The Women and the Boatman

by Mark Gajewski

  Moments ago Weni had offered to join with me. He’d already moved on to Abar. Was there any man who wasn’t an opportunist? Would they all do whatever was expedient to become Nekhen’s ruler?

  “If I can’t get what I want, none of you will get what you want either,” Rawer said darkly. “I promise you that.”

  “What can you do against our combined might?” Weni snorted. “There are more of us than you, and together we elites have more power than you can muster alone.”

  Rawer stared at Weni. “If someone ever raises a conspiracy against me, you and your father better not be involved, Weni. I’ll make you both pay.” His eyes swept over us. “That goes for all of you.” Then he spun on his heel and disappeared into the darkness.

  He was barely out of sight before I too rose and headed back to camp by a different route, leaving everyone behind. I didn’t want to spend a single moment longer with this bunch.

  ***

  I found Nykara sitting by the commoners’ fire in the midst of relaxing hunters and herdsmen and boatmen and serving women and girls. Every woman had paired off; most were hanging all over their partner, or vice versa. It wasn’t just elite daughters who took advantage of excursions like this to break out of the boredom of their daily lives. Everyone seemed to be having a good time, with the exception of the unattached males. More men had come to support the expedition than women, and a few girls were still tending to the elites at their nearby fire. Nykara greeted me with a smile. I sat next to him.

  “Are you hungry, Amenia?” a hunter asked solicitously. He pointed to half–empty bowls and platters of meat and fruit and bread. “Help yourself.”

  “Or thirsty?” queried another. He indicated a tall earthenware jar at his feet. “We appropriated some of Aboo’s wine,” he said confidentially.

  Based on jovial shouts from around the elites’ fire and the figures staggering drunkenly in its light the wine wouldn’t be missed.

  “No, thank you,” I replied. I leaned over, my lips near Nykara’s ear. “Go find Abar. Bring her to your boat,” I whispered urgently. “The three of us need to talk. Make sure no one follows you. There are spies skulking about. We can’t trust anyone except Inetkawes.”

  Nykara nodded.

  “I’m off to bed,” I announced loudly a few moments later. I stood and scanned the men. “I need to be well rested for tomorrow. I expect I’ll spend most of the day tending to your injuries.”

  Their good–natured protests followed me into the darkness.

  I was sitting in shadow inside the pavilion on the deck of the boat, facing the riverbank, when Abar and Nykara climbed aboard.

  “Where were you earlier?” I asked Abar as she seated herself beside me. “You missed a messy confrontation between Rawer and Weni and Wehemka.” I noticed then her cheeks were wet with tears.

  “I was with Father in his tent, having a confrontation of my own. I’m surprised you didn’t hear us. We were screaming at each other.”

  “You’ve been crying?”

  “Yes.”

  “What happened?” Nykara asked.

  “He’s decided to join me to Weni,” Abar practically spat. “He’s taken Teti’s deal. He’s going to announce our joining at next year’s hunt.”

  “Aboo’s really chosen Teti over Pipi?” I was incredulous.

  “Yes.”

  “Why wait a year to announce it?” Nykara queried.

  “Father’s demanded gold and beer and cattle from Teti and Seni and Salitis as a sign of good faith. It’ll take them that long to accumulate the amount they’ve agreed to.”

  I was flabbergasted. “I thought he’d drag the bidding war out much longer.”

  “So did I. But Father’s become obsessed with having a grandson, and soon, to assure his line’s survival. Assuming my son by Weni is of age when Father dies, Father believes the elites will accept his right to rule.”

  “Straightforward direct descent from our current ruler. I’d have to confirm him,” I said.

  “That’s Father’s expectation.”

  “Has he told Pipi?” Nykara asked.

  Abar snorted. “Father’s going to pretend he hasn’t decided yet and keep stringing him along.”

  “How?”

  “He’ll continue to proclaim publicly that Rawer’s his heir and I’m to be joined to him. He’ll keep negotiating with Pipi behind the scenes.”

  “Weni will be pleased,” I said. “He vowed to join with you earlier tonight, Abar. A few minutes after he vowed to join with me.”

  “Maybe he should have us both,” Abar said darkly. “I could hold him down while you stab him.”

  Not a half–bad idea. “I’m shocked your father picked Teti,” I said. “Aboo surely knows about Pipi’s arrangement with Nykara for the fleet.”

