He scanned her from head to toe. “Very much so.”
She colored. “I meant the lake.”
“I know what you meant.” Suddenly, Meru wrapped both of his arms around Aya, pinned her arms to her ribs. “I’ve been waiting a long time to be alone with you like this, Aya,” he hissed. “I’ve wanted you from the moment I first saw you, waiting for me beside the river.” He bent his lips to hers, kissed her hard. At first she was too stunned to resist, then tried to squirm free, but he was too strong. One of his hands slipped to her waist, the other rose to the middle of her back, pulled her tight against him. She twisted her head, gasped for breath. He seized a handful of her hair, yanked her head backwards, regained control, kissed her again. After what seemed an eternity he released her, stepped back.
“I’m Kakhent’s woman!” she cried, eyes blazing. “You dared to touch me! When I tell him…”
“You’ll say nothing.” Meru laughed.
His cavalier attitude was infuriating. “I swear I will!” she spat.
“And I’ll deny it,” Meru said evenly.
“He’ll take my word over yours!”
“He won’t,” Meru said with certainty. His eyes narrowed. “After all, Aya, you’re the one who suggested that I lead my band to the lake. Why would you have, if you didn’t want to be with me?”
“You had nothing to do with it. Qen told me to suggest it,” Aya retorted.
“Qen? I didn’t hear him say a word about the lake when Kakhent and I were talking.”
“He mouthed it to me behind your back.”
“How convenient, that no one but you saw,” Meru chortled. “And how interesting that you acted as my brother’s mouthpiece – if you even did. In your place I would have ignored him. His opinions are worthless to me or anyone else.” Meru snorted. “Give up this clumsy attempt to shift the blame elsewhere, Aya. Or I’ll tell Kakhent that you teased and tantalized me every time you sang and danced for me and Hannu on this trip, that you tried to seduce me atop this ridge tonight, that you panicked when I refused your advances and threatened to tell him what you’d done.”
“That’s not true!”
“But quite believable – after all, its only natural that a woman like you would be attracted to a man like me, especially a woman joined to a man more than twice her age. Oh yes – I know about that. Your father told me.” Meru swept his eyes over her again, hungrily. “Surely you’ve wondered what a night with me would be like – a man young and strong and virile, not decrepit and worn out.”
Aya balled her hands into fists, dug her nails into her palm. She was appalled by the disrespect Meru was showing both her and Kakhent, the lie he was willing to tell about her. And she knew Kakhent would believe him, that all the men in her band would believe him. And when they did, her life would be forfeit. She’d fallen into a trap set by Qen and sprung by Meru. She suspected they might even have planned it together. “I won’t take any more of this from you,” she snapped, turning to leave.
Meru grabbed her by the wrist. She cried out in pain. He spun her around so they were face to face. “Oh, but you will, Aya. You’ll take this and much much more.” He leaned so close she felt his breath hot on her cheeks. “Do you want to know the real reason I’m leading my band to the lake? It isn’t to harvest grain.” He snorted. “It’s because your father has already promised you to me.”
Aya was appalled. “He has no right! I’m joined to Kakhent!”
“A man not long for this world, according to your father,” Meru said. “And once he’s dead, your father will indeed have the right.”
“And in return for him giving me to you, you’ll support him as patriarch against Kakhent’s sons,” Aya surmised.
Meru smiled. “You’re even more intelligent than I thought. Though your intelligence is not why I’m attracted to you.” His hand slid down her back, caressed her hip, her thigh.
She tried to jerk free.
He tightened his grip. “I even threw my niece Nofret into the deal. She just turned thirteen – she’ll keep your father’s bed warm. As you will mine.”
Aya was disgusted by Meru’s crassness. “And if Kakhent disappoints you, and doesn’t die? What then?”
“I’ll settle my people at the lake and wait until he does. A year, two years… time’s on my side, Aya. You won’t escape me.” His eyes narrowed, grew hard, his voice harsh. “If you tell anyone about what just happened, or if you resist me at any time before we’re actually joined, you’ll pay dearly on the night you finally come to dwell in my hut. And I’ll see to it that my son makes your daughter suffer too.”
