Daughter of the Falcon God Read online

  “You’d risk so much on Aya’s word?” Bebi asked.

  “What risk?” Kakhent asked pointedly. “As you so eloquently pointed out, Brother, we can’t plant and raise a crop on the savannah this year. If Aya has exaggerated the condition of the plains lining the lake, we’ve lost nothing. But if she’s right… Then her falcon god will have saved us.”

  “You accept that this girl speaks for this so–called god?” Bebi snarled.

  “Aya followed the falcon,” Bek pointed out. “He led her to the talisman. None of us had the inclination or courage to find out what had fallen to earth.” He gave Aya a smile.

  “I don’t care. I’m not leading my family to any lake,” Amenemope insisted.

  “Nor I,” Bebi added.

  “Brothers – don’t decide in haste,” Bek pleaded. “Our people must remain united. I’ll tell you what – go to the lake with me, and I’ll divide our cattle and sheep and goats between the two of you. Kakhent and I will see to the farming. We’ll share what we grow with you.”

  Bebi shook his head. “There’s a large herd of oryx nearby that we’ve been hunting this past week. They’re getting ready to move west. I intend to follow them. I’m not going to let my family starve – go off to some lake I’ve never seen when there’s food on the hoof in front of me.”

  “I throw my lot in with Bebi,” Amenemope said. “So should you, Bek and Kakhent. Come with us.”

  “I will not. I’m going to the lake,” Bek said quietly. He turned to his youngest brother. “Where will you go, Kakhent? With them or with me?”

  “With you.”

  Aya breathed a sigh of relief. Kakhent’s family was the largest in the band. Without him, Bek would have had no choice but to remain with his brothers and abandon farming, for his family could not survive on its own.

  “I never thought I’d see the day when our band was sundered,” Bek said. “Sleep on it, brothers. I beg you – change your minds. Go to the lake with us.”

  “You’ve chosen to take the advice of an untried girl over us,” Amenemope snapped. “Live with the consequences. Patriarch.”

  “That’s it, then,” Bebi said. He rose.

  Amenemope followed him away from the fire, shaking his head in disgust.

  Bek reached out, seized Aya’s arm. “We’re staking everything on you, Aya. You’d better be right.”

  “I am, Grandfather,” Aya said with assurance. “You’ll see.”

  ***

  Aya packed the last of her handful of belongings into a leather pouch and slung it over her shoulder. She didn’t own much – two loincloths, a sheepskin for when the nights turned cold, a small stone palette upon which to grind ochre, a couple of shiny stones and the ostrich shell fragments she’d collected near the lake. Her most precious item, the falcon talisman, dangled around her neck now, strung on a thin string of twisted cow hair, a sign that all could see of her new status. She took one last look around the rude hut where she’d lived the past three months, then stepped outside.

  Women and children were hugging each other and crying. Two of Bebi’s daughters and one of Amenemope’s were joined to Kakhent’s sons and would be going to the lake with his family. Similarly, several of Kakhent’s daughters were joined to Bebi’s and Amenemope’s sons and would wander the savannah for the rest of their lives with them. Once the band split moments from now they’d never see their friends and relatives again. Those facing loss held Aya responsible, for news of how she’d convinced the elders to migrate to the lake had spread like wildfire through the camp during the night. She touched the talisman with her fingers and whispered a prayer to the falcon god that everyone following Bek would change their opinion of her once they reached the lake country and saw its advantages. She didn’t feel at all guilty about the split; she was only carrying out the will of the falcon god, passing on his message and leading her people to a better land. Bebi and Amenemope were the ones who’d have to someday answer for rejecting the god’s beneficence.

  “Time to go,” Amenemope cried in a loud voice, and his and Bebi’s families began straggling west.

  “Lead on, Aya,” Bek said.

  She nodded, took hold of Takhat’s hand, smiled at Nubwenet, then headed east.

  The day was pleasant, but promised to turn hot as it wore on. Aya kept a leisurely pace; both Bek and Nubwenet walked with difficulty these days, and the handful of men and boys driving the band’s cattle and sheep and goats could move no faster than the animals. Among them was her brother Iuput, namesake of her mother’s father, only ten years old yet already among the band’s best herdsmen.

