Chapter Eight: Massui the Priest
Kiya stopped struggling and walked in the midst of her captors. The sun-god, Ra, was riding high in the sky and her shadow was a pool of darkness at her feet. Every step took her further into the gloom of the unknown and her heart, which had so recently soared with happiness, was now heavy with anxiety. Laylos would soon return home - what would she think when she found her missing?
“Let me go! My aunt will be worried about me.” She tried to stop, but they dragged her by the arms, forcing her to keep up.
She looked for someone who might come to her aid, but the countryside was sparsely inhabited. On either side stretched fields of stubble, dotted by farm buildings. A few people worked on the land but they were far away and showed no interest in the passing fishermen.
Upon the road was a peasant, walking towards them, a reaping hook over his shoulder. Kiya waited until he drew aside to allow the group to pass and then cried, “Help me!”
She was rewarded by a painful tug on her arm and a look of blank indifference from her hoped-for rescuer. After that, Kiya gave up. Fear hung like a pall over Gesem and she knew that any strangers they might encounter would not dare to intervene.
The road stretched onwards for what seemed like an eternity. Few trees offered shade and Kiya was so tired and thirsty that, despite her apprehension, she was almost pleased when the leader announced journey’s end.
“There is Massui’s palace,” he said, pointing towards an island of greenery.
Kiya raised her head and could make out a large building set in a garden of trees and shrubs. To her agitated mind, it looked like a great, white lion crouched, ready to devour her.
The fishermen hauled Kiya through the gardens, towards a flight of stone steps leading up to the entrance. Two guards blocked the doorway with crossed spears.
“What do you want?” asked one.
“Sir, we bring this woman to Massui the Priest,” said the fishermen’s leader.
The soldier looked Kiya up and down with disdainful eyes. “And why would my master be interested in such a girl?”
“We discovered her talking to Hathor.”
The others chorused their agreement and the guards uncrossed their spears.
"Do not waste his Lordship’s time with foolish stories,” said one of the soldiers, as the group filed past him. “If you lie, Massui will have your tongues slit.”
“And you will be thrown into the scorpion pit,” added his companion, with a laugh.
With these warnings in their ears, the fishermen entered nervously, crouched down, ready to bow. Kiya walked in their midst and felt the menace of the building. Squat pillars supported the low ceiling of the main hall. The walls were coloured in flat shades of ochre unadorned by murals. Light from the high windows made barred shadows on the floor like a prison. Kiya shivered despite the heat.
There was a throne on a dais at the far end of the room. As they approached, Kiya saw that it was made of ebony and carved into an elaborate pattern of intertwining serpents. Topaz and carnelian gem stones represented their eyes. She waited with the fishermen before the throne and looked more closely at the carvings. These were not the snakes of rebirth and protection but more like the demon Apep, snarling and aggressive. Within their open mouths ivory fangs were erect and ready to strike.
A door in the wall at the back of the dais opened and a huge man appeared, outlined by the flickering, red light behind him. He stepped forwards and Kiya knew by his priestly robes that this must be Massui. A dark shadow drifted through the door after the priest and the scent of frankincense filled the air. Kiya was more fearful than ever. An immortal had entered the room. But who? She stared beyond Massui to the shadow and watched as it merged with the dimness behind the throne.
“Come, come!” The priest beckoned to the fishermen. “What is it you want of me?”
“Sir, my Lord, we bring you this girl. We witnessed her talking to the goddess Hathor.” The leader’s voice cracked with nerves.
Massui frowned. “When was this?”
“This morning, my Lord, on the path beside the Nile.”
“What nonsense!” The priest’s frown deepened. “What made you think her companion was Hathor?”
The fishermen cringed, terrified by Massui's displeasure. Their leader managed to continue speaking. “This girl was talking to a woman with the head of a cow. We prostrated ourselves in worship, but when we raised our eyes the goddess was gone.”
Massui glared at Kiya and his sour expression deepened. “Tell me, girl, what did the goddess say to you?”
Kiya hesitated. If she denied meeting Hathor, the fishermen would have their tongues slit and no man deserved such a fate. “She bid me good day, my Lord,” she said.
“Nothing more? No prophesy? No words of wisdom?” Kiya shook her head. “With so little said, it seems a poor sort of meeting.” The priest paused and leant back in his chair. The shadow-figure behind him drifted forwards. The priest nodded and rose to his feet. “Stand away from the girl,” he commanded the fishermen.
What is happening? thought Kiya. What did the shadow say to Massui? Am I to be killed?
Massui came to the front of the dais, took something from the purse around his waist and threw it to the floor. Kiya stared – it was a snake made from wax. The priest muttered an incantation and, to Kiya’s horror, the snake came alive. She recognised an asp - one of the deadliest of serpents. Its fangs dripped venom as it lunged towards her. Kiya screamed and flung herself backwards, half-fainting with shock. The priest laughed as she lay sprawled on the ground.
“She certainly is no immortal!” He picked up the snake, which shrank into its waxen form. “What is your name, girl?”
Kiya stayed silent, not wanting to reveal such precious information to a magician. One of the fishermen said, “The goddess called her Kiya.”
Massui turned to him and said, “You did right to bring this girl to me.” He gestured towards a pillar and a servant came forwards from the shadows holding a leather purse. “A silver money ring for each of you,” said the priest. “And if anyone comes looking for this girl, deliver them to me.”
“Yes, my Lord.” The fishermen bowed up and down like geese upon the mudflats, their relief palpable. The servant put a money ring into each of their outstretched hands.
“Thank you, my Lord. Thank you.”
It was probably more money than any would make in a month, thought Kiya as she watched them hurry from the hall. And yet at what cost was it earned? Their avarice had placed her in deadly peril.
“What are we going to do with you, Kiya?” Massui’s voice drew her attention back. He sat on the throne and no longer appeared disdainful, but grinned, enjoying her predicament. “The gods dislike mortals who lie. I want to know exactly what passed between you and Hathor.”
“She said…” Kiya paused, wondering how much of the conversation to reveal. “She said I should stay away from Thebes.”
“Why?”
“She said I was unwelcome there.”
“Hmmm! So Hathor wants you gone, eh?”
“Yes,” said Kiya.
“How fortunate. Soon it will be time for the priests of Crocopolis to pay tribute to the children of Sobek. Each nome must send an offering and what better choice than you, a girl who speaks with gods.”
“No!” cried Kiya. She glanced desperately to left and right and noticed a youth half-hidden behind one of the pillars. He had been staring at her but, when she caught his eye, he withdrew. “Help me!” cried Kiya, but she spoke to empty air.
“There is no one to help you here,” said the priest. “It is an honour to be thrown to the jewelled crocodiles of the Temple of Sobek. Only by making such a sacrifice can we ensure the floods of Akhet. Guards!” His sudden shout startled Kiya and she spun around to see two men march towards her.
“Have mercy!” she cried, but Massui shook his head.
“You play a dangerous game, Kiya. Only priests can talk with gods
. Be grateful that your fate is not worse.” The guards seized her by the arms. “Take her to the confinement room and lock her in.” Kiya tried to struggle but the powerful soldiers lifted her feet from the floor and hurried her away.