The Women and the Boatman

by Mark Gajewski

  I bowed my head in acknowledgement. Then I looked up, gazed at Amenia, saw utter panic in her eyes. Hemaka had only promised her to me because I was Dedi’s heir and destined to someday be an elite. That wasn’t going to happen now, at least not as operator of Dedi’s enterprise. The moment Hemaka found out about my change in status he’d shift his attention from me to the existing elites. He’d have no trouble joining Amenia to one of their sons, given she was a valuable commodity now, able to wield the power of the falcon god. There’d be plenty of competition for Amenia with me out of the picture. The gods knew there’d been enough even with me in the picture, with Pipi and Teti and Seni negotiating with him, as well as other elites. That should have worried me, but it didn’t. I expected competition to work to my advantage. It would take Hemaka time to sort through all the offers he’d receive and negotiate the arrangement most favorable to him. I knew I could come up with one he wouldn’t be able to refuse. I only wished I could say something to comfort Amenia, so she wouldn’t worry. But this wasn’t the time or place.

  “From today,” Rawer announced, “Senebi will oversee my fleet, as his father did for Dedi for so many years.”

  The elites would be mortified when they found out. Everything would spiral out of control, much as it had when Dedi and I were in Maadi and Rawer and Senebi were in charge. Neither had ever paid attention to what Dedi had tried to teach them either before or after that period, nor what I’d tried to impart after I became Dedi’s heir. And so what Dedi had built would eventually fall apart, and the elites and everyone else in Nekhen would pay the price. But someday Aboo would die, and Amenia would confirm Abar as Nekhen’s next ruler, and I’d construct a fleet and unite my boats with her donkeys and rebuild the transportation network and put everything to rights. How much damage Rawer did would depend on how much longer Aboo lived.

  “Get out, Nykara!” Rawer insisted a third time.

  “I’ll leave when I carry Dedi’s body to his grave,” I said calmly, crossing my arms over my chest.

  “Suit yourself,” Rawer said after a long pause. He faced Aboo. “Another issue. Grandfather insisted Abar and I be joined as soon as possible. ‘Death comes suddenly,’ he said. ‘There will be chaos if Abar isn’t joined to me before Aboo is dead.’”

  Abar’s face was instantly grim, her lips set in a tight line. She gave Rawer a scathing look. “Father, every elite man in Nekhen has agreed your successor will be the man who’s joined to me. So the true power to succeed you lies with me. I’ll pick my own man.” She turned to her cousin. “And it isn’t going to be you, Rawer.”

  Rawer’s face flamed red with fury. “Uncle, every man in Nekhen controls who his daughter joins with. Are you so weak you can’t control yours?”

  It had to be as clear to Aboo as it was to me that to negate the threat posed by a potential alliance between Teti and Pipi Aboo absolutely had to retain control of the entire transportation network, for with it he could control the elites. But Aboo could only control it if he forced Abar to join with Rawer immediately, before his secret dealings were revealed. But how? Abar was resisting. Unless Aboo was willing to bodily carry Abar to Rawer’s hut he’d be proving the very weakness Rawer had just accused him of. Rawer would certainly have Senebi spread news of Abar’s refusal and Aboo’s inaction throughout Nekhen. Who knew the ramifications of that?

  “Give Abar to me right now or I’ll pull every one of my boats onto land immediately,” Rawer threatened. “There won’t be any deliveries by water in the valley, either from Nekhen or to Nekhen. Nekhen’s workers will starve without foodstuffs. There will be utter chaos. And it will be your fault.”

  “Donkeys can transport food from farms,” Abar pointed out.

  “You don’t have enough donkeys,” Rawer snapped. “You keep telling me you’re concerned about Nekhen’s welfare, Abar. If that’s true you’ll submit to me.”

  Abar stiffened. “That’s the crux of the problem, Rawer – you’ve always wanted me to submit,” she said icily. “If you’d just once told me you valued me and my opinions and the help I could give you we wouldn’t be in this position. But you didn’t. So I’ll never join with you.”

