Part Four
Chapter Thirteen
Awnings flap in the stiff, dry wind that is blowing across the ridge. “Look, Hammur!” yells a short, fat woman dressed in a bright yellow tunic. She frantically claps her hands and bounces on her feet. “The King has downed a lion!”
A barren plain rolls away from the ridge. In the distance the outskirts of the city are barely visible. Vultures glide overhead.
“Some sport!” grumbles Hammur. “Horses! Spears! Giant dogs!”
“Oh, Hammur!” she whines. “You take the fun out of everything.”
“What do you know?” he says. “Look at that hat! That hat is ridiculous. Where do you get these stupid things?”
She turns to the woman next to her and rolls her eyes. “I cannot believe it! Maab, I am married to a pig!”
Hammur throws his hands up in the air. He turns to the man beside him. “What were we talking about?”
The other man shrugs.
“Saffron!” shouts Hammur. “That was it — saffron! Do you think I should buy this shipment of saffron?”
“Hammur, surely you jest with me,” says the other man. “In the turn of a moon everyone will have saffron. You won’t be able to get a bird for a bushel.”
Nut, who is standing nearby, keeps his head down just like Ben-jah told him to do. He offers a tray with cups of beer to a soldier standing nearby. The soldier remains motionless.
Nut stands silently, holding out the tray, looking down.
The soldier taps Nut on the shoulder and whispers, “Over there.” He points to a group of priests.
Nut scuttles over to the priests, head bowed. He offers them the tray and they take the beer, ignoring him, continuing their debate.
“This King is for the birds,” declares one priest.
“Oh no,” rebuffs another. “He is a clever man. He realizes that it is better to let others work to build up cities, then conquer them!”
Another priest laments, “You forget when we made the rules.”
“ I do not forget,” says another. “But this will not last. One, maybe two more generations. The Gods must prevail!”
Another priest, who has been standing silently nearby, says, “Well, I for one cannot wait to have my turn at him during the Wedding of Inanna.”
Absorbed in their discussion, the priests hardly notice the sweltering line of heavily armed men moving across the plain, jabbing with torches and spears, driving a lion before them.
“Oh, look they’ve got another one,” squeals the fat woman in the yellow tunic. “The King is going to kill it!”
The torchbearers close the circle around the lion. The huge cat lunges in a frenzy and it is stabbed from every direction. The King strides forward and finishes off the beast by jamming a spear into its eye. The animal — violently grabbing at empty air — expires in convulsions.
“I preferred the elephants,” says a priest.
“Yes,” says another priest. “But they are all gone now.”
Another priest asks, “What shall we dine on tonight?”
* * *
Chapter Fourteen
“Ganj?” asks Nut. “I do not mean to pry, … but tell me about those scars on your back.”
The two men are sitting on their straw pallets, having finished their evening meal of barley and lentils. Ganj is strumming his lyre. The round moon peers in through the window above.
Nut again asks, hesitating. “I do not mean to meddle …
Ganj replies, “What are you talking about?”
“Your back. Turn around. Those scars. Where did they come from?”
“Where do I come from? I come from far to the East, where the Scorpion-Men guard the great door on the flank of the Mountains of Mystery.” Ganj makes a broad gesture. “Every morning Bunene, the coachman for Shamash, the Sun-God, unlocks the door and the day begins.”
“That is truly wonderful,” says Nut. “But I ask about your scars.”
“The stars?” Ganj points toward the night sky peeking in through the small window above. “The stars are the hearth-fires of the gods, so the night sky is full of gods. Gods, gods, and more gods. Gods for everything. So, Nut, my friend, who are your gods?”
“I do not know. They change.”
“Well, I believe the more the merrier. You know what they say? ‘He who has no god, when he walks down the street wears his heartache like a garment.’”
“What does that mean?”
“Ask me when I am dead.”
“The scars. I asked about your scars.”
“What scars?”
“Those marks across your back.”
“You, my young friend, will find out all too soon. In the meantime perhaps you would enjoy a song. A song to take you to the realm of Dzaqar, the god of dreams.”
Nut begins to protest, but Ganj raises a hand to quiet him.
They both lean back, looking up at the moon peeking through the window above. Ganj strums his lyre and sings:
“He with much silver is happy,
And joyful is he with fat sheep,
And those with barley are grateful,
But he who has nothing may sleep...”
* * *
Chapter Fifteen
Nut and Ganj drop the yoke of cart that they have been pulling. Canopies shade the booths that line the narrow streets from the ever-present sun. Crowds jostle past. Nearby a preacher preaches. Two women are squabbling over an ivory comb. And Ben-jah is haggling with a fishmonger.
