Part II
XVI
Areshen strode down the central aisle in the palace
of Ur's Assembly Hall and again decided to dispense with established
protocol.
"Where is he?" Areshen demanded as he stepped onto
the throne platform and gazed down on a gaudily painted nephew or some
such cringing on the edge of the throne.
"He - he - he's incapacitated," an effeminate,
cowering nephew of Ibisien's squeaked.
Drunk, Areshen sighed, and with a snapping wave of
his hand shooed the nephew from the throne. As the pouting young man
crawled back to the king's gallery, Areshen studied Ur's Assembly standing
in unusually subdued conversation throughout the Great Hall, Shubari's
flight from the temple's first terrace most likely the topic of every
conversation.
Areshen stepped to the throne, waited until he was
certain that everyone in the hall was now pretending not to notice him,
and then with a long, final sigh, lowered himself onto Ur's throne.
Nothing more than the buzzing of several flies could now be heard
throughout the Great Hall, most members of the Assembly gazing toward the
floor, a few toward the portals as though preparing to run. No one at the
moment, however, moved.
“Do not worry," Areshen finally began, his voice
low and strained with fatigue, head on hand nursing the ache both physical
and emotional. "I intend only to borrow this chair for a few moments.
King's pronouncements," and Areshen paused, waiting for the startled
scribes to raise their pens. "Setith, queen of Isin, is reinstated as
High Priestess of all temples from which she was removed by the High
Priest Shubari, the same who this day past attempted to fly like a bird
from the temple's first terrace, and was unable to do so. The High
Priestess of Ur, upon discovering that the High Priest Shubari did not, in
fact, possess the ability to fly like a bird from the temple's first
terrace, does not wish to test her own ability to do so, and has informed
me that she would be most pleased to abdicate her throne. Setiluth,
therefore, daughter of Areshen, king of Isin, temporary king of Ur, will
be installed as High Priestess. Unless a High Priest with the ability to
fly like a bird from the temple's first terrace can be found, I see no
reason to bother with another High Priest here in Ur. Setiluth will rule
alone."
Again Areshen paused, glanced for another long
moment about the Great Hall, much of the Assembly now wearing an
expression of relief. Most, Areshen supposed, would expect the
blasphemous king of Isin to announce the sack of Ur with his opening words
if Ur was in fact going to be sacked.
"Why," Areshen then mumbled, his voice, however,
still clearly audible in every corner of the Great Hall, "why? A young
woman not yet thirty, living in a temple household, was tired, exhausted,
and then she died. The master of the house, they tell me, is in his late
fifties. I'm a soldier, a barbarian," Areshen barked, his “barbarian” the
northern Akkadian word, even the sound ferocious. "I know very little
about numbers. But the numbers I have just used seem very wrong to me.
My daughter Setiluth knows a great deal about numbers, however. Upon her
installation as High Priestess of Ur, Setiluth intends to ask some of you
about these numbers, particularly those of you who are heads of temple
households. Setith, queen of Isin, who now sits lawfully installed as
High Priestess of Nippur, its palace, they tell me, once again as it
should be, preeminent in Sumer and Akkad, also knows a great deal about
numbers, and Setith's householders to not die in their late twenties, so I
suppose Setith may ask," Areshen continued with barked emphasis, "why
yours here in Ur do," and again the Assembly stood in trembling silence.
Areshen glared across the Great Hall for another
long moment, again rubbed the ache from his head, then pushed himself to
his feet.
"Tell Ibi," Areshen scoffed, "that he can have his
chair back when he's sober enough to sit in it. I'm done with it - for
now. Tell him I'll be on the walls for awhile being military governor if
he needs me. Tell him Gipul of Elam is returning home to Elam with his
daughters. Gipul, they tell me, also knows a great deal about numbers,
has told me that he knows exactly how many bricks there are in Ur. Gipul
tells me that he shall not return to Ur unless it becomes necessary to
remove every last brick in the city from the one on which it now rests.