  Aya took a quick peek over her shoulder. The band trailing her was frighteningly small. There were only twenty individuals, including Aya herself and her father and brother and sister. Her father’s brother Siese, younger than him by a decade, strolled at Hannu’s side; he was joined to Amenemope’s daughter Ladice. Their son Arwa was only four. Kakhent walked alone, overseeing the herdsmen – his woman had died a year ago and there was no available woman in the band for him to join with. Now that Bebi and Amenemope were gone, he’d become the band’s patriarch when Bek died. Aya had a sneaking suspicion that that’s the real reason Kakhent had decided to go to the lake country; he was an ambitious man, and would never have risen to patriarch had the band remained whole. He was far more interested in hunting than in farming or herding; to her, his desire to lead was the only reason that made sense for his coming with Bek. Kakhent was father to four sons. Wetka was joined to Bebi’s oldest daughter, Behenu; they had two sons, one six, one four. Kakhent’s youngest sons, Hunefer and Pimay, both in their mid–teens, weren’t joined to anyone yet; they were helping their father with the animals. Tabiry, the sole survivor of the band that had brought farming and herding to the savannah, Aya’s half–sister, walked a few steps behind her. All of the adults except Bek and Nubwenet carried pouches or balanced baskets on shoulders or atop their heads. Even the cattle and sheep and goats had reed baskets and pouches strapped to their backs and sides. Only the band’s seven dogs, dashing back and forth endlessly, helping the herdsmen control the other animals, were unburdened.

  The band rested at midday in the shade of acacia trees. As the other women prepared a meal from foodstuffs they’d carried – they’d found nothing worth gleaning on the withered savannah as they’d traveled – Aya made Bek a nutritious broth. She carried it to him where he sat with Nubwenet, his back supported by an acacia trunk.

  “I see you’re wearing the talisman,” he said, indicating her neck.

  “I feel I should, from now on, to honor the falcon god and to remind our people of his presence.”

  Bek sipped at the broth. “If Ta–she is as you reported, Aya, the falcon god will be our family’s god beginning now, and forever. He will take primacy over all our other gods. And because he chose you, you will take primacy over the rest of us when we make offerings to him.”

  Aya sat down next to Bek. “Why did he choose me, Grandfather?” she asked, puzzled. “I’m just a girl, as your brothers were quick to remind me last night. There’s nothing special about me.”

  “Except that you have the gift of healing, and of managing the savannah’s resources,” Nubwenet interjected. “Sitre considered you to be quite special. Don’t minimize your talents, child.”

  “Maybe he chose you because you answered when he called,” Bek replied. “You’re the only one of us who went towards the fireball. You’re the one who followed the falcon to the south. You’re the only one who saw the fireball as a sign of hope.” He drained the last of the broth. “Amenemope and Bebi argued strenuously that we should abandon our camp and head north the very night the fireball appeared. They insisted the gods were warning us that this land was cursed. The only reason we didn’t leave right away was because you hadn’t yet returned to us. I wasn’t about to abandon you.”

  “What does being chosen mean?” Aya asked.

  Bek shook his head. “I don’t really know. Perhaps the god will spea
k directly to you and give you messages to convey to our people. Perhaps he’ll give you more dreams. Perhaps he’ll appear in the sky, as he already has, to guide your steps. Or maybe he’ll just urge you to speak out, even when you should remain silent.”

  Aya colored, remembering the night of the council.

  “He’s already used you to convince me to lead our people to the lake, after all.”

  “I couldn’t convince Amenemope or Bebi,” Aya said sadly.

  “Not everyone listens to the gods, Aya, or they listen to other gods. Maybe the god who watches over the savannah, or the god who watches over the animals we hunt, had a stronger voice in my brothers’ heads.”

  “I just wish it wasn’t so,” Aya said.

