Kiya and the God of Chaos

by Philippa Bower

  Chapter Seventy Six: The Cretan Tribute

  Kiya stood on the bank staring at the departing crocodile.

  “He was not very friendly,” said Laylos. “If we were not under the protection of the gods I dread to think what might have happened.”

  “We have much to be grateful for,” said Huy. “We are all safe, we have the ka and, if we make haste, we could be home by nightfall.”

  “Then let us set off,” Laylos said. “I need a good wash and a change of clothes. I feel ridiculous in this tunic.”

  “You look very fetching, my dear,” said Huy, “but I agree. I don’t like wearing Cretan clothes. People will think we are foreigners.”

  It was mid morning before they reached an inn. Laylos was anxious to stop for breakfast but the inn was crowded. A row of chariots and ox carts was parked on the road outside it. When they got nearer Kiya realised that the people guarding the ox carts were Cretan. This must be the tribute the Queen was sending to Ikhnaton.

  The sound of talking and laughter came from inside the building. “We might as well wait until the convoy moves on,” said Huy. “We will never get served while this lot is in the inn.”

  They walked slowly down the row of carts. Three of them were covered by tarpaulins, the fourth had a structure like a tent on top.

  “Can you distract the guard for a moment?” said Kiya. “I want to look inside this tent.”

  Huy and Laylos walked ahead of her. Suddenly Laylos tripped and lay on the ground moaning and clutching her ankle. “Help,” Huy called out to the guard. “Can you help me get her up? She is too heavy for me to manage on my own.”

  The guard hurried to assist. He must have assumed they were Cretan, for he spoke to them in a strange language.

  “When I am in Egypt I always speak Egyptian,” said Huy as they both hauled on Laylos’s arms.

  Kiya poked her head under the side of the tent, gave a gasp of surprise and scrambled up onto the ox cart, being careful not to upset the flower. There sitting red eyed and startled was Vitane, dressed in swathes of white silk.

  “Kiya!” she cried out in delight. “I have been praying that you would come and rescue me. Now my prayers have been answered.”

  “What is happening?” said Kiya.

  “I am being offered to Ikhnaton to join the harem in his new palace,” said Vitane. “This is my bridal gown.” She started crying again. “I don’t want to be in a harem, I want to go home.”

  “Don’t worry, Vitane. I will take your place,” said Kiya. What better way to gain entry to the palace without Isis seeing her? If she remembered correctly from Dennu’s plans there was a passage from the harem to the royal apartments.

  Vitane was looking at her with incredulity. “You would do this for me?” she said. “Oh, Kiya. I love you!” She flung her arms around Kiya’s neck.

  “First you must get out of that bridal gown,” said Kiya. She looked around the tent and saw a chest, which she opened to reveal a collection of fine clothes. “Choose one of these to wear.”

  While Vitane peered into the chest, Kiya took off her own shift and looked out of the tent. Laylos was leaning against the ox cart, still pretending to have damaged her ankle.

  “Psst,” said Kiya. “Vitane is in here. I am going to swap places with her so I can get into the palace.”

  “Oh dear,” said Laylos.

  “Here, look after my spear and my shift,” said Kiya. She tore off an inner pocket before handing the shift to Laylos. “I will give Vitane some gold so she can get home safely.”

  “Be quick,” said Laylos. “The guard has taken Huy into the inn to buy him a beer. They think we are Cretan and so I have been trusted to keep an eye on the convoy.”

  Kiya withdrew back into the tent. Vitane was indecisively picking clothes out of the chest.

  “Can I wear this?” she said, holding up a silken robe.

  “No,” said Kiya. “You must look as inconspicuous as possible.” She chose a simple tunic for the Princess. It was too short by Egyptian standards, but it would have to do.

  “I don’t like it much,” said Vitane, but she obediently got out of her bridal gown and into the tunic.

  Kiya gave her two gold nuggets. “Here, take these, you will need money to get back to your father.”

  “Oh, wow!” said Vitane. “I have never had money before!”

  “What?” Kiya looked at her friend with misgiving but there was no time for further talk, she helped Vitane out of the cart and into the care of Laylos.

  Kiya dressed in the bridal outfit using some of the transparent material to cover her face like a veil. She hid the flower beside the chest. There was the sound of jovial voices as the soldiers returned. One poked his head into the tent and spoke to her in Cretan. Kiya pretended to be weeping and, after leaving a jug of beer and loaf of bread on the floor beside her, the soldier disappeared.

  There was a jerk and the creaking of wheels and the convoy was underway. Kiya ate her breakfast and then relaxed against a bed of cushions. She was so exhausted by her broken night that, despite the jolting of the cart, she fell asleep.

  The sounds of busy streets and many people awoke Kiya. She looked out of the tent and saw that they had arrived at their destination. Even through her veil she could see that progress had been made with building the new city. Shops and houses lined the street along which they were travelling. Ahead of them was a long brick wall with a single gateway, guarded by soldiers. It must be the new palace thought Kiya and was impressed by how swiftly it had been constructed.

  There was some discussion between the convoy guards and the soldiers at the gate. It was in Egyptian but too far away for Kiya to make out the words. Then they were moving again, though the gateway and into a walled yard. A Cretan soldier came to the side of Kiya’s cart and said something in his own language.

  “When I am in Egypt, I speak Egyptian,” Kiya said.

  The soldier smiled. “I honour that decision, Princess. The Queen is anxious that you should make a good impression on the King. Please, no more crying.”

  “My tears are over,” said Kiya. She picked up the potted flower, took the soldier’s hand and allowed him to help her down from the cart. Behind her, other soldiers mounted the cart and brought out the chest that contained her clothes.

  Two of the palace guards joined them and bowed to Kiya. “Welcome to Egypt, your Highness,” said one of them. “Please allow us to escort you to your quarters.”

  Kiya bowed graciously and followed them through a door into a gloomy passageway that stretched as far as the eye could see in both directions. This must be the servants passage she remembered from Dennu’s plan of the palace. She found it difficult to walk in her swathes of silk, but the guards slowed their pace so she could keep up with them. They passed several doors and then stopped.

  “The harem is through that door, Princess,” the guard said. “I regret that we can escort you no further.”