The Women and the Boatman

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The Women and the Boatman Page 63

by Mark Gajewski


  “Yes.”

  “Why didn’t you come to me for help?”

  “I couldn’t,” I said plaintively. “From the moment Ma–ee threatened me until the ceremony started Senebi kept me locked me away in Ma–ee’s house. He stood guard over me with half a dozen of his thugs. I couldn’t escape them and get to you. Believe me, I wanted to so desperately. But since I couldn’t I chose my daughter over you and Abar and everyone else. I’m sorry.”

  Nykara gazed at Keminub again, playing happily with her sister among several coils of rope. I shuddered to think how long it would take one of Nykara’s boatmen to untangle them. “Don’t be,” he said softly. “I would have made the same choice.”

  “Ma–ee’s turned out just like we expected – greedy and utterly ruthless,” I said bitterly. “Executing those poor helpless children was just the first step on his quest for ever more power. I still deeply regret I didn’t confirm Abar. I would have suffered for it, but my loss would have spared the people of Nekhen and the surrounding valley from Ma–ee’s excesses.”

  “This isn’t on you,” Nykara said. “Many others could have stopped him over the years and didn’t. Including me.”

  “So, will you help me?” I asked.

  “Yes. Of course.”

  “Thank you,” I said gratefully. “I should be going before Sanakht comes looking for me.” I started to rise.

  Nykara put his hand on my arm. I thrilled to his touch. “Not just yet. Please. It’s been so long. How are you, Amenia?”

  “Well enough.” There was no sense telling him the truth. It wouldn’t do either of us any good.

  “I’m glad you’re still making pottery.”

  “Thank you for arranging it. I know you did it for me. Sanakht’s constantly bragging about how he’s taking advantage of you, with the percentage of your cargo he receives in return.”

  “Your happiness is more important to me than profit.” Nykara gazed once again at my daughters, now sitting in the bow, heads close together, laughing. “Your girls are beautiful.”

  “They make my life worth living,” I said fervently. “I love them with all my heart. But they’re a horrible disappointment to their father. He wants sons. If he had it to do again he’d join me to Nekauba and take Kapes for himself.”

  “Sanakht doesn’t make you happy?”

  “He doesn’t even try, or care to,” I said. I didn’t attempt to keep the misery from my voice. Who else could I be myself with, if not Nykara? “I’m of no concern to him. As long as I keep his household running he mostly leaves me alone.” Except at night, but there was no point telling Nykara that. I was sure he’d figure that out on his own. Nor was their any point in telling him about the sisters Sanakht visited on the nights he took a break from me. “How about you?” I asked.

  “It took more than a year to straighten out the mess Ma–ee made of the fleet when he was still Rawer,” he said. “Now it operates as well as it did in Dedi’s time. True to his word, Ma–ee’s stayed out of my way since I took over – so far. I’ve designed and built five new boats these last years, and I’ve been on half a dozen expeditions.”

  “You got what you wanted, then,” I said.

  Nykara grasped my hand. “Not the most important thing. And I’d give it all up to have you right now, Amenia.”

  “How can you say that? After Sanakht’s spoiled me for you?” I tried to keep the despair from my voice, but couldn’t.

  “I love you, Amenia. Nothing will ever change that. Not Sanakht, not anyone else.”

  It would have been kinder if he’d said he’d stopped loving me. Then, perhaps, in time, I could give him up too. “You haven’t taken a woman?”

  “No.”

  “You should, Nykara,” I said, as much as it hurt me to say the words. “You have the right to be loved. You shouldn’t be alone for the rest of your life because of me. I’m trapped by Sanakht. I won’t let you be trapped by me, by what we might have had. We can’t have it, ever. You have my permission to move on, if that’s what’s holding you back.”

  “Amenia…”

  Just then my girls came running and threw themselves into my arms with loud cries. “I really should be going,” I said. “I need to weave some mats before I return home. Otherwise Sanakht will get suspicious.”

