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The Women and the Boatman

Page 29

by Mark Gajewski


  “Just like Ipu told us,” Dedi remarked to Aboo.

  I nodded, then motioned. Heth stepped to my side. “Finally, and most importantly, this is Heth. He’s a craftsman. I’ve brought him from Maadi to work for me. And this…” – I bent, lifted – “is an ingot of pure copper.”

  Many gasped. No one in Nekhen had seen a piece of copper larger than a chunk before.

  “As you can see from the deck of my boat, I’ve brought back a considerable number of ingots, my share of our cargo.” I paused dramatically. “This copper, and Heth, are going to transform our way of life at Nekhen.”

  Murmurs rose from the boatmen.

  “A bold claim,” Aboo said uncertainly. “Explain yourself, Nykara.”

  Elite men had been joining us one after another as I showed off my goods, pushing through the crowd to stand close beside Aboo and Dedi. Most were here now. Some appeared interested by my claim, some dubious. Pipi stared at me thoughtfully.

  “In many ways, craftsmen at Maadi are more advanced than ours at Nekhen,” I said. “They don’t use stone tools anymore.”

  More low murmurs from the crowd. The elites were giving each other sidewise glances.

  “Theirs are made of copper,” I continued. “Nomads mine the ore on the far side of the eastern desert. It’s as common to them as flint is to us. They smelt it into ingots and carry it by donkey to Maadi, where a man named Haran operates a copper works. Heth was one of his metalsmiths. His job was to resmelt ore and forge tools from it.”

  Heth reached into a large leather pouch slung over his shoulder, pulled out an object, handed it to me. He’d held onto that pouch the entire trip so it wouldn’t be lost if we capsized.

  “This is a copper saw,” I said, holding it high so all could see. It glowed redly in the torchlight.

  One of my crewmen carried an armful of wood planks forward and stacked them on the ground before Dedi and Aboo. Then he held one up for all to see.

  “Using this saw and a small copper axe I made these planks from the trunks of acacia trees during the journey home,” I announced. “Note their uniformity of size, their smooth edges.” I gave the saw back to Heth, picked up two planks, held their ends flush. “Notice how nicely they fit together.” I addressed Dedi. “I’ve solved the problem,” I said simply. “I’ve figured out how to join planks together, by drilling shallow holes along their four edges and lacing them tightly against each other with rope.” I paused for dramatic effect. “Dedi – I can build a wood boat.”

  The sudden babble of voices from every direction told me all the boatmen understood what that implied. They were as excited as I’d been the moment I’d realized such a thing was possible.

  “We’re no longer going to be constrained by the size and frailty of reeds,” I asserted. “We can make far larger boats, operate fewer of them to make our deliveries, crew them with fewer men, take larger cargoes on longer trade expeditions, return with far more goods. Just like we discussed all those years ago on our expedition to Abu.”

  “We’ll double our profit,” Dedi told Aboo.

  “I spent every night during our return sketching designs on pieces of leather,” I told Dedi excitedly. I pulled the scraps from my pouch, pressed them into his hands. “I even carved a small model to figure out the types of planks I’ll need, and how many. Heth’s already designed the tools. I’ve determined how many of each kind he’ll forge. I’m going to build my smithy at the edge of the boatyard – I’ve learned acacia dulls copper quickly, so Heth will need to be close by to reforge tools as we work.” I glanced around at my co–workers. “Enough tools to keep all of us boatmen occupied.”

  Everyone was ecstatic.

  “First thing in the morning, some of you will set up a smithy, right over there, with Heth’s guidance,” I announced to the boatmen. I wasn’t going to waste any time launching the era of wood boat building. “Others will start gathering the fuel Heth will need to stoke his fires.” I spotted Harkhebi standing among the elites. “I’ll visit you tomorrow to let you know the size and shapes of trees we’ll need your woodcutters to bring us so we can begin to create my new boat’s components.” I addressed the boatmen. “As soon as Heth makes the tools, I’ll train you all how to use them, and then we’ll get to work.”

