Kiya and the God of Chaos

by Philippa Bower

  Chapter One hundred and thirty four: The Final Blow

  There were guards at the palace gate, although the walls had crumbled and anybody could access the complex through the rubble. As Kiya came towards them they recognised her and saluted.

  “What is happening, my Lady?” asked one of them.

  “The battle is over,” she told them. “We have won, but it has been at a great price. Akhetaten is in ruins and the child, Meri, has been killed.”

  The guards looked stricken by the news. “No, not the child!” said one. “How can we survive without him? He has saved the city from starvation.”

  “I hear that he was of wondrous goodness,” said the other.

  “He was indeed,” said Kiya and fought back her tears at the thought that she would never feel his love again. “I believe Lord Dennu might be injured within the palace grounds. I go to find him.”

  “Do you need help?” asked one of the soldiers.

  Kiya smiled and shook her head. “I can manage. You must leave to look after your families.”

  They thanked her and Kiya hurried into the palace. The destruction within the ramparts was as total as the destruction without. Kiya climbed over the remains of the courtyard wall and entered the garden. Some walls of the palace were still standing but others had fallen exposing the rooms within.

  Servants were wandering among the wreckage trying to salvage what they could. Chests, tables, chairs, dishes, goblets, linens, all were being stacked upon the lawn. Kiya remembered the splendour of the banquet. How quickly the glories of the palace had been destroyed. She prayed that Laylos was not hurt – nor Itet nor Vitane.

  A servant girl came past carrying a footstool. “Have you seen Lord Dennu?” Kiya asked her.

  “No, my Lady.”

  Kiya turned towards the garden. Did Dennu’s body lie there? She hurried across the lawn. Ahead of her she saw that many trees had been felled by the earthquake, their bare roots and broken branches a testament to the forces unleashed upon the city. Beyond the devastated grove, the lake shone in the sunshine, its peaceful surface showing no sign of the recent holocaust. A figure lay upon the shore.

  Kiya ran to the recumbent body, her heart beating so fast that she thought it might burst. It was Dennu. He lay face down upon the grass, his legs still submerged in the water among the crushed reeds. He must have fallen into the lake and survived long enough to crawl out, thought Kiya. But there was no sign of movement now. Was he still alive?

  With desperate hands she turned his body over and saw that he was as pale as linen. She fell to her knees beside him and laid a hand on his chest. It was still warm but she could feel no movement - he had ceased to breathe. She remembered Ogjeno beside the river in Nubia and how Ana had restored his life.

  Praying that she had remembered correctly, Kiya pinched Dennu’s nostrils together, pressed her lips against his and breathed into his lungs. His chest rose and, when she lifted her head, it fell again. She paused but he did not continue to breathe on his own and so she repeated the process.

  She would have repeated this facsimile of life forever, so great was her reluctance to lose him, but eventually Dennu coughed and spluttered and took in a shuddering breath.

  “You are alive!” Kiya cried and felt a surge of joy lift her heavy heart.

  Dennu opened his eyes. “My life is yours, Kiya,” he said and there was a look of such love and gratitude in his eyes that it was as if their past troubles had vanished and they were young and in love once more.

  She bent towards him and he reached up to pull her close. Their lips met in a long and lingering kiss then Kiya heard a voice cry, “Dennu!” She looked up and saw Itet come running across the lawn.

  Sadly, Kiya knew that this would be the last time she and Dennu would embrace. This had been their farewell kiss. Without a word she stood up and walked towards Dennu’s pregnant wife.

  “Thank the Aten you are safe, Kiya,” said Itet. Her anxious face looked past Kiya to where Dennu still lay among the rushes. “What has happened to my Lord Dennu?”

  “He has been dropped into the lake by a dragon,” said Kiya. “He will need much care.” Itet gave a little moan of distress and hurried to his side.

  Kiya continued to walk towards the ruin that had once been Dennu’s house. A figure appeared from behind a bush and confronted her. It was the dwarf Bes and he held a slender dagger in his hand. His ugly features were contorted with spite.

  “You think you have won, Kiya,” he spat. “You wicked girl, hated by your father. There will be no victory for you today.”

  He lunged at her. Kiya dodged and reached for her javelin. To her dismay she realised it was no longer in her belt, She must have left it in the temple when the snake woman had been killed.

  “You are wrong,” she said. “Seth no longer hates me. We have become reconciled.”

  “Then it is I who hate you,” he said and lunged again. This time he scored a hit, the dagger sliced through her shift and wounded her in the thigh.

  She looked at the crimson bloom growing upon the white linen and then she turned and ran towards Dennu. He was on his feet staring in shock at what was happening. He and Itet both ran towards her.

  “We are too late to catch him, he has gone,” said Dennu.

  “Was that Bes?” said Itet in astonishment. “Oh, my poor Kiya. He has stabbed you in the leg.”

  “It is a mere flesh wound,” said Kiya, but her leg was becoming numb and she staggered as she tried to walk.

  Dennu and Itet stood on either side of her, their arms around her waist. “We must get her back to the house,” said Dennu. “Her aunt will know what to do. She is a medicine woman of great experience.”

  The world began to fade around Kiya and she struggled to maintain consciousness. The last thing she knew, Dennu had lifted her into his arms and was carrying her close to his heart.