“The inundation was below average at the lake this year too,” Aya said. “The soil left behind covered less area than usual in our fields. So we simply planted additional fields closer to the lakeshore. But even if the inundation had failed entirely, it wouldn’t have mattered.” She pointed to the line of storage bins strung out on the crest of the ridge to the north. “Each of those bins holds eight hundred pounds of grain. We could survive on what we’ve already stored for years.”
Inkaef was clearly impressed.
“Where is your band from, Patriarch?” Siese asked Inkaef.
“When we’re not in the valley we wander the wadis east of the river, well to the south of where Qen found us, and spend a month or two along the seacoast.”
“Same with my band, only we travel farther north,” Nebet said.
“Do you have women and men of an age to be joined?” Aya queried. That was, after all, one of the main points for wanting more bands to settle at the lake.
“Seven or eight,” Nebet answered.
“A dozen and a half,” Inkaef added.
“And I have four,” Aya said. “So we’ll be able to link our bands together in short order.”
“If we are to stay, where shall our bands set up camp?” Nebet asked.
“My people utilize this ridge and the marsh surrounding the basin just to our east,” Aya said. “I recommend that you settle the basin east of that, Nebet, and you, Inkaef, the one farthest east. You’ll both find ridges overlooking your basin on which to erect your huts. They’ll stay dry on the heights when the inundation comes. The marshes surrounding each basin are full of waterfowl and fish and other creatures, and they contain all the materials you’ll need to erect huts, make fires, construct rafts and the rest. There are flat plains between the basins and the lakeshore where you can plant grain next season.”
Aya noticed women burdened with platters and earthenware containers carefully winding down the ridge to the lakeshore. “And now, it seems the food for your people is ready. While they eat, the two of you and the heads of my family will join me atop the ridge in my camp for a special feast. There’s a good view of the country from there. After we eat I’ll show you the bins where we store our grain. Then we can tour our fields.”
Aya led the way uphill, flanked by Iuput and Inkaef. Qen and Nebet walked a few steps behind, moving much slower than the others due to Qen’s leg. The family heads followed them.
“You’re sure Aya doesn’t belong to anyone?” she heard Nebet ask Qen. She assumed Nebet hadn’t expected her to overhear. She smiled to herself, wryly. She’d rightly gauged his interest in her.
“Aya belongs only to herself,” Qen replied. “And someday, if she ever decides to join with a man, you can be sure that won’t change.”
Aya couldn’t help smiling again. She couldn’t have answered Nebet better herself. Or more truly.
Hours later, after the patriarchs had departed to join their people along the lakeshore and the family heads had returned to their huts, Aya sat before hers, gently rocking Ta–she to sleep in her arms. Dozens of campfires illuminated the arc of land near the peninsula where the strangers were camped for the night. Aya was for the first time in years content, happy. What the falcon god had shown her in a dream when she was little more than a child had finally come to pass.
Iuput sat beside her. “Qen did it,” he observed. “Just like he promised.”
“Where is he?” Aya asked. “He disappeared before I could thank him for finding Inkaef and Nebet. And I still need to thank him for saving me two months ago.”
“If I had to guess, he’s probably down in the inlet, preparing the raft.”
“For what? Fishing? I need him to help get the new bands settled tomorrow.”
“Qen’s leaving,” Iuput said.
Aya gasped.
“He’s going to slip away at first light, without a fuss. He’s given me messages to pass on to his sister and nieces and nephews after he’s gone.”
“Why in the world would Qen leave?” Aya asked, disquieted. “Just when everything I’ve dreamed has come to pass? This is the start of a new life for all of us at the lake. Including him.”
“Everything has come to pass,” Iuput said. “Remember – Qen’s mission wasn’t just to find more bands, but to find you a man. Or so he tells me. Something about a part of your dream that you’ve never told me.” He looked at her accusingly. “Anyway, there are a host of unjoined men down there along the shore. They’ll be lining up trying to impress you in the morning. Why, Nebet was practically drooling over you tonight. You must have noticed.”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“Qen didn’t want to put himself through that.”
“Through what?” Aya asked.
“Watching others court the woman he loves.”
Aya snorted. “Qen doesn’t love me. He’s never spoken to me in that way.”
“He does. Though in his place I certainly wouldn’t. You’ve made it clear since the day we met Qen’s band that he wasn’t good enough for you. And he’s told you often enough that he’d only be with a woman who loved him. Why would he speak to you of love when he feels his is hopeless?”
“So he’s remained silent so he wouldn’t have to face my rejection?”
Iuput seized her shoulders and actually shook her. “Yes! You blind fool!”
Aya was stunned by her brother’s vehemence.
He pointed to the base of the ridge. “Before long you’re going to join with some man down there. According to Qen, the falcon god has shown you holding a newborn son, so you’ll feel obligated to pick someone who can give you one. Rest assured – whoever you end up with, he’ll portray himself one way while he courts you and will conduct himself in quite another once he wins you. Only the gods know what he’ll really be like – maybe domineering like Kakhent, maybe ambitious like Meru, maybe even worse. You can be certain that whoever it is will try to wrest the leadership of this band away from you. It’s human nature. Meanwhile, you’re letting Qen leave – a man who saved you and your family and your people from a horrible fate, and did it more than once. A man who gave you your position. A man you know completely, that you have no illusions about. A man who’ll never try to take what belongs to you or try to control you or change you in any way.” Iuput sighed. “Maybe someday you’ll explain to me exactly what type of love you think you deserve, Aya. Because I think it’s been staring you in the face for quite some time.”
