By the time Aya returned to her girls their pouches were full of ochre and they were thirstily drinking from the waterskins they’d carried with them. Their fingers and forearms were coated with the red substance, and their thighs and loincloths as well.
“See what I found!” Aya exclaimed.
They gathered around and she opened her pouch and showed them the shells.
“Come with me. I want to show you something else,” Aya said.
She led the girls another half mile to the northeast. She paused on the lip of a small but deep depression in the plain, overgrown with grass. “This is where I found the talisman,” she told her daughters.
“The day the falcon god appeared to you?” Betrest asked.
Aya nodded. “He gave me this land. He’s watched over our family ever since.” Aya put her arm around Ahaneith’s shoulders, drew her near. “Someday I’ll pass the talisman to you,” she said. “You, in turn, will pass it on to your firstborn. When you do, tell the story of its crashing to earth and its finding by me. Tell her that the talisman was sent by the falcon god so we’d know he is our family’s god. Tell her you were the second to bear this talisman, and she’s the third. That way this talisman and its meaning will be preserved by our family for all time. Through this telling and retelling we’ll continue to honor the falcon god, and, perhaps, our names will be remembered, and we’ll live forever.”
It was already dark when they reached camp. Aya unhappily discovered Meru waiting beside her fire. She had a sinking feeling in her stomach. The last time they’d been completely alone had been at the delta. He’d promised her then she’d eventually be his, told her that Hannu had bargained her away. No doubt he’d come to remind her of that agreement.
“Walk with me,” he said, in a voice that was an order, not a request.
There was no putting Meru off. Aya set her girls to making dinner, then joined him.
They walked in silence onto the peninsula, then crossed to the lake side where there were no prying eyes, to the grove of trees that overlooked an extensive patch of reeds. Aya couldn’t help trembling. Ever since Kakhent’s death she’d known this day would come. She still hadn’t figured out how she was going to prevent it. She was fairly certain about what Meru was about to say, and probably do. Above her the stars cut a great wide brilliant swath, arcing across the center of the heavens, a celestial river mirroring the one she wandered beside for a few months each year. The moon was rising in the east, so bright it was beginning to wash the stars in that part of the sky away, its light dancing silver on the lake. The air was pungent with the scent of water and mud. A warm wind sighed in the dom palms, rustled the patch of reeds that stood in their shadow. Aya heard animals prowling, frogs croaking, the occasional splash of a fish, the chittering of birds settling down to sleep. She looked over her shoulder, glimpsed a dozen distant fires twinkling in her camp, and another dozen, Meru’s, separated from hers by the basin.
Meru stopped at the edge of the beach, just beyond where the water rhythmically lapped. “I’m going to approach your father in a day or so about our joining right away,” he said without preliminary.
“I’m surprised you’ve waited so long,” Aya said without enthusiasm.
“I thought you deserved a mourning period.”
“How generous of you.”
“There’s no sense waiting until the festival,” Meru continued. “I’m sure Hannu will agree. He can’t wait to take Nofret to his bed, after all. I’ve seen how he looks at her.”
Aya was certain Hannu would agree to Meru’s request, not only because he’d get Nofret and immunize himself against Kakhent’s sons, but because giving her to Meru would eliminate what little responsibility Hannu had for her and her girls’ sustenance. Aya kicked at the sand with her foot. She simply couldn’t become Meru’s woman. She thought back to her first joining. She’d been terrified of Kakhent. She’d been a child, not knowing what to expect from life with a man already old. But she dreaded life with Meru because she knew far too well what to expect from him. If Kakhent had only lived a few months more she would have been spared this indignity happening so soon. But he hadn’t. Still, she had no intention of meekly submitting to Meru.
“We have to wait until the festival or we’ll offend the fertility gods,” Aya pointed out.
Meru snorted. “Your gods, not mine. I don’t care. Hannu doesn’t strike me as someone who’ll care either.”
“But I will!” Aya said.
“You’ll get over it.”
“If you try to force me to your hut at any point before the festival, I swear by the gods that I’ll throw my support and that of the falcon god to Paser, make him our patriarch,” Aya warned. Pitting Kakhent’s oldest son against her father was the only possible way to block Meru. “He and his brothers will push my father aside without hesitation. The agreement you made with Hannu for me will no longer stand.”
“Go ahead,” Meru said. “Betray your father. I’m sure I can come to the very same agreement for you with Paser that I did with Hannu.” Then he seized Aya, took her in his arms. He was strong, his arms hard and muscled, his chest broad. She knew it would be better for her if she acquiesced, but it wasn’t in her nature to surrender without a fight. She kicked at Meru’s shins, tried to jerk free. In response Meru tightened his grip, pulled her closer. “Excellent!” he exclaimed, smiling broadly. “I prefer my women fiery. Though our situation is much different now than it was the first time we were together.”
“You mean at the delta, when you pawed me and did things to me against my will and predicted Kakhent’s death and that you’d have me for your own? When he still lived and I still belonged to him?”
“I didn’t think it would be a scorpion,” Meru admitted. “Your father assured me then that old age would soon do Kakhent in.”
