Aya laughed. “Seriously? You’d only join with a woman who loved you?”
“Why would I want to live with someone I made miserable?” He shrugged his shoulders. “It’s a moot point. No woman’s ever had the slightest desire to be with me.”
“What if your patriarch ordered you to join with someone?” Aya pressed.
“We both know Meru won’t,” Qen said.
Aya suspected that in this instance Qen was speaking the truth.
Qen struggled to his feet. “I’ll let you be alone with Iuput. You’ve family matters to discuss, I suspect. I’ve no wish to disturb you.” He bent to grasp his staff. “I’ll come back to eat after you’re gone.”
Aya stared at him for a moment. She almost took him up on his offer, thought better of it. She’d brought dinner for the herdsmen; the least she could do was let him eat it. She wasn’t a barbarian after all, like him. “Sit,” she directed. She turned back to the pot, knelt, ladled stew into three bowls. She passed them around, then the bread, then poured three cups of beer.
They fell to eating, the silence broken only by the crackling of the fire, and the wind rustling through the trees and grass, and the hum of insects, and the croaking of frogs from nearby wetlands. It had been long since the midday meal and Aya could tell that both Iuput and Qen were famished. Herding was hard hot dusty work. They emptied their bowls and she refilled them. Aya did not look at Qen even once during the meal. She hoped he’d return to the animals as soon as it was over.
“You promised to tell me about the lake country,” Qen reminded Iuput as he finished his second bowl and set it aside.
“Let Aya,” Iuput said, still attacking his stew. “We live there because of her. The falcon god himself led her to it.”
“Really?” There was no mistaking the awe in Qen’s voice.
Did Qen fear the gods? That was useful information. Aya touched the talisman dangling around her neck. Iuput had just given her an opportunity to impress upon Qen how important she and her people were to the falcon god. Maybe that would make him think twice before plotting against her any further. “This talisman was sent to earth in a fireball one night by the falcon god,” she began. “He appeared to me the next morning in the guise of a falcon. He flew south from where I was camped. I followed him to the crater this talisman had made, dug it up. Then the god led me even farther south, to the lake country, a land where none of my people had ever been, a land where no one else lived. He gave it to us. It’s been ours for the past thirteen years – more than half my life.”
“We believe Aya is the chosen one of the falcon god,” Iuput interjected. “He’s given her the gift of healing, and the talent to oversee the growing things that keep our people alive.”
“I’m not surprised he’d choose you,” Qen said.
Aya wasn’t interested in his opinions, or his compliments. “You want to know about the lake? We live on a ridge overlooking it, about a hundred yards to its north, beyond a flat plain. There’s a peninsula just south of our camp, shaded with palm trees. Great flocks of waterfowl usually occupy the surface of the inlet formed by the peninsula. There are three great basins east of our camp, each surrounded by marshland and plains and ridges and connected to the lake by streams. When the inundation comes, the lake spills over its banks and deposits fresh soil on the lowlands near the basins. That’s where you’ll find plenty of grain growing. When the waters recede, fish are trapped in the basin, and we catch them by hand. The marshes and patches of reeds are full of birds and small animals that we capture with snares. We use the reeds to make our huts and baskets. There are two great wadis that empty into the lake from the north. One leads in a northwesterly direction, the other northeasterly. We have hunting stations a day’s journey from camp on each wadi, for herds use the wadis when they travel to the lake. North of our camp is savannah, marked with many ridges, dotted with groves of fruit–bearing trees, alive with every type of game imaginable. In short, the lake country is a paradise.”
“One you’ve seen fit to share with us,” Qen said. “For that I, at least, am grateful, on behalf of my family.”
“So, Qen… was Aya telling the truth about the viper – that she could have killed it?” Iuput asked as he too set aside an empty bowl.
Aya stared into Qen’s eyes, daring him to contradict her claim.
“I’ll tell you what I told Hannu,” Qen said. “Aya’s knife was in the air the same instant as Menna’s arrow. If he’d missed, her knife would have slain the snake. I’ve never seen anyone react so quickly.”
