“As you can imagine, Rawer fell all over himself embracing the idea,” Abar continued. “He pointed out he’s going to rule Nekhen. He pointed out he’s more qualified than you to operate the fleet. He demanded once Grandfather returns from Maadi he be given your place. He demanded you be demoted to oarsman.”
“Did Dedi agree?” I asked dully, trying to come to grips with what Abar was telling me she’d set in motion with, apparently, no regard for the consequences.
“He did. He told Rawer he was going to let him prove his boast. He said Rawer was going to be responsible for making sure daily deliveries to nearby hamlets are made on schedule, that boats currently under repair are completed on time, that construction of his two new boats is completed, that his craftsmen have enough raw materials at hand each morning to keep them busy all day, that the families of his workmen get fed. He told Rawer he has his doubts about what will happen. He said he could leave you behind to run things and not lose a minute of sleep.”
That was an empty compliment, given its context. I started to rise. I really didn’t want to be with Abar right now. I might say something I’d regret later. I had some thinking to do. And I needed to tell Amenia what had happened before she found out some other way. She’d be crushed. We’d spoken many times of her fear we’d never be joined. She’d been right to fear. I’d just never considered Abar would be the one to drive us apart. “I hope everything works out for you the way you’ve planned.”
“Oh, it will,” Abar said almost gleefully, her dark eyes flashing, putting a hand on my arm to keep me seated. “Rawer just made the rope he’s going to hang himself with!”
I was confused. “I don’t understand.”
“He’s going to fail miserably while you’re gone, Nykara! You know he will! The fleet will stop functioning. Everyone in Nekhen will see how utterly useless Rawer is – not just Father and Grandfather, but all the elite men. He’s going to alienate everyone who matters. Don’t you see – he’s going to destroy once and for all any chance he has to be Nekhen’s next ruler.”
By that reasoning, I wasn’t going to lose my position as overseer after all. I realized Abar hadn’t been trying to take anything away from me – she’d simply taken advantage of an opportunity to strike at Rawer, using me to do it, knowing Rawer would be too blinded by his hatred for me to figure out her motive in advocating for him. She was going to let him take himself out of the running as Nekhen’s next ruler, completely and irrevocably. “If Rawer loses the fleet permanently, and the elites make it clear to Aboo they won’t accept Rawer as his heir, your father won’t make you join with him either. He’ll save you for whoever he can make the best deal with.”
“Exactly.”
“So Rawer’s finally going to pay for how he’s treated you. You laid a trap and he jumped into it.”
“With both eyes wide open,” Abar said with satisfaction. “Payment for me and you both.”
I marveled at her ingenuity. “So, with Rawer out of the picture, have you decided which of the elite sons you’re going to steer your father towards picking?” I asked. “Who’s least likely to contest your use of the fleet, do you think?”
Abar’s eyes met mine. She looked deadly serious. “I’ve trusted you with many things since you became my friend,” she said. “You haven’t betrayed my confidences. Can I trust you with one more – the most important of all?”
“Of course,” I assured her solemnly.
“I’m not doing this lightly,” Abar said. “I promised myself I’d never tell any man what I’m about to tell you. I don’t know any man in Nekhen who believes a woman can do anything more complicated than make babies. I believe you’ve come to see me as capable of far more than that.”
“I think you can do anything you set your mind to,” I said loyally.
“Do you recall the ambition I expressed years ago at Pipi’s brewery?”
“The one you told me I misunderstood? That, in effect, you intended to rule equally with Rawer?”
She laughed. “The very one. The one you knew I was lying about.”
I laughed in turn. “Yes. I suppose you intend to rule equally with whoever you convince your father to name as his heir after all?”
Abar shook her head no. “I don’t intend to share rule with any man, Nykara. I intend to succeed Father and rule on my own.”
I simply stared at Abar. The very idea was preposterous and outrageous. No man in Nekhen would allow it. Pledge fealty to a woman?