Gipul of Elam, I suspect, will one day return to Ur unless a great many of
you listen to what it is that the High Priestesses Setith and Setiluth
have to say about numbers. And Setith, as far as a barbarian such as
myself can tell, a lady of unprecedented virtue, charity, and nobility
deprived of her possessions without so much as a whimper of protest from
this Assembly, is now queen of Isin, rides naked on her chariot in a fury
seeking vengeance, they tell me as well. For eight years now you have
quaked in terror every time the king of Isin has walked into this chamber
and stood next to its throne. I would suggest that all of you turn your
eyes toward the queen of Isin instead. She and Gipul of Elam are very
good friends. Gipul knows how many bricks there are in Ur; Setith knows
all about other numbers. Setith knows to the ounce how much grain is
stored in most temple granaries across Sumer and Akkad, and her children
do not die at thirty years of age."
Areshen gazed about the Great Hall for another
long moment, not certain that any of his words had made a great deal of
sense.
"They did, father," Setiluth proclaimed several
days later when she was installed as High Priestess of Ur.
Areshen then returned to the walls of Ur and for
another month, drank beer with other soldiers in the fortress courtyards,
sleeping in small chambers beneath the wall towers at night.
Areshen finally returned to Ur's Sacred Area and
stood for a long, studying moment pondering the never ceasing rush of
commerce in the Great Court of Nanna. Temple priests, scribes, a hundred
warehouse workers carried every sort of merchandise and produce from the
backs of donkeys toward storerooms and factories lining all four walls of
the Great Court. The scene did not appear remarkably different than it
had before Setiluth had been installed as High Priestess, the changes
Setiluth had ordered, Areshen supposed, far too subtle for someone such as
himself to detect.
From the Great Court, Areshen wandered onto the
temple platform itself, then for another quick moment gazed toward another
constant rush of activity about another series of workshops and storage
chambers lining the temple platform's walls. Climbing finally from the
temple platform through the gate of Judgment, the Sacred Area's palaces
now dominated the view.
The palace of the High Priestess toward which
Areshen then walked was a particularly impressive sight, a fortress like
structure remarkably larger than either of the Sacred Area's other
palaces, the High Priestess' palace many times the size of any structure
beyond the Sacred Area's walls. Guard towers rising into the air on each
other the palace's corners were now manned by professional soldiers rather
than the old temple guard, would continue to be manned by professional
soldiers until Areshen was certain that Setiluth faced no danger from a
hundred or more members of the previous regime still occupying priesthoods
in the Sacred Area, more than a few of these most likely back chamber
products of the late High Priest Shubari's indiscretions, all of whom had
been disappointed and disillusioned when the High Priest Shubari had been
unable to fly like a bird from the temple's first terrace.
Areshen sauntered through the entrance chamber in
the northwest wall of the High Priestess' palace, then wandered through a
maze of interior chambers, a large courtyard, another half dozen chambers,
and finally realized that he was once more hopelessly lost. Only when one
of the serving girls Setiluth had brought with her to the palace grasped
Areshen's hand did he finally make his way to the High Priestess' private
chambers, another confusing maze of interconnecting rooms now occupied by
Setiluth's personal household.
"It took me a year," Areshen began as he lowered
himself to the couch and gazed toward his daughter sitting at a table
covered with writing tablets, "to find my way around Ur. Shar Dulur was a
particular annoyance. This place, however, is worse than either. There's
no sense to it, no order."
"Actually there is, father," Setiluth laughed, her
gentle smile as stunning as ever.
"Ten minutes ago," Areshen stated as he nodded
appreciation toward the young serving girl who delivered his beer, then
nodded annoyance toward the chamber's walls, "I walked through a room in
which a half dozen doddering old priests were boiling something in a big
cauldron, mumbling away at their prayers. I walked through a door, left,
right, left a few more times, and ended in another chamber with a big
cauldron and mumbling priests, only to realize that it was the same
chamber through which I had passed just a minute before, the only
difference being that the mumbling priests were now having difficulty
concentrating on their prayers. One or two of them, I'm certain, were
laughing at me."
"You wandered through the sacrificial chambers of
Demenuru, father," Setiluth chuckled. "You are the only person in Ur who
could have done so, particularly twice, without ending in one of the
towers, under armed guard."
"And the whole place is very crowded, Setiluth,
people in every chamber. I've seen as many people in the past few minutes
here in the palace as anyone might see in a whole block of buildings out
in the city," and Areshen gazed across toward his daughter in gentle
concern.
