Daughter of the Falcon God

by Mark Gajewski

  “Most of your family are children, though, Qen,” Aya pointed out. “And all of the adults are women, except for you.”

  “And I’ll be useless if it comes to a physical confrontation between the bands, now or in the future,” Qen said matter–of–factly.

  “It’s not much of a plan,” Aya complained.

  Iuput looked at Qen, shrugged his shoulders. “Do you have a better one?” he asked Aya.

  “No,” she admitted. “But I’d be less uneasy if there was someone in our band for Qen to pledge fealty to who’s more competent than Father to lead us. Make no mistake – we’re going to be starting a long–term conflict with the barbarians. We might defeat Meru tomorrow, but he won’t leave the lake until he gets what he wants – our band, and me. All three of us know that Father won’t stand up to him for long.”

  “You should make Father join you to someone tomorrow, to at least give Meru the illusion that Father will never surrender you to him,” Iuput said.

  “To whom? Hunefer?” Aya scoffed. “He’s the only available man in our band.”

  “Qen.”

  Aya stared at her brother. “Why would you even suggest that?” she asked, incredulous.

  “You just said Meru won’t give up until you’re his,” Iuput answered. “You just said Father’s weak. Given enough time, he’ll hand you over to Meru. All it will take is a big enough bribe or a vicious enough threat. Or, Meru could just kill Father. The only way I see to stop Meru and Father from using you is for you to be joined to someone right away. Qen’s the only person who makes sense.”

  Aya shook her head no.

  “Be practical,” Iuput said. “Who’s going to care for you in years to come, Sister, bring you and your family food, watch over your children when you have your baby and afterwards? Father? You know he won’t. His excuse will be he has to take care of Nofret and someday their children. And I’ll have a family of my own to provide for.”

  “I can take care of myself,” Aya replied stubbornly.

  “Not forever.”

  Aya gazed into the darkness. That she was even sitting here on the savannah, a mile from the lake, trying to save her people, was due to her. She’d followed the falcon god south. She’d talked her people into coming to Ta–she. After that, the power that should have accrued to her had been taken away. Aya sensed that this was the last opportunity she’d ever have to gain control over her own life. She wasn’t about to let it pass. “The falcon god called me to this country,” Aya said crisply. “He showed me a prosperous land, and many prosperous people. He showed me a vision of myself enveloped in happiness. But that’s not how my life has played out. I’ve always been controlled by men – Bek, Hannu, Kakhent, Hannu again. None of them cared about my happiness. They cared about gaining my power and using it themselves. Now, Iuput, you want me to surrender myself to Qen – for my own good, you say.” This situation called for bluntness, not diplomacy. “But if I do, once again I’ll be yielding my happiness to the needs of another – and that a man I frankly can’t stand.”

  If her words stung Qen, he didn’t betray it by any expression.

  “I’ve spent my whole life subservient to others, yet I’m special,” Aya continued. “Otherwise, why would the falcon god have chosen me? No, Iuput, it’s time for me to create my own destiny. I’m done living for others.” She turned to Qen. “I appreciate that our plan depends on you recognizing my father as your patriarch,” Aya said. “I hope you still will, despite my rejection of you, despite our personal dislike for each other. But I won’t be joining with you or anyone else tomorrow. From now on, my life belongs to me.”

  “I’ll play my part, as I’ve already promised,” Qen said. “As far as us not being joined, I completely agree with you, Aya, though for a different reason.”

  She was surprised. That he should be rational, not hurt or hostile, was unexpected. “Why, then?”

  “Meru would claim that you’re my reward for yielding my family to Hannu. He’d say Hannu has used you to buy power once again, at the expense of Kakhent’s sons. He’d rile them up. In the heat of the moment, they’d rebel against Hannu, fracture your band. Meru would step into the breach. We’d lose. More importantly, you’d lose.”

  What Qen said made sense. “So, what reward do you expect in return for abandoning your people and joining mine?” Aya asked, suspicious. Since Qen was the one who’d brought up a reward, he must have something in mind. He certainly wasn’t going to pledge fealty to Hannu out of the goodness of his heart.