  “As do I. Anyway, when we reach this new land, we’ll make offerings to the falcon god in thanksgiving. It behooves us to stay in his good graces from now on. You’ll lead the ceremony, at my side.” He gazed at the talisman dangling around her neck. “Someday, Aya, you’ll have a son or daughter. You must pass the talisman to them. When you do, tell them the story of how you found it. Make sure they know that they too must pass the talisman and the story to their descendants, so that our family may honor the god through your line for the rest of time.”

  “I will, Grandfather,” Aya said solemnly, picturing in her mind the children she’d seen gathered around her in her dream. “I promise.”

  5453 BC: Ta–she – Peret (Seed)

  At midafternoon of the seventh day, Aya and Kakhent stood flanking Bek atop the crest of the ridge overlooking the peninsula. Everyone else sprawled on the ground at the ridge’s base, their burdens cast aside, resting from the journey. On the flat land north of the ridge their animals were busily grazing the new grass that was pushing up through the rich soil.

  “This country is everything you said it would be, Aya,” Bek said with satisfaction. “You’ve done well, child.”

  Thus began a whirlwind of activities.

  Aya worked along with the others the rest of that day to establish a temporary camp on the ridge. While the boys hauled enough rocks from a nearby outcrop to build six circular hearths in shallow depressions they’d scooped from the earth by hand, the girls scrounged fallen branches from groves of trees at the edge of the nearby marsh to burn for cooking and heating. Meanwhile, women collected palm fronds from the peninsula and cut reeds from the marsh to make rude sleeping pallets on the ground; erecting huts of reed plastered with mud would wait, for the nights were warm this time of year and lying under the stars was preferable to being inside anyway. Aya guided Behenu and Bintanath to the nearby marsh; they each quickly filled a basket with catfish that they caught by hand. The fish were spawning and so were slow moving and abundant. The catfish, along with the last of the foodstuffs carried from the savannah, served as dinner that night. Before eating, Aya and Bek offered a suitable portion of what the women had gathered to the falcon god in thanksgiving for the country he’d led them to.

  The following morning nearly everyone who wasn’t watching over the animals assisted in planting their first crop. While Kakhent headed north and east to scout herds of game – he’d never taken an interest in farming – Bek and Aya selected three areas of flat ground near the ridge, each some distance from the others, to serve as emmer and barley fields. By separating the fields they hoped to minimize the risk of losing their entire crop to pests or natural disaster. Hannu and Paser and Siese and Wetka scattered seed on the still–moist soil. As they did Aya and the women and girls stationed themselves on and around the field being planted, flapping their arms and crying out to drive away the birds who descended in clouds attempting to eat the precious seed. Iuput and Hunefer and Pairy followed closely behind the planters, driving sheep and cattle that pushed the seed into the ground. By sunset they’d planted all the seed the band had brought from the savannah.

  The next day the band started to truly settle in. A few women began making and firing rough jars and bowls in which to cook food and collect milk and blood; they hadn’t carried those objects from the savannah because they’d been too heavy and bulky. The men erected small circular huts, six in all, one for each family, arranged around the hearths. Some of the women and girls meanwhile gleaned the marshes that lined the basins and lakeshore, returning to camp with early foodstuffs and fish and soft–shelled turtles and eggs and waterfowl they’d trapped with snares. Many of the fish they split open and smoked over racks set up near the water for later use. Meanwhile, the herdsmen established a camp beside a jumble of boulders overlooking the wadi that angled to the northwest. Iuput ingeniously blocked the northern end of one section of the wadi with brush. He told Aya he’d drive the animals into the wadi each evening and its walls, low though they were, would be enough to keep the beasts contained and stop them from wandering off. The setup would make it easy for the herdsmen and the dogs to protect the precious animals from predators.

