Kiya and the God of Chaos
Chapter One Hundred and One: Itet
As Kiya walked through the garden towards her husband’s house she saw that it had been enlarged during the months she had been away. What was once a simple building now had a side extension that transformed it into a mansion.
She climbed the steps to the terrace. The pillared veranda was still there and beyond it the main room with large windows. She could see that there was nobody in the room and she wondered if Dennu might be in the bedroom. She crossed the main room and nervously opened the bedroom door. The room was deserted. For a moment her gaze lingered on the bed then she turned away and returned to the main room. There was a new door in the side wall. It must lead to the extension, she thought, and with curiosity mounting she crossed over to the door and opened it.
She had not expected the sight that greeted her. It was a small enclosed courtyard with climbing vines and shaded seats. Around the courtyard were several doors. She opened the first door. It led to a large bedroom with a sunken bath. A seating ledge ran along one wall and upon it, resting on cushions of fine tapestry, was a young woman.
“Who are you?” said Kiya.
“I am Itet, wife of Lord Dennu,” said the woman. She rose to her feet and put down the embroidery on which she had been working. “You must be Kiya. I have heard so much about you.”
Kiya gaped at her. “You are the wife of Dennu?” she said. Her head was in a whirl.
Itet smiled. “You were not expecting another wife so soon?”
“I was not expecting another wife at all!” said Kiya.
“A man in Lord Dennu’s position is expected to have more than one wife,” said Itet. “You and I will spend a lifetime together and must become friends. Come, sit down. You are pale. I will summon a servant for refreshments.”
Itet clapped her hands. A girl entered the room, wearing nothing but a kilt and golden neck collar. She bowed low.
“Why was nobody here to greet Lady Kiya and her baby? We need wine and food.”
The servant mumbled an apology and hurried away.
“Where is the baby?” said Itet. “Did you manage to find your room? We have a cot prepared in there and many toys and clothes.”
“I left the baby at home with a wet nurse,” said Kiya.
“No!” Itet looked at her in dismay. “Why did you do such a thing? We were so looking forward to having him in the harem.”
“I had no choice.” Kiya felt tears well into her eyes.
“Poor dear.” Itet was instantly sympathetic. “Please do not cry, Kiya. Perhaps, when you have settled down here you can send for him. What is his name?”
“Meri,” said Kiya.
“What a lovely name. I hope that you and I will have more children to keep him company.”
Kiya smiled at Itet. She was making every effort to cheer her up and she warmed to Dennu’s new wife. “How long have you been married to Dennu?” she asked.
“A month,” said Itet. “My brother gave me to him in gratitude for the good work he has done in Crete.”
“Who is your brother?” asked Kiya.
“Ikhnaton, the King. He has many brothers and sisters. I feel honoured to be chosen to be the wife of Lord Dennu.”
Kiya looked at Itet in astonishment. She was the sister of the King? Dennu must have been delighted with the match. She cast a quick look at Itet’s legs and was relieved to see that she had not inherited the hippopotamus-like legs of her brother. Indeed, Itet was an attractive girl. Now that Kiya knew she was King Ikhnaton’s sister she recognised the long nose and well-chiselled lips that were a family resemblance.
“What good work did Dennu achieve in Crete to be awarded such a prize?” asked Kiya.
Itet smiled, recognising the complement. “He organised an agreement whereby Crete imports ivory from Nubia along the Nile. Egypt will be paid handsomely to allow the trade route.”
The slave girl entered carrying a tray. She extended the folding legs of the tray so it formed table which she placed before them. Kiya looked at the bowl of fruits and the plate of fancy breads and realised that she was hungry. It had been a long and stressful time since she had eaten on the pleasure boat from Thebes.
Another girl entered with a flagon of wine and she filled the two goblets that were on the tray.
Kiya offered the plate of bread to Itet but she declined so Kiya helped herself.
“You will feel better after refreshment,” said Itet. “The servants will fill your bath so you can wash away the dust of the journey. Dennu has chosen some fine clothes for you, so you can discard your old shift.”
Kiya drank from the goblet of wine and tried not to feel insulted. “I like my old shift. It must not be discarded. Even if I don’t wear it I want it kept safely.”
“Of course,” Itet agreed politely.
Kiya felt a stirring of annoyance at being patronised and hurriedly changed the subject. “Tell me about life in the harem,” she said.
“It is a happy life,” said Itet, “very luxurious and peaceful. We spend the days walking in the palace gardens or sitting in our courtyard or in the reception room of the harem.”
“What do we do?” asked Kiya. “What keeps us occupied?”
“We sew tapestries and embroider and make garlands for feasts.”
“That sounds a bit boring,” said Kiya.
“I enjoy it,” said Itet, “and soon there will be children to play with and look after.”
Kiya finished her wine. “Are we allowed out? Can we go into the city?”
Itet looked shocked. “No, indeed.”
“How do we shop?”
“Lord Dennu will provide us with all we need.” She rose to her feet. “Come, Kiya. Let me show you to your room. You will see all the pretty things our husband has bought you and you will be glad.”
Itet led the way out to the courtyard and to one of the doors. “This is your room, Kiya.”
“What about the other doors?” said Kiya.
“One is to the reception room, where we all meet. The others are for wives that are not here yet.”
“Oh!”
Itet sensed Kiya’s dismay and said, “A man in Lord Dennu’s position must be prepared for several wives. It does not mean that he loves any of us less.”
Yes it does, thought Kiya but she said nothing and allowed Itet to show her the room that she felt would be more like a prison than a home.