Aya slapped Meru with her free hand.
He laughed.
She slapped him again. “You’re a coward and a bully!” she cried. “Do you have to threaten women to feel like a man?”
“No threats – just friendly advice,” Meru said condescendingly. “You really are quite spirited, aren’t you, Aya? I’m going to enjoy breaking you. Promise me that you’ll resist for quite a long time.”
“I hate you!”
“You’ll change your mind, eventually. Anyway, our being together is inevitable now. I decided we’d be together the moment I set eyes on you, and so we will.” With that he yanked her close once more, kissed her, stroked her all over with his rough hands.
Later, when he’d finished with her and departed for camp, Aya stumbled down the ridge to the lake in the darkness, ripped off her loincloth, plunged into the water, scrubbed her body with sand until it was red, tried to wash Meru’s touch away. Then she sat on the shore in the starlight and hugged her knees to her chest and cried – hot tears of shame and anger and disgust and hatred. She wanted to kill Meru. She wanted to tell Kakhent what Meru had done so he’d kill Meru. But what Meru had said this night was true – Aya couldn’t tell anyone what had happened, for they’d take his word over hers, and she’d pay the price for it, and so would Ahaneith. Unfortunately, what Hannu had told Meru was true – Kakhent truly was looking more frail as the months went by. He probably didn’t have many more years to live. And even if he had more than she expected, Meru had vowed to wait as many years as it took to have her. So now it was not just her sister and daughter who were in danger from these barbarians – so was she. Life among Meru’s people would be intolerable. Life with Meru himself would be intolerable.
Aya suddenly recalled her dream. The falcon god had showed her sitting amongst her children, happy, content, a man she loved at her side. She’d always known Kakhent was not that man. She’d assumed she’d find him once Kakhent was dead. But now joining with Meru loomed in her future. She knew he wasn’t that man either. And she knew he was far too young for her to expect she’d outlive him, finally find a third man who would make her happy. If the falcon god’s dream was to come true, it was up to her to somehow escape Meru.
But how? Her father had already bargained her away – again – because he expected to succeed Kakhent as patriarch and would on that day have the authority to arrange her life. He’d just sold her to Meru so that Meru would support him as patriarch against the claims of Kakhent’s sons. I won’t accept that fate, Aya told herself fiercely. I’m the chosen of the falcon god. I have power in my own right. I am going to have to wield it. The answer to escaping Meru is straightforward – if Hannu won’t rescind his bargain with Meru, I’ll throw my support to one of Kakhent’s sons to succeed him, Paser, or whichever of the others will agree to let me live my life as I choose. That’s all the leverage I need.
As for the immediate future, Aya vowed never to be caught alone by Meru again. That meant no more wandering about by herself in the lake country, as she loved so much to do. She couldn’t endure another encounter like this one. Meru had just effectively put her in a cage. Aya was more unsettled now than ever. She supposed that the peace she’d known before encountering these strangers was lost to her forever. She knew there was no getting it back.
5440 BC: Ta–she – Shemu (Harvest)
Aya carefully picked her way through the
tall grass of the moonlight–drenched savannah, aiming for the distant point of light that marked her brother Iuput’s solitary campfire. She carried with her the evening meal for him and Wetka’s sons, who were watching over the cattle and sheep and goats. She was unaccompanied only because Hannu was visiting Meru before his rude tent of animal skins this evening, so there was no chance of the barbarian patriarch waylaying her. So far she’d been able to avoid him since the incident on the hilltop five days ago, although it had not been easy. The moonlight tonight was so bright that as she passed cattle huddled close together she could make out their individual features. A mile south, to her left, the lake glimmered – vast, sparkling silver, as wide as the horizon. Numerous fires glowed along the shore where the two bands shared a temporary camp, the point from which she was walking.