“I told you,” Aya declared triumphantly.
Iuput shrugged. “So Menna embellished his tale, Sister. What boy doesn’t exaggerate to get the attention of the girl he desires?”
“Is that what you’ve done to impress Hemetre?” Aya asked. “Exaggerate?”
Iuput reddened but did not answer.
“Why should he?” Qen asked loyally. He turned to Iuput. “I consider my niece lucky that the two of you will be joined. I’ll be proud to call you nephew.”
“And I to call you uncle,” Iuput replied. “And friend.”
“Hemetre at least will no longer be a barbarian after she and my brother settle in together,” Aya said. “I’ll see to it. Though I have no hope of you ever changing.”
“Barbarian? You think you’re superior to me just because you’ve domesticated some animals? Our bands aren’t that different,” Qen said defensively.
“They are. You can’t even conceive how much,” Aya snapped.
“You think herding sets you apart?” Qen shook his head in disbelief. “You’re as pompous and arrogant and superior as Meru.”
She didn’t miss the slam. It infuriated her. “It’s the truth – we’re better than you,” Aya said coolly. Herding was not all that was different about her band. That they planted crops when and where they pleased and controlled their world was what was truly special about their lifestyle. Something Hannu had, thankfully, not revealed to Meru.
“You move fast enough for my cattle, Qen,” Iuput observed cheerfully. “Perhaps you should be a herdsman.”
“Perhaps I should.”
“Wouldn’t Meru object?” Aya asked.
“As long as I stay out of his way Meru doesn’t care what I do,” Qen answered.
“He would have if you’d succeeded in setting our bands against each other that first night, as you tried to do by accusing us of ruining the grasses in the valley.”
“I didn’t accuse. I stated a fact. And only because Meru forced me to in front of everyone.”
“Liar! You delighted in it. Otherwise you would have pulled Meru aside and told him privately – not in a crowd, not in such a way as to embarrass my people.”
“I tried, Aya, beside the river. You heard him refuse to listen to me.”
“You didn’t try hard enough,” she rejoined. “Then later, it was obvious you wanted to make my father feel guilty, make him feel indebted to your people. Why I haven’t yet figured out – but I promise you I will.”
“Waste your time if you want,” Qen replied.
“Don’t act so innocent,” Aya snapped. “Don’t you remember tricking me into suggesting that your people come to the lake?”
“Tricking you?” Qen asked. “I gave you a way to solve a mutual problem. You were quite happy to jump on it.”
“What problem?” Iuput asked, looking back and forth between Aya and Qen, clearly baffled by the discussion.
“Ask Aya,” Qen said.
“He’d boasted he could find places to harvest a sufficient amount of grain for his band in the valley, all the while fearing he couldn’t. So he manipulated me into suggesting that his people come to the lake with us. That way he didn’t have to deliver what he’d promised Meru, and if it turns out that the wild grasses are insufficient at the lake he won’t be held responsible. He’s absolved himself of blame if the harvest is poor, shifted it to me.”
“Trust me – my suggestion had nothing to do with
harvesting grain,” Qen said icily.
“You really expect me to believe that?”
“Like I said, I was solving a mutual problem. And yours had nothing to do with grain.”
Aya reflected that her concern had been preventing the immediate joining of Ahaneith to Meru, and separation from her. But Qen certainly had no such concern. She was getting more than a little tired of his cryptic statements.
Qen looked in every direction, lowered his voice. “Actually, I don’t expect you to believe or trust me. Nothing is as it seems with my people. Trust none of us, Aya – not Menna, and especially not Meru.”
“Does your patriarch know you disrespect him, work against him?”
“If he did I doubt he’d care. I’m nothing to him. Anyway, Meru’s not what he seems. He hasn’t revealed his true face to your father – or you.”
Qen had no idea of just how much of himself Meru had revealed to her. She already knew the depths of his depravity. “Have you revealed your true face, Qen?” Aya asked. “You tell me to trust no one, but you apparently expect me to trust you when you warn me against your own people.”
