Chapter Sixty: Qato and Beyond
The prow of the boat split the water into two curving waves as the felucca sailed downriver. Kiya knelt at the front of the boat and imagined she was flying across the sparkling blue water. She looked back to the stern, where Huy and Laylos were snuggled together, and felt a pang of guilt. Should she have allowed them to come with her on this mission? They were willing enough and she could not succeed without them, but was it fair when they had found such happiness together?
They were passed by a cargo boat, sailing up-river loaded with people.
“Thoth’s curse be upon those bloody merchants,” said the old man. “They are earning a fortune by overcharging those fleeing Helwan, even though their ships sail empty back.”
“Is nobody going to the delta?” asked Laylos.
“Only you three. Why are you travelling in the opposite direction to everyone else?”
“Because we are contrary,” said Huy. “And we like to keep our business to ourselves.”
“Fair enough,” said the old man with a shrug.
They shared their lunch of bread and cheese with him but, apart from thanking them, the old man said little and, for the rest of the journey, he was silent.
Many more loaded boats passed them travelling up-river with passengers and their baggage. Kiya waved at one but the people stared at her with gloomy eyes and nobody waved back.
When they reached Qato, it was as Kiya remembered it - diminutive houses with smooth, white-washed walls, wooden drying racks and a landing stage. But there was no smell of gutted fish, no nets drying in the sun, no people rushing from their houses when the boat docked.
“Are you sure this is where you wanted to come?” said the old man.
“Yes, thank you,” said Huy and indicated to Kiya to pay him. She handed over three copper rings and added a small bit of turquoise.
“We are grateful for your help,” she said.
“Good luck to you,” said the old man. He waited with ill-disguised impatience while Kiya and Huy helped Laylos disembark, then set off at once, his boat angled to the wind.
Kiya was looking around, wondering if the little fishing village was deserted, when a man emerged from one of the houses. He held a fish-gutting knife and looked at them with wary eyes.
“We get few visitors nowadays,” he said. “Can I help you?”
“We need a lift to Ankhis,” said Huy.
“Ankhis?” The man sounded surprised. “Nobody lives there now, it is too near the swamp people.”
“Those scum?” said Laylos. “They would not dare show their faces in Gesem.”
“Now the soldiers have gone the swamp men have grown bold,” said the man.
Kiya felt a chill of fear, but Huy was unimpressed. “If we have to walk, we must go at once,” he said.
“If I was you, I would not go at all,” said the man but Huy was already striding down the road with Laylos following. Kiya thanked the man and ran after her aunt and uncle.
As she hastened along the dusty road Kiya thought how different the countryside looked now, with weeds encroaching the untended fields. Without mankind, the valley would swiftly return to a wilderness. Her mind went back to the one and only time she had met the god who fathered her. Perhaps, after all, Seth’s dream of a primeval forest could come true. But what price was he prepared to pay? He had already killed his brother. Was he planning to kill the entire population?
Kiya was so sunk in thought that she almost walked into Huy and Laylos, who had paused to drink from the goat-skin water container.
“I never thought I would be glad to drink water,” said Laylos, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
Kiya realised how parched she had become and held out her hands for a turn with the water. It had a slight taint of goat but she was thirsty enough not to care.
“Look!” Laylos pointed down the road to the burnt-out shell of Fai-Nofre’s inn. “Let’s take a quick look inside to see if there is anything worth salvaging,” said Laylos.
“I suggest all the looting was done long ago, without your help, my dear,” said Huy.
“Looting? The very idea!” Laylos was offended. “Come, Kiya, help me search.” She hurried towards the inn.
Kiya glanced at Huy. Shadows were lengthening and she knew he was anxious to reach Ankhis before nightfall.
Huy nodded. “Very well, but be quick.”
Kiya followed her aunt into the building, stepping over piles of rubble and burnt roof timbers. The place was unrecognisable. Sunlight poured into what had once been a gloomy interior. There were gaping holes where the bedroom doors had been and a smell of charred wood filled the air. Kiya peered into the rooms but, apart from debris, they were empty. The beds, the bedding the counter the beer barrels, the goblets, everything was either destroyed or gone. Laylos had made her way to the back yard and returned shaking her head.
“Even the vats have been ruined,” she said. She sighed and stared around at the wreckage. “It seems like only yesterday we were here with Dennu.”
“Come, Aunt,” said Kiya. “We must leave, we have no time to indulge in reminiscences.” She led the way from the inn and was greeted by Huy.
“You found no food?” he said. “What a disappointment. I am getting hungry. Come, no more stops, we much reach our destination while there is still light.”
Huy led the way at a rapid pace but the sun was low by the time they reached Ankhis and the first stars were visible.
“Look there’s Janais’s house,” said Laylos. “He will be pleased to know that it’s still standing. I wonder if any of my old friends are still here. Halloo!” Her raised voice sent bats clattering into the sky.
“Be quiet!” commanded Huy. “More than just friends will be interested in our presence.”
He hurried them through the village and down the riverside path. Laylos stopped at her house and stared in dismay. The palisade had been ripped apart and the door hung open, supported by a single strap.
“Wait here,” said Huy and he stepped into the compound, his sword drawn. He returned shortly and beckoned to them. “There is nobody here. It looks as if it was broken into long ago.”
Kiya followed Laylos through the wrecked entrance into a garden of trampled plants and burgeoning weeds. The house was still standing but the awning had gone.
“It must have been one of the first buildings to be attacked, being on its own and so close to the river,” said Huy. “It is lucky you left when you did, my dear.” He put an arm around Laylos and held her close.
Kiya looked in through the window. Everything worth taking had been looted. “Poor Laylos,” she said and gave her aunt a kiss.
“We must spend the night here,” said Huy.
“First we must mend the door,” said Laylos.
Huy shook his head. “We must do nothing. Any attempt at repairs will alert the swamp men that someone is here.”
“Oh dear,” said Kiya. “Do you think they will come back?”
“Probably. We are on their route to the rest of Gesem. But what better place to hide than somewhere that has already been ransacked?”
With that comforting thought, they all settled down inside the house. Kiya unpacked the ba-theeth, from which Huy cut chunks with the knife he kept in his belt. He handed out the dark-brown lumps and took a tentative nibble. “Actually,” he whispered, “This does not taste as bad as it looks.”
“At least tonight we are neither hungry nor thirsty, but what of the morrow?” asked Laylos. She kept her voice low and looked fearfully at the doorway for fear of alerting unseen intruders.
“We will face tomorrow when it comes, but now we must sleep,” said Huy and settled himself on the hard earth floor. “Come, lie each side of me, women, and spread your cloaks to keep me warm.”
So Kiya lay beside her uncle, spread her cloak over him and was grateful for his body warmth as the night grew cold. Her sleep was disturbed. At one point she turned her head, to look through the br
oken door, and thought she saw dark figures slink along the riverside path. She might have been dreaming for she fell back into slumber and did not wake again until the morning.