“Kakhent was stronger than you gave him credit for.”
“Not strong enough to take me to task if he’d found out about us,” Meru replied.
“There was no us,” Aya spat.
“Nonetheless, you were wise to heed my advice and not tell him and risk suffering my wrath, as things have turned out.”
Aya recalled how Meru had threatened to punish Ahaneith, the warning that had bought her silence. “You were so sweet and respectful that night,” Aya said sarcastically. “What was there to tell?”
“Maybe I was out of line,” Meru admitted. “I remember how you fought me, and with reason. I swear I went to the hilltop just to talk to you, Aya. But once I saw we were alone I couldn’t control myself. You have that effect on me. I wanted you more than I’d ever wanted anyone. I still do, now more than ever.” He brushed the hair back from her face, traced her lips with a finger. “I’ve never seen a woman as beautiful as you. When I’m with you nothing else matters.” He bent his head, so that his breath was hot on her cheek. “And blessedly, there’s no sense in you resisting me anymore.”
She turned her face away from him. “Except that I can’t stand you!”
Meru laughed. “You’ll change your mind about me, in time.”
She was desperate to escape him. She grasped at straws. “I’ll talk my father into refusing you!”
“You really think your father would go back on his agreement with me? He wouldn’t dare. He’s a weakling. He’s counting on me to stave off Paser.”
“We both know you’re going to lead your band away from the lake once we’re joined,” Aya said. “The day you leave, Father’s fate will be sealed. He hasn’t figured that out yet. He’s too dense to see what’s staring him in the face. At least, he will be until I explain it to him. You think he’ll keep his word then?”
Meru seized Aya by the hair, jerked her head backwards.
She cried out, as much in surprise as pain.
Meru forced her to look at him. “If you warn Hannu and he goes back on our agreement I’ll unleash my people on yours,” he snarled.
“My band has a dozen men and boys old enough to fight. You have eigh
t. You won’t conquer us,” Aya said defiantly.
“We won’t have to,” Meru replied. “We can simply slay or drive off your animals. We can destroy your fields. We can burn the contents of your storage bins. You can’t possibly protect fields and beasts and your homes all at the same time with a dozen men. Your people are vulnerable, Aya. You have too much to protect to launch an attack on us. I have nothing to protect. Face it, Aya – I can easily end your way of life. By the time I get done with your people, they’ll have no choice but to become hunters and gatherers again. Your precious farming and herding days will be over. And it will be your fault – all because you refused to join with me. Are you prepared to live with that knowledge the rest of your days?”
Hatred surged through Aya. She wanted to beat the smugness out of Meru with her fists, to run screaming into the night, to escape the fate she could not escape. Meru’s threat was serious and all too real. He could destroy her people’s way of life, ruin everything they’d built up over the past dozen years at the lake. Knowing she could have prevented it and hadn’t would haunt her. But so would giving in to Meru. She wasn’t going to. She was going to fight him with all her might until she could fight no longer. “You’re right,” Aya said ambiguously, relaxing her body, desperately hoping Meru would let down his guard.
He smiled, loosened his grip somewhat.
He’d made the mistake she hoped he would. Now Aya could move her arms the slightest bit. In one quick motion she snatched the flint knife tucked in the waistband of Meru’s loincloth and pressed the length of the blade hard against his side.
“You wouldn’t dare!” Meru snarled.
A quick shallow slicing motion drew blood.
Meru released her, stepped back, held his palm over the wound. “I thought you’d be eager to join with me!” he cried angrily. “You haven’t had a real man for so long – if ever. Guess my first task once we’re joined – after I punish you for what you just did – will be to awaken you from your long sleep.”
“I’m two months pregnant with Kakhent’s child,” Aya said with all the dignity she could muster, knife firmly in hand, pointed at his belly. “I’ve hardly been asleep.”
The sharp intake of Meru’s breath told her she’d shocked him.
“That old man? I didn’t give him enough credit!” Meru exclaimed. “But no matter,” he said dismissively. “Our band can always use another child. And this one will tie our two bands together. You can fight against it all you want, Aya, but your father agreed to give you to me, and I’m holding him to it.”
You can try. “If it’s a boy I’ll name him after his father,” Aya announced. Though, if the dream sent to me by the falcon god comes true, I’m destined to bear a fourth daughter.
“Call him whatever you want.” Meru shrugged. He reached into a leather pouch attached to his loincloth with his free hand and pulled out an object. “I brought you something.” He held up a strand of cowry shells. “I collected them the last time I was at the seashore.”
Aya understood their significance. Cowry shells protected a woman’s fertility. The reason Meru wanted her to have them was obvious.
“We’ll have many babies together,” he said. “Sons to hunt with me. Half a dozen at least, enough – along with your girls and my sons – to care for us in our old age. And many more times that grandchildren.”
“We won’t,” Aya retorted. “Keep your shells.”
Meru slipped them back into the pouch. “You’ll wear these before long, Aya. Soon you’ll be a patriarch’s woman again. We’ll put these to good use then. Count on it.”
***
Three days later Meru appeared at Hannu’s fire after the evening meal. As usual, Aya’s girls had waited on their grandfather. He’d summoned Aya to attend him as well, to discuss arrangements for the upcoming festival.