  “Then I’ll join with one of the elite women – Herneith or Neith, maybe even Semat. Maybe I’ll join with several, just to form a more extensive alliance. Then you’ll never be a ruler’s woman, Abar. That’s what you claim you were born to be, remember?”

  Abar aspired to far more than that.

  “Or I could join with Wenher,” Rawer continued. “She’s of our blood, Uncle. Or even Hunur. It’d be symbolic until she becomes a woman. Abar’s blood is no better than either of theirs.”

  “If you can join with Wenher, I can join with Wehemka,” Abar countered. “Their blood is equal.”

  “You see!” Rawer cried, turning to Aboo. “Abar wants power! That’s why she flirts with the elites, so they’ll think they have a chance to be with her. She’s the one who’s created chaos in Nekhen. She’s done it deliberately.” He stared at Abar. “Give her to me, Uncle. I’ll get her under control.” The last he said menacingly.

  “You threaten every man and woman and child in the valley and I’m the one who needs to be controlled?” Abar asked disgustedly. “You dally with every woman who crosses your path and I’m the one who needs to be controlled?” Abar shook her head. “Father, my son, your grandson, will be an uncontestable heir. Let me pick a man and join with him and bear a child. By the time you’re in your grave he’ll be old enough to rule. Together we can sidestep Rawer.”

  “Unless he’s not born in time,” Rawer rejoined.

  “Are you threatening to kill Aboo?” I asked pointedly.

  Rawer shrugged. “That’s your interpretation.”

  Was there any other?

  Rawer turned back to Aboo. “I could easily have Senebi spread the story Dedi’s last words were he’d made a mistake yielding to you, that Abar’s intransigence and your inability to control her are proof, that he wanted me, his direct descendant, to take over as ruler immediately.”

  “You’d lie?” Aboo said, appalled. “The elites would never believe you.”

  “You’ve already accepted his lies today, Father,” Abar said quietly.

  “You see how it is,” Rawer told Aboo haughtily. “I can set the vultures to circling in no time. I can make sure there won’t be a peaceful transition to your successor – either after you’re dead, or before. There’s only one way to get yourself out of this. Join me to Abar – now. As you said, the sooner she gives you a grandson, the sooner you have a direct male descendant, the better. No one could challenge your grandson’s right to rule. Eventually. As soon as I’ve had my turn.”

  Aboo bowed his head, stared at the ground for a long time, clearly lost, unsure. He was as afraid of Abar as he was of Rawer. Not to mention Teti and Pipi. Sweat beaded on his brow. “What do you say?” he suddenly asked Amenia, with the tone of a drowning man who’d just grabbed onto a rope. “It’s your job to confirm my successor. Who has the god told you to select?”

  Aboo had just shifted the responsibility for dealing with Rawer from himself to Amenia. What a coward! Without knowing it, he’d also boxed Amenia into an utterly hopeless position as far as Abar’s future was concerned. Amenia couldn’t say she was going to confirm Rawer simply to throw him off track today – Rawer would force Amenia to formally announce him as the god’s choice and Amenia wouldn’t be able to take it back later. She couldn’t say she was going to confirm Abar because that would give Rawer time to rally the elites against her. Amenia couldn’t name one of the other elites, for none of them were any better than Rawer. She couldn’t say she hadn’t dreamed, for that would open the floodgates and create chaos; Teti and Pipi would definitely seize the opportunity to push Aboo aside. Aboo had neatly trapped Amenia. What could she possibly say to extricate herself and retain the ability to choose Abar after her father died? I recognized this as the defining moment in Abar’s and Nekhen’s future. Amenia’s reply woul
d determine if the plan Abar had worked on for so many years, to become Nekhen’s ruler, to pursue Dedi’s quest, would ultimately succeed or fail.

  Abar gave Amenia’s hand a long squeeze.

  Abar rose. She held her head high. She’d never looked more regal – or dangerous. “I’ll join with you, Rawer,” she said without emotion.

  Both Rawer and Aboo appeared shocked she’d capitulated.