  Nykara helped all three of us from the boat. I looked back once as I headed towards my usual patch of reeds. He was still watching us. I was saddened by our parting, but comforted knowing we’d see each other again soon, and when we did we’d put a stop to Sanakht’s thievery. I almost hoped he’d refuse to quit. Nykara and I would be obliged to take him to Ma–ee then. Ma–ee would execute him. I’d be free and Nykara and I could be together at last. Perhaps Sanakht’s greed would actually turn out to be a blessing.

  ***

  Months passed without incident. I almost despaired of ever catching Sanakht desecrating graves again. But finally, on the first moonless night after a burial in the elite cemetery accompanied by more grave goods than usual, Sanakht crept from our pallet, doing his best not to disturb me. He stood over me for a long time. I assumed he was waiting to make sure I hadn’t awakened. I kept my breathing regular, feigned sleep. He finally slipped from the house. I quietly rose, hurriedly donned a skirt, followed him outside and through the upper settlement to the wadi path, keeping in the deep shadow beside the houses. He turned left, up the path towards the base of the plateau. I was certain he was rendezvousing there with his accomplice. I hurried in the opposite direction, towards the river, to the outcrop beside the path. All signs had pointed to this being a night Sanakht would steal, so as we had prearranged Nykara was waiting for me there.

  The stars were so bright it nearly hurt to look at them. I hoped Great–grandmother’s spirit hadn’t fallen from them when Sanakht stole her amulet and copper necklace and disturbed her body. The starlight softly lit the entire valley. Nykara was sitting in a shadowed cleft halfway up the outcrop. The cleft was actually two halves of a boulder, twice as tall as a man, split apart in antiquity. Long ago we’d discovered sickle–shaped boats and animals etched on each half, though it was too dark to see them tonight. The cleft had been our favorite spot to meet after everyone else in Nekhen was asleep in the years before I’d been joined to Sanakht. I recalled our kisses, our embraces. How I missed them! Maybe again, soon… I climbed to Nykara. “It’s happening,” I whispered. “Sanakht’s meeting his partner right now. They’re getting their tools from where they hide them at the base of the plateau.”

  A long lance was propped against the rock next to Nykara. He pulled a flint knife from his belt and showed it to me. Its serrated edge looked sharp and wicked. A shiver ran down my spine. An hour from now we’d either convince Sanakht and his accomplice to stop robbing graves or we’d march them before us to the lower settlement to face Ma–ee. In the latter case they’d likely be executed. That didn’t bother me. Sanakht had brought his fate on himself. That I might benefit from it seemed like justice for everything I’d suffered at his hands.

  Nykara put his fingers on my arm to caution me. He was staring up the wadi path. A moment later two figures passed by the base of the outcrop, barely distinguishable. I heard the clink of copper tools muffled by a leather sack, no doubt to dig with. We let them get far ahead and then we silently descended the outcrop and followed, careful not to give ourselves away.

  They were already digging when we reached the elite cemetery. Sanakht was on his knees, rapidly stabbing and scraping the ground with some instrument, grunting with the effort. The other man was standing watch, turning in a slow circle, occasionally bending over to check Sanakht’s progress. We crept as close as we dared, keeping a small funerary pavilion between us and them to mask our approach as long as possible. The grave they were robbing was a few steps beyond the pavilion on its far side. My heart was pounding so loudly I was afraid they’d hear it. Sweat began trickling down my back. We moved just behind the corner of the pavilion. Nykara drew his knife with his left ha
nd, then peered around the corner. He nodded to me, then stepped into the open and raised the lance in his right hand.

  “Don’t move!” Nykara commanded. “We want to talk.”

  Both men instantly bolted in opposite directions. With a cry Nykara hurled his lance after the lookout, but it missed. He wasn’t our primary target anyway. Nykara turned and sprinted after Sanakht. I followed, running as fast as I could, chasing the shadowy figures. Nykara was rapidly gaining ground on my man. He was half a foot taller, his legs were much longer, and he was more than a decade younger. Then I tripped over a grave mound and tumbled to the ground, bashing my toes on a rock, scraping my knees and elbows and the palms of my hands on the rough sand and dirt, ripping my skirt. I cried out. I scrambled to my feet just as Nykara tackled Sanakht from behind. By the time I limped close enough to make them out in the starlight they were rolling over and over in the dust, grappling, grunting, both with a knife in hand. Then Sanakht got on top of Nykara and stabbed downward with his knife. One of them cried out – I couldn’t tell who. Sanakht rolled off Nykara and onto his back. The two lay side by side, both gasping for breath. I dropped to my knees between them. Nykara was holding both hands over his stomach. Dark blood was seeping from beneath his fingers. I was instantly sick with terror.