Aya gazed out over the distant lake, at the far hills dim in the moonlight. I don’t deserve the kind of love Qen has to give after the way I’ve treated him, she told herself bitterly. Yet, I crave it. “Did Qen leave a message for me?” she asked Iuput hesitantly.
He shook his head. “I’m afraid not. I don’t think he believes you’d care.”
“I assure you, Brother, I do,” Aya said. “I care very much.”
“That’s the smartest thing you’ve said in a long time, Sister. So, what are you going to do about it?”
***
Aya did not sleep that night. She tossed and turned restlessly on her pallet in her hut, trying not to disturb her daughters. So much had happened today, all of it momentous. Her people’s future was now secure. The pressure she’d been under her whole life had been released in one grand instant, yet its aftermath had not brought clarity, only doubt and confusion and uncertainty. Aya lay awake and replayed in her mind everything that had happened today, during her captivity, in the months since she’d encountered the barbarians, and then every conversation she’d ever had with Qen, reflecting on what he’d said and done in light of subsequent events. She’d misjudged him time after time, she knew, damned him for what she thought he was doing, not for what he’d actually done. She saw now that if Qen had acted any differently at any point in time that Meru never would have taken him into his confidence at the end, drawn him into his plot, and Qen wouldn’t have been in a position to stop Meru and elevate her. But because she’d misjudged him, she�
��d alienated him, and now she was driving him away.
Qen was smart, she admitted. He’d outwitted his and her enemies. That wasn’t all that set him apart. He was a craftsman like her, took pride in the output of his hands, and for the same reason. That was something they had in common, something she shared with no other person. If not for Qen, she’d belong to Meru and those activities she loved would already be a thing of the past. But, because of Qen elevating her to replace Hannu, saving her from Menna and Khay, she was on her own, free to do what she chose, to spend her time as she pleased. She glanced at the sleeping forms of her daughters, barely distinguishable in the darkness, heard their soft breathing. Their lives would be far easier if they had a father. She realized she’d trust Qen with her girls before she would anyone she knew, certainly before anyone in the new bands. Qen was that different. Her girls loved Qen. And he loved them.
Finally, Aya confronted what she’d put off thinking about to the last – Iuput’s lecture. Iuput had said that Qen loved her. Qen had never once told her so, but she supposed that deep down she knew. He’d always treated her with respect and kindness, even when she hadn’t deserved it. He’d never treated her the way Meru had, never so much as touched her or tried to steal a kiss or even said anything to put her in an awkward position. The image of Qen standing in the trail, confronting Menna and Khay, risking his life to save her and Ahaneith, stuck in her mind. That was the instant she’d fallen in love with him. What more proof of his love did she need?
Aya reached a decision. She took a deep breath. She hoped she wasn’t too late. She rose, put on her loincloth, slipped outside the hut. A warm breeze caressed her. From the position of the stars she judged it was still an hour before dawn. Qen would be leaving soon. She made her way stealthily down the ridge from the camp to the flats, skirted the sleeping strangers, moved onto the peninsula. Dom palms loomed overhead, dark shapes in the bright moonlight, their fronds clacking in the breeze. She walked haltingly to where Qen’s magnificent boat and his small raft bobbed in the channel at the midpoint of the peninsula. As she came closer she saw jars and a few leather pouches already stowed on board the raft, along with Qen’s meager bundle of possessions. He’d indeed made his preparations for leaving. All he needed was light.
Aya almost stumbled over him in the dark. He was lying on his back on a reed pallet beneath a palm tree a few paces from the water, his body partly dappled with moonlight. She saw his mangled leg, the ugly scar, the staff he used for support within reach. She saw now that what she’d perceived as physical weakness, as a judgment from the gods, had in fact made Qen strong, made him different, made him finer than anyone she knew. Sleeping, Qen looked so calm, yet sad. As she gazed at him the peace that had fled the moment she’d met the barbarians suddenly engulfed Aya. All the doubt, the uncertainty, the unsettled feeling she’d come to abhor, was gone. Nothing weighed her down anymore. She knew it was because of Qen. She saw now that she and Qen had always been inevitable. She saw now that he was the man in her dream. He would someday be the father of her son, and she would sit with him and her girls on his boat, drifting on the surface of the lake she loved so well.
Aya carefully lowered herself to the ground and slipped onto Qen’s pallet. She nestled close to him, draped an arm across his warm chest, tilted her head to look at him.
Qen stirred at her touch. His eyes fluttered open. He turned his head, recognized her. His eyes glittered in the moonlight. She saw his surprise. “Aya…”
She rose on an elbow, caressed his cheek, bent. Her long hair cascaded over him. Aya softly kissed him, pulled back. “Stay,” she said.
Additional Publications
Predynastic Egypt
Daughter of the Falcon God
The Potter
The Women and the Boatman
Ancient Egypt
The Beadnet Dress
Beauty of Re
The Four Lakes Saga
Wingra
Madison, Wisconsin History
Forest Hill Cemetery
A Biographical Guide to the Women and Men Who Shaped Madison, Wisconsin, and the World
Bishops to Bootleggers
A Biographical Guide to Resurrection Cemetery: the Women and Men Who Shaped Madison, Wisconsin, and the World
Daughter of the Falcon God Page 36