  Willingly submitting to Rawer without further argument was the only thing Abar could have done to free Amenia from Aboo’s trap and keep Rawer from becoming suspicious about her real choice. By forestalling Amenia’s answer to Aboo’s question, Abar had preserved Amenia’s ability to choose her as Nekhen’s ruler later. Amenia and Abar had agreed during the hunting expedition on this specific course of action if they ever faced this situation, though at the time they’d expected Abar would have to join with Weni, not Rawer. I’d been skeptical they’d follow through, but they had. Abar had just sacrificed her present to ensure the future she wanted could still be possible. It was grossly unfair she’d had to, but she couldn’t have done anything else.

  Abar had also assured Aboo would continue to rule Nekhen by forestalling Teti and Pipi and their potential alliance. I knew she was smart enough to have figured that out, too.

  “That’s settled, then,” Aboo said almost cheerfully, relief in his voice. “As soon as we’ve buried Dedi, Abar, you’ll go with Rawer to his hut.”

  ***

  I walked up the wadi path to the upper terrace, an hour or so before sunset, bound for Hemaka’s and Sanakht’s pottery establishment. A week had passed since Rawer kicked me out of the boatyard. I shared Heth’s hut now in the cluster inhabited by my copper workers. Abar had indeed been joined to Rawer immediately after Dedi’s burial, and ever since I’d avoided visiting any section of Nekhen where I might encounter either of them, separately or together. I couldn’t stand the thought of looking Abar in the eyes, knowing I’d failed to keep her safe from Rawer. And I feared if I ran into Rawer I wouldn’t be able to contain my fury and I’d do or say something I’d regret later. He’d won a battle but not a war. I could hardly wait for the day Amenia would confirm Abar as Nekhen’s ruler instead of him. Then Abar would have the power to push Rawer aside and live the rest of her life on her own terms. I wished she wasn’t going to have to spend the years between now and Aboo’s death subjugated to Rawer. I didn’t want her to suffer at his hands.

  Joining was the reason I was headed to see Hemaka, or, rather, to stop a joining. Two days ago Nekauba had drunkenly boasted his father was going to force Hemaka to honor the agreement to unite him with Amenia, and his claim had quickly spread throughout Nekhen. According to the rumors, Sanakht had offered half his share of the pottery works to Hemaka as an incentive. The elites were busily proposing counteroffers to Sanakht’s; Wenher had informed me her father was now negotiating for Amenia to be joined to her brother Wehemka. That would clear the way for Wenher and I to be joined, or so she hoped. But I had no intention of letting Amenia slip through my fingers. I was prepared to do whatever was necessary to keep that from happening.

  Hemaka was seated on a leather stool in the shade under his verandah, leaning back against the side of his house, overseeing his workers from a distance. He looked up at my approach, stiffened. “I’m surprised you’d show your face here after what’s happened.”

  I hadn’t expected to be embraced with open arms. I stood my ground. “We need to talk about Amenia.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about,” Hemaka said dismissively. “I allowed you to be with my niece because you were Dedi’s heir. You were going to become an elite. Now you don’t even work in the boatyard. Believe me, there are plenty of men from elite families who are quite willing and anxious to join with Amenia, now that she’s a priestess. Joining her to any one of them will link my family to theirs and increase my status.”

  Hemaka hadn’t asked me to sit. That was fine with me; standing, I towered over him. I looked down at him. “Just what do you expect to gain by this increased status?” I scoffed. “Tell me, Hemaka – which of the elites is going to increase your wealth? Are you counting on Pipi or Teti or Seni to step up?”

  He looked startled.

  “That’s right – I know you were negotiating with them for months before Rawer upset their plans. For that matter, do you expect them or any other elite to make up for the wealth you’re about to lose?”

  “Lose?”

  “Why, the wine and lapis lazuli and other exotic products from the North you’ve been receiving in exchange for Amenia’s pottery, of course,” I replied. “Haven’t you heard? As soon as he took over the fleet Rawer announced he’s not going to send trade expeditions to Maadi anymore. He doesn’t have any captains capable of going all that way. He’s afraid to lead one himself. So he’s beached Dedi’s largest cargo boat and dismissed its crew. He won’t be calling on you for Amenia’s black–topped pottery ever again.”