  “He does,” Nykara interjected.

  “Isn’t your father afraid of Pipi using Nykara’s fleet and smithy to strike at his alliance with Teti?” I asked.

  “Father doesn’t believe his deal with Teti will affect the transportation network. I’m afraid you’re to blame, Nykara,” Abar said.

  “Me?”

  “Father respects you. He’s convinced you’ll operate the fleet in Nekhen’s best interests. Which means using it in concert with Father’s herd even if I’m joined to Weni. The good news for you, Amenia, is Father also sees many advantages from Nykara being joined to you. He’ll order your uncle to make that happen right after he names Weni his heir, mostly so you and Nykara will both be in his debt.”

  “Aboo’s using Teti to create his own grand alliance – ruler, Teti, priestess, fleet operator – all loosely tied together,” Nykara said.

  My dream realized. Abar’s destroyed.

  “I could tell Pipi how he’s being played and the whole deal would blow up in Aboo’s face,” Nykara said thoughtfully. “I could do it at a time of our choosing, too, to maximize the damage.”

  “That aside, the bidding war for you is truly over, Abar?” I asked.

  “It seems so.”

  “Your quest to rule?”

  “Dead, if my son with Weni is old enough to succeed Father when he dies. If he’s too young you could confirm him anyway and name me his regent. That would be the same as ruling, at least until he’s of age.”

  “What if you haven’t given birth to a son by the time Aboo dies?” I asked.

  “Same as now – you’ll have to choose between Rawer and Weni and the other elites and me.”

  I’d been thinking about Nekhen’s future constantly since the day Abar met with Great–grandmother and me in the audience hall. Nekhen’s next ruler had to be someone who could react to a rapidly changing present and envision a startlingly different future and take full advantage of new possibilities. Rawer would try to ignore change, try to stand against the wave of progress sweeping the valley and hold it back. So would Weni and Wehemka and every other elite man. Abar, on the other hand, would ride the wave as far as she could take it. I’d known since the night of Great–grandmother’s death, when the falcon god sent me my dream, that I was going to confirm Abar. I hadn’t told her yet because I feared she’d steal Nykara away from me if I did. She loved him. But Abar was truly my friend. I had to trust she wouldn’t do anything to hurt me. After what I’d witnessed on the riverbank tonight, I realized there would be a tremendous fight when I confirmed Abar. Because she was a woman Nekhen’s elite men were not going to willingly submit to her when Aboo died – unless they were committed to do so far in advance. Being Aboo’s most direct descendent was not going to be enough in her case – Abar would need an alliance of her own to actually rule, no matter what I said. She’d need time to build that alliance. Keeping my decision secret to protect my own interests was not serving Nekhen, for by so doing I was denying Abar time. I’d denied her far too much already. And so, walking from the river to the campfire, with the night’s events fresh in my mind, I’d finally decided to tell Abar what she’d waited so long to hear.

  “You should have
been with me earlier, Abar,” I said. “Rawer had it out with Weni and Wehemka, no holds barred. All three of them were awful. They fought over Nekhen. They fought over me and you, as if neither of us should have a say in our future. They proved to me they don’t care who they hurt, that they care only about themselves and their status. Not one of them uttered a single word about Nekhen or its future or the welfare of its people. It was just ‘I’ll take so–and–so from you,’ or ‘I’ll keep so–and–so from him.’ All three want to put everyone else in their place so they can have ultimate power. Weni and Wehemka outright tried to bribe me so I’d choose them as ruler.”

  “And so?” There was cautious hope in Abar’s voice.

  “The day Aboo tries to force you to join with Weni I’ll tell him I’m going to confirm you.”

  Abar couldn’t hide her relief. That I’d decided in her favor clearly released a great deal of tension. She leaned towards me, earnest. Her eyes searched mine, as if she didn’t believe she’d finally heard the words she’d waited so long for me to utter. “Are you sure? Did you have a dream about me?”

  “I had a dream. But it wasn’t about you. So the decision’s mine.” No sense telling her or Nykara how long ago I’d dreamed. I simply wasn’t brave enough.

  “You don’t have any doubts about me?”

