The brewery consisted of three sections. The vats in the central portion were surrounded by a short wall of mud and pottery sherds coated with enough thick mud plaster to resist direct flame and high heat. Smaller walled annexes with more vats were attached to its north and south. The brewery was roofed to contain heat. The bases of its outer walls were pierced at regular intervals by narrow openings – stoke holes was the correct term, I recalled – through which workmen could feed wood into the fires beneath the vats inside. Large pottery sherds were stacked next to each stoke hole; workmen used them during the brewing process to close the openings to regulate air flow.
Dedi led us towards Pipi’s residence. I, a common laborer, had no business in the upcoming meeting so I’d have to wait outside, though Rawer could enter because he was Dedi’s grandson and Aboo’s heir. But I wasn’t the only one who spotted Abar in the preparation area, working in the shade of a large rectangular sunscreen along with her cousins Wenher and Inetkawes. Rawer made a beeline for her. Dedi gazed after his grandson, then shook his head in exasperation. “Keep Rawer out of trouble,” he charged, then continued on to Pipi’s house alone.
I followed after Rawer reluctantly, resigned to encountering Abar, hoping Dedi would be quick. Abar always had something disparaging to say, except for when she ignored me. I’d gone out of my way to avoid her in the months since Mother’s death so I wouldn’t have to listen to her scathing comments; whenever I’d spotted her approaching Dedi’s fire I’d left and spent the evening elsewhere. Today, unfortunately, there was no escaping her. Abar was sitting cross–legged on a reed mat, her fine white linen skirt barely covering her knees, cutting dates into bits with a sharp serrated flint knife and dropping the pieces into a basket in front of her. Rawer immediately sat down to her left and placed one hand familiarly on her upper arm. He treated her possessively whenever they were together in public. From the conversation I’d overheard on the riverbank I knew her acceptance of his attentions was the price she’d agreed to so he’d give up elite girls. I wondered how Abar would react if she found out Rawer dallied now with commoners instead.
Abar’s second cousin Wenher, dark–haired, attractive, my age, was seated to her right, engaged in the same task. Wenher put down her knife and greeted Rawer, as did her year–younger sister, Inetkawes. Five years ago Inetkawes had stumbled and fallen and hit her head on a large rock beside the wadi path, fracturing her skull, and she’d never been quite the same since. She moved awkwardly, dragged her right foot when she walked, sometimes mixed up her words and spoke gibberish, often stared vacantly into space for minutes at a time. More than once I’d brought her home when I’d found her aimlessly wandering along the riverbank. She liked me and I liked her and she recognized me and beamed.
I smiled back, then, almost in spite of myself, took a closer, surreptitious look at Abar. She was absolutely stunning – petite, her figure well–rounded, features delicate, neck and wrists and waist bedecked with jewels. How a body so tiny could contain so much vitriol was beyond me. I’d never seen a girl as beautiful – at least on the outside – not even those who were far older. Her bearing was regal, and why not? Since someday Rawer would join with her and succeed her father as Nekhen’s ruler, assuming no as yet unborn half–brother appeared, Abar expected to spend the majority of her life as a ruler’s woman and acted accordingly. I knew from years of observation Abar was extremely intelligent and quick–witted and inquisitive, the polar opposite of Rawer. She was also, unfortunately for those who crossed her, vindictive when she didn’t get her way and vengeful when she felt she’d been wronged, as I could personally attest. Right now, Rawer was leaning against her, whispering something in her ear. She wasn’t reacting.
I sat next to Inetkawes, on the side distant from Rawer and Abar and Wenher, as far from the first two as I could get.
Inetkawes welcomed me cheerfully.
Abar peered around her cousins, stared at me haughtily. “What are you doing here?” From the tone of her voice she meant “why are you intruding among your betters?”
She was like all elites. They considered themselves superior to my kind. I didn’t take it personally because I didn’t care what they thought. I was happy being a boatman. I planned to be one the rest of my life. I respected people who worked hard, as I did, whatever their station in life. Otherwise, I didn’t give them a second thought.
Before I could answer Inetkawes replied. “Nykara’s my friend, Abar. He saved my life last year.”
“Really?” Abar asked skeptically.
“I was having one of my spells. I nearly wandered into a dozen crocodiles sunning on the riverbank. Nykara rescued me. Otherwise I’d be dead.”
