Then my uncles climbed out and men quickly filled the grave with the sand piled next to it and mounded more over it. Nykara held me again while that was done, for I couldn’t bear to watch. I was shaking with sobs and once more buried my face against his chest.
Afterwards, everyone assembled at the edge of the cemetery, where neighbors had prepared a funeral feast. The crowd was simply too large to hold it in the family pavilion amidst the graves. There were platters piled with bread and jars brimming with beer and bowls filled with vegetables and fruit and even meat. I was leading Dedi and Aboo and Nykara and Rawer and Abar through the cemetery towards the feast when Uncle Hemaka approached.
He bowed. “I am honored by your presence,” he said to all of them.
“Ipu was a good woman,” Aboo replied.
“The honor is mine,” Dedi added. He rested his right hand on Uncle’s left shoulder momentarily. Uncle looked startled at the unexpected familiarity.
“Please, sit with my family during the feast,” Uncle Hemaka told Dedi and Aboo.
He led them away. Nykara and I trailed after. Abar’s steps lagged and gradually she fell back even with us. “I’m truly sorry for your loss,” Abar told me. She put her arm around me.
“Thank you. I’m so glad you came.”
“I know how much you loved Ipu. It must seem strange to be taking her place at last.”
“Frightening,” I admitted. “I already feel the weight of it.”
“I’m familiar with that weight,” she replied.
Abar was referring to the responsibilities that came with being the daughter and someday the woman of Nekhen’s ruler. Or perhaps ruler in her own right.
“We’ll be able to talk in public from now on, as we perform our official duties at festivals and celebrations,” Abar said. “In fact, it’ll seem odd if we don’t.”
“No more sneaking around,” I replied. “That’ll be nice.”
I sat on a mat between Dedi and Nykara while we ate, with Uncle Hemaka and Auntie and my cousins to Nykara’s right. Aboo and Abar and Rawer sat directly across from us on the other side of a cluster of bowls and platters and jars. Uncle Sanakht and Nekauba disappeared. I wasn’t sorry. Every single elite man approached me to offer his condolences; I supposed being considered important by them was something I was going to have to get used to from now on. Dedi and Uncle Hemaka and Aboo talked for a long time about trade expeditions and how Nykara’s wood boat would extend Aboo’s reach up and down the river and about the increasing production of the potters. Abar made a few comments, mostly concerning Nekhen’s future, ones I was familiar with from our discussions beside the river. As she talked her eyes strayed constantly to Nykara. This was the first time all three of us had been together since that long–ago time in Dedi’s hut, my first chance to observe their grown–up interactions. What I saw was alarming. Abar loves Nykara! It’s so obvious. Is Nykara aware? I suppose not. He doesn’t look at her the way she’s looking at him. He’s not the kind of man who’d play around with two women at the same time either. But I couldn’t help feeling insecure. Abar was absolutely stunning, at age nineteen Nekhen’s most beautiful woman. On top of that she was powerful and important and desirable. If Abar ever decided to throw herself at Nykara, what chance would I have? She worked closely with him; she wouldn’t lack opportunity. I was at best plain–looking, a potter, with no prospects. My fingers rose to the talisman around my neck. Almost no prospects, I corrected myself, though certainly none to match Abar’s. My only comfort was that Nykara was even now seeking my hand with his. And the fact Abar was my friend. I hoped that was enough to keep her from trying to take Nykara away from me. Especially since, as the falcon god’s priestess, I now held her fate in my hands. All at once the extent of the power I could wield hit home.
