“When did this happen?” Dagi asked, looking from Nykara to me.
“A couple of weeks ago,” Nykara said. “It was very sudden. Yet very long in coming. And, I think Bakist would say, very romantic. I’m still as surprised as you look.”
Dagi laughed. “I remember the romance part, from when I was joined.”
“I’m planning to stay here for a few days so my crew can rest before we head for home. The supply boat pulled in the same time we did. The men are down by the river making camp. They’ll start bringing trade goods up from the landing at first light.”
“I’ll send word to my assistants. They’ve all gone home for the day.”
“Each of my traders has three assistants from Nekhen or one of the nearby hamlets,” Nykara told me.
“To help the trader, and join with local women to subtly convert the natives to be more like Nekhenians,” I said. “I remember.”
“You’ll stay with us, of course,” Dagi said.
He led us from the trading post to a modest house next door, constructed in similar fashion. As we stepped through the entrance two children – the girl looked to be about seven years old, the boy five – launched themselves at Dagi with wild cries. He scooped them both up in his arms. A woman on her knees before a hearth at the back of the structure turned, rose, smoothed her hair and then her skirt with both hands.
“This is my woman, Tamerit,” Dagi said as she joined us. “Her father, Minkhaf, is Tjeni’s most influential trader. Tamerit, this is Bakist – Nykara’s woman.”
Tamerit greeted me, looking pleasantly surprised but not shocked. Since she was from Tjeni she probably wasn’t acquainted with Amenia. She might never have heard of her.
“My father’s a trader too,” I told her. “He’s the most influential in Maadi.”
“Welcome to my home, Bakist. Please. Sit. You must be tired from your trip. I’ll pour some beer for all of you.”
I downed mine gratefully. The day had been hot and I’d spent most of it in the stern beside Nykara, questioning him about the valley as we passed through, even steering a little myself, for he’d been teaching me the whole trip. I’d traveled widely in the delta and the lands along the coast; the southern valley was a new experience for me and I wanted to learn as much as I could about every aspect of it. I glanced around the house. It contained furniture as fine as my father’s. Its walls were hung with beautifully–woven mats, and a plethora of pottery storage jars I recognized as Amenia’s lined the food preparation area. Many amulets and ivory figurines were scattered around the room – the falcon god and a goddess Nykara had told me was called Bat predominated. Dagi was clearly raising his children to worship Nekhen’s gods.
“My father is one of Nykara’s craftsmen,” Dagi told me. “I grew up learning to knap flint in his workshop.”
“Did you make these figurines yourself?” I asked.
“I did.”
“Beautiful workmanship.”
“Thank you.”
“We’ve known each other since we were five years old,” Nykara interjected.
“A few years ago Nykara showed up in Father’s workshop along with Abar and asked me if I’d like to become a trader. Didn’t take much to convince me.”
“Dagi’s younger sister, Tentopet, was the wetnurse for Abar’s children,” Nykara said. “Even though they’re past that stage, she still lives in Aboo’s house and helps Abar take care of them. She and Abar are very close. Tentopet’s practically the only other woman Abar sees on a regular basis. Ma–ee shuts her off from all other companions.”
“Tentopet’s given birth to three sons of her own, all stillborn,” Dagi said. “The first was a few days before Abar’s son, Shery, was born. That’s why Ma–ee – Rawer at the time – picked her as wetnurse. Plenty of milk for a hungry boy.”
“I’m sorry. About Tentopet’s children,” I said.
“Tentopet has been passing messages back and forth between Abar and me for years,” Nykara confided. “She’s done it right under Ma–ee’s and Senebi’s noses. To this day I don’t think they realize she’s Dagi’s sister. They don’t suspect her of disloyalty to Ma–ee because her man is one of Senebi’s thugs. Their joining was arranged without her say. Without Tentopet, Abar would have little idea what’s going on in Nekhen and the valley.”