“You’re exaggerating,” I admonished Inetkawes modestly, even though she wasn’t. “I just happened to be close by, working on a boat.”
“And saw she was in danger in the nick of time, and sprinted fifty yards faster than I’ve ever seen anyone run, and snatched her up in your arms just before she took a step too far,” Wenher interrupted. “You forget I saw the whole thing, Nykara. You were magnificent!”
Wenher was magnificent too. With Abar promised to Rawer, she was the most eligible and sought after elite girl. Well beyond my class. A shame, really. Unlike Abar, she was actually nice.
“Grandfather needed someone to carry some worn oars to the carpenters,” Rawer said dismissively. “Otherwise Nykara wouldn’t be bothering us.” He addressed me. “Go back to the boatyard. You’re not needed any longer.”
“Dedi told me to keep an eye on you. I’m not going anywhere,” I told Rawer firmly.
“Why you…”
Abar looked me up and down appraisingly. She laughed mirthlessly. “So, you’re a nursemaid too?”
She was trying to trivialize and aggravate me. I didn’t respond. That was the best thing to do around those of high status. They had no tolerance for commoners. They expected someone like me to be intimidated by them, to know his place, to give them unquestioning respect and obedience. I supposed I should be intimidated by Abar. She was the daughter of our ruler. She’d most likely be our next ruler’s woman. There was no higher ranked female in Nekhen with the exception of her stepmother or perhaps Ipu. But to be intimidated required one to be afraid, and I didn’t fear Abar. She was better than me in her mind, not mine.
Abar turned to Rawer. “What are you and Grandfather doing at Pipi’s brewery if you came to the lower settlement to get oars repaired?”
“Grandfather’s going to Abu. He’s arranging beer to take along for his men.”
“Father’s beer is the best in Nekhen,” Inetkawes said proudly.
“I’m sure it’ll taste better than any we’ll encounter along the way,” I volunteered.
“He’s going with you?” Abar asked Rawer incredulously.
“I’m not going,” Rawer snorted. “I talked Grandfather out of it. He’s only taking the big dumb brutes who work in the boatyard, to row.”
If Rawer hadn’t been who he was I would have decked him for disparaging the rest of my fellows. But I had as little respect for him as he had for me. I didn’t care enough about his opinion to be personally offended. I doubted Rawer even considered he might have. His superior and condescending attitude was one of the reasons everyone in the boatyard hated him.
Abar laughed. Her smile was dazzling, her teeth white, lips full, eyes dark. “Will you big dumb brutes be gone long?”
“Be nice, Abar!” Wenher admonished.
I was offended by Abar’s insult. She knew I was intelligent. I didn’t give her the satisfaction of showing my irritation. “A couple of weeks at least.”
“When will you leave?”
“In a few days.”
“You’ll miss the festival,” Inetkawes pouted.
“That’s why I turned down the chance to go,” Rawer interjected.
A lie, but he knew I wouldn’t call him on it.
“I’ll miss watching you in the competitions, Nykara,” Wenher purred. “I al
ways cheer for you.” She addressed Rawer. “Maybe you’ll finally win for a change.”
He cursed under his breath.
I hid my smile. “I’ll get to see the valley, all the way to Abu,” I told the sisters. “It’s a rare opportunity.”
“Who cares about anything beyond Nekhen?” Rawer asked. “Don’t we have everything we need right here?” He took hold of Abar’s elbow and smiled at her knowingly.
“I care,” Abar replied, snatching her arm away, “and so should you, Rawer. You know Grandfather’s relying on the two of us to keep his dream alive after he’s dead, to use your boats and my donkeys to expand Nekhen’s influence in the valley and form a union with the settlements between here and Tjeni. When we’re ruling Nekhen we’ll need to know what resources lie in every direction, what peoples we may have to overcome to make our settlement even greater.”
“That’s Grandfather’s dream, not mine or your father’s,” Rawer immediately snapped. “We both tell Grandfather what he wants to hear when he asks, that we’ll pursue it. Once he’s dead we’ll do what we want. Which isn’t that.”
Abar tensed, stunned by Rawer’s pronouncement. Her cheeks instantly colored. “You’re not committed to Grandfather’s dream?” she asked in a clipped voice.
