After moonrise, Aya went with her daughters and the rest of the band’s women to bathe in the lake. It was a long hike now from camp to reach water that a few months before had been only paces away. The moon path reflected on the lake and a warm breeze stirred the water slightly. Aya smelled of smoke and fish and she waded until she was neck deep and scrubbed herself clean. There was considerable laughter and splashing as the women celebrated together a fruitful day. Aya noticed movement beside the water’s edge off to the west; a herd, likely ibex, had come down to drink. No doubt hunters from each band were stationed on its flanks now, preparing to shoot.
Aya waded back to land and sat to let the breeze dry her and watched her three girls play in the water alongside Takhat. Then Aya realized that her family was separated just a bit from the other women. Normally she wouldn’t have thought anything of it, but after what Semat had said about her being an outcast it took on new meaning. Aya had no idea if the other women were deliberately slighting her family or subconsciously ostracizing them. Everyone else bathing in the lake, after all, was descended from Kakhent except Aya and her sister and Tabiry. She wondered if her family would face the same ostracism if she ever became Meru’s woman. He might bluster and say she wouldn’t, but he couldn’t really control the women in his band when it came to such things.
“What are we doing tomorrow?” Ahaneith asked as she emerged from the water onto the beach along with Takhat and Pageti and Betrest. They sat on either side of Aya.
“We’re making pottery.”
“To trade for meat?” Ahaneith queried.
“Among other things.”
“I won’t have to anymore, after I’m joined to Menna,” Ahaneith sniffed. “He told me so. He’s a great hunter, like his father.”
“So is Khay,” Takhat added.
“You may lose Menna and Khay someday, just like I lost Kakhent,” Aya cautioned. “Never forget, girls – the skills I’ve taught you are important. Someday you may have only yourselves to count on to survive.”
After sunset barely a week later Aya slowly made her way along the fringe of the marsh that lay between the two camps, through tall dried–out grasses dancing in a gentle nighttime breeze, her path lit by the moon rising in the east. The lake to her right was so shrunken that yesterday the last trickle of water had disappeared from the inlet between the lakeshore and peninsula, leaving behind a dry cracked channel. But soon, Aya knew, with the coming of the inundation, the lake would begin to swell, ultimately overflowing its usual banks and covering the fields where her people would plant emmer and barley, briefly turning the ridge where the camp was located into an island. The awful heat would break and sunset winds would blow cool and fresh above the water. Months later, after the flood fully receded, there’d be dew on the grass each morning and dappled clouds in the blue sky. That’s when her band would sow their seed. But few in her band, if any, were thinking about the future planting today. They were focused on the coming inundation. Anticipation was in the air. For Qen, returning yesterday in his boat from a cobble–seeking expedition, had reported that the water in the channel that emptied into the delta at the southeast corner of the lake was beginning at last to rise. That meant that somewhere far to the south the god of the inundation had sent forth the waters so vital to the survival of all those gathered at the lake. So tomorrow Aya’s band would begin celebrating the three–day festival that marked the start of the new year. Tomorrow, the dispute between Hannu and Meru would come to a head and either be quietly resolved or publicly revealed. Aya whispered a prayer that her father would remain strong.
Just after dawn Aya had set snares in the marsh on a game trail leading to the last stagnant pool of water that remained in the mostly dry bed of the stream that meandered from the lake through the once–extensive wetland. Now she was bent on retrieving her catch, so she’d have a contribution for the first day’s feast. She was passing through waist–high grass near a bone–dry section of the stream when she heard voices not far ahead. She stopped, crouched, listened, instantly curious. It was unusual for anyone to be in such a secluded spot at this time of night. She looked around cautiously, saw no one, began making her way slowly and silently through the grass, doing her best to keep it from rustling and betraying her presence. It was not easy, as dry and crackly as the grass was. The voices gradually grew louder, distinct. Aya reached clumps of dry reeds that lined the streambed. She carefully peered between them. She recognized Meru and Menna and Khay, sitting cross–legged together in the moonlight near the boulders where she’d set her snares, ten yards away.