“Three nannars!” shouts the fishmonger over the clamor of the bazaar.
Ben-jah frowns and shakes his head. Ganj and Nut frown and shake their heads.
“Three nannars!” repeats the fishmonger, holding up three fingers. “This is the price for sixty crabs!”
“Hammur sells his for two!” shouts Ben-jah.
“Then buy them from Hammur! My crabs were in the sea this morning! His? Maybe not!”
Ganj and Nut frown and shake their heads.
The fishmonger leans forward. “Do you want to poison the King? Do you want to be buried alive? Do you?”
Ben-jah glares at the fishmonger. “You are a scoundrel!” he yells over the bedlam. “But your reasoning is sound. Give me a dozen bushels.” He turns to Ali-Ganj and Nut, “Load the crabs onto the cart. Then we must see Hammur about ducks.”
“Why Hammur?” asks Nut.
“A duck is a duck,” says Ben-jah. “And he has servants that will deliver them.”
In a dark doorway, several men are gambling with dice. A prostitute struts by, showing off her wares.
* * *
Chapter Sixteen
Standing before the massive walls of the city, the King sweeps his arms towards the mountainous brickwork. Laborers crawl across the walls like ants. The sun glistens off the King’s bronze helmet.
The King turns toward his entourage and proclaims, “IN A CITY THAT HAS NO WATCHDOG THE FOX IS THE OVERSEER!”
Two priests at the rear of the procession nudge each other and wink.
The King spreads his arms. “WE HAVE GREAT CANALS! OUR FIELDS ARE ALWAYS GREEN! WE HAVE THWARTED THE INCURSIONS OF THE NOMAD!”
One of the priests mumbles, “When was the last time nomads were a threat?”
“OUR TEMPLES REACH TO THE SKY!” proclaims the King.
The other priest mutters, “No thanks to you.”
“I PRESERVE THE EDICTS!” the King proclaims. “HOW MANY RUNAWAY WIVES GO UNCAPTURED?!”
Silence, other than the wind.
“AND WHY IS THIS?!” demands the King.
His servants stare at their sandals. The priests examine their fingernails.
The King bellows out, “BECAUSE OF THE KING!!!” He storms around in a circle in the sand and yells, “BECAUSE OF THE KING!! BECAUSE OF THE KING!!!” In a rage he waves the entourage past.
After his retinue has disappeared over the horizon, he turns his face towards the desert. He loosens his armor and then urinates into the sand. He mumbles, “I wish it was because of the King…. But it is copper.”
* * *
Chapter Seventeen
With Ben-jah leading the way, Nut and Ganj pull a cart down onto a crowded dock alongside the Great River Buranun. They pass gangs of sweating, half-naked men unloading newly arrived shipments of copper ore, bales of wool, blocks of salt, jars of oil, and all the other materials that find their way to the crossroads of the world. Men wearing embroidered tunics and turbans sit cross-legged, leaning over trays of hollow clay balls and breaking them open. They count out the tokens contained within, while making marks on wet clay tablets.
Ben-jah motions for Ganj and Nut to stop. “You two wait here,” he says. Nearby, loud laughter and music rolls out through an open doorway, accompanied by a pungent odor.
Ganj tugs at Ben-jah’s sleeve.
Ben-jah glares at him. “Do not even think about it,” he says. Then he walks around the corner.
Nut and Ganj glance back and forth. Eventually Nut asks, “Will the feast be in the temple?”
“Certainly.”
“Will Inni be there?! Will I see her?!”
“My young friend, I cannot predict the future. You must ask the gods.” Ganj points to a disheveled old man sitting against a wall. A small fire burns in front of him, and he holds out two small bowls. “There is the man to beseech the gods,” says Ganj. “He is a baru.”
Ganj takes Nut by the arm and presents him to the baru. “Soothsayer, for the gift of a crab please tell my friend that he will die in the arms of a beautiful woman.”
The baru looks up blankly.
Ganj holds out a crab and says, “A victim of love!”
The baru ponders the crab. He reaches out and takes it and puts it into a small pouch. Then he carefully selects a slice of onion from one of the bowls and tosses it into the fire, then a piece of a date from the other bowl. The fire begins to smolder. He stares at the smoke.
Nut starts to speak, but Ganj motions for him to be silent. The baru reaches into his ragged cloak and pulls out a handful of small bones. He chants some words and throws the bones on the ground. He studies them. His head snaps back with a horrified expression. He topples over.