  “I have doubts about me! Look at who I am, Abar! A potter. A healer. Who am I to hold Nekhen’s fate in my hands? Since the day I began to wear the talisman I’ve been almost paralyzed, knowing I was responsible for choosing. But tonight I got a terrifying glimpse of what would happen if I didn’t, if I let Rawer and the elites fight it out and then confirmed whoever was left standing. The falcon god made me Great–grandmother’s heir for a reason. I haven’t taken that responsibility lightly. I’ve watched Rawer and you and the elites closely these past years. Rawer is a truly awful man. He has no redeeming qualities. Nor do any of the elites. I feel the same way Tiaa must have – she had to step in and do what was best for Nekhen by choosing someone better. In this case, you.”

  “I appreciate your faith in me,” Abar said sincerely. “But you can’t tell Father, no matter what.”

  Nykara looked as surprised as I must have.

  “Why not?” I asked. “Isn’t that what you want, for everyone to know you’re going to be the next ruler?”

  “I do. But knowing your choice now would give Weni years to marshal a force against me, so that when Father dies he’ll be able to seize power without your blessing, even if we have a son. The elites will fall in line behind him if they know the alternative is a woman. And don’t count Rawer out. He won’t meekly accept Father’s designation of Weni as his heir. Rawer will build an alliance to combat Weni – and he’ll try to negate you, discredit you in some horrible way, so he can entirely control the outcome. It’s best if you don’t even hint at your selection to anyone until the very moment you announce it in the oval court. If my joining with Weni and submitting to him in the short term is the price I have to pay for defeating him and the rest of the elites in the end, I’ll pay it.”

  “That’s an extraordinarily high price,” I said. “Submitting to a man you don’t care for? Are you sure?”

  “That was always going to be my fate. But even if it wasn’t, how could I do less, for Nekhen?” Abar asked.

  I took Abar in my arms and hugged her. In that moment I loved her, for herself, and for the sacrifice she was prepared to make. She loved Nykara. I still saw it in her eyes every time she looked at him. By joining with Weni she’d be giving up the chance to be with Nykara forever. She truly was prepared to do whatever she had to for our settlement. What more confirmation did I need that I’d chosen wisely?

  3445 BC

  Nykara

  The boatyard was strangely deserted. I was approaching from the north with a load of foodstuffs from farms where I’d spent the morning and afternoon making my daily deliveries. The rest of Dedi’s boats were already tied to the mooring posts, their sterns swaying back and forth with the rhythm of the current. But no boatmen were around the landing place. Something was amiss.

  I nosed the boat into its berth, jumped into the water and scrambled onto land even before one of my men secured the vessel. The faint sound of keening women came to me. It had to be Dedi.

  I raced up the slope towards where the boatmen lived, rounded the northernmost structure. The entire area outside Dedi’s distant hut where the two of us lived was packed with boatmen and craftsmen and their families. Women were crying, bending and grabbing handfuls of dust, throwing it on their heads. Nekhen’s elite men were gathered in a knot, solemn, talking amongst themselves. That they were outside instead of inside was curious and ominous. I sprinted the remaining distance to the hut. Everyone milling in the yard parted to let me pass. Senebi was blocking the entrance, arms folded over his chest.

  “You’re not welcome here,” Senebi sneered, looking up at me.

  I shoved him so hard in the chest with both hands he staggered, fell, landed on his back inside the hut. He cried out in anger and pain. I stepped over him.

  Dedi was stretched out on his pallet on the far side of the small room. His body had already been prepared for burial, except for being entirely wrapped with strips of linen. Unlike women, he wouldn’t have resin–soaked pads placed around his head and hands. Abar was sitting on the ground next to him, her hand atop his. She looked up at me, tears streaming down her cheeks. Amenia was on her knees beside Abar, an arm draped around Abar’s shoulders. Her cheeks were also wet. Aboo was standing at the foot of the pallet. He turned at my entrance. Rawer was next to him. Rawer glared at Senebi, then glanced at me resignedly. I was certain he’d ordered Senebi to keep me out.

  Grave goods had already been assembled along one wall – mats, linen, wood boxes, lapis lazuli, precious stones, pottery jars full of fat and wine and beer, cosmetic palettes, pigments, fine stone vases, ivory pins and combs, copper objects, harpoon heads, fish hooks and flint knives, necklaces, pendants, ivory figurines, a vast selection of Amenia’s decorated pottery. In effect, everything Dedi had used in life. I intended to make sure every last object made it into Dedi’s grave – not Rawer’s hut.

  “Grandfather took sick this morning and was dead by midday,” Rawer announced matter–of–factly.