“I’ve been working towards that end for years,” Abar continued. “Flirting with the elites and launching a bidding war for my hand was a delaying tactic, to keep Father from joining me to someone who’d use my blood connection to become heir and push me aside afterwards. Letting Rawer operate the fleet while you and Grandfather are in Maadi, and him failing, will eliminate him as a contender for ruler. With Rawer neutralized I’ll become the only viable candidate to succeed Father. No one else has both his and Grandfather’s blood. More importantly, I’m Father’s only direct descendant. Except for my sisters, and they’re too young.”
“That won’t matter to the elites,” I argued. “You’re a woman. They won’t consider you eligible.”
“Amenia does,” Abar said.
“How do you know?” I asked suspiciously.
“Because right after Grandfather made you his overseer and threatened to join me to you I asked Ipu what that meant for the succession. She said I was father’s most direct heir – not Rawer. Amenia was there.”
“Has Amenia told you she’s going to pick you?”
“No.”
“Is that why you’ve become her friend? To try to sway her, like Rawer’s been trying to do?”
“She asked me the very same question right after Ipu died.”
“Really?”
“Look, Nykara. I want to rule Nekhen. Amenia’s going to choose Father’s successor. Those are facts. The day I met with Amenia and Ipu, Amenia knew absolutely nothing about Nekhen or this region or the elites or Rawer or me or anyone else. How was she going to decide? By guessing? By listening to honeyed words? Do you think it would serve Nekhen if Amenia made an uneducated choice?”
“Of course not.”
“Ipu suggested I teach Amenia what she needs to know. So I’ve been instructing her for several years. Our friendship just happened, and it’s real. I’ve been above–board with Amenia all along. She knows I want to rule. But I’ve never once asked her who she’s going to pick or pressured her in any way to choose me.”
“Why are you telling me this? Do you want me to plead your case to Amenia?”
“Absolutely not!” Abar exclaimed. “I don’t know any woman who wants her man extolling the virtues of another woman to her.”
I laughed. “I suppose you’re right.”
“Especially not you,” Abar said. She blushed. “Amenia guessed I love you, Nykara. She confronted me about us. I told her about that night on your boat. The kiss, my confession, everything. I stressed how you rejected me because you wanted to be with her.”
I felt my face grow hot. Amenia had known about Abar and me for half a year and hadn’t said anything? I thought we were as close as we’d ever been. Did that mean she’d believed Abar? Should I have told her myself? Had I made a serious mistake, withholding that information? Or did she consider my silence proof I’d moved on from Abar?
“I’ll never put you in a position of advocating for me, Nykara. You mean too much to me. So does Amenia. I don’t want to damage in any way what you two have, or Amenia and me for that matter.”
“I appreciate that.”
“So, setting Amenia aside – as you say, the elites will rebel if she chooses me. So I need to convince the elites to change their mindset. Key to that will be explaining why I convinced Grandfather to set up the trading posts, and how they’ll make the elite families even wealthier and more influential than they are today. How what we’ve set in motion will eventually make Nekhen the dominant power in the valley, as
suring their descendents’ futures.”
“You know you’ll have to join with a powerful elite to gain the support of the rest, don’t you?”
“I’ve resigned myself to it.” Abar sighed. “After all, I’ll need an heir. That will require a man’s participation.”
“I’m so sorry you’re going to have to join with a man because of duty, not love,” I commiserated.
“Once you turned me down that became my fate,” Abar said somewhat bitterly.
If Abar had confessed her love before I met Amenia I’d have surrendered to her that night on the deck of my boat. Who knew how that might have changed both our lives. But I didn’t regret my decision. I cared deeply for Abar, but I belonged with Amenia.
“I’m sorry, Nykara – that wasn’t fair of me.” Abar shook her head sadly. “I was never destined to join for love. Father and Grandfather assured that when they promised me to Rawer. At least I’ll escape his clutches now. The best I can hope for is to join with a man who’s good and decent and intelligent – one my son will be able to emulate – someone as unlike Rawer as possible.”