  “None.”

  Aya snorted. “You must want something.”

  Qen thought for a moment. “From now on, Aya, give me the benefit of the doubt, instead of thinking the worst of me right away.”

  “That’s it?” she asked skeptically.

  “I’d say it’s a lot, considering you just tried to kill me.”

  “Good point.” Aya’s eyes bored into his. “I’ll try, Qen. It won’t be easy for me. I don’t promise anything.”

  “I understand. I have to earn your trust. So, let’s get on with it,” Qen said forcefully. “We have a lot to do before dawn. It’s not many hours from now.”

  Iuput bent and retrieved Qen’s staff and handed it to him.

  Qen struggled to his feet. “For the record, Aya, I don’t dislike you.” Turning, he hobbled off into the darkness.

  That’s hard to believe, after the way I’ve treated you since the day we met. Aya caught herself. I guess this is where I have to start giving you the benefit of the doubt. I was right – it’s not going to be easy for me.

  “Qen’s going to scatter the herd, along with the boys who are on guard,” Iuput told her. “The two of us need to hide as much seed as we can before daylight so we’ll be able to plant a crop next year.”

  “I truly hope Qen’s on our side, that he’s going to do what he just promised,” Aya said. “After what I saw and heard earlier tonight, I don’t completely trust him. I have to believe that, despite what he said, somewhere deep down I’ve offended him by rejecting him. That’s human nature. I’m afraid he’ll change his mind between now and the festival.”

  “He won’t,” Iuput said with assurance. “After this is all over, I still think you should join with Qen. Our band would truly prosper if the two of you would set aside your differences and work together.”

  “We don’t have to be joined to do that.”

  “No, you don’t. At least, right up until Father gives you to Meru.”

  ***

  Aya refilled Meru’s and Hannu’s cups with beer. The afternoon had grown late and everyone had been celebrating the inundation festival in the camp atop the ridge since dawn. The two patriarchs were sitting in the shade before Hannu’s hut, apart from the rest, silent, rarely even looking at each other, the tension between them palpable. Both wore ostrich feathers in bands around their brows, and each carried the symbol of their office – Hannu a crook made of tamarisk, Meru a tall staff. Hannu had a bull’s tail fastened at the back of his loincloth and Meru had a lion’s pelt draped over his shoulders. Aya had insisted on attending the two men herself, and for good reason; her father was practically unable to function in light of the news she’d carried to him the previous evening. Neither she nor Iuput had told him about the steps they were taking to save the band from Meru. They couldn’t – Aya feared Hannu would say something to give the plan away, or in the worse case warn Meru in an attempt to curry favor with him. Naturally, her presence aroused no suspicion in Meru; he expected her to attend him, especially with their presumed joining imminent.

  The orderly huts of Aya’s people were spread over a fifty–yard section of the ridge overlooking, to the south, a field of stubble and the peninsula and the narrow deep pool between them that was all that remained of the inlet. The lake itself shimmered far in the distance. The huts were simple shelters of animal hides and reeds and rushes, each with a hearth in front of it from which smoke lazily spiraled. The spaces between the huts were crowded with beaut
iful baskets expertly woven in a variety of rhythmic patterns in different shades of reeds. A few ostrich shells full of water were interspersed among them, as were the flat dark stones women used to grind emmer into flour to make bread, and piles of dung and small branches gathered to feed the fires, and earthenware containers brimming with beer and milk and fruits and vegetables. There were racks to dry fish at the foot of the ridge, and on the hardened flats south of the peninsula, barely visible through the date palms, Qen’s boats rested. The channel between lake and inlet that Qen usually traversed when setting off on a fishing expedition was completely dried up.