“It got my father killed, so, no. Your father shies away from it for the same reason. I don’t care what happens in the rest of the valley. I care about what happens in Nekhen. Once I take Uncle’s place I’m going to make myself the most powerful ruler Nekhen has ever known. All the elites who are claiming they have a better right than me to succeed your father and are threatening to sweep me aside? They’ll no longer have a say in anything once I’m in charge. I’ll take control of far more than Grandfather ever did. I’ll make it clear to the elites they depend entirely on me – not me on them. I’ll use Grandfather’s craftsmen to make sure I live in luxury, and to reward my friends. I’ll demand the best of what farmers grow and everyone else produces, to support me and my dependents. I’ll most assuredly punish my enemies. And I’ll accumulate the largest menagerie Nekhen has ever seen, far larger than your father’s. That’ll show everyone I’ve imposed my will on the chaos of the world around us.”
“You expect all of us to center our lives around you?” Wenher asked, clearly shocked. “You expect us to keep you in luxury? Nekhen’s ruler is supposed to look out for the elites.”
“That’s your opinion,” Rawer said smugly.
“You can’t abandon what Grandfather’s started,” Abar insisted earnestly. “You can’t simply look inward and spend your time increasing your own power. You have to focus outward, push Nekhen’s influence into the valley. Otherwise, we’ll never be able to form the union Grandfather envisions.”
“I can and will focus inward. In fact, there’ll be no more trade expeditions once I’m in charge,” Rawer sniffed. “Traders from other settlements will have to come to us. Let them build their own boats! Fewer boatmen for me to support. As far as Grandfather’s craftsmen – I’ll use what they create to reward the elites in Nekhen who support me. And to reward myself. I won’t send fine objects to distant settlements where they’ll do me no good.”
I was appalled. Rawer fundamentally misunderstood both trade and Dedi’s expectation of his future role. Instead of pursuing Dedi’s dream to expand Nekhen’s influence, Rawer was going to purposefully reduce Nekhen’s presence in the valley. As his predecessors had done for the past half millennium. Rawer was going to slam shut the door Dedi had pried open.
“Where do you think the raw materials the craftsmen will need to keep you in luxury are going to come from?” Abar pressed.
“I just said they’ll be brought to us,” Rawer said harshly.
I couldn’t remain silent in the face of Rawer’s utter stupidity, even if it meant stepping into the middle of an argument between him and Abar. She was as likely to attack me as he was. “It’s in our interest to carry goods to and from other settlements, Rawer. If we drive Nubt and Tjeni to construct their own boats they won’t need us to obtain luxuries anymore. They’ll be able to travel the river as freely as we do. They’ll be able to cut us off from the riches that supposedly lie in the North. They’ll isolate Nekhen from the rest of the valley. Dedi explained this to us the day he yielded rule. Like Abar said, if you cede trade to Tjeni and Nubt you’ll destroy any chance of creating the union of settlements in the southern valley Dedi gave up his position as ruler to set in motion.”
“If I want your opinion, Errand Boy, I’ll ask for it,” Rawer snarled. “So shut up!”
I wasn’t about to obey him. Nekhen’s future was too important. “For the past five hundred years Nekhen’s ruler has received the fealty of all the leading men in the hamlets throughout this region. That’s why we’ve grown into a mighty settlement. But we’re not the only large settlement anymore, Rawer. Tjeni and Nubt have grown as well, though they still can’t compare in size and influence to us. Before they do, we must expand our own sphere of influence to keep them from expanding theirs.”
“Don’t you remember Grandfather’s story about our ancestress, a woman born somewhere in the western desert?” Abar asked Rawer. “She traveled to the delta, 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 a hundred 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. But it’s up to us to make Nekhen’s culture the dominant one in this mix. It’s up to us to make sure the people in Tjeni and Nubt and Hiw and Inerty and their satellites worship our gods, follow our customs, adopt our way of life. That’s how we’ll become even mightier, and control not only our own destiny but the entire southern section of the river valley.”
Abar’s was a more refined and expansive vision than Dedi’s. She’d clearly been giving his dream some thought in the year since her father had become our ruler. “How can we transplant our culture the way you propose if Rawer does what he’s threatening?” I queried.