Rawer was staring at me, very uneasily, as if he was making some kind of calculation. It wasn’t hard to guess what was on his mind. I met his stare and he quickly looked away. Earlier I’d observed him stroking the thighs of several serving girls as they poured beer into our cups. From that I inferred the reputation he’d earned for being unfaithful to Abar was fact, not rumor, especially since he was behaving so badly in her very presence. No wonder she was doing everything she could to avoid being joined to him. I couldn’t conceive of Rawer doing such things when Abar was promised to him. In his place, if I was a man, I’d be spending my energy making her happy. Unless he too was aware Abar was in love with Nykara. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, tried to shut out what I was thinking about both Abar and Rawer. After that I kept my head down, withdrew into myself. I tuned out the conversation. I picked at my food, not really hungry, burdened by sorrow, glancing often towards the distant grave where Great–grandmother lay. I was empty to the core of my being, knowing I’d never see her again. Eventually Dedi started telling stories about Great–grandmother’s childhood, things none of us had known, not even Uncle. I paid attention to those. Dedi made me laugh almost as much as he made me cry.
“Now I know who’s responsible for Amenia’s wild streak,” Uncle Hemaka said after Dedi told his final tale.
Great–grandmother and I had, apparently, been very much alike, I discovered that day. No wonder she’d loved me so much – I’d reminded her of herself. At sunset, before he and Nykara departed for the boatyard, Dedi embraced me a final time and kissed my brow and told me I looked exactly like Great–grandmother had at the same age and as long as I lived her image would still walk the earth. That set me to sobbing again.
I left the feast immediately afterwards. I turned down Nykara’s offer to see me to Uncle’s house. I needed to be alone with my thoughts, to grieve in private, to sort out the frightening future thrust upon me this day. I wasn’t the same woman I’d been when I’d awakened this morning and never would be again. I was halfway up the wadi path when Nekauba caught up to me. He stepped in front of me, blocked my way. He was scowling, angry, his eyes blazing in the last light of day.
“You should be ashamed, Amenia! Letting that boy put his hands all over you in front of our friends!”
“It’s no concern of yours, what Nykara and I do or don’t do,” I said wearily. “Let me pass.”
Nekauba spat. He pointed a finger at me. “It is my concern. You’re mine, Amenia, no matter what Father or Uncle say. You always have been. We grew up together. You’re going to be my woman.”
“Why, Nekauba?” I asked plaintively. “Why do you want me so much? To strengthen your future right to the pottery works?”
“Because I love you. I always have.”
“But I don’t love you, Nekauba. I never have and I never will. Can’t you just let me alone? Please?”
He snorted. “That boy will never have you, Amenia. I promise you that.” He grabbed hold of my left arm, hard.
I cried out, tried to jerk free.
“Let her go!”
I looked over my shoulder in the direction of the river. Nekauba tightened his grip on my arm. I recognized Rawer.
“I won’t tell you again,” Rawer said firmly.
Nekauba puffed up. “What I do with my woman is not your concern.”
Rawer laughed. “Hardly your woman. Especially not after today. Amenia is a priestess now. That means she’ll have her pick of the elites. No one can make her settle for a second–rate potter from the upper settlement. Especially not one as uncouth as you.”
“Watch your insults!” Nekauba spluttered.
“Or what?” Rawer asked unconcernedly. “If it was me, I’d be worrying right about now that the falcon god was going to strike me dead where I stood for assaulting his chosen one.”
Nekauba hastily released me. What a god might do hadn’t occurred to him. Or me, for that matter. There were a lot of things I was going to have to get used to in the days to come.
“Well, you just keep out of it, Rawer,” Nekauba blustered. “I know all about you – your women, your underhanded dealings. I could ruin you if I told Aboo your secrets.”
“I
have no secrets,” Rawer replied evenly. “Everything I do, I do out in the open. Now, run along like a good little boy before I get angry.”
Nekauba stared at him. He seemed to be assessing his chances if it came to a fight. From what I’d heard about Rawer’s viciousness, Nekauba wouldn’t last more than a minute or two. Even though he himself had a vicious streak.
“Don’t make me say it again,” Rawer said, his voice now clipped.
Nekauba snorted, spat impotently, then turned and headed up the path towards the upper settlement, gesturing and cursing as he went. I watched until he disappeared into the gathering darkness.
I turned to Rawer. “Thanks for stepping in,” I said. I purposefully avoided the word rescue. That would imply some kind of obligation on my part. “But I could have handled him. I have my whole life.”