=
Ganj takes Nut by the arm and leads him back to the cart.
Nut asks, “What does it mean? What do the bones say? Will Inni be at the feast?”
“The bones say that you will become King and that Inni will be your Queen and you will have a feast of your own.”
“You torment me! What do the bones say?”
“Do not regard the baru. He knows nothing other than how to get a crab in return for a fainting act. But now, you and I, we must turn our attention to the matter at hand.”
“The feast?”
“Yes! But not just any feast!” Ganj bows in an expansive gesture. “This feast celebrates the marriage of the King and Inanna!”
“The King is getting married?” Nut is puzzled. “With his harem, why would he want to get married?”
“It is merely a ceremony. To ensure the fertility of the land. Or so they say. But I think that it reveals the King’s yearning for immortality.”
“I do not understand.”
“I will explain. The Ancient Ones tell of the Goddess Inanna and Dumuzi, the youthful God of the Harvest. She had wanted to ravish him from the moment she first beheld him as a beautiful child, and eventually he submitted, because who can resist the very incarnation of lust and desire?”
“Lust? Desire?”
“Yes! Moreover, Inanna was the Queen of the Heavens! The vast sky! Yet that was not enough for her appetites. She set her heart to become the Mistress of the Underworld as well. So she journeyed to that forbidden realm…” Ganj pauses and solemnly gazes into the distance…
“Forbidden realm?!” asks Nut.
Ganj glances over his shoulder, then whispers, “The house from which none who enter may ever return.”
“Death?” whispers Nut. He shudders.
Ganj leans forward. “Inanna comes to the first gate to the underworld. She takes the pendants from her ears and gives them to the gatekeeper, and he permits her to enter. She comes to the next gate. She takes the bracelets from her hands and feet and gives them to the gatekeeper, who lets her pass. At the next gate she removes the necklace of pearls from her throat. At the next she plucks the dazzling jewels from her breasts. To the fifth gatekeeper she gives up her girdle adorned with precious stones. The sixth receives the glorious crown from her head. At the final gate she drops her garments and completely uncovers her nakedness.”
Nut giggles.
“She stands before her jealous sister, Ereshkigal, the dreaded Queen of Darkness alongside her seven fierce judges. They fasten their eyes upon Inanna and condemn her to death! Ereshkigal orders her executioners to toss Inanna into a pit and set loose the sixty maladies.”
“No!” cries Nut.
“Yes!” cries Ganj. “But Inanna had anticipated her sister’s treachery, and instructed her faithful servant Ninshubur to seek help if she did not return in three days. Ninshubur’s pleas convinced Inanna’s father, Enki, the Great God of the Waters, to dispatch Asushu-Namir — the mysterious He-She Enchanter — to the Land of the Dead with incantations to defeat the will of Ereshkigal.”
“What is a He-She Enchanter?”
“In vain the Infernal Queen strives to resist. In vain she attempts to beguile Asushu-Namir, who is immune to her charms. Inanna is set free and sprinkled with the Water of Life. But the me will not allow her–”
“Who are the me?”
“The me are the universal laws that govern all existence! And they forbid Inanna from being freed from the World of the Dead unless a substitute is provided. She is escorted to the Land of the Living by the galla, the demons who inhabit the lower regions, with orders that they drag her back unless a substitute is found.”
“A substitute?”
Ganj’s voice gets menacing. “When Inanna and her ghastly entourage arrive at her temple, she finds Dumuzi sitting on her throne, drinking wine and rejoicing in the loss of his unfaithful consort. Inanna becomes furious and orders the galla to seize and torture him, then carry his defiled corpse to the underworld!”
Ben-jah appears around the corner. Ganj’s demeanor shifts. He says, “But Dumuzi’s sweet sister, the loving and sacrificing Geshtinanna, agreed to take his place for half of every year and that is when the crops return. Truly beautiful.”
Ben-jah scowls at Ali-Ganj. “Do not fill the boy’s head with stupid ideas.”
“Stupid ideas?” asks Nut. “I am confused.”
“It is nothing,” says Ganj. “Trivial. I was just telling you a story.”
“To some,” says Ben-jah, “these celebrations are of grave importance.”
Ganj rolls his eyes.
Ben-jah glares at Ganj, then turns back to Nut. “And to others it is an excuse to become drunk. And that will be your task at the feast. Nut, you will ensure that the cups are never empty.”
​
* * *
​
​
​
[Go to Part Five​]