Rawer took the bloody knife from Aboo. More women rinsed our ruler with water a second time. Then Aboo led us from the courtyard to an open area in front of the workshops where food waited.
***
The feast surpassed any I remembered in quantity and variety. The elite women and I shared a large sunscreen, waited on by a host of young girls. My skirt was still wet and darkly stained with blood and my arms and legs were streaked with malachite; the images of the falcons had run when the women dumped water on me. Inetkawes and I sat a little apart, at one end, where we could talk without being interrupted. We were served every kind of meat imaginable, and fruit and vegetables, and bread with honey. I ate my fill; we rarely had meat at Uncle Hemaka’s, for he kept only a small number of animals in his pen and was loath to ever slay one. The elite men were nearby under a separate sunscreen, gathered around Aboo, also waited on by many servants, cooled by young girls swishing fans. Rawer had seated himself in the place of honor next to our ruler. The elites had subtly arranged themselves in groups – those supporting Rawer, those adhering to Pipi or Teti, those still unaligned. Nykara was some distance away from the elite sunscreen along with Heth and his copper workers and craftsmen, feasting in the shade of several acacia trees. Both of my uncles were with men of similar status, and Yuny was with a group of farmers. My uncles constantly cast covetous glances at the elites.
A girl circulated among us, filling cups from a jar of wine. I suspected it was among the last remaining Nykara had brought Aboo from Maadi before Rawer cut off long distance trade expeditions. Soon, only Uncle Hemaka would have a supply of wine. He actually had a storage hut full, the proceeds of Nykara’s first two expeditions. He’d likely barter it for other goods or favors in the future. And more wine would soon be on the way. In two days Nykara was going to embark on his third trip to Maadi this year. Tomorrow I’d finish firing one last load of pottery for him, and the day after he’d bring donkeys to my kiln to retrieve it; there was no sense in shuttling it to Uncle’s works just to move it again the following day. Aside from the wine Nykara had brought back for Uncle, and some ivory and ostrich feathers and stone vases, the bulk of his cargo each trip had consisted of copper ingots. With them, Heth had been able to keep his smithy operating at full capacity. As Nykara had predicted, the elites were completely dependent on him. I’d heard whispers Rawer was infuriated Nykara was wealthier and more influential now than he’d been when he operated Dedi’s enterprise. Rawer’s pettiness had not paid off – for him, anyway.
Partway through the meal Abar approached Inetkawes and me. I won the fight to be the first to hold baby Shery.
“He’s grown so much already,” I said admiringly as Inetkawes stroked the fuzz atop his head.
“He should. It’s a good thing I have Tentopet to help me. He’s always hungry.”
“How are you?” I asked Abar.
“Well. But lonely.”
I lowered my voice. “I’m so sorry for what you’re going through, Abar.”
She smiled wryly. “At least I have Shery now. And Rawer pretty much leaves me alone – he’s got women up and down the valley and his serving girls he can go to for… that. I wouldn’t be surprised if he has more children stashed away somewhere.”
Her casual acceptance of Rawer’s infidelity was shocking. Though I supposed she was used to it by now, since he’d been unfaithful to her long before their joining. I leaned close. “We’ll make him pay someday,” I promised.
Our sunscreen was on the eastern edge of a long flat stretch of the slope between the upper and lower settlements. That area was starting to fill with men and boys, both commoners and elites, for that’s where the athletic events that were part of every festival were about to be contested. Women were already lining the edge of the field to either side of us to cheer on their favorites. Rawer and Wehemka and Heth and even Nekauba were in the milling group of participants awaiting the first event, a competition to see who could throw a spear the farthest. Someone was scratching a line in the dirt to mark the starting point.
Suddenly Nykara slipped next to me and sat down. I greeted him with a glad cry.
He peered over my shoulder at the child in my arms. “A beautiful baby,” he told Abar, placing his fingertip in Shery’s palm.
Shery made a fist, grasped it.
“How does it go in the valley?” Abar asked nonchalantly, gazing at the men who were arranging themselves in a loose line for the first event, avoiding looking at Nykara.