"Shubari," Setiluth continued, "emptied all three
of the Sacred Area's palaces. His household slept atop sacks of grain in
the Great Court while he and the High Priestess slept in their palaces
alone, entire Sixties of the temple guard posted at the entrances
throughout the night. I would never be happy, father, sleeping in this
palace all by myself."
"But all of Ur now waits in chambers just beyond
the door to this one. You deny no one audience, Setiluth."
"That does not really displease you, does it,
father?"
"No," Areshen sighed. "I suppose it does not."
"Besides," Setiluth again chuckled, "the rest of
Ur can find its way to my chambers without loosing themselves along the
way. Even Eta can do so."
Areshen broke into a soft smile for the hint of
mature passion he had begun to notice in the touch of his twelve year old
wife's lips to his own the last few times they had met, the passion still
mild and tentative, though just a bit more obvious than it had been a
month ago.
"Eta still spends all of her time with Teru?"
Areshen asked.
"Yes, ever since she met him at the rites for
Etwabi. Eta is quite taken with Teru and his god, has become an ardent
member of the cult. When Eta visited me a few days ago, we passed our
time walking together through the palace. I pointed to the chambers of
Luebu, a goddess who seems to have fallen from favor with Nanna and
Ningal, the chambers by and large abandoned, and I offered those chambers
to Teru and Eta. 'No,' sweet Eta frowned. 'God,' she then said, 'does
not wish to live with the gods of Sumer, because he is the only god.'"
"Teru has mentioned this belief to me several
times, though I've never stopped to consider it in detail yet. The idea,
however, is intriguing, one god, instead of a stable full of them, far
less of a nuisance."
"Quite," Setiluth sighed with no more than a touch
of passing annoyance, contemplative solemnity in her features when she
continued. "Eta also informs me that Teru's only god is not pleased with
the fact that so many daughters in Ur are bearing their own father's
children. Eta and Teru both ask that I promulgate a stop to this."
"Will you?"
"I may, father, but it will be difficult to do
so. Since Teru's god is not resident in the temple, I will have to search
the archives of those gods who are resident, particularly the archives of
Nanna. Shubari, it seemed, had commissioned just such a study several
years ago, hoping to find some statement by the gods in support of a
promulgation increasing the propitiation taxes placed on the heads of
households whose primary lovers are their own daughters. It would have
been a very lucrative tax in the south, particularly here in Ur. And -
you know how I feel about you, father. I can sympathize - "
"But you would still promulgate against it?"
"Yes, did I think it contrary to the dictates of
Holy Order, though I would hope to promulgate in the Tribunal of Moral
Order rather than in the tax courts. As I say, however, it appears that
it is going to be difficult to do so. Sumer's gods in residence have had
very little to say on the matter. Shubari's study produced very little
evidence one way or another. In the end, the case Shubari's advocates
prepared questioning sexual relations between fathers and daughters was
weak, and the proposal for the new tax was abandoned. Mother has promised
to assist me, however. She returns to Nippur for a few days a month from
now, and states that she will commission a study there."
"A month ago, you said that Setith's views
regarding the gods were not remarkably different than my own?"
"Holy Order," Setiluth chuckled, "is still the
foundation for most of mother's beliefs, whether Holy Order be an
interpretation of divine command or an expression of cultural values and
standards. Mother is most certainly the epitome of the latter."
"I suppose I raised the subject of a promulgation
in the first place for - personal reasons."
Areshen watched the expression of amusement in his
daughter’s features for another long moment. Again, however, he couldn't
help but feel a genuine, pressing concern for her, all of Ur waiting in
the outer chambers, the intentions of more than a few most likely anything
but honest. And Setiluth was very aware that her life had changed
forever; she had trembled quite visibly when she had been installed as
High Priestess of Ur. She was now mistress of nine tenths of everything,
both within the city itself, as well as in countless factories and farms
beyond the city walls. Again Areshen raised his eyes to his daughters,
the unspoken question obvious.
"I am all right, beloved," Setiluth began when she
noticed the depth of her father's concern for her. "I, at least, have had
three years experience as mistress of a household. When Sargon made his
daughter High Priestess of Ur, she was only twelve years old."
"You have made very few changes, Setiluth. I
would have thought you quite justified had you removed a hundred High
Priests' heads from their shoulders."