“Ah! You recognize the difference between Grandfather’s vision and mine,” Abar said, clearly surprised I’d understood.
“It’s obvious and substantial.”
“With luck Rawer will grow up and embrace Grandfather’s dream,” Abar said.
“Our cousin? Grow up?” Wenher laughed.
Rawer glared at her.
Abar addressed me. “When Grandfather and Uncle Shery reestablished trade in the North they took a boatload of goods to the various settlements one or two times a year and then came home. Minimal contact.”
“With no lasting influence.”
“Exactly. But what if Grandfather were to establish permanent trading posts run by men from Nekhen in the major settlements, Nubt and Tjeni?”
“That would give Nekhen a continuous presence.”
“Grandfather could fill the posts with our finest products. Our permanent traders could exchange goods with the locals year round.”
“Boats would merely transport goods in both directions. No more expeditions.”
Abar nodded. “Our traders should be high–ranking, perhaps the younger sons of elites who won’t inherit anything from their fathers, men who’ll fit in with Tjeni’s and Nubt’s elites. Here’s the important part – they should join with high–ranking women from Tjeni and Nubt and raise their children the same way we raise ours. Over generations, our culture and gods and way of life will spread among the elites and then be adopted by commoners and become engrained in those settlements. We’ll transform them to be like us from within, without them even realizing it. Then acknowledging Nekhen’s ruler will seem a natural thing to do.”
“Assuming your father lives a long life, our culture will have taken root in Nubt and Tjeni by the time Rawer comes to power,” I said.
“Absolutely ridiculous,” Rawer muttered.
“You won’t be able to stop what Grandfather and I have set in motion,” Abar said with satisfaction. “Especially if you’re not Nekhen’s ruler. Ibetina’s young – Father may well have a son to displace you. Then you’ll have no say in anything.”
“Not going to happen,” Rawer said firmly.
I recalled his conversation with Abar on the riverbank. Rawer believed Aboo would be dead before his unborn son was old enough to rule, leaving Rawer the only choice to succeed him. But Rawer’s machinations weren’t my concern. “Astounding plan,” I said admiringly. Abar’s vision implied subtly transforming the other settlements over a long period of time. The exact opposite of Rawer’s plan for Nekhen, which was entirely inward looking. I preferred Abar’s plan, especially because boatmen would constantly travel the river, which is how I wanted to spend my life.
“Enough of this! Both of you!” Rawer insisted sharply. “I’ve already warned you to keep your mouth shut, Errand Boy. And you’ve had your say, Abar. What’s more, I’m fed up with you talking like the two of us are going to share rule. I don’t want to hear it from you ever again! You’ll have no say in what happens in Nekhen once we’re joined. Ruling is my birthright because I’m Dedi’s grandson. You strengthen my right because you’re Aboo’s daughter and Dedi’s granddaughter. Once I rule Nekhen you’re going to give me heirs and sit next to me at festivals and keep your mouth shut and look pretty and make me the envy of every man in the valley. That’s all. I’ll control Grandfather’s boats and Aboo’s donkeys then. All power will be mine. Why Uncle lets you be involved in the herd at all is beyond me.”
“Because I do a better job than his overseer,” Abar snapped angrily. “I could do a better job than you with the boats, too – right now.”
“Nonetheless, that will cease. You’re a beautiful woman, Abar. You will be an adornment for me when I preside at festivals or go about Nekhen, just like my necklaces of gold and shiny stones. Nothing more.”
Abar stiffened. She tilted her chin proudly, made no reply. But her blazing eyes spoke volumes. Rawer had just ripped asunder the fabric of their fragile relationship, not only because he’d been lying about his support for Dedi’s quest, but because he expected Abar to meekly submit to his will and no longer exercise her considerable talents once they were joined. That was not in her character. That was directly contrary to the ambition she’d expressed to me the night of the executions, to firmly guide Rawer as he ruled Nekhen and operated the fleet. I’d had the sense then she expected him to be her figurehead; today hadn’t changed my opinion. I applauded the conflict that had suddenly raised a wall between them. That they were unexpectedly at each other’s throats seemed like justice for how they’d both treated me. Except Rawer was dead wrong about Nekhen’s future and Abar was absolutely correct and he was positioned to implement his point of view. Unless Ibetina produced a son.
The Women and the Boatman Page 11