  By the end of the first week everyone in the band had established a regular routine. Kakhent and his sons hunted among the herds that came to drink at the lake. Aya and Tabiry milked the cattle penned in the wadi each dawn and returned with brimming jars to camp. The women filled water jars from the lake, gathered wood for fires, prepared the morning and midday and evening meals, cleaned the campsite, gleaned in the marshes, caught fish, snared waterfowl and small animals. Iuput and a few boys drove the animals to the lake to drink, herded them back to the savannah to graze, returned them to the wadi at night. As foodstuffs ripened, Aya led foraging trips onto the savannah and beside the basins and in the marshes. She spent a great deal of time scheduling the foraging; with the band sundered there were only five women and girls, including Aya, to do what more than a dozen had done before. And at least one of the women had to remain in camp each day to care for the five children who were under the age of six. Luckily, the abundance of the lakeshore itself and the three nearby basins relieved the stress on resource patches located out on the savannah, and foraging nearby required minimal travel time and transportation effort. But there were particular foodstuffs on the savannah that the people prized and were used to as part of their diet, and as a result some gleaning there was necessary. The men faced similar issues – there were only seven of them, including Iuput and excluding Bek, to hunt and watch the herds around the clock. In addition to all those efforts, the precious fields of emmer and barley had to be regularly weeded and perpetually guarded. Every evening, Aya carried dinner to Iuput and his cousins who were watching over the herd full–time in the wadi. After that, she joined the women and girls on a sandy beach shaded by dom palms at the end of the peninsula facing camp, there to bathe and splash about in the cool water, laughing and gossiping along with the rest. That was the most enjoyable part of her day. After spending her entire life carefully rationing and using water, having an entire lake at her disposal was a luxury Aya vowed to never take for granted.

  ***

  About a month into their sojourn at the lake Kakhent returned to camp with news of a herd of aurochs grazing the savannah roughly a day’s travel away. He, like Aya, regularly ranged the countryside, figuring out the feeding and travel patterns of the various animals that inhabited the lake country, and had just spotted them. The news was greeted with excitement; a single aurochs bull could feed the entire camp for a week. Though that was not the impetus for the hunt. The men had already learned they could simply wait for game to come to the lakeshore for water, then slay at will. In this particular instance, Kakhent had encountered the largest aurochs bull he had ever seen. The purpose of this hunt was for Kakhent to kill the bull to gain his power.

  Leaving Hannu and Siese and Iuput behind with the dogs to watch over the herds, Kakhent set out with his sons at first light the next morning. Aya accompanied them at Bek’s insistence; she’d keep camp for the hunters while they were in the field, as well as look for resource patches along the way to exploit in the future. Also, as the band’s healer, she’d be available in case of an accident. Aurochs were massive
and violent creatures, capable of doing great damage. Most importantly, Bek said, with Aya along the falcon god would no doubt bless the hunt and ensure its success.

  They traveled northeast, following the bed of the same wadi they’d used when journeying to the lake, this time in the opposite direction. Kakhent had noted a particular section of the wadi then that he’d decided could serve as a watching station, and he led his small group towards it. Hunefer and Pimay walked on either side of Aya the whole way. Hunefer was sixteen, Pimay fifteen, and both had been pursuing her since she’d become a woman earlier in the year. They were both for the most part pleasant enough, though each on occasion had exhibited Kakhent’s violent temper. They’d been relentless in their pursuit of her, constantly arguing between themselves over who would ultimately become her man. That Aya might have an opinion in the matter didn’t seem to occur to either of them. Truth be told, she wasn’t interested in either Hunefer or Pimay. She was in no hurry to be joined to a man and start making babies. Neither of them made her feel as she had when she touched the hand of the man in her dream, and so she knew the falcon god intended her to be with someone else. Unfortunately, to Aya’s chagrin, the boys’ pursuit had driven a wedge between Aya and her half–sister Tabiry. Tabiry had her heart set on becoming Pimay’s woman and accused Aya of trying to steal his affections. Nothing Aya said could convince Tabiry otherwise.

  “I’ll kill a lion for you, Aya,” Pimay promised as they walked along. “I’ll give you his hide too – for a kiss.”

  Lions were extremely dangerous game, Aya knew, and not to be hunted frivolously or by the inexperienced. Kakhent already owned three lion skins; no other man in her band except Didia had ever returned from a hunt with even one, and he’d obtained his decades before Aya’s birth. Thus Pimay’s promise was ludicrous. But Aya was not one to ridicule another. “Tabiry would be furious,” she said instead, to dissuade him.