Qen shook his head. “Trust me least of all, Aya.”
Compliance with that would be easy. “Count on it.”
Qen abruptly rose, picked up the implements he’d set aside. “Thank you for the meal, Aya,” he said stiffly. “It was wonderful.” He paused. “And I was being petty when I said you were like Meru. You’re not.”
“So I’m inferior to him?” Aya bristled. Typical male attitude.
“No. He’s inferior to you,” Qen said emphatically. He turned to Iuput. “I’ll send Isu and Intef in to eat and sleep. I’ll take the first watch. See you in the morning.” He strode off into the darkness.
An hour later, after Isu and Intef had satisfied themselves, Aya cleaned up and gathered her belongings and bid Iuput goodbye and set out for her camp. Tonight’s exchange with Qen had reinforced her opinion that he was petty and vindictive and devious. He had as low an opinion of his own people as they had of him. And now she knew him to be a liar as well, without the courage to confess the real reason he’d suggested that his band come to the lake. How had her people gotten mixed up with these barbarians? Qen and Meru – both devious, both liars, both threats to her and her family. Somehow the pending bond between her band and Meru’s had to be broken, before there were any joinings. But how? What could she, a woman, do? If she tried, would she be going against the will of the falcon god? He was the one who had shown her more bands settled on the shores of the lake. She suddenly wondered if Meru might actually be the man in her dream. Was he destined to give her a fourth daughter, and then a son? The very thought turned her stomach. She gazed up at the stars, those mysterious lights where the gods dwelt at night, whispered a prayer that they’d give her the strength to keep her people separate from Meru’s. She took an uneasy breath. That unsettled feeling that had come upon her at her first meeting with Qen was seeping deep into her bones.
***
Two days later the travelers approached the basin nearest the ridge camp a few hours before sunset. Aya was walking at the head of the group, to Hannu’s left, carefully keeping her distance from Meru at her father’s right. Nofret trailed Hannu by a few steps; ever since the departure from the lake Meru had made sure the girl accompanied Hannu to see to his needs. Aya felt sorry for her; no doubt Meru had already told her she was promised to Hannu. She seemed resigned to her fate, even though Hannu was well more than three times her age. That attitude probably served Nofret well; Aya had observed that no woman in Meru’s band dared challenge him or his decisions.
The slow–moving group had already passed the two easternmost basins. Iuput had broken off with the animals at that point, driving them directly north to their regular pasture on the savannah beyond the first range of low ridges. Qen had gone with him. By that time Aya had spotted several columns of smoke spiraling skyward from the point where the creek that drained the westernmost basin emerged from the marsh to empty into the lake. She expected Kakhent was waiting there to meet the newcomers, for she’d sent Isu racing ahead at dawn with word of their pending arrival.
“I expect our patriarch will give you the area around this basin for your band,” Aya told Meru, pointing to the northwest. “The basin itself stretches about a half–mile from east to west and three–quarters of a mile from north to south. It never goes dry. It’s shores are ringed with marshland. You’ll find all kinds of reeds there to construct huts, and birds and waterfowl and small mammals to hunt. There’s a large marsh at the southern end of the basin, perhaps a mile long, reaching all the way to the lakeshore. It’s bisected by a creek that links the basin to the lake. In many places the creek widens into small pools, all brimming with fish. When the lake level falls in the months before the inundation the mouth of the creek dries up, trapping a multitude of fish in the marsh. Your women will be able to catch them by hand. A ridge curves around the north and east sides of the basin – that’s the best place to locate your camp. Your huts will remain well above the inundation.”
They approached the east bank of the creek. Aya saw that a feast had already been laid out there. Her sister Takhat was tending one of the fires, and the women of Kakhent’s sons were bustling about, arranging various platters and bowls and containers. Kakhent stood in the shade of a willow tree off to one side, leaning on the crook that signified his authority, ostrich feathers bound to his brow and a lion’s pelt draped over his shoulders. He was flanked by Paser and Siese and Bebi and Hunefer and Pimay. They too were dressed in their finery. Aya led Meru directly to them.