I knew for a fact the last time Abar and Nykara had been in each other’s company was the day Dedi died almost a year ago. Anyone who overheard her question would surely consider it innocent. Much lay beneath it, however. Abar was actually inquiring about his efforts to build a base of support for her among the leading men of the hamlets to north and south to counteract the one Rawer was building in Nekhen.
“You have friends in the hamlets, though you could use many more. Because Rawer’s failing to supply them with necessities I’m finding it easy to recruit supporters.”
“Thank them for me,” Abar said.
“I will.” Nykara bowed his head, lowered his voice. “I’m so sorry, Abar.”
“It wasn’t your fault – any of it.”
“This is for you, Amenia!”
The four of us turned our attention to the field at the sound of my name. Nekauba, a spear in his hand, his chest puffed out, was staring at me. Heads turned in my direction. Women and girls were pointing, others whispering, some laughing. Nekauba boasted constantly to anyone who’d listen he’d someday join with me. Most girls loved to gossip and were only too happy to believe him and pass his claim on. They’d also infer, because I was sitting with Nykara, that I made a habit of playing around with multiple men at the same time. I hated Nekauba in that instant, for drawing unwanted attention to me.
Nekauba turned towards the field, threw his shoulders back, raised his spear with his right hand, ran towards the line. Just as he was about to release his spear he tripped over his own feet and fell face down on the ground. The spear fluttered and landed some five yards away. Abar and Inetkawes and I joined in the general laughter as Nekauba picked himself up. His chin and knees were bleeding and covered with dirt. He tried to dust himself off, then gave up and slunk away.
“Serves you right,” I whispered.
“Wasn’t your uncle going to make you join with him?” Inetkawes asked.
“Fortunately, not any more.”
“I’m so glad you’re with Nykara,” Inetkawes said loyally, glancing at each of us in turn. “The two of you deserve each other.” She put her hand on my forearm.
“I’m glad too. More glad than I can say.”
Close to seventy more men threw spears with varying degrees of success, all taking a long run from well behind the line and letting fly. Now only Rawer remained. He was Nekhen’s greatest hunter except Aboo, or so he constantly proclaimed, although he and Aboo had finished second to Nykara’s group in the impromptu competition during the elite hunt, still a source of embarrassment for him. There was little doubt Rawer was going to win today. He took up a spear, inspected it, tossed it aside, picked up another. He raised it in his right hand, took a deep breath, charged towards the line. He was much quicker on his approach than any of the other competitors had been. He loosed his spear in a high arc and it sailed a good ten feet past the previous best competitor. Rawer was mobbed by well–wishers who surged from the side of the field to surround him. Djefatsen and Herneith were among them. He’d become very popular since his joining to Abar and the implied change in his future status. That he was joined to her didn’t seem to matter to many of the elite women.
Then the crowd parted and Rawer strode through the opening towards us, a spear in his hand. He halted before Nykara, a pace or two in front of the sunscreen.
“Your turn,” he said mincingly.
“You won, Rawer. Be content,” Nykara said calmly.
A semicircle of men and women had formed behind R
awer, facing us.
“Coward,” Rawer intoned. He smiled at Nykara smugly.
There was laughter mixed with nervous twitters from the nearby crowd and the elite women who were sharing the sunscreen with me.
Nykara sighed, shrugged his shoulders, looked at me, rolled his eyes, stood, stepped from under the sunscreen, moved to where Rawer waited, took the spear in his left hand. The crowd parted so he could make his way to the throwing line. Instead, Nykara remained where he was. He stared at Rawer for a moment, then reared back and flicked his wrist and launched the spear on a beautiful high arc. I heard oohs and aahs as it seemed to sail endlessly, on and on. It landed a couple of feet past Rawer’s. A contingent of girls and women began cheering wildly, Wenher chief among them. Despite Nykara’s obvious attachment to me and his dismissal by Rawer the elite women were continuing to chase after him, particularly Wenher, even though he ignored all their advances. Rawer, his face suddenly a deep red, pushed angrily through the crowd and back towards the field.
“You warned him, Nykara,” Abar observed. She seemed particularly happy.
“I suppose I won’t be able to get out of wrestling now,” Nykara told us. “See you later.”