We ate hungrily of the repast Tamerit laid out for us. From the variety of victuals it was clear Dagi was a very successful trader.
“The crops look as poor here as they do at Nekhen,” Nykara observed.
“Luckily, there are far fewer people to feed at Tjeni,” Dagi said. “What’s stored in the granaries should last several years, just in case there’s a second inadequate inundation in a row.”
“Do the Tjenians blame their ruler for the poor flood?” I asked. “Nykara told me Nekhenians expect their ruler to deliver enough water to grow their crops each year.”
“My father’s role is different than Ma–ee’s,” Tamerit said.
“He’s really just first among the leading men,” Dagi explained. “No one believes he has the power to control nature, so he’s not held responsible for things like that.”
“Is that why Tjeni doesn’t have a fleet to use for trade, because the elites aren’t strong?”
“Great enterprises haven’t developed here yet,” Dagi explained. “People do more for themselves and rely less on others than in Nekhen. Plus, there aren’t dozens of hamlets in the area looking to Tjeni for leadership, like at Nekhen. The only somewhat large hamlet is Abdju, half a day or so from here. And Hiw, a small settlement, a day farther.”
“How has trade been lately?” Nykara asked Dagi as the last of the fruit and bread and meat and vegetables disappeared from the platters and bowls.
“Quite good. Several caravans have arrived in the past two months from the oases in the west. The oases obviously aren’t affected by the poor flood, so they still have excess foodstuffs to trade. My post is nearly overflowing with what they’ve brought. I wish I still had Amenia’s pottery to trade. Then I’d be able to outbid the locals and obtain even more of their goods.” Dagi suddenly colored. His mention of Amenia had been automatic. Now he probably assumed he’d spoken out of turn.
“Bakist knows all about Amenia,” Nykara assured him.
I nodded. “You don’t have to tread carefully, Dagi.”
“Have you figured out where Amenia is yet?” Dagi asked Nykara, looking relieved.
Nykara shrugged. “For all I know she’s gone to one of the western oases, or maybe even to the eastern sea. She hasn’t been seen in Nekhen for a year, since the day Ma–ee burned Sanakht’s body in the oval court.”
“That’s too bad,” Dagi said. “Some of the local women have tried to mimic all three of her styles, but we don’t have the same type of clay as at Nekhen. And the decoration lacks the spirit Amenia’s had.”
“How does Tjeni fit into the unified region Abar and the rest of you are pursuing?” I asked.
“It’s the key,” Nykara replied. “Tjeni controls trade with the North and West.”
“This is where overland trade routes from south of the cataract and the western oases converge on the river,” Dagi explained. “Tjeni controls those oases’ products. Another caravan track cuts south from here across the great bend in the river, directly to Nubt. That’s how Tjeni and Nubt traded with each other before Nekhen started sending boats north.”
“Nubt controls access to the eastern desert’s gold mines through a wadi reaching to the eastern sea,” Nykara continued. “That wadi’s the only source of the mudstone I carry to Maadi whenever I come.”
“I mentioned Abdju. It’s much smaller than Tjeni, a hamlet really,” Dagi said. “Traders from there come to my trading post to obtain what they need. Interestingly, when Tjeni’s leading men die they’re buried at Abdju. There’s a local belief the entrance to the Afterlife lies in the hills to Abdju’s west.”
“They don’t believe spirits go to rest in the sky, like Nek
henians do?” I asked.
“No.”
“So, to answer your question, Bakist, when Abar’s unified southern region becomes a reality, trade expeditions to Maadi and the delta and the coast of the Wadjet Wer will be launched from Tjeni. And when Nekhen’s ruler decides to unify the entire valley from the cataract to the Wadjet Wer, he’ll move north from Tjeni.”
Dagi indicated his children. “Not in my lifetime, or my children’s, or even theirs. But my children, and my assistants’, and Pabasa’s in Nubt, are surely the start.”