  Amenia wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, gazed up at me. Malachite was smeared on her cheeks, giving her a particularly mournful appearance. “I did everything I could for him.”

  I nodded. “I’m sure you did. Thank you.”

  “Now that you’ve seen him,” Rawer said, “get out. You don’t have any right to be here.”

  “I’m Dedi’s heir,” I said coldly. “I have every right.”

  “Actually, you’re not.” Rawer addressed Aboo. “Uncle, Grandfather gave me specific instructions before he died. Senebi was here with me – he heard everything.”

  Senebi, on his feet again, rubbing a shoulder, nodded his head vigorously, then smirked at me. He kept his distance.

  “Grandfather said his approaching death had brought him clarity. He said he’d wronged me – not by making Nykara his overseer in my place – even I know he was justified at the time, for, frankly, I was young and foolish back then. Grandfather said I’d grown up these past years, that my supervision of your tomb complex had proved that, that he should have reinstated me as his heir a year ago. ‘Blood,’ he said, ‘matters more than anything, and Nykara is not of our blood.’ Grandfather was insistent from now on I personally operate the boatyard and the fleet and oversee his craftsmen.”

  I willed my face to remain impassive. I’d always known this day would come. I wasn’t particularly surprised Rawer hadn’t even waited for Dedi to be buried before pushing me aside. But I wasn’t about to go down without a fight. “Did Dedi actually say that, Amenia?”

  “I wasn’t here when he died,” she replied softly.

  “You said you tried to heal him.”

  “When it was clear I couldn’t Rawer told me to leave.
He said I wasn’t needed anymore. I went to fetch Abar and Aboo. By the time we got back Dedi was dead.”

  That was convenient.

  “Did Dedi actually say these things?” Aboo asked Senebi sharply.

  He didn’t hesitate for an instant. “Every word, exactly as Rawer reported.”

  I had a pretty good idea how Rawer was going to reward Senebi for supporting his lie.

  “So, again, Nykara – get out,” Rawer snapped. “I’ve already had your things removed from this hut. I don’t want to see you in my boatyard again – ever.” There was triumph in his eyes.

  I met his gaze, unflinching. I didn’t care he’d kicked me aside. My only ambition in life had been to be a boatman, and through that means to pursue Dedi’s dream for Nekhen. Rawer believed he’d just taken my livelihood away from me. But he couldn’t stop me from building and operating a boat of my own. Luckily, I had my smithy to finance its construction and support its crew. With my own boat I’d have the freedom to concentrate on trade to benefit myself – and as far as goods to trade, I wouldn’t need Dedi’s – Rawer’s – craftsmen to make any. The copper objects I supplied to the elites and nearby hamlets brought plenty of useful items in return for me to exchange elsewhere. It was going to take time, but I believed I’d come out alright in the end. So if Rawer expected me to plead or complain or appeal to Aboo to intervene on my behalf he was sadly mistaken. Rawer was the first to drop his eyes.

  “Rawer’s lying. You know that, don’t you Father?” Abar asked.

  Aboo looked like he wanted to be anywhere else. Because of Rawer’s claim, he suddenly had a major problem to deal with. For years he’d been publicly proclaiming Rawer and Abar would be joined and Rawer would succeed him. In private, assuming Rawer would never regain Dedi’s enterprise, he’d finalized an alliance with Teti and Seni and Salitis to name Weni his heir and join Abar to him, at the same time continuing to negotiate with Pipi. With the fleet back in Rawer’s hands, Aboo’s deal with Teti was dead. But Teti wasn’t the kind of man to accept being outmaneuvered by Rawer and betrayed by Aboo. He’d reveal the existence of their deal, meaning Pipi and Rawer would learn about it. Pipi would be incensed when he discovered Aboo had been negotiating with him in bad faith. Rawer would be furious when he learned Aboo had abandoned him and thrown his lot in with Teti. I thought it entirely possible Teti and Pipi might set aside their differences and band together and rally the rest of the elites to force Aboo to step aside as ruler, making it irrelevant whether he named Rawer his heir or not. Aboo wasn’t quick–witted enough to figure a way out of his dilemma on the fly. So he surrendered. “Rawer has a witness,” Aboo told Abar helplessly. He shrugged, looked at me. “I’m sorry, Nykara. It appears Rawer has been restored to his place, as Dedi wished.”