So far, according to what she’d overheard Meru tell Kakhent, the lake region had exceeded his expectations. Even though he’d come to the lake simply to gain Aya, he’d said, the lake country was a far better place for his people than the eastern wadis. That, at least, gave her a bit of comfort. Maybe it wouldn’t be so hard to convince him not to leave if in fact she ended up joined to him. At any rate, not a day had gone by without Menna bringing Ahaneith a fat animal he’d slain for her; the savannah was alive with game at this time of year. Menna was a regular guest at Hannu’s nightly campfire now, to Ahaneith’s delight. Hannu openly encouraged the boy. The wild game Menna brought freed Hannu from personally having to hunt to feed Aya and her daughters and himself. However, listening to Menna’s boastful and clearly exaggerated tales of his hunting prowess during those nightly encounters reinforced Aya’s belief that the boy was not right for her daughter. She thought Menna was far more interested in the pursuit of and beating out his cousins for Ahaneith’s hand than in what would come after. It was not, however, a sentiment that Hannu seemed to share, nor Ahaneith for that matter.
Aya adjusted the earthenware cooking pot balanced on her left shoulder and continued towards Iuput’s camp. He was solely responsible for the band’s herds, and had been for the last decade. None of Kakhent’s people was as good at choosing which animals to breed, and helping mothers deliver their young, and overseeing grazing and watering and milking and blood–letting. The herds had tripled in size under his stewardship. As always, Iuput had been in charge of driving the sheep and goats and cattle from the river to the lake, assisted by Intef and Isu and a few well–trained dogs. The men watched the herd day and night, guarded it from predators, carried brimming pots of milk to camp early each morning. Suspiciously, as far as Aya was concerned, Qen had joined Iuput on the first day of the return journey and accompanied him ever since. Aya was certain that Qen’s supposed interest in the herd masked some ulterior motive for spending time with Iuput, for what reason she couldn’t figure out. Iuput had assured her that Qen was merely curious about the animals and likely, because he moved at their speed, thought to mask his disability from the rest of Kakhent’s band. Aya thought Iuput was being naïve. Qen had tricked her into suggesting that Meru lead his band to the lake; she was certain he was planning other deceptions. She was keeping as close an eye on him as she could, hoping to upset whatever plan he was hatching to prevent it from coming to fruition.
Aya neared Iuput’s fire. It blazed just beyond a grove of acacia trees, lighting the underside of the leaves, casting shadows, sending orange sparks skyward. She stepped into the ring of firelight. Iuput was seated cross–legged on the far side, mending the wooden crook he used to control his sheep. Nearby were the rolled up sleeping mat he carried with him as he traveled, and a vessel for milk. He heard her, looked up expectantly. Disappointment colored his features.
“Expecting Hemetre?” Aya teased.
That her brother was as interested in Hemetre, the eldest of Qen’s nieces, as she was in him was by now well–known to everyone in both bands. The girl had brazenly sought out Iuput in the herdsmen’s camp many evenings, both beside the river and on the journey to the lake. Aya was glad; she’d never seen Iuput so happy. She really liked the girl too; there was a sweetness and innocence about Hemetre that won over anyone she spent time with. In fact, Hemetre had already become friends with all three of Aya’s girls. Aya often wondered how someone as special as Hemetre could have an uncle as disappointing as Qen.
“I was, actually,” Iuput admitted.
Aya set her pot down, hunkered beside the fire, placed the vessel on a bed of coals, stirred its contents. Then she drew a jar of beer and loaves of bread from a leather pouch and arranged them atop a flat rock to one side. “Are the boys still with the herd?” she asked.
“They’ll come in one at a time to eat and catch a few hours of sleep.”
“The cripple too?”
“You mean Qen?”
“Do you know any other cripple?” Aya asked scathingly.
“Why do you dislike him so, Sister?”
Aya laughed. “Qen’s the least likeable person I’ve ever met.” Except for Meru, of course. “He even stands out among the barbarians. He’s devious.” She couldn’t tell Iuput about Qen manipulating her to suggest that his band travel to the lake – that would lead to too many questions she wasn’t prepared to answer. “Haven’t you noticed – his own people have nothing to do with him. You should hear Meru disparage him.”
“I have. And believe me, he does it simply because Qen is a better man.”
Aya snorted. “Really? He’s certainly got you fooled, Brother.”
“Menna will expect Ahaneith to be meek and obedient once they’re joined. He gets that from his father.”
“Just as Kakhent expects of me, and you’ll expect of Hemetre. That’s how men treat women.”
