over here!” The soldiers were armed with spears, which they waved menacingly as if expecting trouble from the demoralised prisoners. Kiya and the others followed orders and grouped on the quayside. She noticed that Massui positioned himself as far away from her as possible.
“I never want to go to sea again,” Huy said. “Even if it means spending the rest of my life on this island.”
“What a collection you have brought me!” The man who must be the slave master was walking around the group with a disgusted expression on his face.
He spoke Egyptian to the captain of the ship, who replied fluently. “Don’t blame me, I just transport what the soldiers catch. I should charge you extra for having to clean up my ship, it is in a terrible state.”
“You charge plenty enough as it is, Yuny. I’m not going to get much for this lot in the slave market.”
“Nonsense.” He pointed to Kiya. “She should wash up well. You might be able to sell her to the palace for tomorrow’s sacrifice. I have heard that they always need virgins.”
“I’m not a virgin!” lied Kiya.
The slave trader laughed. “Neither are most of them, if the truth be told.”
“And that one will make a good cook from the looks of her,” said the Captain, pointing at Laylos.
“I hate cooking,” said Laylos
.
“I can vouch for that,” said Huy.
“In that case she will have to go to the harbour brothel,” said the slave master.
“Actually I don’t hate cooking that much,” said Laylos. “In fact I could grow to enjoy it.”
“Enough!” said the slave master. He pointed at Kiya. “Remove this girl. I want her to be cleaned and taken to the palace. The rest of them can go to the warehouse.”
“No!” cried Laylos. Huy put his arm around her shoulders to restrain her as she held out her hands to Kiya.
“I will be fine!” said Kiya, trying to hide her despair as she felt her arms seized.
“Come with us girl,”
“Where are you taking me?” Kiya looked from side to side at the two soldiers who were holding her.
“To the bath house, of course, to get rid of that filth.”
“Let her go!” Laylos protested. She struggled to reach Kiya and one of the soldiers lifted his spear as if to stab her. With a swift movement Huy dragged Laylos out of danger and forced her to follow the rest of the group as they were led away.
Through a blur of tears, Kiya watched them go until she was pulled in the other direction.
Kiya and the God of Chaos Page 63