  “You’ve done well, Nykara,” Aboo told me with satisfaction, “far better than I expected.” He turned to his torchbearers. “Each of you – carry a wine jar back to my house. Dedi, see that the rest get to my storage hut.”

  “Except for my share,” Dedi said, smiling.

  Aboo nodded. “Of course.”

  “Build your boat quickly, Nykara,” Dedi interjected. He glanced sideways at Aboo. “Because when you go back to Maadi I’m going too.”

  Aboo laughed and clapped him on the shoulder.

  They, and Abar, and the elites hurried off after the torchbearers, to sample the wine in Aboo’s audience hall at his invitation. The boatmen and craftsmen and their families milled about the boat and landing for a while, closely inspecting my cargo, then gradually dispersed. As the last drifted off I issued orders to a dozen workmen, indicating which containers to move to Dedi’s storage hut and which to Aboo’s. I’d just finished when I spotted Pipi, still standing off to the side. He hadn’t departed along with the other elites. He motioned to me and I joined him, out of everyone’s hearing. I’d been dreading this moment the whole journey. I had no intention of taking him up on his offer to become part of his proposed alliance with Aboo, especially not after discussing it with Abar before I departed. She considered joining with Wehemka, as she’d be required to do as part of Pipi’s deal, almost as bad as joining with Rawer. I’d spent a considerable amount of time figuring out the best way to wriggle out of our tentative agreement without offending him. I didn’t want to make an enemy of an elite if I could avoid it.

  “Dedi didn’t hand me his enterprise tonight, like you were certain he would,” I said before Pipi could speak. I tried to sound disappointed. “Even after what I’ve accomplished.”

  “Give him a day or so,” Pipi replied.

  “A day, a month, a decade – Dedi’s never going to make me his heir,” I said crisply. “I told you that before. Tonight proves it.”

  “He’d be crazy to turn the fleet over to Rawer.” Pipi ran his hand through his hair, perturbed.

  I shrugged. “Men have done crazier things. Rawer is Dedi’s blood, after all. Look, Pipi, I really appreciate the offer you made me before I left for Badari. It’s extraordinarily generous. What commoner’s ever received one like it? Believe me, I’d like to take it. I’d certainly like to be joined to Wenher.” No sense confessing that was the last thing I wanted now. It was Amenia who’d grabbed my heart. “But I can’t in good conscience. How can I take your daughter from you when I honestly don’t believe I’ll end up with the fleet and so I won’t ever be able to combine it with your enterprise? It would be wrong of me to force you to uphold up your end of our deal when I know I can’t uphold mine. So, reluctantly, I have to decline.”

  “You’re a forthright young man, Nykara,” Pipi said. “I’d be proud to have you as part of my family. I appreciate your sense of fairness. I don’t encounter that often. But what if you’re wrong? What if Dedi does name you his heir in a day or a month or a year? What then?” I could sense Pipi’s desperation. His carefully crafted plan was disintegrating.

  “I promise you I won’t ally myself to any other elite,” I said impetuously. “I’ll reject any offers they make. I’ll come directly to you if Dedi ever gives me his enterprise. You have my word.” I made the promise easily. I’d never have to keep it.

  Pipi sighed. “Your word is good enough for me, Nykara. I suppose waiting for Dedi to see reason and make the right decision about his enterprise is the best we can both hope for.” Pipi sighed again, then leaned close and elbowed me gently in the ribs. “Wenher’s going to be very disappointed. She’s taken a real liking to you, Nykara. She was looking forward to being with you.”
r />   “Tell her that’s what I regret most,” I lied. “But if I’m right about Dedi and you’re wrong we both know you’ll need to use her to form another alliance. You’d have wasted her on me.”

  “Sad, but true,” Pipi replied. “After all, that’s what daughters are for.”

  ***

  Hours later, everything I’d brought back from Maadi safely stowed in Dedi’s and Aboo’s storage huts, I sat alone on the deck of my boat. I’d accomplished something special and I wanted to be alone to savor it. I’d proven myself as an explorer and trader and navigator and leader these past months. I’d proven my value to Nekhen. Thanks to my copper, even if Rawer took the fleet away from me, as I believed he eventually would, I’d be wealthy enough to build my own boat and trade on my own and independently pursue Dedi’s quest.