  Hemaka’s reaction told me he’d been unaware. His narrowed eyes told me he was calculating his loss and didn’t like the result. “He’ll need her decorated pottery to trade at Tjeni and Nubt,” he spluttered.

  “Rawer’s already sent a couple of his friends to replace the men who currently run the trading posts Dedi set up. They don’t have any experience as traders. I predict there’ll be a sudden and significant reduction in the amount of goods exchanged between Nekhen and all settlements and hamlets in the southern valley. Rawer will need far less decorated pottery than in the past.”

  “Why are you here?” Hemaka snapped. “To gloat?”

  “On the contrary. I want to give you a chance to partner with me and become even wealthier than before.”

  Hemaka snorted. “Impossible. Only the elites have wealth. And you’ll never be one of them now.”

  “Are you so sure about that?”

  “You’ve been kicked out of the boatyard.”

  “That’s not the basis of my wealth.”

  “Copper?” Hemaka sneered. “As soon as you run out of ingots your smithy will close.”

  “I have no intention of running out of ingots.”

  Hemaka eyed me speculatively. “Explain yourself.”

  “Send for Amenia. She should hear this too.”

  Hemaka reflected for a moment, squinted at me. “Amenia!” he shouted.

  Every worker in the yard turned to stare at us. Nekauba was standing next to the kilns, eyeing me triumphantly. He clearly assumed I was no longer his rival, that his father’s offer of a greater share of the pottery works would sway Hemaka. Nekauba wouldn’t mind if that happened; the entire works would be his when Sanakht and Hemaka died anyway.

  Amenia emerged from the house. She saw me and stopped dead in her tracks.

  “You may as well sit,” Hemaka said. “Both of you.”

  There were no stools. Amenia sat cross–legged on the ground, facing her uncle, casting wondering glances my way. I remained standing.

  “Tell me,” Hemaka said.

  “I’m going to trade in the North on my own,” I said.

  “How?” he sneered. “You don’t have a boat.”

  “I’ve already started building one. Within two months I’m going to set out for Maadi. In less than four I’ll return with a load of goods, like before. Including copper ingots.”

  “Have you come to beg for a load of Amenia’s pottery? Is that what you want – for me to finance your trip?” Hemaka laughed.

  “I will indeed need Amenia’s pottery – as much as she can make before I depart. I’ll fill her jars with items I’ve received in trade for the copper tools and weapons I’ve produced in my metal works.” I shook my head. “Hemaka, there’s not an elite man who isn’t dependent on my copper – especially Rawer, though that hasn’t occurred to him yet because he has no clue about how his boatyard functions.” I smiled. “It’s copper that’s going to make me an elite. Being Dedi’s heir never was. I’m surprised you didn’t realize that long ago. Frankly, Hema
ka, I’m calling on you first, giving you the opportunity to become my partner, because of my relationship with Amenia. Do you doubt I could make a deal with any of the elites – the woodcutters, or fishermen, or hunters, or stone workers? Every one of them relies on my copper tools and weapons – you think they wouldn’t partner with me without a second thought? Why, Pipi and I agreed to be partners once. Which you well know.”

  I had Hemaka then, for everything I’d said was true. Plus, I could cut off the flow of copper to any individual elite I chose – such as Rawer – and his boatmen and craftsmen would have to go back to using stone tools and he’d have to add more men to do the same amount of work they did now. Of course, as Hemaka had observed, if I couldn’t get to Maadi and obtain a supply of copper ingots Heth would soon run out of material and the leverage I currently had would disappear. So I had to move quickly, while I still had a reserve of copper to work. I needed Hemaka right now as much as he needed me.

  “What are you proposing?” Hemaka asked.

  “Amenia’s pottery, in the same styles and quantities as before.”

  “You just said Rawer’s men in Tjeni and Nubt are incompetent. What if they can’t trade the pottery?”