“You’ve learned all there is to know about herding and planting?” Meru asked.
“Yes. Aya held nothing back.” Qen stepped from behind a boulder where he’d been hidden from Aya’s view. Something’s going on, and Qen’s part of it, she whispered, her heart beginning to pound. Treachery was afoot. All these months of Qen claiming he hated Meru, her finally believing him after talking with Semat, and now here he was, planning something with Meru. He obviously had been conspiring with Paser too. The two of them looking out for their children’s welfare – a lie! And she’d fallen for it. Clearly, they were preparing to displace Hannu, or they wouldn’t be meeting like this in a marsh at night. Maybe Qen had been different once, when he’d saved Semat from the crocodile. But no more. He’d changed since then, deceived his sister, deceived her. Aya’s original impression of Qen had been right. He was a liar and who knew what else.
“Excellent. I won’t have to rely on Hannu’s people to care for crops and animals,” Meru said with satisfaction. “You’re going to be in charge of both from now on.”
“We’re going to adopt the lake band’s lifestyle?” Qen asked. “That’s good news indeed, Brother. I’ve already scouted several areas where we can plant grain. And I’m sure Iuput will give me enough animals that we can start our own herd.”
Aya was confused. Maybe this meeting wasn’t sinister, as she’d initially assumed. Meru appeared to be talking over routine arrangements with Qen and his youngest sons. It seemed her efforts to convince Meru to adopt her lifestyle had actually paid off. That implied he was going to yield to her father tomorrow, acknowledge him as his patriarch, settle permanently at the lake. That would be good for Takhat and Ahaneith, once they joined with Khay and Menna. Unfortunately, it also meant she’d be joined to Meru. She was going to lose her freedom. It was too late for her to work with Paser to overthrow her father as patriarch. And, Aya reflected, if Meru was putting Qen in charge of his crops, that implied she wouldn’t be any more. She felt her face grow red with anger. Meru was obviously going to relegate her to making babies and looking after his needs, not doing what she loved to do and did best. And she’d made it possible, by freely teaching Qen everything he now knew about growing emmer and barley. She was certain that taking over from her had been Qen’s intention from the very beginning. I hate you, she whispered.
“Not a few animals, and not just some of their seed,” Meru corrected. “All of it. I’m taking over the patriarchy of Hannu’s band.”
Aya gasped in spite of herself, ducked down. She held her breath, waited a moment, peered through the tall grass again. No one had heard her. She let her breath out. She was stunned. She’d been right – treachery was afoot. Meru was even more devious than she’d thought. He’d decided to do exactly what Hannu had tried to do – merge the bands. Only he was going to make Hannu and her people subservient to him instead of vice versa. Aya wondered if doing so would even have occurred to Meru if Hannu hadn’t tried it first. Somehow, the turnabout seemed almost fitting.
“Hannu has agreed to you replacing him, Father?” Khay asked.
“He knows nothing of it. In fact, some months ago he demanded that I submit myself and our people to him as patriarch, in return for Aya.”
“Incredible!” Menna interjected. “You refused, didn’t you?”
Meru nodded. “But he knows how much I want Aya. I’m sure he expects I’ll change my mind tomor
row, give in to his demand at the last minute.”
“Surely you won’t!” Khay exclaimed.
“I’m going to demand that Hannu yield his place to me tomorrow, during the festival. I’ll catch him off guard. He’s weak. Aya has told me so. So have his cousins. They envy him, despise him, don’t trust or support him. I’ll press him hard. He’ll concede.”
“What about his people? You expect them to simply abandon Hannu and recognize you as their patriarch?” Menna asked.
“Let me explain something to you, Son,” Meru said. “You too, Khay. If either of you expects to be a patriarch someday, you need to learn to recognize the sources of power in your world and how to seize and manipulate them. Now, Hannu’s band and ours control roughly the same amount of territory around this lake. That means our bands have an equal opportunity to prosper. Hannu’s people have staked their futures on the fields they’ve planted and the animals they’re herding. We’ve staked ours on continuing to hunt and gather. Because of the bounty of this lake country, each of our bands can thrive equally in these two different ways.”