  The moon was up and the moon path shimmered on the river. The sounds of insects rose on every side. The boat bobbed and swayed on the powerful familiar current. I lay my hand affectionately on its deck. My boat had stood up to the journey, though just barely. It would never make another. But what I’d learned designing it and building it and traveling such a long distance would serve me well as I embarked on my next, far more important, construction project.

  I removed a small leather pouch attached to my belt, opened it, fished out a boat–shaped copper amulet attached to a length of twine, held it up. It glittered in the moonlight. I studied its elegant swinging shape. Heth had made it for me before we left Maadi, a gift for Amenia to mark an expedition successful in large part because of her pottery. I couldn’t wait to give it to her. But mostly, I couldn’t wait to see her again.

  Abar suddenly ascended the gangplank and stepped down onto the deck. I recognized her despite the semi–darkness; her petite figure was distinct. I lay the amulet flat on my thigh and greeted her.

  “Thank you for your wonderful gifts, Nykara,” she said, perching next to me on the side of the boat. She touched the necklace with her fingertips. A fragrant lily tucked behind her right ear scented the air. Her face was lit by moonlight, her eyes shadowed.

  “They’re little enough payment for you arranging for me to go on my expedition.”

  “Still, it was sweet of you,” Abar said simply. She stroked the side of the boat with her fingertips. “Looks like you were lucky to make it home.”

  “We were lucky to make it there. The gods were watching over me and my crew.”

  “You took quite a risk continuing north when Badari didn’t pan out.”

  “I know. Believe me, Abar, I didn’t do it lightly. If I’d come back from Badari with a load of their substandard goods your father would’ve judged my trip a failure. He’d never have allowed any boatman to go north again. Still, returning with something would’ve been preferable to going all the way to the delta and finding nothing. That would have cost me the fleet. Your father would have pressured Dedi into giving it back to Rawer. Dedi’s quest to expand Nekhen’s influence would’ve been dead. Along with your ambitions.”

  “Why did you decide to push on, then?”

  “I imagined what you’d do.”

  Abar smiled. “So, you made an important trade connection and discovered a fabulous source of new goods.”

  I grasped the boat amulet in my hand, rose, faced her. “More than that, Abar. The true benefit of my trip to Maadi is from now on I’ll have copper tools to shape wood. The impact on Nekhen’s future of my being able to construct wood boats may be beyond measure. It may be the most important development in this valley since people started farming.”

  “Do you really think so?” She sounded intrigued.

  I gazed at the river flowing towards the lands in the distant North, lands I couldn’t wait to visit again. “The people who live along this river have very similar lifestyles, Abar. You and I both know that’s because small bands of people have been migrating into and out of the valley from the east and west, and within it from north to south, for thousands of years. Those encounters have led to a mixing of cultures and traditions.”

  “You’ve been paying attention to Grandfather’s stories,” she said.

  “And to you.” I laughed. “Remember the one about your ancestress, a woman born somewhere in the western desert, who traveled to the delta and joined with a man who lived there?”

  “She adopted her new band’s traditions and gods and way of life, yet retained parts of her own. She passed that hybrid on to her daughter. Her daughter joined with a man who lived twenty miles farther south. She took the hybrid culture she’d been born into and added it to that of her man. So, over hundreds of generations, because of joinings alone, cultures in the valley have slowly mixed until all now have elements of all others.”

  “Yes,” I affirmed. I sat next to her again. “Because we live in a long narrow valley, each major settlement affects those living directly to its north and south, but no farther, just as a single one of your female ancestors who joined with a man in a different band affected only that band.”

  “Hence my plan to place traders in Tjeni and Nubt, convert them over time to be like us from within,” Abar said.

  “A strong foundation indeed to increase Nekhen’s influence. But here’s something new to consider – men from a settlement possessing wood boats can travel the entire length of the valley in a few weeks, over and over, repeatedly exposing the people of every hamlet along the way to its culture and gods and products, influence their lives in an accelerated way.”