“I truly hope you find him, Abar. Maybe one of the elites will surprise you. You deserve to be as happy as I am. Anyway, back to the matter at hand. I appreciate you’ve taken me into your confidence. Whatever you ask of me to help you become Nekhen’s ruler, I’ll do,” I pledged.
A weight seemed to lift from her shoulders. “Thank you, Nykara.”
As soon as the rest of the ceremony concluded we went our separate ways, Abar to feast with Rawer and her father and half–sisters, me with Amenia.
***
The gangplank was barely in place upon Dedi’s and my return from Maadi when Abar dashed up and clattered to a stop on the deck of my boat.
She spotted me. “Where’s Grandfather?” she asked, breathless. She’d been running.
“In the pavilion, getting his things together,” I replied.
“Come with me. Hurry!”
Abar took my hand, dodged around the boatmen who were shipping oars or already beginning to unload containers from the crowded deck, ducked into the pavilion near the stern. Reed mats were lowered on three of the four sides to keep the sun off; it was early afternoon and extremely hot. Dedi was stowing in a leather pouch the last of what he’d brought with him, preparing to disembark. He saw Abar. A smile creased his face.
“Grandfather!” Abar exclaimed. “I’m so happy to see you!”
Dedi threw his arms wide. They embraced.
“How was your trip?” she asked, stepping back.
“Everything I dreamed it would be,” Dedi replied with satisfaction. “Seeing the places named in our family stories, being in Maadi, meeting our trading partners face to face, traveling for weeks in this marvelous boat – even making a short visit to the delta. I’ll never forget any of it as long as I live. I have so much to tell you.”
“I’m so glad.”
“I’ve brought gifts for you,” Dedi added.
“I can’t wait to see them,” Abar said.
Dedi looked Abar up and down. “You didn’t hurry aboard just because you missed me,” he surmised.
“I did miss you. Very much. But, no,” Abar admitted. “I wanted to get to you before Rawer filled your ears with his lies.”
Dedi sighed heavily. “Sit down and tell me everything, Granddaughter.”
“You should stay, Nykara,” Abar said.
They arranged themselves on the mats covering the deck inside the pavilion. I remained standing.
“Rawer was absolutely incompetent,” Abar began. “Even with Senebi helping him. You should have seen the lines of incensed men outside Rawer’s hut every day – farmers who hadn’t received their daily beer and milk and blood, craftsmen who’d run out of raw materials, fishermen whose boats weren’t being repaired timely. I had reason to complain too – every single morning my men led strings of laden donkeys to the river only to find Rawer’s boats had departed half–full hours earlier.”
“Why didn’t the captains wait for your beasts?” I interrupted. “They all know better.” I addressed Dedi. “I know this reflects badly on me. I chose and trained all the captains myself. I’m sorry. I’ll make it right.”
“It’s not your fault, Nykara, nor your men’s,” Abar assured me. “Rawer took away their discretion. If he’d stepped aside and simply let them do their jobs everything would have been fine. But my cousin pontificates the most when he knows the least. And he knows hardly anything about your enterprise, Grandfather, even after all these years. He called the men together almost daily – not just the captains, but all the boatmen. He harangued them, threatened them, gave them confusing and contradictory orders. I witnessed him doing it myself. They complained to me constantly about him. They didn’t know where else to turn. Rawer quickly lost what little loyalty or respect he once had.”
“What did you do about it?” Dedi asked quietly.
Both of us knew Abar wouldn’t let Dedi’s enterprise fall apart without a fight.
“I stepped in and took control of deliveries after two weeks of Rawer’s nonsense. That’s all working fine now. I left everything else to Rawer. Sad to say, it’s a mess. Craftsmen have been idle. Practically the only items in your storage hut for your next trade expedition are Amenia’s jars and bowls and such. Repairs to boats are way behind schedule.”