“You just said I’d be in charge of planting and herding,” Qen interrupted. “And you’ve said our people will continue to hunt and gather. Those are two different things. Are we going to continue to live as we have, or change?”
“We’ll live as we always have,” Meru replied. “The people who are now in Hannu’s band will labor in the fields and watch the herds on my behalf. You’ll oversee them.”
Which means Takhat and Ahaneith and I will live just like the barbarian women. The hope that had so briefly flickered to life in Aya’s heart died.
“Back to power,” Meru said. “For one band to dominate the other, it needs an advantage or two. What advantages does Hannu have over me right now, do you suppose?”
Menna and Khay looked at each other blankly.
“Hannu has years’ worth of grain stored in bins in his camp,” Qen said quietly.
“Yes!” Meru exclaimed, pounding his left fist into his right palm. “That grain inoculates Hannu’s band against want, if there should be a poor inundation at the lake. Because Hannu controls the distribution of that grain, he would be the most powerful man at the lake in a time of drought. So, how do you suppose I can counter his advantage?”
“We could grow grain and store it in bins of our own,” Menna suggested.
“We could – if I wanted to turn us into farmers, which I’ve already said I don’t,” Meru said. “And it would take years to establish crops and fill bins with enough grain to match what Hannu already has stored. No, the correct answer is for me to capture a share of Hannu’s agricultural bounty without investing any of my resources in producing it. This I have already done.”
“How?” Khay asked.
“Kakhent agreed to give us emmer and barley in return for meat. Hannu has to honor his uncle’s promise. So we will continue to hunt, as we would anyway, get grain in return, and nullify one source of Hannu’s power.”
Aya marveled at Meru’s deviousness, at the amount of thought he’d obviously put into his plan to overthrow Hannu.
“What else gives Hannu power?” Meru asked his sons.
Again, blank stares.
“Aya,” Qen said.
“My half–brother is correct again,” Meru said. “Aya is her band’s healer. She wears a talisman that everyone believes was given to her by the falcon god. Everyone believes she is the falcon god’s chosen one. She performs all the rituals that connect her people to their god. She is in charge of her people’s crops, and controls the activities of Hannu’s women. There is no one as important in Hannu’s band, not even him.”
“And you intend to take Aya, whether Hannu gives her to you or not,” Qen guessed.
“She’s already agreed to join with me,” Meru said. “She’s enthusiastic about it. In fact, for all practical purposes, we’re already joined.”
Aya was furious. She wanted to rush from cover, confront Meru, call him a liar to his face. Enthusiastic? Agreed? Lies! She hated Meru. For him to mischaracterize his treatment of her in the way he was doing was criminal. She clenched her fists, fought to control her impulse to lash out at him. She had to remain in hiding. She couldn’t put a stop to whatever it was Meru was planning unless she knew exactly what he intended to do. Better to get her revenge when he wasn’t expecting it than confront him now and lose that advantage. Besides, if he discovered she’d been listening to him plot with his kinsmen, he’d probably just drag her off to his hut tonight and keep her there.
“Do you really believe Hannu’s people will think about grain and Aya if you demand that Hannu yield to you, Father?” Khay asked. “Won’t that make them want to defend him? I’d want to defend you if the situation was reversed.”
“Of course it will. So, to make it an easy choice for them, I’ll announce that I won’t allow the joining of anyone from our band to anyone from theirs unless Hannu yields to me,” Meru said smugly.
Aya was not surprised that Meru would use the joinings as leverage. She’d been expecting it. That could be a blessing for those she loved – but only if her father held firm and refused Meru. She despaired of her father having the strength to resist Meru if it came to that.
“Father!” Khay protested. “You wouldn’t!”
“I will indeed make the threat,” Meru chuckled. “The boys in Hannu’s band will have exactly the same reaction you just had. What do you think they’ll care about more – laying with our girls, or remaining loyal to Hannu?”