"I have considered doing so indeed, father,"
Setiluth admitted. "Gipul and Elam would certainly be pleased were I to
do so. I receive letters from Gipul daily, the name of another head added
to his list. The removal of so many heads at once would lead to chaos,
however. A few would die quickly; thousands more would die slowly, in
hunger and in pain. Should I remove the minister of river transport from
his post? If his replacement proves to be incompetent, it may take a year
to repair the damage caused be said incompetence. Were there to be
another disruption in river transport while at the same time a crop
failure somewhere, the result could very well be another famine. That is
just one case. What of the harbor master, accounts clerks, the housing
minister, a hundred others with specialized expertise overseeing the
business of their chambers? Actually," and Setiluth sighed a long
moment's tense anxiety, "I had genuinely hoped that Eta's and Teru's god
would accept my invitation to reside with me in the palace. I need all
the help I can get. Teru, however, though he is far too kind to state it
bluntly and directly, hints that it is already too late for Ur, the old
regime far too entrenched, and urges me to have an escape planned, perhaps
one which leads to you and mother in Isin."
"Do you?" Areshen asked with the subtle hint of an
intrigued smile.
"If Teru is correct, it will probably be Gipul of
Elam who proves him so. If Gipul, who many times has expressed a desire
to remove every brick in Ur from the one on which it now stands, appears
beneath the walls of Ur with his armies, mother will probably be standing
beside him. I will not have far to flee. In order to avoid having to do
so in the first place, however, I will try to be that which mother has
always been - a good High Priestess," and with a gentle smile, Setiluth
lifted one of the tablets from her table. "From mother," Setiluth
continued, easy warmth in her expression for a long moment, then Setith's
shrewd, piercing expression of intelligence. "Mother writes, 'balance the
scales carefully, beloved daughter. You, perhaps, are alone capable of
doing so, feeding Ur on the one hand, placating Gipul and the east on the
other. Remove a few snakes from the nest, not so many, however, that the
nest crumbles altogether.' Mother then continues” - and with some amount
of effort, Areshen attempted to maintain at least the pretense of interest
as mother and daughter engaged in protracted financial negotiation over
the division of bricks and sacks of grain and this and that and the other
thing from one side of Sumer and Akkad to the other. "'Sweet, beloved
Setiluth,' mother continues," a frowning eighteen year old daughter who
felt only the most ardent of love for her mother read on, "' your most
recent offer for the purchase of Stenuri is a bit closer to that which a
well informed person might term reasonable. I must inform you, however,
that the cattle of Stenuri are among the most highly valued in Sumer.
Perhaps the reason your purchase offer was still a bit low is because you
are not aware of their actual worth, your agents scoundrels feeding you
every sort of misinformation. I am certain your next offer will be one
meriting serious consideration on my part.'"
Areshen raised his eyes from his beer when he
realized that Setiluth had paused, her expression accusing mischief as she
gazed back.
"That was all very interesting, beloved," Areshen
lied.
Setiluth broke into a soft, accepting smile as she
lowered the tablet.
"I won't bore you any further, father. Suffice it
to say that the situation in its entirety is similar to that which existed
when Sargon made his daughter the High Priestess of Ur. Sargon's queen
got the north, his daughter the south. Save for sporadic exceptions,
mother and I have agreed to follow their example. Neither Sargon's queen
nor his daughter bothered to explain it all to Sargon, however. They say,
though I find it hard to believe, that he exhibited even less interest in
financial matters than the present king of Isin."
"What of Ibisien and the palace here in Ur,
Setiluth? Are they a matter of concern to you?"
"No more than they are to you, father. Since I am
your daughter, very few, even here in Ur, doubt that Isin is now that
which Sargon's Agade was. The king's palace here in Ur is now little more
than just another private residence, a ceremonial allegiance proffered to
same by a few elderly people who will always live in the past. Gipul
recognizes the situation as it is, and states that it will not be
necessary to waste a great deal of his time on Ibisien should he find it
necessary to sack Ur. Gipul boasts that he will just take Ibisien back to
Elam with him as a pet."
"Ibisien, my spies among the palace guard tell me,
is already trying to reconcile himself to that which even he now considers
inevitable. His poets are busy composing lamentations, numerous versions,
his scribes instructed to circulate those which are appropriate in the
event of his demise."