***
Just over a month after leaving Maadi, Nykara steered our boat towards the landing place in Nekhen. His expedition to Maadi had been successful in more ways than one, in my opinion. The boat carried enough copper ingots to keep his smithy humming for many months, and raw materials for every one of his craftsmen, and fine items to trade in Nekhen and the nearby hamlets. It was nearly sunset and shadows had already crept across most of the valley, except for the eastern bluffs, which were still golden in the fading light. Nykara aimed for a mooring place in the midst of several vessels. I counted half a dozen large boats and twice that many smaller, many of them made of reeds, swaying with the current.
We were spotted. Glad shouts rose from men swarming towards the landing place from the boatyard and smithy, along with women and children from huts where I assumed Nykara’s dependents lived.
I was standing next to Nykara in the stern, my long red hair swirling in the breeze and brushing his chest and shoulder. “I had no idea you had so many boats.”
“I designed every one of them,” he said proudly. He pointed. “See those piles of wood to the right? That’s where we’re assembling my newest. It’ll be half again as large as this one. See all those reed boats pulled up on the shore to their left? Those belong to fishermen. We’re repairing them. Those columns of smoke are from my smithy. Those huts on the higher ground are where my workers live – boatmen, craftsmen, metalsmiths. Those two large huts, even farther up the slope, out of reach of the inundation, are where I store my trade goods.”
“You must support more than a hundred people,” I said, scanning the waiting crowd.
“About right. Now, let me tell you about your new home.” He pointed. “The cultivated strip starts just past the boatyard. It stretches a mile or so north and south of Nekhen along the river. The farmers who live on it directly support the workers who live in Nekhen proper. Nekhen’s lower settlement sprawls along the western edge of the fields. See the pole with the copper falcon? That marks the oval court, our ceremonial grounds, where we honor the gods. Ma–ee’s house and audience hall is nearby. The lower settlement is actually a series of neighborhoods – potters live together, wood workers, herdsmen, brewers. A wide path winds up the wadi slope to the upper settlement, which lies on a terrace at the base of the plateau in the west. Mostly potters and stone workers live up there, and the men who process meat and fish.”
“The wall and the buildings visible above it are the ruler’s cemetery you told me about?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve never seen a settlement this large. I’ve never seen so many people in one place at one time,” I said.
“Around five thousand or so. But wait until the next festival, when everyone in the valley assembles. That’s probably four thousand more.” He squeezed my hand. “I’ll give you a day or so to get settled in, and then we’ll go exploring. There’s a lot to see, both here and in the nearby valley. I can’t wait to show you.”
We touched shore and eager hands secured our vessel to the mooring posts. Nykara’s crewmen set the gangplank in place and then rushed down to embrace their women and children.
Nykara took his time and helped me down the gangplank after everyone else had disembarked. He must have noticed I was trembling, but he didn’t say anything. I’d never been so nervous my entire life. My heart was pounding like a drum. Everyone in Nekhen had known of Nykara’s and Amenia’s love. Now here I was, a complete stranger, bursting on the scene without any warning as Nykara’s woman. Everyone was going to be curious about me. Would they accept me, as Dagi had back in Tjeni? There were so many people for me to worry about – not only the families of Nykara’s workmen, but the elites as well. Nykara had spent a great deal of time telling me about each and every one of them during our journey. They were part of his world too. Thank the gods I’d spent most of my life dealing with traders, figuring out ways to make them like me, turning strangers into friends, quickly earning trust. Those skills would likely serve me in good stead in the months to come. I took a deep breath, willed my heart to slow.
Nykara indicated three men waiting together not far from the riverbank on the far side of the milling crewmen and their families. “My overseers,” he said.
We passed through the crowd in their direction, our progress slowed because almost everyone wanted to greet Nykara and get a look at me. They had no idea what to make of me, or why I was with Nykara. The overseers regarded me with curiosity too.
I recognized Heth, even though I hadn’t seen him in a decade. He was no longer a boy, grown into his frame, very muscled from his work with copper. He searched my face, recognizing me but unable to place me.