“No doubt. A rather unpleasant little worm, if you ask me.”
“My cousin.”
“Thinks he has some right to you, from what I overheard?”
“We were promised to each other once. But not anymore.”
“Because you’re with Nykara.”
“Yes.” I was surprised Rawer was asking such personal questions. I supposed someone born to his station didn’t have to be circumspect with a commoner. “Why did you follow me?” I asked.
“I wanted to talk so we can get to know each other. Now that you’ve taken Ipu’s place, and since I’m Aboo’s heir, we’ll no doubt be seeing a lot of each other in the coming years.”
Sounded innocent enough, and I didn’t want to be rude. Even though there was an excellent chance he’d never succeed Aboo. I moved a little off the wadi path, to where several boulders clustered next to a grove of scraggly acacia trees. I perched on one and Rawer sat on one facing me.
“I love this view at this time of day,” I said, gazing east towards the river.
The sun had just dipped below the western plateau at my back and stars were already winking into the darkening eastern sky. The last vestiges of yellow and orange and red and gold were fading from the face of the eastern plateau, and the ribbon of river bisecting the valley was turning deep blue and purple. Campfires and hearth fires were flaring on in the lower settlement and on farms along the river and in Nekheb on its far side and in other hamlets both north and south. The moon wasn’t up yet; darkness was descending on the slope between me and the river like a blanket. Off to the right of the lower settlement a bonfire raged in the cemetery where Great–grandmother lay. The funeral feast would probably go on for several more hours.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Rawer said. “I knew Ipu, of course, from celebrating at festivals with her. I always liked her.”
“Thanks,” I replied. She’d never once mentioned him.
“It must be frightening, following after someone who’s served Nekhen for so long,” Rawer said, gazing at the talisman.
“It is,” I said truthfully. During the funeral and the feast that followed many in the crowd had looked at me differently than they ever had before. A few had gazed upon me reverently, as they always had Great–grandmother. The majority had eyed me uncertainly, not sure how to regard one so young who’d succeeded a woman who’d been an institution throughout the valley for generations. My friends and family members had been most uncertain of all. How could a simple girl they’d known all their lives suddenly be considered a god’s chosen one? I too was struggling with that question.
“If there’s any way I can help you – especially when you’re presiding at festivals and celebrations – just ask,” Rawer said. “We have that in common, or at least we will, since I’ll be succeeding Aboo someday.”
“I suppose that’s true.” Rawer’s reason for following me was suddenly crystal clear. He wasn’t trying to get to know me – he was trying to find out what I was going to do when it came time for me to confirm Nekhen’s next ruler.
“The succession seems pretty straightforward to me,” Rawer continued. “Dedi’s my grandfather, Abar is Aboo’s daughter and Dedi’s granddaughter, succession passes through Abar to whoever she joins with, and that’s going to be me.”
“A bit convoluted, but still straightforward,” I agreed. I wasn’t going to give away what Great–grandmother had discussed that time with Abar and me in the audience hall.
“Can you believe some of the elites are arguing succession doesn’t pass through a woman, that it’s irrelevant who joins with Abar?”
“That sounds desperate,” I said noncommittally. And untrue. They’ve embraced the concept, hoping one of them can become ruler by joining with either Abar or one of her sisters.
“Especially since those same elites would argue the opposite if Abar was joined to one of them.”
So he is aware of what’s going on. He’s as big a snake as Abar’s always claimed.
Rawer stood, began to pace. “Don’t be surprised if an elite tries to bribe you to pick him over me, Amenia. Some people will do anything to gain the power that goes with being Nekhen’s ruler.”
“Bribes would be useless,” I said. “It’s not for me to decide who’ll succeed Aboo. That’s up to the falcon god.”
“You wouldn’t accept a bribe, no matter what?” Rawer pressed.
“It’s like you told Nekauba – I’d be afraid the falcon god would strike me dead on the spot if I substituted my preference for his will.”
“How will you know his will?” Rawer probed. His voice was anxious now. Even in the dim light I could see a sheen of sweat on his forehead. He was not as sure of his position as heir as he was claiming to be.
