Kiya and the God of Chaos

  Chapter One Hundred and Nine: Divorce

  The next morning, Kiya woke early. Today was her last day in the harem. She jumped out of bed, went to the door and clapped her hands.

  A sleepy servant brought a bowl of hot water and put it on the table. “Do you wish breakfast, my Lady?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Kiya washed and dressed in her old shift, then checked her money belt before she put it on. It contained many coin rings of tin, bronze and silver. There were also several gold nuggets left over from her previous mission. She would be able to pay her way.

  The servant brought breakfast and, as Kiya ate, she looked around at the luxurious room with its comfortable bed and sunken bath. She admired her beautiful dresses and wigs and thought that never again would she live in such splendour. With a sigh she picked up the jar of Nile water and went out into the courtyard. She had a quick look in the reception room but there was no sign of Itet. She must be asleep, thought Kiya – or with Dennu.

  As she opened the connecting door to Dennu’s house she wondered if he would be there, working at his table. The room was empty. Through the large windows she saw that the sun had already risen above the wall of the palace. Spurred by the anxiety of missing Ana’s chariots, Kiya hurried to the bedroom door and knocked.

  “Who is there?” Dennu’s drowsy voice answered.

  “It is I, Kiya.”

  There was a pause and then the door opened and Dennu emerged, doing up the belt of his robe. Kiya tried to look behind him to see if Itet was in his bed but he shut the door too quickly.

  “What do you want, Kiya? It is early.”

  “I want a divorce,” said Kiya and thrust the jar at him.

  “Could this not wait?” he said.

  “No, I am leaving soon. Ana has offered to take me to Nubia.”

  “Are you still determined upon this ridiculous mission of yours? You have no idea of the dangers you will face. What if you are killed?”

  “Will you be sorry?”

  “Of course. We will all be sorry.”

  Kiya frowned, “Let’s get this over with.”

  They went out onto the terrace and both held the jar.

  “Are you certain this is what you want?” asked Dennu.

  “Yes!”

  Dennu sighed, gripped the jar more tightly and said, “With the breaking of this jar.”

  “Our marriage vows have ended,” said Kiya.

  Together they smashed the jar down on the stone surface of the terrace and it broke into several pieces. A pool of water lay glinting in the sun.

  “I hope we can still be friends,” said Dennu. “You are welcome to keep the dresses and jewellery I bought for you.”

  “No thank you,” said Kiya, “though I appreciate your generosity in making such an offer. All I want is the return of the spear I leant you when you visited Crete.”

  “Of course.” He went into the house and returned with the spear. “This is a remarkable weapon. I learnt in Crete that the star metal from which the tip is formed can be obtained from beneath the earth.”

  “Like gold from a mine?”

  “Yes, the Hittites trade such weapons. I was given a sword by the Queen of Crete.”

  “Can I borrow it?”

  Dennu laughed unpleasantly. “And have it lost in the jungles of Nubia? No you may not!”

  “I don’t think you ever loved me,” she said and turned away from him. Children had emerged from the King’s harem and were playing on the lawn. Their happy laughter jarred with the pain she was feeling.

  “Then you are a fool,” he said. “The only thing that has changed is that I have become a man while you are unable to accept the responsibilities of adulthood.”

  A woman and a child were walking towards them beneath the trees. The child was about six years old and glowed with a golden light.

  “Meri?” Kiya gasped and clung to the balcony of the terrace for support as she watched them come closer. Could this be the baby she had entrusted to Hathor? She was aware of Dennu coming to stand beside her and together they observed an extraordinary scene.

  The children had noticed the golden boy and stopped their play to stare. One hesitantly came towards him and offered him a sweet. Meri smiled, took the sweet and then he gave the child back two more. Other children gathered around, amazed by this miracle. To each child Meri gave the same sweet, multiplied again and again.

  Kiya heard Dennu gasp as he watched the child reproduce the sweet, but when she looked round to speak to him he had gone.

  Puzzled, she turned again to the scene before her. She could see that the woman with Meri was Hathor and she ran down the steps to greet her. Meri was in the centre of a crowd of children. They were getting too close, threatening to overwhelm him, and Hathor shooed them away.

  “Is this my child?” Kiya said.

  “This is Meri,” said Hathor proudly. “Has he not grown?”

  “He looks wonderful,” said Kiya. “Thank you for all you have done. Will it be safe for me to keep him now?”

  “He is still very young,” said Hathor doubtfully.

  Meri looked at Kiya with his brilliant blue eyes and she felt his love so strongly that it made her want to weep.

  “I have missed you so much, my darling.” She knelt and held out her arms to him. Meri, too, held out his arms but he did not come to her for a cuddle as she had hoped.

  “It is better if he is not touched,” said Hathor.

  “Not even by his mother?” said Kiya. “How can I show him affection?”

  “There is no need,” said Hathor. “Meri knows nothing but love.”

  “You mean that everybody loves him?”

  “Indeed they do, but that is not what I mean. Meri feels neither grief not jealousy nor any other human emotion. He is the love of the unknowable god made manifest in a child.”

  Kiya bowed her head. “Am I not special to him?”

  “You are very special, Kiya. But so is everybody. The child is a blessing to the world.”

  There was the sound of running feet and Kiya looked up to see soldiers approaching.

  “By orders of Lord Dennu we have come to take the child to the temple,” said the lead soldier and he drew his sword.

  Kiya heard Hathor growl and knew that she was about to become her deadly alter-ego, Sekhmet. She braced herself for the bloodletting. But Meri turned to Hathor and held up his hand to prevent the transformation. Kiya saw the goddess step back as the power of the child’s love overwhelmed her. The glaring eyes and snarling mouth of the lion she was about to become, morphed back into a woman’s face and she bowed her head in submission.

  “I beg of you. Do not hurt him!” she said to the soldiers.

  The lead soldier looked terrified by the shape-shifting he had witnessed. “He will be kept safely,” he said, his voice barely more than a croak. Then he and his men hurried away with Meri in their midst.