“Patriarch, this is Meru, patriarch of his people. They’ve traveled all the way from the eastern sea to our lake. Meru, this is Kakhent, patriarch of my people… and my man.” She said the last pointedly.
“You are welcome here at our lake,” Kakhent said in greeting.
“I thought Hannu and Aya had exaggerated its advantages when they first told me about it,” Meru replied. “I was wrong.”
Kakhent smiled. “As you can see, we’ve prepared a feast for your people. Have them set aside their burdens, and relax, and taste for themselves the bounty of our land. There’s a separate feast for the two of us a little apart, so we can talk. Aya, attend us.”
Aya didn’t miss the angry look that crossed Hannu’s face. He was not happy that he who had “discovered” Meru’s band was being excluded from the upcoming discussion. Serves him right. Aya smiled at her father, then trailed the two men to where three leather seats had been set up in the shade of a grove of acacia trees on the bank of the stream a dozen yards north of the lakeshore. A cluster of bowls filled with fruits and tubers and vegetables, and platters of bread waited on the ground next to the seats. As the two men settled in, Aya hastily filled cups from a jar of beer and handed them to the patriarchs. Meru drained his immediately and Aya refilled it.
“That’s a fine lion pelt,” Meru told Kakhent admiringly.
“I have a dozen,” Kakhent laughed, “and the scars to prove it.” He indicated a long white line on his right calf. “When I was younger I was my band’s best hunter. I’ve got a dozen aurochs tails to go along with my lions.”
From his boasting, Aya could tell that Kakhent was somewhat intimidated by this younger, obviously stronger patriarch. Seeing Kakhent and Meru side by side, she couldn’t help note how much her man had declined in the past decade. Once he’d been just as vital as Meru. The fulfillment of the deal Hannu had made to give her to Meru seemed suddenly all too imminent and certain.
“I’ve also slain a dozen lions,” Meru said, dipping into a bowl filled with pieces of melon. “Though I’ve rarely had the chance to hunt aurochs.”
“Very dangerous beasts,” Kakhent said, ripping in two a chunk of bread. “I’ll have one of my sons show you the trail they use when they visit the lake. There’s nothing quite like slaying an aurochs.”
“I’d welcome the chance,” Meru said.
“Tell me ab
out your band,” Kakhent said.
“We wander between the river and the eastern sea,” Meru replied. “The savannah there is laced with deep wadis that are grassy and dotted with pools of rainwater. We usually move at the pace of whatever herd we’re hunting. When the grasses ripen in the valley we go there and gather what we can for a few months, then head back east.”
“You have men and girls of an age to be joined?” Kakhent asked.
“Five men. Five women. I’ve already promised my niece Nofret to Hannu.”
Aya did not miss the look of irritation that passed across Kakhent’s face. That Hannu had taken a patriarch’s prerogative and arranged a joining on his own, and for himself, was a clear usurpation of Kakhent’s authority. She expected Kakhent would have some harsh words for Hannu before the day was done.
“Aya tells me you have seven men and four girls of an age,” Meru said.
Kakhent nodded.
“My father sought another band to exchange women with for many years. I wish he’d lived long enough to see this lake.”
“Iry, Meru’s father, died a month before his band reached the river,” Aya interjected.
“Accept my condolences,” Kakhent said.
“Thank you.” Meru munched a tuber thoughtfully. “I’d like to consummate joinings between our bands as soon as possible,” he said. “Let the women start making the babies we need to assure our futures.”
The discussion with Hannu at the river obviously hadn’t convinced Meru to delay the joinings, Aya thought. She wondered why he was in such a rush.
“My band traditionally joins men and women at the end of our inundation festival,” Kakhent replied.
“But that’s half a year from now,” Meru protested. “Much too long to wait.”
“I must insist,” Kakhent said firmly. “That’s when our fertility gods bless the joinings. Otherwise, there might be no babies. We dare not offend our gods. Besides, a few months will give us time to see which men and women are the best matches.”
Daughter of the Falcon God Page 15