Aya was appalled at Meru’s crassness.
“He could order his boys to join with their cousins instead of us,” Qen reminded him. “That was Kakhent’s plan before we stumbled on his band.”
“Are you opposing me, Qen?” Meru asked sharply.
“Of course not, Patriarch,” Qen said evenly. “I’m just pointing out their possible reaction. I assume you’ve thought of contingencies?”
“Of course I have. Anyway, Hannu is not Kakhent,” Meru replied. “He has no vision of the future for his people.”
“Ahaneith would never settle for one of her cousins instead of me, Uncle,” Menna interjected, addressing Qen. “She’s told me so often enough. She says she can’t live without me,” he boasted.
“Takhat’s told me the same thing,” Khay added.
Aya was appalled again, that the two of them would speak about her daughter and sister so cavalierly to their elders.
“But what if Hannu doesn’t agree, even after you threaten to deny our girls to his boys, even if his people protest his decision?” Qen pressed.
“Then you’ll slay Hannu’s animals,” Meru said, his voice clipped. “Every last one.”
Qen did not react.
Aya was shocked but not surprised. Meru had made the same threat before, to her directly.
“I’ll do whatever I have to in order to be patriarch of that band!” Meru spat. “If Hannu resists me, the blood of the animals that you spill will be on his hands, Qen. He’s the one his people will blame for their loss.”
Aya couldn’t believe Qen wasn’t objecting. So much for his claim he’d come to love her band’s animals and lifestyle. And she couldn’t believe how brutally cold–hearted Meru was being. He expected that she’d willingly join with him now after he’d revealed his true colors?
“What if Hannu’s people still refuse to go along after Qen kills their animals?” Khay asked. “They can survive without them. It might make them even more stubborn.”
“Then you and Menna will burn all the emmer and barley they have stored in their bins.”
Aya drew in her breath sharply. Killing the animals was one thing. Her people could survive without them. But grain was entirely different. Meru was threatening her people’s very existence. Again.
“Once you’re patriarch of both bands, what about Hannu?” Menna asked. “After he yields to you, you surely can’t let him live.”
“A scorpion has worked twice,” Meru replied. “It’ll
be time for a third.”
Aya felt as if she’d been physically struck. Meru had just admitted to murdering both Kakhent and his own father, just as Qen had charged. He was even more cold–blooded than she’d credited. She realized that this plot to become patriarch of her band had not been prompted by Meru recognizing that chance had given him the opportunity to push aside the elderly Kakhent and then her weak father. He’d planned this takeover months ago, probably the very day he’d assaulted her on the hilltop overlooking the delta, figuring out how the pieces would fall into place, realizing how he could take advantage of her people, no doubt with Qen’s and Menna’s and Khay’s assistance. What was going to happen tomorrow was his plan’s fruition, not its beginning. Aya couldn’t believe that Qen wasn’t reacting to Meru’s confession, or that Meru had so openly taken credit for multiple murders. Meru must have promised Qen something major in return for his silence and assistance. That made Qen just as guilty of murder as Meru as far as she was concerned.
Meru addressed his sons. “As soon as the joinings are announced tomorrow during the festival I’ll demand that Hannu step aside. Be prepared to act immediately if he doesn’t. And you, Qen? Will you need help carrying out your task?”
Qen shook his head no. “I’ll return to the herd after we’re done here, as usual. In the morning I’ll volunteer to watch the animals by myself, like I did during the harvest festival. I’ll send the others to camp,” he answered calmly. “Since I’m not to be joined to anyone, no one will be suspicious or think it out of the ordinary. I’ll act upon your signal.”
“Excellent.”
“I’ll always do what’s best for our people,” Qen responded.
In that moment Aya hated Qen with every fiber of her being. And she hated Meru. And she hated Menna and Khay and all the rest of the barbarians. I will not spend the rest of my life among them, she vowed. I won’t let them have Ahaneith or Takhat or anyone else I love either.
Daughter of the Falcon God Page 27