  “Nykara!” I cried. If Sanakht had killed him…

  “You!” Sanakht exclaimed weakly.

  He’d recognized my voice. I turned my attention to him. Blood was trickling from a corner of his mouth. He had both hands around the hilt of a knife embedded in his gut. He groaned piteously.

  “You stole from Great–grandmother!” I accused, bending close. “We came here to talk you into stopping your thievery. You shouldn’t have run. We didn’t come here to kill you!”

  “Your lover did!” Sanakht spat through clenched teeth. Those were the last words he ever spoke to me.

  I turned away from Sanakht in disgust, peered closely at Nykara. Blood was flowing copiously from a slash across his chest and another across his stomach. “How badly are you hurt?” I asked, beginning to tremble. I had to be strong for Nykara, but I was scared.

  “Just cut. Not too deeply.”

  I helped him sit up. He grimaced. He was hurt far more than he was letting on. Likely he was trying to spare me.

  “We need to get out of here in case anyone heard the fight,” he gasped.

  “Not just yet.” I tore strips from the bottom of my skirt, made pads, pressed them against his wounds to stop the bleeding, tore more strips and wrapped them around his belly and chest to hold the pads in place, telling him all the while of the herbs he needed to make into a poultice once he reached the boatyard and how to apply it. I thanked the falcon god under my breath he’d made me a healer, given me the knowledge to save Nykara. As I worked on him the dream the falcon god had sent me rose before my eyes – Nykara and me, sitting with our child, watching the sun set over the delta. With Sanakht dead we were free to make that dream real now. We could leave Nekhen, start over, leave Ma–ee and Hemaka and pain and suffering and unhappiness far behind. The thought cheered me. By the time I finished bandaging Nykara there wasn’t much left of my skirt.

  “What should we do about Sanakht?” I asked.

  He lay on his back a few paces away with the knife protruding.

  “Leave him,” Nykara said harshly. “No one will care how Sanakht met his end. They’ll only care he was robbing a grave and got justice for it.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Look, Amenia. Ma–ee knows I love you.”

  I thrilled at the words.

  “He knows I know how Sanakht came to be your man – that Ma–ee was responsible for arranging it. If I admit to killing Sanakht, Ma–ee will claim I murdered him for revenge. He’ll execute me. The truth of what happened won’t matter. Ma–ee will take advantage of the chance to rid himself of me and everything I hold over him.”

  What do you hold over Ma–ee? There was no time to ask. I glanced again at Sanakht’s body. If only he hadn’t run. If only he’d let us talk some sense into him. But, deep down, I’d known he wouldn’t give up grave robbing voluntarily. Nykara and I would have been forced to take him to Ma–ee to stop him for good. Ma–ee would have executed him. And then I’d have been free to be with Nykara, as I always should have been. But by running Sanakht had put both Nykara and me in a compromising position. Even in death he was keeping us apart. “I wish you hadn’t killed Sanakht,” I told Nykara fervently. Maybe then everything would have turned out differently.

  I helped Nykara to his feet. He reeled dizzily for a moment, put an arm around my shoulders, steadied himself. He’d lost a considerable amount of blood. I wanted to wrap my arms around him, lay my head against his chest, wash away the blood with my tears, not just for tonight and almost losing him, but for all the days and nights we’d been separated. But he moved away from me. It was almost as if a wall had suddenly been raised between us.

  “I’m truly sorry for how things worked out, Amenia,” Nykara said. His eyes were avoiding mine for some reason. “Go home, and not by the wadi path. Make sure you’re not seen. I’m going back to the boatyard. I won’t be bothering you anymore after this.” He bent, pulled the knife from Sanakht’s body, wiped the blood off on Sanakht’s kilt, then abruptly turned and disappeared into the darkness.

