Chapter Forty Nine: The Invitation

  When Kiya woke she was lying in coolness and shade, with her head on her aunt’s lap. Laylos was gently stroking her hair.

  “Where am I?” Kiya asked.

  “You are safely home, my dear. You fainted.”

  The confusion in Kiya’s mind cleared and she remembered what had happened at the temple. “It was horrible.” She shuddered at the thought of the bloody scene. “Huy slit those men’s throats as if they were animals being slaughtered.”

  “He is very good at it,” agreed Laylos. “The executions were over before the prisoners knew what was happening. Besides, would you rather they were set free? One of them had already tried to murder you, and the others threatened to kill Sabu. Neither of you would have been safe with them lurking around.”

  “I know he did the right thing, but I wish I had not seen it happen.”

  The door opened and Sabu came in with three beakers of beer on a tray. “I am pleased to see you have recovered, Mistress.”

  “Thank you, Sabu. I am ashamed to show such weakness.”She took a sip of her drink and looked around. “Where is Huy?” she asked Laylos.

  “He is at the temple, supervising the cleaning. There must be no trace of blood in the sand when the midday ceremony starts. Dennu helped carry you here but he had to go as he is busy.”

  “Typical,” said Kiya.

  “Don’t be hard on the man, he was very worried about you. He must have been watching you when the executions took place. The rest of us had not even realised you were ill, when he rushed across to catch you as you fell. He made sure you got home safely and would not leave until he was confident that you were recovering.”

  “Oh, that was nice of him,” said Kiya and felt gratified by Dennu’s concern. She looked down and saw the gold armlet was safely back on her arm. “I expect he felt guilty that he disbelieved me about the armlet.”

  “I expect he did, my dear,” said Laylos. “He is going to take you out for a meal so you will soon find out.”

  “Take me for a meal?” Kiya scrambled to her feet. “Oh no! What am I going to wear? I look terrible.”

  “We have three hours to get you ready,” said Laylos. She handed Sabu the bucket, which had managed to survive its recent adventure. “Please would you fetch us some water, Sabu. It should be safe to go down to the river now.”

  “Yes, Madam.” Sabu took the bucket and departed.

  “You certainly can’t wear that shift,” said Laylos. “It needs to be washed and mended. While we wait for Sabu you can take it off and I will show you how to darn.”

  So Kiya took off her shift, and turned so Laylos could examine her back. “Can you see anything where the spear hit?” she asked.

  “Oh, my dear, you are going to have such a bruise!”

  “Ouch!” yelped Kiya as her aunt prodded her gently with her fingers.

  “No bones broken, thank goodness,” said Laylos.

  Kiya unpacked a spare shift from her bag and put it on, then she sat beside her aunt on the bench and watched her sew the split so cunningly that the stitching hardly showed.

  She was admiring her aunt’s handiwork, when there was a knock on the door and Sabu entered with the bucket of water.

  “Well done, Sabu,” said Laylos. “Pour some of it into this basin, please.”

  Sabu obeyed and Kiya felt sorry for him. Since coming to live with Laylos he had to obey two mistresses instead of one. She watched her aunt plunge the repaired shift into the basin and scrub it carefully, then Laylos gave it to Sabu to lay out on the roof to dry.

  “Stay and guard it, Sabu,” she said, then turned to Kiya with a grin. “We don’t want thieving neighbours to steal more than they bargained for.”

  Kiya started to prepare herself for her lunch date. By the time Dennu came to collect her, she was clean and scented. Her face was made up with rouge and kohl and her hair was gleaming.

  “You look beautiful,” said Dennu. She saw his pupils widen and knew that he spoke the truth.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “Make sure she is home before nightfall,” commanded Laylos.

  “Of course,” said Dennu.

  Outside, Dennu offered Kiya his arm. She took it and was aware of many eyes upon them. They made an unusual couple in that rough neighbourhood.

  “Where are we going?” she asked, hoping it wasn’t to the communal kitchen.

  “I am taking you back to my place,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind. Soon there will be shops and restaurants in Akhetaten, but until then we must do the best we can. I have arranged for the cook to provide a special meal for us.”

  As they walked, Dennu apologised. “I am embarrassed to admit it,” he said. “But I thought you had paid for the services of a bodyguard by selling the armlet.”

  “How could you think such a thing?” said Kiya, in mock surprise.

  “I must confess that I am still puzzled how you could afford a guard. But I am delighted you have got one. You seem to have made enemies already and you have only been in Akhetaten a couple of days. What are you up to, Kiya? Why are you here?”

  Kiya felt depressed. “I fear that the purpose of this meal is to interrogate me.”

  “I am sorry,” said Dennu. “No more questions, I promise. Look, those men are building a market street, soon we will have traders and craftsmen. You will enjoy Akhetaten, Kiya. It will be a wonderful city, to rival Thebes and Helwan in its splendour. And we are here at the beginning, able to influence its construction.” She looked up at him and saw that his eyes were shining with enthusiasm.

  “You have found your rightful place,” she said.

  He nodded. “Stay here in Akhetaten, Kiya. Is this not adventure enough for you?”

  “I cannot stay,” she said. “Not yet. I wish I could.”

  “No, of course not,” he looked hurt. “Forget I asked.” With an effort he tried to restore the happy mood. “Look, the stone carvers are already at work on the frieze that will run around the palace wall.”

  Kiya looked at the men working on slabs of limestone with hammers and chisels. “What is the design?” she said. “It cannot be the victories of the King, for I heard that Ikhnaton is against war.”

  “The frieze is about love not war,” said Dennu. “The great love that Ikhnaton and Nefertiti have for each other and the even greater love they have for the Aten.”

  Well, thought Kiya, at least half of that frieze will be a lie. “What about the King’s other wives,” she said. “Do they not get recognised?”

  “Of course not,” said Dennu. “Ikhnaton has to have a harem. Other rulers send him wives to cement treaties and gain influence at court - but he services them out of duty. Nefertiti is his soul mate and shares the honour of leading the worship of the Aten.”

  “That’s nice,” said Kiya.

  Dennu sighed and turned his head to give Kiya a meaningful look. “I envy the King being able to share his life with the woman he loves.”

  “Sometimes love is blind,” said Kiya.

  “You are probably right.”

  Kiya didn’t reply but clung more tightly to Dennu’s arm as they made their way over the uneven ground to the tent.

 
Philippa Bower's Novels