  Aya noted that all of the women and girls of her band were dressed in their finest linen loincloths, bedecked with necklaces and bracelets and girdles, the beads made mostly of bone or ostrich shell or shining stones. She herself wore only her talisman as decoration. Most of the women and men and the youngest children were gathered at the far end of camp, eating bread and fruit and the meat of a crocodile that Paser and Wetka had slain the day before. The older boys were clustered at the very center of the ridge where, to the music of drum and reed flute, Takhat and Ahaneith and Tiy and Kheti were dancing, their hair unbound, necklaces and shell girdles clacking as they swirled across the grass and dirt. Watching, Aya remembered a time when she’d been the best dancer in the band, the most graceful, the most acrobatic. Despite her age, she still loved to dance and sing. Hemetre was dancing too; Ahaneith was teaching her the steps. She alone of the barbarian girls was participating. Hemetre was catching on quickly, stumbling occasionally, laughing, tilting her face to the sun, swirling with abandon. Aya could tell that she was filled with pure joy. And why not? Iuput and Hemetre expected to be joined tomorrow night. They were truly in love. Aya wished that just once she could experience that for herself.

  Seeing everyone’s happiness, Aya wished she hadn’t overheard the barbarians talking, didn’t know about Meru’s plan. At least this day wouldn’t have such a bitter cloud hanging over it for her. Whatever was going to happen wouldn’t happen until the sun went down and the ceremony honoring the gods concluded. That’s when Hannu and Meru would clash. The waiting was torture for Aya. It seemed to her that the sun was barely moving across the sky. Yes, there was a plan to stop Meru, but so much had to go right for it to succeed that she hardly expected it would. Far too much of it relied on Qen. As far as she knew, he’d deceived her and Iuput and had already slain her band’s animals. At least she and Iuput had secreted enough emmer and barley seed that her band could raise a crop after the waters of the inundation receded. But, in the end, that might not even matter. If Qen betrays us, if Father gives in, I’ll belong to Meru. I’ll never plant at the lake again. Mine will be a miserable, unhappy life – but so will his. I’ll never stop making him pay for diminishing my people, for murdering Kakhent. If I’d known Meru’s plan a week ago I’d have taken Takhat and my girls and stolen Qen’s raft and headed for the river. But now its too late. She put her hand on her belly. She hoped now her child would be a boy instead of the girl promised by her dream. Someday, she thought, you’ll have to avenge us and punish Meru for his crimes.

  The dancers were closely circled by the boys of both bands and the girls of Meru’s, some clapping along in time to the music. Aya spotted Semat and the rest of Qen’s family, sitting with others from their band, partaking of the feast. Unbeknownst to them, it was likely for the last time, if Qen indeed followed through and pledged his fealty to Hannu. Qen himself was nowhere to be seen; Aya expected that, for that’s what Meru expected, and Qen’s presence here instead of with the animals would make Meru suspicious. She just wished she knew what Qen was actually doing. Had he scattered the animals, as Iuput believed he’d done, or was he waiting for Meru’s signal to slay them? Was he working hand in hand with Meru, or with her?

  Hannu was sweating heavily and downing cup after cup of beer, growing more morose by the hour. That was, for Aya, a sign that he had given up and planned to acquiesce to Meru’s demand. She had to make sure he didn’t before the ceremony started. Otherwise, she’d never even have the opportunity to launch her plan. She could scarcely bring herself to look at Meru, had to use every bit of self–control she possessed to smile graciously and keep from trembling when he called on her to serve him food or drink. He’d murdered Kakhent. He was going to deprive her people of everything they had. He was about to take her as his own. All in a ruthless quest for power.

  “Tell me about the ceremony,” Meru ordered Aya.

  “As is tradition, tonight Father and I will make offerings to the god of the inundation,” Aya replied, forcing a cheerfulness she did not feel. “We believe, as your people do, that he lives far to the south, in a land where no one has ever visited.” She indicated orderly rows of reed baskets and earthenware jars. “When the moon rises we’ll cast emmer and barley upon the surface of the lake, and fruit and vegetables, and pour in milk and beer and blood. That will assure the god sends a strong inundation.”

  “The joinings will be announced after that?”

  “Yes.”

  “And the fertility rites?” Meru asked pointedly, sweeping Aya with his eyes.