  And then I knew. I’d asked Nykara to help me catch Sanakht. Because of me he’d been forced to kill this night. He hadn’t come to the cemetery to be an executioner – only to capture Sanakht and talk to him. Because of me, Nykara was now something he’d never intended to be. Because of me, if what had happened tonight ever became known, his life would be dependent on Ma–ee’s mercy, and Ma–ee was not a merciful man. I’d ruined everything for Nykara. I should have considered that before asking for his help. But I’d been too selfish, too wrapped up in getting justice for Great–grandmother. Now Nykara hated me. I’d lost Sanakht this night, which I didn’t mind. I had no idea what the future held for me and my girls, which was unsettling. But it was knowing I’d lost Nykara again, Keminub’s father, this time for good, that made me weep when I finally reached home and threw myself upon my pallet.

  ***

  A dozen of Ma–ee’s guards, led by Senebi, all heavily armed, burst into my house at midday. Both of my daughters screamed and ran to me at the hearth, where I was on my knees preparing our meal. I rose. They clung to my skirt. I gathered them to me protectively, addressed Senebi. “What’s the meaning of this?” Though I knew full well.

  “Your man, Sanakht, is dead,” Senebi informed me.

  He took my vacant stare as shock, I suppose, for I could summon no tears for my uncle. I’d shed all I had during the night for Nykara.

  “Dead?” I whispered, as if completely surprised.

  “He was robbing graves. Someone killed him.”

  “Killed? Robbing? Where? I don’t understand.”

  “The elite cemetery. I’ve come to find evidence.” He eyed my palms and elbows, newly scabbed over from my fall last night. “What happened to you?” he asked, obviously suspicious.

  “I was carrying pottery home from my kiln just after sunset. I tripped.” It was as reasonable a lie as any.

  Senebi pointed towards his men. “You two – take hold of Amenia. You two – get those squalling brats out of here. The rest of you get busy.”

  A couple of thugs grabbed my arms and roughly pinned my hands behind my back. Two brutes ripped my children from me. They both screamed in terror. Restrained, I couldn’t help them. The guards lifted my girls and carried them outside. Through the open entrance of the house I glimpsed pottery workers gathering in the yard, attracted by the commotion. I struggled fruitlessly against the thugs as the bulk of Senebi’s men began dumping the contents of every container and storage jar and wood chest in my house onto the floor. They ripped mats off walls, even smashed sealed jars of beer and our few pieces of furniture. I looked with despair at the growing pile of linen sheets and emmer and vegetables a
nd clothing and pottery and splintered wood, some of it now soaked with beer and filthy with dirt turned to mud. I was going to have to replace every single item belonging to me and my girls. How would I do that?

  Uncle Hemaka entered, took one look at the mess. “What are you doing, Senebi?” he cried.

  “Your brother was killed robbing a grave last night,” Senebi said smugly. “We’ve come to find any goods he’s stolen in the past and hidden away.”

  “That’s outrageous!” Uncle roared. “Do you have proof he was a thief? Did you catch him in the act?”

  “We found his body, stabbed in the gut, bled out. There were signs of a struggle. Not far away was an open grave and a bunch of tools he’d been digging with. He and an accomplice.”

  “Who killed him?” Uncle Hemaka demanded.

  “If I had to guess, I’d say he and his accomplice argued about something they found in the grave. They fought. Sanakht lost.”

  A thug smashed a jar of beer so near the liquid splashed on Uncle Hemaka.

  “Just wait until I tell Ma–ee what you’re doing! I’ll have your place then, Senebi, like he promised me. I’ll be his counselor, not you.”

  Always trying to turn a situation to your advantage, Uncle.

  Senebi laughed. “Ma–ee sent me. I’m following his orders. Besides, you don’t have what it takes to do what I do for our ruler. You’ve risen as high as you’re going to, Potter, much higher than you deserve. Best be content with what Ma–ee’s already given you. Never forget – he can take it away in an instant.” Senebi snapped his fingers. “Fires have a way of getting out of control when you’re making pottery. Or so I’ve heard.”

  Uncle was furious, but impotent. He angrily righted a stool one of the men had kicked over, sat on it next to one of the walls.

  “Nothing,” one of the thugs reported when everything had been overturned or emptied or destroyed.

 

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