"It is very sad," Setiluth answered. "Ibisien's
only real crime was that he inherited his grandfather's crown, not quite
certain what to do with it. So he did very little with it, far less even
than his father and uncle, contents himself with a cup of wine and his
sweet little boys. It is for this reason that most of Ur once again
belongs to the temple. Had Shubari lived another year or Ibisien become
distracted with another of his pets, all of Ur might now belong to the
temple."
"Is that good or bad?" Areshen asked.
"By and large, neither. Still, I would not have
wanted to live in a temple household under the High Priest Shubari.
Etwabi could not even attain her thirtieth year having to do so," and the
moisture now in Setiluth's eyes was obvious at a glance. When Setiluth
had been a child, it had been Etwabi as often as not who had taken her
into maternal embrace.
Areshen felt the weight of his own emotions settle
about him, leaned further into the couch, and then just waited for
Setiluth.
"I will, as I say," Setiluth finally continued,
Setith's fierce self assurance once again in her eyes, "be a good High
Priestess. Ur, good or bad, is once again a temple city. Did Epenatu or
another of the ancients walk from their tomb onto the streets of Ur, very
little would be unfamiliar to them. Ur, an ancient temple city once
again, needs a good High Priestess. Shubari, however, is still entrenched
in households all over the city. I'm not certain that I can dislodge him
as quickly as some might wish, Gipul of Elam to name just one. Should I
visit one household a day in Ur, I will in ten years have visited them
all. Households belonging to the temple beyond the city's walls would
require another thirty years. And for the past hundred years now, ever
since Urnammu, Ur has been the center of Sumer's civilization. When I
have completed my forty year's work, another sixty will be required to
dislodge Shubari from his hiding places all across Sumer."
Areshen met his daughter's eyes in intimacy for
another long moment, helpless concern for her in his own.
"I could dislodge Shubari from Ur myself," Areshen
finally shrugged. "I would do so in an instant did I think doing so would
meet with your approval. Unfortunately, I am a very blunt instrument, not
at all given to finesse or surgical precision. I know very little about
palace officials and the business of their chambers, next to nothing about
tabulation tablets and the like. Were I to remove the snakes from Ur,
Gipul would no longer have to sack it. Ur would already be sacked."
"Give me a little time, father," Setiluth
answered. "Gipul seems content to do so."
"Setith will help you, won't she, Setiluth?"
"Mother will do most of it."
Areshen raised his eyes in question, nodding
understanding, however, a quick moment later.
"From mother's letters," Setiluth continued in
easy humor, "I get the impression that she is beginning to enjoy her role
as queen of Isin, taking an almost sensual delight living on the edge of
civilization. I'm certain that when no one save soldiers are looking,
mother and Ati strip to battle dress, step into their chariots with lances
in their hands, and charge about the countryside beneath Shar Dulur's
walls screaming like madwomen. I also have no doubt that mother will
stand in a chariot beside Gipul should he and the armies of Elam appear
beneath the walls of Ur. Gipul adores mother, has loved her ever since
she was a child, will march on Ur in fact only after long consultation
with mother. Despite the fancies and the fantasies in which mother
currently revels, however, she remains that which she has always been, a
product of Sumer's old and established culture, unquestionably the most
brilliant alive today. Mother, in her letters to me, offers many
suggestions. If I possess any brilliance myself, it is only enough to
recognize the absolute brilliance in mother's suggestions."
"You love your mother very deeply, Setiluth," and
again Areshen returned a questioning expression. At times the adoration
in Setiluth's features for her mother was little different than that shown
by countless others eager to call themselves Setith's children. At other
times, however, particularly when matters of business and financial
concern were being discussed, nothing more than Setith's fierce,
penetrating scowl appeared in Setiluth's features.
"I indeed love mother very deeply," Setiluth
answered with a gentle chuckle, obviously aware of the reason for the
question in her father's expression. "I do not stop loving mother when a
tabulation tablet sits on the table between us, nor do I cease being her
daughter. We both love each other very deeply, but - matters of business
must be attended to."