  She blushed. “We’ll honor the falcon god and the fertility goddess tomorrow night,” Aya confirmed. “We’ll make offerings to them in the fields, where they hold sway. Afterwards, each of the couples to be joined will stand before me. I’ll pour water from an earthenware jar over each person’s head – I’ll dip my talisman in the water beforehand, to impart the falcon god’s blessing. I’ll present each woman with a fertility charm, also blessed by my talisman. Then, those who are newly joined will go to their huts together for the first time.”

  “My boys have already erected theirs, and I’ve noted that yours have too,” Meru told Hannu. “Surely that is a sign from the gods that what stands between the two of us will be reconciled this very evening, and that our men and girls will be able to use them.”

  Aya marveled at Meru’s duplicity. If I hadn’t overheard Meru plotting last night, I’d interpret his remark as an indication that he plans to give in to Hannu’s demand to recognize him as patriarch. So would Father. But I did overhear him. Meru is cagey. He speaks vaguely enough to give Father hope. He’s deliberately trying to lull Father into complacency, build up his hopes. But little does Meru know that both of us know he intends to force Father to recognize him as our patriarch. And little does Meru know that Iuput and Qen and I intend to stop him.

  ***

  The offering ceremony began the moment the moon appeared above the eastern horizon. The men and boys of Hannu’s band, along with Meru’s, led the way down the ridge and across the dried mud flats to the edge of the lake, where feeble waves lapped. They formed lines opposite each other. Some held blazing torches, their light shimmering on the water’s surface. Hannu, adorned with what had once been Kakhent’s headdress of ostrich plumes, led a procession between the lines. Behind him, singing, Aya and the other women and girls carried baskets of grain and fruit and tubers and jars of beer and blood and milk, balancing them on heads and shoulders. Aya couldn’t help thinking this was both the first and last time Hannu would lead such a celebration if her plan to stop Meru failed, and it’d be the last such she’d orchestrate. She was certain that Meru would make her people give up their gods if his takeover of her band was successful, make them worship his instead. He’d been non–committal before; with ultimate power, she was sure he’d convert everyone at the lake to the traditions of his ancestors. As the end of the procession passed, those watching in the lines fell in behind. Hannu reached the shore and turned towards the crowd, his back to the water. The girls and women fanned out in a semicircle facing the lake; the men and boys gathered behind them.

  Hannu raised his arms. “O god of the inundation, who causes the waters to rise and bring new life to our lake, we offer you the best of what we have in thanksgiving for last year’s inundation, and beseech you to grant another exceptional inundation this year to those of us who dwell on this la
ke.”

  Aya carried her basket of emmer to Hannu and handed it to him. She bowed. He turned, at the exact spot where the moon path shone silver on the lake, and dumped the emmer into the shallow water with a swish. He turned, handed the empty basket to Aya. She resumed her place. Takhat stepped forward, then Kheti, then Aya’s girls and the rest of the women and girls until all the offerings had been made.

  Then Hannu beckoned Meru, and Meru joined him beside the shore, facing the combined bands.

  “Tomorrow we will honor the fertility goddess and the falcon god, who bring life to the earth surrounding our lake and children to our women. It is, for those of us who live in this camp, the traditional day of joining men to women, though that has not happened for many years.”

  “That is about to change,” Meru declared, his voice ringing. “Many months ago Kakhent and I agreed that our children who are of age will be joined.”

  Aya could hear excited murmurs and whispers all around her. It was what everyone had been waiting for these many months. She saw Meru smiling at her smugly. She stared back, kept her face impassive.

  “But first, there is but one small detail,” Meru said cheerfully, his voice carrying to the edge of the crowd.

  Hannu cringed. For months he’d dreamed of this moment, Aya knew, the moment he’d demand fealty from Meru in return for Aya, and Meru would give it. He’d pictured his band doubling in size overnight, of taking Nofret to his hut, of ridding himself of Aya for good, of receiving the acclaim of the assembled multitude. But Aya’s warning last night had shattered that dream. Now it was gone, blown away like smoke in a fierce wind. Hannu knew Meru was about to make his counter demand.

  It was clear to Aya that Hannu would acquiesce. The time had come for her to set in motion her and Iuput’s and Qen’s plan. In a few moments she’d either belong to Meru or be free of him.