Chapter Five: A Perilous Journey
The next day, Kiya woke to see no sign of escarpments. All around lay farmland, with the distant gleam of streams and lakes. The Nile, itself, had changed from being a great waterway to a mere river.
Soon the journey would end and she would be at the mercy of her aunt. Ramala had often spoken of her younger sister, the one who had stayed at home in Ankhis. But Kiya had never met Laylos and there had been no way to forewarn her. Now that the end of her journey was in sight, Kiya’s misgivings loomed ever larger. Supposing her aunt was away or refused to offer sanctuary? How would she get back to Thebes without money for the fare?
“It’s time to get ready, Kiya. We have reached the delta.” Pepi came towards her, treading the narrow walkway along the edge of the barge. Despite his bulbous stomach, he was as sure-footed as a stork.
“Why has the Nile become so narrow?” asked Kiya.
“It splits as it nears the sea,” said Pepi. “We are sailing down one of the branches and will reach Qato soon.”
“Thank you for giving me a lift.” Kiya smiled up at him, conscious of how much she relied on his good will.
He did not return her smile. “Your father is very persuasive but, I fear, misguided. Peasants should stay in the place of birth ordained by the gods. Travelling is for merchants and those on the King’s business, not for a girl like you.” He looked at her with suspicion. “Why is Teos so anxious for you to leave Thebes? Have you stolen from the temple?” His eyes moved downwards to where her bag lay upon the sacks. “Is there treasure hidden in that luggage of yours?” Pepi grabbed the bag and rummaged through it, then he threw it back down with a dismissive grunt.
“No of course not!” Kiya’s mind was in a whirl. The greed of the man was evident from the way he had searched her belongings. If she told him the truth – that she was escaping from the temple guards, he might capture her in hopes of a reward. “I merely wish to visit my aunt.”
He shrugged, unconvinced. “Whatever the reason for your journey, I made an agreement with Teos and will honour it.” He turned and walked back to the crew.
Kiya looked after him in dismay. What price that agreement if Pepi had found stolen treasure in her bag? She suspected that she would have been thrown into the Nile with her throat cut.
She had never felt so alone as she packed the remains of her food, the empty flask of beer and her rug into the bag. A longing for her parents overwhelmed her and she brushed away the tears of homesickness.
The barge rounded a curve in the river and was steered towards a group of houses on a raised part of the bank. As they drew near Kiya saw that the hamlet was very different from the villages of the upper Nile. The houses were low as if built for dwarves and had smooth, white-washed walls, instead of the rough brickwork of home. A man emerged from one of the houses. Kiya was surprised to see he was of normal size and wondered how he could stand upright in such a building.
When the man saw the approaching boat he turned and called out. His words were indistinguishable from such a distance, but Kiya assumed he was calling his friends, for more men appeared. They looked a rough lot, ill-shaven and with ragged tunics. Some followed the man to the jetty towards which the boat was headed. Others went to a group of oxcarts which were waiting in the sparse shade of an acacia thicket. The oxen stood with their heads bowed and took no notice of the sudden activity.
“Throw the ropes! Pull!” Pepi shouted orders while the villagers grabbed ropes thrown at them by the crew. “Gently – you don’t want to overturn us!”
The men hauled the boat sideways and secured it to the landing stage. A gangplank was lowered and Pepi turned to Kiya.
“Wait over there, girl, out of our way.” He indicated a rack of fishing nets, which were drying in the sun.
Kiya picked up her bag and hurried to the nets. They stank of rotting fish and she sat down, drawing her cloak around her and burying her nose in the material, trying to block out the smell.
More men from the village ran past, eager to help with the unloading. She was aware of their curious glances and felt nervous. Soon, even the fragile protection offered by Pepi would be gone. How foolhardy it had been for her to travel on her own. And yet what other choice was there? There was more danger in Thebes then on the road to Ankhis.
A busy scene unfolded before her. Men carried heavy sacks of flax down the gangplank, while Pepi stood on shore, directing the number piled into each cart.
Kiya feared that in all the bustle he might forget about her but, when he had finished paying the villagers, he beckoned her over to one of the carts.
“Murham, here, will make sure you get to Ankhis safely,” he said and he handed the ox-cart driver two copper rings. “Come on, Kiya, let me help you up.” Pepi put his hands around her waist and lifted her onto the tailgate with the brusque efficiency of a man handling a piece of merchandise. Then he passed up her bag. “If you see Teos again, tell him I fulfilled my obligation.”
“I will,” promised Kiya. She wondered whether to smile and thank him but he turned abruptly away and headed back to his men.
The road to Ankhis was a rutted dirt track and Kiya felt bruised all over by the lurching of the cart. To add to the discomfort of the ride, she didn’t like the appearance of Murham. At one point he peered over his shoulder and gave Kiya a leering smile, revealing teeth that were worn down nearly to the gums.
“You’re a pretty, little thing to be travelling on your own.”
“My aunt is meeting me in Ankhis,” lied Kiya.
“It’s a dangerous journey for a young girl.”
Kiya said nothing. Murham shrugged and returned to his task. Kiya was aware of his broad shoulders and muscular arms. Please, Horus, don’t let him attack me, she prayed.
The trip seemed to take forever. Indeed, Kiya feared that they were not heading for Ankhis at all and that she was being kidnapped. She was starting to wonder at what point she should jump from the cart, when it stopped.
“Here we are,” said Murham. He climbed down from his seat and stretched luxuriously, straightening his back with a satisfied grunt.
Kiya looked around. The village was smaller than she had expected - just a cluster of buildings at a cross roads, grouped around a central square of beaten earth.
“Let me help you down.” Murham had come to the back of the cart and now offered his hand. She took it and he squeezed her fingers with unwelcome intimacy as he assisted her descent.
He pulled her bag down from the cart. “Which is your aunt’s house?” he said, as he handed it to her. She hesitated and he frowned. “Well?”
“None of them,” she admitted.
His frown turned into a scowl. “None of them? I was told to take you to Ankhis. What’s going on? Is your aunt really expecting you?”
“Hello there!” A man emerged from an alleyway between the buildings. “Is anything the matter?”
“No, thank you,” Kiya said and turned to the driver. “You may leave now. Goodbye.”
“I could do with a drink of beer,” he said. “Surely your aunt would not deny me that? It has been a long drive.”
“No!” said Kiya.
Murham glared at her and then at the newcomer, who was a large man with a florid complexion. “A curse upon you and your aunt,” he growled.
Kiya watched with relief as the angry driver climbed back into his cart and flicked the reins so the oxen lumbered away.
“We do not have many visitors in Ankhis.” The man had left the shadow of the building and was coming towards her. “Can I offer assistance?” His expression showed more curiosity than friendliness.
“No! - Thank you.” Kiya was determined to finish the journey on her own. She picked up her bag and surveyed the four roads that led from the square. Down one was the glint of water. She had been told her aunt lived in a garden beside the Nile, so she ignored the man and took the path to the river.
Kiya and the God of Chaos Page 5