“When the lines of descent are clear, the bearer of the talisman simply confirms the man who has inherited the right to rule. Otherwise, the falcon god sends the bearer a dream revealing who to choose. Or so I’ve been led to expect.”
I sensed Rawer’s relief. “Descent is clear in this instance. So I look forward to working alongside you for many years to come, Amenia, once Aboo dies and you confirm me as ruler.”
“This is hardly a day to speak of death,” I said sadly.
“Sorry. That was insensitive of me.” Rawer sat down on his boulder again. “One other thing. Nykara’s probably told you that when Dedi made him overseer of the fleet a few years ago I vowed to take it away from him someday.”
“That’s pretty well known throughout Nekhen,” I replied. “I’d heard it long before I met Nykara.”
“As I told Nekauba, I have no secrets.” Rawer shook his head, feigning disgust with himself. “I’d like to clear the air with you, knowing how you feel about Nykara. I was young and foolish and angry back then, Amenia. I didn’t stop to think before I blurted out the first thing that came to mind when Dedi took the fleet from me. But I’ve changed. I want you to know that.” He leaned towards me. “I want you to know if I’m confirmed as ruler Nykara will always have a place leading the fleet and boatyard and overseeing the craftsmen. I’ll need the fleet to operate perfectly and avoid chaos. I can’t think of anyone better.”
I was both amazed and appalled. Rawer’s flat out trying to bribe me, using Nykara! He just promised if I confirm him as ruler Nykara will get to keep the fleet. The corollary is if I don’t he’ll take it away from him. A clear threat. Well, I’ll play along and let him think he’s succeeding. “Nykara will be pleased to hear that, and Uncle Hemaka too,” I said. “Uncle has promised to let Nykara join with me once he’s named an elite. Your assurance Nykara will always get to operate the fleet will go a long way towards convincing Uncle that Nykara has a bright future.” That I’ve just seemingly linked my own future to Nykara’s, and the fleet, should convince Rawer I’m on his side. But, after his threat against Nykara, nothing could be farther from the truth.
“If your uncle needs more assurance I’ll talk to him, if you’d like,” Rawer offered.
“That’s not necessary.” I stood. “And now, I must get home.”
“Can I walk with you? In case Nekauba’s waiting beside the path?”
“By now he’s o
ff sulking somewhere. He won’t bother me. Anyway, it was nice to meet you, Rawer.”
“I’ll see you soon, Amenia.”
I watched until Rawer was swallowed up by the darkness, then turned towards home. No wonder so many women and girls in Nekhen had fallen under Rawer’s spell – they listened to his honeyed words and heard what they wanted to hear, not what he actually meant. How many misleading promises had he made them? There was something sinister inside Rawer, lurking, ready to pounce and assert his twisted will. I had no doubt at all that even if I confirmed him as Nekhen’s ruler he’d take the fleet away from Nykara within days. Luckily, Nykara would have the smithy to fall back on when he did. Had Rawer forgotten that, or was he so stupid he didn’t realize the growing importance of copper, and thus Nykara, in our settlement? I’d wager stupid. Rawer was really no different than Nekauba in that regard. Both were clueless. In Nekauba’s case, Uncle Hemaka was playing a high–stakes game and Nekauba wasn’t even important enough to be a piece on the board, though he hadn’t yet realized it. He’d never be more than a potter and I’d never be his woman. Especially now, when I was the falcon god’s priestess. I took a deep breath, pushed both Nekauba and Rawer from my mind. I turned my thoughts back to Great–grandmother, to the void within my heart, and the rest of the way home I walked with head bowed, surrendering in the darkness to my overwhelming grief.
***
I dreamed that night.
I was sitting next to Nykara atop a low ridge, watching the sun set, his body golden in the fading light. We were surrounded by a sea of tall waving green grass stretching in every direction all the way to the horizon, and water colored silver and yellow and orange and red. He was holding our newborn child in his arms.
The Women and the Boatman Page 36