“You remember Bakist,” Nykara said. “She was only twelve years old when you left Maadi and came to Nekhen with me.”
Heth snapped his fingers. “Of course! Nabaru’s daughter. You’re a long way from home.”
“I am home,” I corrected.
Heth looked puzzled.
“Bakist is my woman now,” Nykara said. He laughed out loud at Heth’s exclamation of surprise.
“You’re certainly no girl anymore,” Heth told me. He clapped Nykara on the back. “Best thing you’ve ever brought back from Maadi.”
“Including you. And the load of copper ingots that needs to be unloaded from my boat.”
Heth rubbed his hands gleefully. “I’ll see to it straightaway. Welcome, Bakist,” he added. “I hope you come to like living here at Nekhen as much as I have.”
I looked at Nykara and smiled. “I already do.”
“See to the unloading, won’t you?” Nykara asked the overseer of his boatyard. “Put all the raw materials on the bank tonight and the finished items in the storehouse. I’ll help you sort everything out tomorrow. But right now I’m exhausted. I’m going home.”
His wattle–and–daub hut was close to the boatyard. A fire was burning in the ring of stones just outside its entrance.
“A daughter of one of the boatmen looks after my hut,” Nykara explained.
He led me inside. Linen wicks floating in half a dozen bowls of oil cast warm flickering light on the walls. The girl had been busy inside too. Nykara let down the reed mat tied to the lintel, diminishing slightly the noise from the landing place where everyone was still gathered, looking over what we’d brought back. “It’s not much,” he said apologetically. “Especially not compared to your father’s fine house.”
Nykara clearly lived a simple life. There were worn reed mats on the floor, a few on the walls for color, a few wood chests full of clothing along each side of the hut. Foodstuffs and jars of beer and wine were at the back, stored in a collection of fine decorated pottery, Amenia’s. A simple bed – a wood frame with a thick mattress of rushes laid over a rope lattice – was along one wall, covered with linen sheets.
“I didn’t come to Nekhen hoping to live in a fine house,” I said. “I came to be with you. Besides, what could be more wonderful than sitting outside by the fire at night, watching the river flow past and the stars wheel across the sky?”
“Nonetheless, I’ll take you to my storage hut tomorrow and you can pick out whatever you want to decorate this place or make your life easier,” Nykara said. “I’ll even get started building you a large house if you want.”
“Someday,” I said. My face grew hot. “When there are more of us.”
He took my meaning. His face flushed too.
“The pottery – Amenia made it?”
I asked, indicating the storage area. It was in all three styles, decorated mostly with boats and river scenes.
“Yes. I commissioned it years ago.”
“It’s beautiful.” I moved to the side of the room, bent, stroked the sheet atop the bed. I half–turned, gazed at Nykara. “This looks like a fine sturdy bed.”
“It’s taken my weight well for many years,” he said. “It’s never held two before… I assume it will.”
“Well, then. Perhaps we should make sure.”
***
Bowls and platters of fruit and meat and bread were waiting beside the campfire when we arose at dawn. The boatman’s girl had been up early. We ate leisurely, watched the river flow past, listened to the sounds and observed the bustle as the boatyard and smithy and huts of Nykara’s workers came to life around us.
“You look extraordinarily beautiful in this light,” Nykara told me.
I leaned over and kissed him. My long red hair tumbled over my shoulders. I’d darkly outlined my eyes with malachite. My skirt was of white linen and I wore a girdle and necklace and anklets and bracelets of carnelian. I wanted to make a good impression today.
“I’m going to call on my supervisors and take a look around, see how everything’s fared in my absence,” Nykara said. “I’ll point you towards the storage hut and you can take whatever you want for our hut and yourself while I’m occupied. One of my workmen will carry everything back for you.”
“Nonsense. I’m going with you,” I replied. “I want to learn everything there is to know about your operation.”
The Women and the Boatman Page 66