“Wait,” I said. I passed Shery to Inetkawes, stood, moved to Nykara’s side. I raised up on tiptoes, kissed him. “Beat them all!” I whispered in his ear.
I followed Nykara to the field where several matches were about to be contested simultaneously. I joined my cousins who were already standing close by Nekauba. They’d cheer him on; I wouldn’t. As luck would have it, he was to wrestle Nykara in the first round. Utter hatred colored Nekauba’s face when the pairing was announced; he’d wanted to fight Nykara for years. The match began. Nekauba, still bleeding from his earlier fall, began circling Nykara. Nykara simply turned slowly and watched Nekauba with the slightest hint of a smile. Suddenly Nekauba lunged at Nykara and Nykara sidestepped him and pushed his back as he passed and sent Nekauba sprawling on his face. Nekauba sprang to his feet, outraged, cursing, even more blood oozing from chin and elbows and knees, mixed with dirt and sand. He immediately charged Nykara, who stepped aside and pushed him to the ground again. Nekauba jumped up once more and began to circle, crouching low, arms extended. Nykara was toying with him. It was apparent to me Nykara was doing it to publicly humiliate Nekauba, to pay him back for years of slights and insults and condescension and ill–treatment of me. I began to enjoy myself. Before long the rest of the initial matches were over, so everyone turned their attention to Nykara and Nekauba. Women and girls hooted and howled as Nykara pushed Nekauba to the ground over and over. Nekauba got up more slowly each time, a bloody muddy mess. He circled still, obviously tiring, his hands low, gasping for breath. Then Nykara moved close and said something to Nekauba and Nekauba snapped his head around and looked directly at me. With a loud cry, he lunged at Nykara. Almost too quick to follow, Nykara shoved him and twirled behind him and picked him up by the waist to nearly shoulder height and then slammed him to the ground and fell on him, pinning him. Nykara sprang to his feet and raised his arms in triumph. Nekauba lay in the dirt, too hurt and exhausted to move.
I was elated.
The next round began soon after, followed by another, and still another. Finally, inevitably, only Nykara and Rawer remained, each having defeated all their opponents. Both were, by this time, drenched with sweat and covered with dirt and mud and sand, scraped, scratched, bleeding. As the two faced each other I didn’t doubt Nykara would win.
They took their positions, crouched, eyed each other. Rawer began snarling, hurling insults. Nykara half–smiled and ignored them. The ring of spectators moved closer and shouted and called their names and cheered – Senebi and his thugs and a handful of women supporting Rawer, almost everyone else Nykara. He was far more popular. The match began. This time, however, Nykara was in no mood to play around. He and Rawer grappled, shoved, arms entwined. Suddenly Nykara ducked and lunged with his powerful legs and jammed his shoulder into Rawer’s midsection while seizing Rawer behind his knees with both hands. Nykara raised up and his shoulder slid to Rawer’s chest and he lifted Rawer a few inches off the ground and drove forward and Rawer thudded backwards onto the field. Nykara landed on Rawer, pinned him. Only seconds had passed. The suddenness of Nykara’s victory was even more humiliating for Rawer than the marathon Nekauba had endured. While Rawer’s erstwhile friends picked him up off the ground, the majority in the crowd gathered around Nykara to congratulate him.
I pressed through the crowd. Even though Nykara was a sweaty bloody muddy mess I hugged him tight. He was the finest man in Nekhen and he was mine. I released him, handed him a jar of water passed to me by Peseshet. Nykara downed the liquid greedily. He emptied a second jar over his head to cool off. Rawer was limping off in Abar’s direction, angry, his face a thundercloud, one hand grabbing a shoulder. No doubt Abar was as pleased by Nykara’s victory as I was, though, holding her baby beneath the sunscreen, she kept her face expressionless. This was not the time to irritate her man by applauding his rival. Senebi tried to brush some of the sand off Rawer’s back and Rawer angrily slapped his hand away.
Nykara was breathing hard and sweating copiously and was filthy and to me he looked magnificent. He also had some very deep scratches and scrapes and abrasions welling blood, and bruises. “Time to put my skill as a healer to use,” I announced.
