Chapter Seventy Two: In the Pit
To Kiya’s relief, the horse had enough sense to leave the beach by the road, rather than drag the chariot through the palms and scrub that bordered the shoreline. Every bump and pothole in the uneven highway jolted her. She wanted to stand in the front beside Huy, where the ride would be smoother, but his arms were flailing like shaduf poles as he tried to control the horse.
“Driving a chariot is easier than I thought,” he said with breath-taking bravado.
“Apart from stopping and starting,” said Laylos.
“And steering,” gasped Kiya as they hit a particularly deep pothole.
“Women!” said Huy with an exaggerated sigh.
They came to a crossroads and the horse cantered straight over. “I hope it knows where we are going,” said Laylos. “I don’t recognise this area at all.”
“Nor do I,” said Huy.” But as long as the sun is ahead of us we are travelling in the right direction.”
After a while there was a fork in the road. “We will take the right-hand road,” said Huy and pulled on the reins. The horse ignored him and went left.
“Hah!” said Laylos disparagingly. The path veered further left and ahead of them was a narrow bridge. “Stop!” yelled Laylos. “You’ll never get the chariot across that!”
Kiya could see Huy’s arm muscles bulge as he hauled upon the reins but the horse took no notice and cantered onto the bridge without slowing. Its hooves thundered hollowly on the rotting boards and the hub of the wheels ground against the wooden posts on either side.
Kiya held her breath, expecting the bridge to collapse under their weight but within a few heartbeats they were safely on the other side.
“That was a near thing,” Kiya said to her aunt but Laylos looked worried.
“We shouldn’t be here,” she said. “We are too far east.” Ahead of them was another branch of the Nile, this time there was no bridge, just a shallow ford. “Stop the chariot, Huy,” yelled Laylos.
Huy tried but to no avail. The horse splashed through the ford, raising waves of water on either side.
“At least we frightened off any crocodiles,” Huy joked.
“Crocodiles?” Laylos sounded angry. “They are the least of our worries. Don’t you know where we are, Huy?”
Ahead of them and to the left Kiya could see a huge expanse of reeds and realised with a chill of dismay that they were approaching the reed sea. A low mist hung over the swamp, its tendrils stretching over the road as if to grasp at those who passed.
“We must turn the chariot around!” cried Laylos.
Huy pulled on the reins and the horse gave a terrified whinny. Kiya looked at the animal. Its ears were laid back and its neck stretched forwards.
“I think the bloody animal can sense something,” said Huy, heaving on the reins again. “There is no stopping him.” As if in response, the horse reared up and bolted.
Kiya clung to the rocking chariot, fearing that they were going to capsize. For long moments they pitched and tossed behind the panicked animal and then the ground vanished from beneath them and they plunged downwards.
The jarring shock of their fall left Kiya stunned. She gradually recovered her senses and realised that she was lying in a pit under the flickering shadow of a rotating chariot wheel. She listened to Huy call Laylos’s name. Her aunt answered and she knew they were both still alive. There was no sound or movement from the horse and Kiya saw that its head lay against the wall of the pit at an unnatural angle. Its glazed eyes stared unseeingly and a trickle of blood ran from its mouth – its neck had been broken by the fall. The unfortunate animal had served them better in death than in life, thought Kiya, for its body had been a cushion upon which they had landed.
“Are you hurt, Kiya?” called her aunt.
“I am fine.” She felt her limbs - nothing was broken. “What about you?”
“Just bruised.”
“And I have got a nasty cut on my forehead, in case anyone is interested,” said Huy.
A jabbering sound came from above. Kiya looked up and saw the hideous face of a swamp man looking down at them. His grin revealed sharpened teeth and his lips were red against the grey mud that coated his face. Kiya sniffed the air but could smell only the foetid stink of swamp mud and sweat. The creature was not a true monster, just a monstrous human.
Huy brandished his sword. The pit was too deep for him to reach the creature but the swamp man withdrew.
“I fear he has gone to fetch his friends,” said Huy. “We could beat the savages easily in a fair fight but while we are in the pit all they have to do is throw spears down at us.”
“Then let us get out,” said Laylos.
“The only way is to use the chariot as a ladder,” said Huy. “We must unharness the horse so we can move it.”
Kiya hurried to help. Being the smallest, she had to reach beneath the horse’s cooling body and try to release the harness. It was a fiddly business as space was cramped and she was unfamiliar with the buckles and straps.
“Be quick. Please be quick,” urged Laylos. “Those brutes will be back at any moment.”
At last the chariot was free and Kiya helped the others prop it against the wall. Huy scrambled up and poked his head out of the pit. He hurriedly ducked down again.
“We are too late, there are hordes of them. Quick, get under the chariot.”
They managed to crawl to safety before the first spears were hurled down, bouncing harmlessly off the wooden base of their hiding place.
“How long can we survive without food or water?” said Laylos.
“We could eat the horse,” suggested Huy. “I hear that raw liver is very nutritious.”
“Don’t be disgusting,” said Laylos.
“Actually, it probably won’t come to that,” said Huy. “If they think to use fire they could burn us out.”
Kiya could see no way to escape their predicament. She took hold of her spear. If only she could leave the pit she could fight the repulsive creatures but she was trapped. One thing was certain, she would die rather than be captured.
She heard the thud of more spears hitting the chariot and then a jabbering. Would any of the swamp men be brave enough to descend into the pit? Kiya hefted her spear and hoped so. There was silence after that.
“They are probably going to starve us out,” said Laylos.
Huy poked his head out from under the chariot. A spear whistled past his ear and stuck into the ground. He hastily withdrew. “They are still there,” he said.
Kiya stared at the spear. Its shaft was a thick reed stem. Bound to the top were three sharpened bones, their tips carved into barbs. It would take a long time to kill with such a weapon, but the wounds would be terrible.
Kiya and the God of Chaos Page 72