“What about my workers’ families?” Dedi asked grimly.
“Heth made sure they were taken care of after the first couple of days. Rawer objected, but Father backed Heth. So they’re fine.”
Abar had been right – she’d given Rawer a rope and he’d hung himself.
Dedi rose. “Can’t say I didn’t expect it. But I did hold out hope for my grandson. Anyway, arrange for the elites to come see me, today,” he ordered Abar. “I want to hear for myself how they were impacted.” He sighed. “I’m going to go take a look around the boatyard and assess the damage. And then have a long talk with Rawer.”
“I’ll see to the unloading and then join you,” I told him.
After Dedi departed I escorted Abar to the head of the gangplank. She started to disembark, then paused.
“I took Father on a stroll past the boatyard whenever I knew someone would be shouting at Rawer,” she said in a low voice. “He witnessed Rawer’s incompetence firsthand. The enterprise of each and every elite was negatively impacted by Rawer’s actions. His failure emboldened them – two weeks ago they came unannounced to the audience hall en masse and flat out told Father that under no circumstance would they recognize Rawer as their ruler.”
“What did your father say?”
“His exact words? ‘Since I’ve identified no one better yet, Rawer’s still my heir.’”
“What does that mean?”
“As soon as Father does find someone better Rawer’s done. Father was signaling to the elites he’ll continue to accept offers and counteroffers from them. Eventually he’ll pick one, join me to a son, then name that son his heir. The elites all understood exactly what he was saying.”
“And Rawer?”
“Clueless. He was excluded from the meeting. I told him what Father said later. He believed Father was confirming his selection as heir. I didn’t dispute him. He still believes I’m going to be joined to him. Father’s continuing to treat him as if that’s the case, so he won’t suspect he’s done.”
“So everything’s worked out exactly like you planned when you had Rawer run Dedi’s enterprise.”
“Close enough,” Abar smiled.
***
I crouched just inside the entrance of the wood and reed building sheltering Aboo’s burial pit later that same night, keeping watch. A slim crescent of moon hovered slightly above the rim of the plateau a few dozen yards to the west. A warm breeze caressed my face. This particular structure was complete, except for being plastered inside and out and painted. That was scheduled for the next inundation. The rest of the partially–constructed buildings of Aboo’s complex appe
ared ghostly in the dim light of the river of stars flowing high overhead, featureless, indistinct shapes. I heard a scuffing step. A dark figure was approaching, someone clearly trying not to make a sound.
“Amenia?” I called in a low voice.
“Nykara?”
She closed the space between us.
“Were you followed?” I asked.
“I don’t think so. I could still hear Uncle snoring halfway through the upper settlement.” She shivered, looked over her shoulder. “Why did you want to meet in the cemetery, at this time of night?”
“I didn’t want to risk us being discovered. Come inside. I’ll explain. Abar’s here, too.”
She was huddled next to a small bowl of oil with a flaming linen wick at the bottom of Aboo’s burial pit. It provided little light; it was as much as I dared risk. The last thing I needed was a bright light in the rulers’ cemetery to attract anyone’s attention.
Amenia sat down cross–legged next to Abar. Abar greeted her and smiled, her face barely illuminated by the lamp. She glanced from Amenia to me. “You know, this is the first time the three of us have ever been alone together.”
“I’d say it’s about time,” I replied.
Amenia nodded. “So, Nykara, why now?”
“Dedi made me his heir a few hours ago,” I said.
Amenia gasped. She looked first at Abar, then me. “But that means…”
“It has implications for all of us,” I interrupted. “But so do several things that subsequently happened. I wanted to tell you both at the same time so we can make a plan to deal with it.”
The two women looked at each other uncertainly.
“I’ll start at the beginning,” I said. “A few hours after Dedi and I returned from Maadi he met with the elites in his hut. Abar and I were there too.”
The Women and the Boatman Page 41