  “Weeks, not generations.” Abar grasped my hand. “Because of the wood boat you’re going to build and use for trade, the rest of the people who live in the valley will start to be more like us than Tjeni or Nubt almost right away.”

  “Or at least know about our culture and way of life. That’s even better than we hoped would happen the day you convinced your father to send me to Badari.”

  “So we’ll steal a march on Tjeni and Nubt, bring Badari and Maadi and every hamlet in the North to see Nekhen as the most important settlement, the one to align with, not compete against,” Abar said. “That’ll be the true legacy of your boats and tools.”

  “As long as Nekhen’s leader has the foresight to act.”

  “Rawer and foresight. Not two words I’d use together,” Abar scoffed.

  “Which means we absolutely have to make sure you’re powerful enough in your own right to force Rawer to carry out your will after you’re joined.”

  “And force the elites to back me, or at least not oppose me,” she said.

  “My smithy will be the key,” I said thoughtfully. “I predict before long everyone in Nekhen is going to rely on the products of Heth’s forge. Then, if Rawer takes the fleet from me, so what? I’ll have wealth enough to build my own fleet and combine it with your donkeys. We’ll be able to pursue Dedi’s quest without interference.”

  “You’re not a commoner anymore, Nykara, or, at least, you won’t be for long,” Abar said with satisfaction. “Because of this trip, because of your boat, because of your smithy, you’re going to become an elite.”

  “I don’t care about the status. But being an elite will allow me to support you against Rawer in a meaningful way. And against any elites too set in their ways to yield to a bright woman.”

  “The elites will listen to you, Nykara. No man in Nekhen has your presence, Father included. Who else is intimately acquainted with the elite men in every settlement and hamlet in the valley? Who else successfully negotiates with them? Who else has traveled to Maadi and returned against all odds? Who has accomplished half of what you have? Yes, they will indeed pay attention to you.”

  “That’s good. Because you and I are going to have to educate Nekhen’s elites about the world and the possibilities we see. Like Rawer, they all look inward, to Nekhen. To them, this stretch of river and how it can enrich their lives is all that matters. Right now the only people who believe Nekhen can be the greatest settlement in the valley – and that it should even strive to be – are Dedi and you and me.”

&n
bsp; A jackal yelped somewhere across the river, its cry echoing against the far plateau, gradually died away.

  “Speaking of elites, Pipi didn’t come back to Father’s to drink his wine along with the rest,” Abar noted.

  “We had a long talk about our deal,” I said.

  “And?”

  “Pipi truly expected Dedi would name me his heir tonight, even though I’d assured him he wouldn’t. After a bit of discussion, I promised him if Dedi ever gives me his fleet I’ll uphold our agreement at that time. Which I don’t expect to ever have to do.”

  “What about Wenher?”

  “Pipi was prepared to give her to me tonight as a sign of good faith. I told him I couldn’t accept her because I’ll never be able to uphold my end of the bargain.”

  Surprisingly, Abar seemed relieved. “My cousin will be extremely disappointed,” she reported. “You’re going to be quite the hero after your trip to Maadi. The whole time you were gone Wenher was bragging to her friends the two of you were going to be joined. When they find out you’re still free they’ll start pursuing you. Wenher’s going to be kept busy fighting them off.”

  “I doubt that,” I scoffed. Being chased by the daughters of boatmen was one thing. Being chased by elite women was highly unlikely. Wenher, of course, was an entirely different matter.

  “Don’t underestimate yourself, Nykara. Wenher may have to fight me off too,” Abar said lightly.

  I couldn’t help laugh.

  “I used to think there was no man in Nekhen worthy of me,” she said, suddenly serious. “I was wrong. You are, Nykara. You were barely out of sight on your trip to Badari before I started missing you – our conversations, our working and laughing together. I missed how happy and contented you make me feel. I couldn’t stop thinking about Pipi’s offer to join you to Wenher. It awakened me to feelings I’d never experienced before. Frankly, I discovered I was insanely jealous of my cousin, not only at the thought she might join with you – but that you might want to be with her.”

 

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