Kiya and the God of Chaos
Chapter Seven: A New World
The next day, Kiya woke to the sound of drumming on the awning. She opened her eyes and saw fine rods of water descending upon the garden. Excitedly, she leapt from her bed, ran from the shelter and stood with her face lifted to the sky. Rain pattered onto her skin and trickled down her neck, dampening her hair and soaking the shift in which she had slept.
Laylos sat up, rubbing her eyes. “For Thoth’s sake, child. What are you doing?” she demanded.
“Is this rain? I have heard of such a thing, but I have never seen it before!” Kiya raised her arms and pirouetted between the flowerbeds.
“How fortunate,” said Laylos drily. “One good rain storm and the mud-brick houses of Thebes would be washed away.” She rose from the bed and started to fold the duvet. “Now come back and change into dry clothing before you catch a chill.”
Kiya skipped into the house and unpacked her spare shift from the travelling bag. She returned, changed and dry, in time to help Laylos roll the mattress.
After breakfast, Laylos cleared a space on the kitchen counter and unrolled a ragged-looking scroll. “Your great grandmother’s book of spells has been a source of income for three generations. Each medication needs a different hieroglyph to make it work.” Kiya watched her aunt bend over and pick up a reed-pen. She dipped it into a container of ink and selected a scrap of parchment from a nearby pile. “It is important to copy the pattern of the spell exactly, otherwise the medication will not work.”
Kiya was impressed, she had never seen anyone but a scribe write before. She watched as Laylos copied several spells from the scroll onto small squares of parchment. Her aunt did this slowly and with intense concentration, the top of her tongue protruding slightly from between her lips. When she had finished, she straightened up with a satisfied sigh.
“Now, while we wait for the ink to dry, you can help me pack jars and packets of medicine to take to market.” Laylos indicated rows of large storage jars upon shelves set against the walls. “These are dried plants from my garden. Fenugreek, to ease the pangs of childbirth, caraway for digestion, henna for skin conditions, hibiscus for coughs and coriander for aching joints.” She pointed to each jar in turn and then smiled at Kiya. “Don’t look so worried, child, you will soon become familiar with the properties of herbs.”
Following Laylos’s instructions, Kiya folded parchment into envelopes which Laylos filled with ingredients and then attached an appropriate spell. Some of the jars contained pills, some dried leaves, some seeds, some waxes and liquids. These last were poured into small earthenware bottles. Soon Laylos’s basket was full.
“Well done, Kiya, that took a shorter time than usual. Would you like to accompany me to Ankhis? The rain has stopped and a walk would do you good.”
Kiya shook her head. “I’m still tired after the journey. I would rather stay here, if I may, Aunt.”
Laylos smiled and picked up the basket of medicines. “Certainly, whatever you feel is best. I will be back at lunchtime.”
After Laylos left, Kiya tidied the house as best she could. Her travel cloak and shift needed to be washed so she picked up a leather bucket and went to the river to fetch water for the trough. She was pleased to see that a shaduf stood beside the river bank. Its counterweighted boom made lifting water from the Nile easy. The hard part of the task was carrying the full bucket across the path and up the mound to the garden.
Kiya was going back for a second bucketful when she noticed someone on the riverside pathway. Far away, a tall, graceful woman walked towards her with an unhurried stride. Kiya decided to wait until she passed and returned to the garden. She was about to shut the door of the stockade when a disdainful voice asked, “Are you the dancing girl?”
Kiya gave a start. How had the woman reached her so quickly? “W-What dancing girl?” she stammered.
The woman glowered. “Do not trifle with me, girl. I am looking for the dancing girl, Kiya, from the Ipet-Isut Temple.” A strong, sweet scent of new-mown hay filled the air and Kiya saw that the coils on either side of the woman’s head were not hair, but horns.
With a chill of fear she cried, “Go away!” She tried to push the door shut, but the woman thrust it open with a single hand.
“Your power has made you insolent,” she said.
“What power?” sobbed Kiya. “I have no power. I am just a girl.”
“You have power over Anubis,” said the woman. “You seduced him and he can think of nothing but you.”
Kiya’s heart beat faster and her cheeks grew hot.
“Ah, you blush. You wicked girl! How dare you presume to love an immortal?”
Kiya lowered her eyes and stood silent, wishing her beating heart would slow.