“I need to speak with you, Patriarch,” Meru informed Hannu.
“Go back to our hut,” Aya told Takhat and her daughters. She had a sudden ache in the pit of her stomach. Meru could have come to see her father for only one reason. She knew the next few moments were critical to her future. Meru expected that he and Hannu would seal her fate tonight. Somehow she had to prevent or at least delay it. She wasn’t about to let these men force her into the next and likely final stage of her life, and have it not be one of her choosing.
Takhat looked at Aya quizzically, set the bowl she was holding in her hands on the ground, herded Ahaneith and Betrest and Pageti away.
Aya fetched a stool for Meru from beside Hannu’s hut and placed it facing her father. Meru sat. Aya remained standing, halfway between the two men.
“I’ll get to the point,” Meru said. “I want you to join Aya to me right away, not wait for the inundation festival. In return I’ll send Nofret to you tonight.”
Hannu smiled, drained the last of his beer, tossed his cup aside. It rolled a little way in the dirt. “I’ve been expecting you to ask,” he said.
“We did agree to the exchange months ago.”
Now was the time to disrupt the transaction. “It’s an unequal exchange, Father,” Aya charged.
Both men stared at her, surprised she’d interject herself into their discussion.
“Nofret’s a child of thirteen,” Aya said dismissively. “In no way does she compare to me. I’m far more than just the woman of a dead patriarch. I’m the band’s healer. I direct the work of our band’s women. I ration our stored grain. I control all aspects of raising our emmer and barley.” She touched the talisman around her neck. “Above all, I’m the falcon god’s chosen one. I’m not someone you should give away so lightly.”
“Lightly? I’ve supported your father against Kakhent’s sons,” Meru told Aya angrily. “He’s patriarch because of me!”
“Your support is irrelevant,” Aya retorted. “You’re not a member of our band. As long as Father has my backing, Paser won’t move against him. Unlike you, Paser and his brothers fear the falcon god – the god I speak for.”
“This is nonsense!” Meru cried. He turned to Hannu. “You couldn’t wait to get rid of Aya months ago, and you still can’t. I’ve seen how she’s struggled to support her girls ever since Kakhent’s death. She’s feeding and clothing them without any help from you. You can’t now claim she’s valuable to you.”
“How I deal with my daughter is between her and me,” Hannu sniffed.
Meru picked a twig from the dirt at his feet, tossed it into the fire, raised his eyes to Hannu’s. “I wonder if Paser would set aside his so–called fear of your gods for the chance to be a patriarch.”
Hannu bristled. “Are you threatening to align yourself with Paser against me?” Veins were suddenly standing out on his neck.
“Why not, if he’ll make the same deal with me that you’re apparently backing away from? Based on what I’ve heard, Paser wants to be a patriarch very badly,” Meru replied. “He feels you cheated him out of his legacy. I’m sure his three brothers would support him against you if he asked.”
“It’s too late for that now,” Hannu snapped. “I’m firmly in charge of my band. My brother will support me against Kakhent’s sons. And I control Aya. As she said, that gives me the backing of the falcon god.”
“Stop this ridiculous posturing,” Meru said, shaking his head. “You gave Aya away once, in order to succeed Kakhent. You’ve already promised to give her to me for the same reason. Tonight you want even more. I get it. You’re greedy and grasping and untrustworthy. So stop wasting my time. Name your new price.”
Hannu pondered for a moment, then laughed. His eyes narrowed. “Acknowledge me as your patriarch, Meru. Merge your band with mine. I’ll give you Aya right now.”
Aya gasped. She knew her father was greedy, but she hadn’t known how greedy. Or how clueless. She knew what Meru would answer even before he spoke.
“I will not,” Meru said, his voice clipped. “We both know you’re the lesser man. My people will never follow you. Yours barely do.”
Aya was c
ertain that Meru wouldn’t be throwing fuel on the fire if he feared Hannu in any way.
Hannu was infuriated. “You have my answer then – no!” he practically screamed. “You can’t have Aya at all! I’ll give her to Hunefer instead! She was all too willing to let him paw her when she was still a girl.”
Aya was appalled. She blushed deeply. Let Hunefer paw her? Nothing was farther from the truth.
“You argue that Aya is valuable to your people,” Meru said calmly, now that he’d successfully provoked Hannu and gained the upper hand. “If that’s true you’ll never let Hunefer have her – that would give you no personal advantage. But give Aya to me and I’ll promise to remain at the lake permanently, back you against Paser for as long as you live. I won’t bow down to you, but you can have access to Aya any time you want. She can keep doing for you what she does now.”
Aya was shocked that Meru would promise so much. In essence, she could continue to lead her current life. He must want her very much indeed. She feared her father would weaken, give in.
“You’ll stay at the lake, become a farmer?” Hannu queried, surprise in his voice.
“Of course not. I’ll live as my people always have, by hunting and gathering. That’s always been my plan. Kakhent and I agreed before his death that he’d supply my people with grain in exchange for meat if I settled here.”
Daughter of the Falcon God Page 22