“I won’t. And Qen wouldn’t,” Iuput replied. “He lets his sister, Semat, live on her own terms, even though he’s the head of her family. If he had a woman he’d give her that same freedom. He told me so.”
“If that were true – and I sincerely doubt it – I wouldn’t willing join with Qen if he was the last man on earth. Though if I was forced to be with him he wouldn’t dare try to control me. I’d overwhelm him. He’d be afraid to stand up to me. He doesn’t stand up to anyone. He’ll never amount to anything. That’s why no one likes or respects him.”
“I do, Aya. So should you. You need to look beyond Qen’s physical shortcomings,” Iuput lectured. “He’s smart. He has qualities you haven’t guessed at. And he thinks you’re smart too.”
“I don’t care what Qen thinks about me,” Aya snapped. “I don’t trust him one bit. If you’d been at Father’s fire the night he and Meru first met you wouldn’t either. He was abrasive, combative – he nearly set our bands against each other.”
“How?”
“He accused our animals of stripping the valley clean.”
“They did, Aya. Where they grazed no wild grasses were left standing. You know that.”
“It was how Qen said it,” she retorted, frustrated that Iuput was taking Qen’s side.
“We’ll just have to disagree about Qen, then,” Iuput said. “But what about Menna – what do you think of him?” he asked.
“Menna’s arrogant, boastful, full of himself. He thinks he’s better than everyone. He may be a great hunter, but hunting is all he knows or cares to know.”
“Lucky for you. He did save you and Ahaneith from a viper,” Iuput noted. “I’ve heard the tale often enough.”
“A ridiculous one he’s embellished with every retelling!” Aya exclaimed disgustedly. “If Menna hadn’t stopped us on the path we would’ve passed right by the snake without incident. And he leaves out of his story that I could have killed it just as easily as he did.” Her hand strayed to the handle of her knife.
There was a noise under the trees. Aya spun around. She saw Qen. No telling how long he’d been standing there, leaning on his staff. No telling how much he’d overheard. Every word she’d said, she suspected. Anger surged through her.
“Join us,” Iuput called cheerfully.
<
br /> Qen moved into the ring of firelight, guiltily, Aya thought. He glanced at the meat bubbling in the pot, the chunks of bread laid out on the rock, the jar of beer. He crossed to Iuput’s side, set down his staff and crook and flail and forked stick, dropped his quiver and bow, sat with his bad leg extended to one side.
“Spying again?” Aya accused, locking her eyes on his.
“No,” Qen said. “Isu’s taking the first watch. I was coming to the fire to eat.”
“The evidence suggests otherwise,” Aya snapped. She crossed her arms over her chest. “I suppose you heard everything I said.”
“Just the part about my nephew,” Qen replied.
He was lying. She could see it in his eyes. He’d overheard everything, including her opinion of him. Good. Let there be no misconceptions between them. “Well, I don’t take any of it back,” she said defiantly.
“You hold Menna in far higher esteem than I do,” Qen said simply.
Iuput laughed and slapped his thigh with his hand.
“Frankly, if Ahaneith was my daughter, I’d keep her away from Menna,” Qen told Aya.
“Why?” Aya asked. “Jealous?”
“Why would I be jealous of my nephew?” Qen asked.
“Because he has the attention of my daughter,” Aya snapped. “Tell me, Qen, don’t you want to pursue her yourself?” She knew the answer. But she had an overwhelming desire to hear him admit it, to embarrass him, to humiliate him. It was cruel of her, Aya knew. But Qen deserved a bit of cruelty. He was untrustworthy. He’d tried to cause trouble between the bands and was continuing to try. He’d spied on her atop the plateau and again tonight. He’d manipulated her.
Qen placed his palm flat on his crippled leg. “I couldn’t catch her if I tried,” he said lightly.
Iuput laughed again and clapped Qen on the shoulder.
Qen gazed into the darkness. “I had no expectation of ever being joined to anyone before I met your band, Aya. I have none now,” he said resignedly. His eyes met hers. “Besides, I’d never force myself on a woman who didn’t want me.”
Daughter of the Falcon God Page 14