I picked up the leather pouch with my medical supplies I carried everywhere – Auntie had brought it from home and kept it safe during today’s ceremony. Nykara and I made the long walk to the river, hand in hand, mostly in silence. He never gloated after defeating a rival, and he was fairly exhausted from his efforts. We reached the line of boats tied up at the mooring place. “Into the water,” I ordered. “I need to clean your wounds before I apply my potions.”
Wordlessly, Nykara removed his torn bloody kilt, waded a few steps, dove, came up where the river was waist–deep. Water streamed from his long hair down his broad back. He began washing the sweat and grime from his face and arms. I discarded my bloodied ruined skirt and waded in after him. I too dove under the water, came up dripping beside him. I scrubbed the remaining blood and malachite from my body. Then I washed Nykara’s back, slowly, carefully, gently cleaned sand and grit from scrapes and long deep scratches with my fingertips. When I finished he turned around. I attended to his shoulders, then his chest. I looked up. Our eyes met. His longing matched my own. Suddenly he enveloped me in his strong arms, bent his head, pressed his mouth hard against mine, pulled me close. I responded eagerly. For the first time in my life I felt the warmth of skin against skin, the ache and joy of desire, then the wonder and glory and fulfillment of love.
Much much later we let the sun dry us as we lay on the riverbank, our legs entwined, my head and left arm resting on Nykara’s chest, his hand sliding from my shoulder to my hip, over and over, lightly caressing me. The slow beating of his heart matched mine. I’d never been happier or more content. “I wish it could be like this for us forever,” I said dreamily.
“I’m tired of wishing,” he replied. “It’s time for us to take matters into our own hands, Amenia.”
Nykara’s tone was ominous. “What does that mean?” I asked, instantly alarmed.
“Hemaka’s never going to let us join. He’s stalled for five years already, even though I have enough wealth and influence to be an elite. We both know Rawer’s keeping Aboo from naming me one. That technicality has been and always will be Hemaka’s pretext to keep us apart.”
I shifted so I could see Nykara’s face better, ran my fingertips across his cheek. “You don’t think Uncle ever intended to honor his promise?”
“Do you? But that doesn’t matter anymore, Amenia. I’m done waiting to be with you. It’s taken me much longer than I planned, but I’ve finally maneuvered Hemaka right where I want him.”
“Maneuvered?”
“I’ve made Hemaka dependent on me for wine and lapis lazuli and other status items the rest of the elites c
an’t obtain – not to mention his excessive share of my cargoes. He’s become rich because of me – and, of course, you. So, two mornings from now, when I come to get the final load of your pottery for my next expedition to Maadi, I’m going to claim you.”
I propped myself on an elbow, looked down at him, concerned. “What if Uncle says no?”
“I’ll tell him our partnership is over.”
“You wouldn’t!” My heart was suddenly pounding. The very thing I’d feared for so long. Losing Nykara. Uncle would give me to someone else if Nykara cut off his luxuries.
“Why should I make Hemaka any wealthier if I can’t have you?”
“You’d really give me up?” I fought against the wave of panic engulfing me. “After what we just did?”
“Of course not. Which is more likely, Amenia – Hemaka walking away from the wealth I bring him, or him letting us join so he can continue to add to that wealth?”
The answer was obvious. Nykara understood Uncle perfectly. So did I. I took a deep breath, relaxed. I leaned down, kissed Nykara. “What then? After you claim me?”
“Why, I’ll take you with me to Maadi. I haven’t waited this many years to be with you only to disappear for a couple of months.”
Maadi! With Nykara! Finally together! Everything I’d ever desired.
Hours later, after I’d finally gotten around to applying my poultices and herbs to Nykara’s wounds, we returned to the feast, walking hand in hand, blissful, in our own little world. We spent the rest of that day together, relaxing in the shade along with my family – Uncle Hemaka was quite pleased to be able to bask in Nykara’s reflected glory. I couldn’t help smile as I watched Uncle – he had no idea what was in store for him two days from now. Well–wishers stopped by to congratulate Nykara all afternoon and evening, including many of the elites. We feasted again at sunset, parted reluctantly late that night. It was as perfect a day as I could remember. I couldn’t wait to fully share with Nykara so many more, for the rest of our lives.
The Women and the Boatman Page 53