As Kiya hastened along the riverside path, the wind blew, rustling the reeds. Several times she glanced around, frightened that the man might be following her. It was getting late. Back at the temple they would be preparing for the Dance of Safe Passage.
Memories of Anubis came flooding back. Gods and monsters were as much part of the world as mortal man. What terrors might be stalking her through the reed beds or beneath the gurgling waters of the Nile? She was no longer walking now, but running. With increasing despair she wondered if she had taken a wrong turning and would never find her aunt’s house.
Then there it was - exactly as her mother had described it, standing alone on a hillock and surrounded by a tall stockade of reeds.
Kiya hurried to the gate, and shouted, “Hello!” The gate was too high for her to look over and she waited impatiently for her aunt’s response. There was no answer. Was Laylos not there? “Hello!” She shouted again so loudly that she feared her voice could be heard in Ankhis.
The twittering birds fell silent, the world seemed to hold its breath then, at last, a woman’s voice answered. “Go away! It’s too late in the day to buy medicines.”
“I have no need for medicines,” shouted Kiya. “I am your niece, Kiya. I have come to see you.”
After a pause, the door opened and Laylos peered out. “Kiya? What are you doing here?”
Kiya felt joy at the sight of her, she looked so like her mother. The same wide-set brown eyes, the same long lashes, the same pale skin, but Laylos was fat, like a cow, while Ramala was as slender as a fawn.
“I have come to visit you, Aunt Laylos. There has been a problem at home.”
Laylos frowned. “What has happened? Is my sister ill? You had better come in.” She ushered Kiya into an enclosed garden, in the centre of which was a small house shaded by acacia and juniper trees. An awning stretched between the building and trees to the front. “What is wrong? How did you get here? Did you travel on your own?” Laylos’s questions continued then, at last, paused long enough for Kiya to answer.
“I have come alone. It has been a difficult journey and I may have to stay with you for a while.”
“I do not know,” Laylos shook her head and Kiya feared the worst. “This is very inconvenient. What is going on? Why is it not safe for you at home?” Tiredness and her aunt’s lack of welcome combined to bring tears to Kiya’s eyes. Laylos was contrite. “I am sorry, child, please stop crying. Come into the house and I will find you a cloth to wipe away those tears.”
Kiya followed her inside and had to stoop to get through the doorway. In the gloom of the interior she saw that the floor had been lowered by a cubit.
“Mind the steps” called out Laylos, who had crossed to the kitchen area, where the delicious aroma of duck stew emanated from a pot, bubbling on the fire pit.
Kiya blinked away her tears and carefully negotiated the two steps that led down to the beaten-earth floor. She straightened up and was relieved that she was able to stand tall, without fear of banging her head on the ceiling. The room was small - even smaller than the living room of her parents home. It was lined with shelves bearing boxes and jars. More jars stood upon the kitchen counter plus stacks of papyrus paper and small earthenware pots. Kiya could understand her aunt’s reluctance to host a visitor in such a cramped and untidy home. Kiya watched Laylos search through the clutter on the counter. Her aunt found a scrap of linen, which she handed to Kiya.
“There you are, my dear. Now, wipe your eyes, blow your nose and no more upsets. You must be hungry after such a trip. Why don’t we have supper? There’s plenty in the pot for two.”
Kiya wiped away her tears and began to feel more cheerful. “Yes, thank you. I am starving.”
Laylos took a bowl from the shelves below the table and handed it to Kiya. “I should have some bread somewhere,” she said, peering around the kitchen. “Ah, there it is.” She spooned stew into Kiya’s bowl, then broke the bread in half and placed it on top. “We will sit outside. Pour yourself a goblet of beer to take with you.”
Kiya helped herself from the flagon and took the goblet and bowl into the garden. A rolled-up mattress lay against the wall of the house under the awning. She sat down upon it and, without waiting for her aunt to join her, she put her goblet down on the ground and started to eat.
Laylos carried out her supper and sat on the mattress beside her. “My, my, you are a hungry girl! I always eat out here because the table is covered in my medicines. I will have to get organised now that you have come to stay.”
Kiya felt as if a weight had been lifted at these words. “Thank you, Laylos. I was worried you might turn me away.”
“Turn you away?” Her aunt stared at her in astonishment. “Why would I turn away my own niece? You can stay as long as you need to, my dear. What a pretty girl you have become - just like Ramala. Now tell me why you have had to leave home.”
While Kiya ate, she described being sacrificed to Anubis and how her father had saved her. “I cannot be allowed such forbidden knowledge, which is why I seek sanctuary with you, dear Aunt.”
“Are you sure you were not dreaming?” It took many questions before Laylos could believe that the god who guarded men’s souls after death was capable of devouring their bodies.
A brief sunset had darkened into night and Kiya shivered in the cooling air.
“It’s time for bed,” said Laylos. “Though whether I shall sleep after hearing such terrible things...”
She collected the empty dishes and took them into the house. Then she came out and unrolled the mattress. It was more than wide enough for two people. Kiya lay on the mattress while her aunt went indoors to collect the bedding. After the strain of the journey it was a pleasure to relax upon its softness and let the stress leave her body. She was half asleep when her aunt covered her with a duvet.
“Good night. Sleep well,” Laylos said. The mattress sagged as she lay down next to Kiya.