“He should have devoured you while the hunger was upon him, but you escaped and your magic worked upon his susceptible heart. I am pleased you left Thebes. Can I tell him that you will never return?”
Kiya’s mind was in a whirl. Anubis was in love with her? Was it possible? One thing was certain, she could never promise to stay away from her birthplace. She shook her head.
“How dare you defy me! Do you know who I am?”
Kiya raised her eyes and saw that, where once the woman had horns, she now had the head of a cow. “Hathor!” She fell to her knees and prostrated herself before the goddess.
“That’s better,” said Hathor. “Come, girl, let us take a walk along the river.”
Kiya rose to her feet. She must not be seen talking to an immortal, such a privilege was for priests alone. “It would be safer to stay in the garden,” she said. “Someone might recognise you.”
The cow’s eyes blazed. “Do you still seek to defy me, dancing girl?”
“No, no!” Kiya assured her, and she followed Hathor out of the stockade. A group of fishermen was walking along the riverbank towards them. Kiya glanced at Hathor and was relieved to see that she was once more in the guise of a woman - even the horns had gone. But for the strong scent of hay that still infused the air around her, she appeared to be an ordinary mortal.
“Do not flatter yourself that you are the first,” said Hathor. “No good ever came of such a liaison.”
A liaison? Kiya’s heart soared. Was it possible for her to be in a relationship with Anubis? “How can such a thing be? If we became close he would eat me.”
Hathor gave a sharp laugh. “The hunger for sustenance is nothing compared to the longing of the soul.”
“You are right,” said Kiya, “for my soul longs to be with him.”
“Foolish, headstrong girl,” said Hathor. “What can you hope to gain from this. You will jeopardise you immortal ka for what? As the years pass by, and you become old, there will be nothing but betrayal and loneliness.”
“I don’t care,” said Kiya, for the days of her youth seemed never ending.
“I give you one last chance to heed my warning and promise not to go back.”
Kiya shook her head. “I cannot. But why does it matter? Surely, if you have been able to find me so can Anubis.”
“Your ignorance knows no bounds, dancing girl. Know this - Anubis is a prisoner. The Sacred Lake is an opening to the Other World. He is allowed to leave the lake once a month when the moon is full. What kind of life do you imagine you can have with him?”
The fishermen were close and Kiya lowered her voice. “I am grateful that you have told me so much.”
“You will obey me now?”
“I cannot.”
The fishermen were level with them and drew to one side to allow them to pass. One of them gasped and pointed at Hathor. The others flung themselves to the ground. Kiya spun around and saw that her companion had changed back into a woman with a cow’s head.
“Goodbye, Kiya,” she said, and disappeared. For a moment the scent of sweet hay lingered and then it was borne away on the breeze and Kiya stood surrounded by worshipping fishermen.
One of them raised his head. “Where is the goddess?” he said.
&n
bsp; “She has gone,” said Kiya. And left me in a difficult situation, she thought.
“Are you a goddess?” asked another fisherman.
“No,” said Kiya. She tried to return to the stockade but they blocked her way.
“But we witnessed you talking to Hathor,” said the first man, who seemed to be their leader. “We must take you to the Nome Lord.”
“No!” protested Kiya, “I must get home.” She tried to push through them but they would not let her pass. “Please! My aunt will be worried.”
“Perhaps we should release her,” said one of the younger men, moved by Kiya’s distress.
There was a murmur of agreement but the leader held up his hand to quell the unease. “Massui is a wealthy man and will reward us if we bring him a girl who has spoken with Hathor.”
The thought of money overcame any qualms and two of the men seized Kiya’s arms with painful force. As they marched her back along the path towards the village, the group discussed how much the reward might be and how they would share it.
When they reached Ankhis, Kiya’s heart lifted. Shopkeepers were at their counters, perhaps one of them would save her. “Help me!” she called out as she was dragged through the square.
All eyes turned to stare at the fishermen. “Where are you taking the girl?” asked a man.
“To the Nome Lord, Massui the Priest,” said the leader of the fishermen. “He will reward us well when we tell him what we have seen.”
Massui’s name had an effect on the villagers. They lowered their eyes and turned away.
“Help me, please!” cried Kiya again but none of them intervened as the group crossed the square and left the village.