"A soldier standing on Shar Dulur's walls may
point to any one of a dozen donkey caravans, certain that Setith is fully
aware of the contents of the pack straddling any particular donkey's
back. For the past month now standing on Ur's walls, I have listened to
soldiers say the same of you, Setiluth. My expertise, however, consists
of little more than an ability to discern the thought in another man's
mind before a battle or a long march or such. I am indeed expert in this,
however, and I am certain that Ur's soldiers, particularly those who spend
their time pondering tabulation tablets, are well and truly pleased that
you are aware of the contents of every donkey pack. Their eyes tell a far
different story now than they did when Shubari sat in this palace, as do
the eyes of every householder on the streets of Ur. I do not know if
satisfaction in the eyes of someone on the streets of Ur is of any greater
importance to me than satisfaction in a soldier's eyes before I order him
into battle. I don't know if it should be. I do know, however, that both
Setith's and your householders seldom die in their twenties, seldom in
their thirties, not often in their forties. I cannot help but wonder if
the ease I detect in their eyes and their longevity is somehow connected."
"Have some more beer, father," Setiluth chuckled,
nodding toward one of her attendants. "It seems to help you think."
"Ordinarily," Areshen chuckled as well, "I have
always avoided situations necessitating the exercise. I have of late,
however, been unable to do so," Areshen continuing in quiet solemnity.
"Eta's family laying dead on their farm, Etwabi, others like her sleeping
on the street when their master's house is full - Urnammu, a hundred years
back, tried to fix it all by writing laws on stone, 'to protect the
orphan, to care for the widow.' It does not seem to me that much has been
fixed. We do, however, now have laws written on stone, and well dressed,
well fed advocates to argue them."
Again Setiluth broke into a soft chuckle.
"If I successfully convince Gipul, mother, and
perhaps even you, father, that Ur need not be sacked, it will not be for
any help I received from advocates arguing before tribunals. Advocates
today are little different than they were in Urnammu's time, and little
more relevant when it comes to the matters we have been discussing. Most
spend their days prosecuting a wealthy brick maker for delivering five,
instead of six loads of bricks. Others defend the wealthy brick maker.
When either the missing load of bricks has been found or damages have been
assessed by the judges, the advocates move on. Ur, however, will not live
or die because of them. People who are very poor and die in their
twenties never see an advocate. The more wealthy and influential of Ur's
High Priests have little more use for them."
"What of the gods, then?" Areshen asked with an
idle shrug. "If I understand my Holy Order, it is they who are the actual
owners of Ur.
"You are being kind to me, beloved. Seeking
someone to blame should Ur fail, you have passed over me and gone directly
to the gods. That is not a step very many people would expect you to
take."
"Perhaps not," Areshen laughed. "It seems to be a
step Ibisien has taken, however, according to several scribes who divide
their time between the king's palace and the walls. These scribes tell me
that one of the lamentations over Ibisien, a lamentation to be discovered
after his demise, assigns the blame for Ur's fall to Nanna. Enlil and the
gods, I now quote, 'had turned their eyes away from Ur. So Nanna
descended from the temple, walked to his holy boat, and sailed upriver to
Nippur in order to plead for Ur and Ibisien before Enlil and the Assembly
of the gods. The night before Nanna was to present his case, however, he
passed his time drinking beer in Nippur's public squares instead of
preparing his case. When Enlil and the Assembly of the gods met the next
morning to decide Ur's fate, Nanna lay drunk in the arms of a prostitute,
the tablets on which his case appeared sold by the prostitute for an ounce
of the pleasant drug. By the time Nanna finally arrived at the Assembly
of the gods, Enlil and the other gods had already decided on Ur's and
Ibisien's destruction, would hear no further argument from a god who was
late for Assembly because he had spent his night drinking beer in Nippur's
public square with a prostitute who had sold his legal tablets for an
ounce of the pleasant drug,'" and Areshen again met his daughter's eyes,
amusement and question in his own.
"This same lamentation has not yet been revealed
to me," Setiluth chuckled. "I suppose Ibisien's priests now have more
time to listen to the gods and compose lamentations. The king's palace
has by and large withdrawn from the world in order to lament its
misfortune. I cannot yet do so myself, nor, I suppose, can I devote a
great deal of my time listening to the lamentation priests. I certainly
cannot abandon myself to revelries of the senses, such disturbingly
common, I am informed, in Ibisien's palace, its inmates debauching
themselves and each other throughout the night quite as though the dawn of
another day was an uncertainty in their minds. To return to the point we
have been discussing, however, if Ur faces danger, it is from the east,
perhaps because of the disfavor of the gods, though I suspect such as a
missing load of bricks between here and Elam or a few sacks of grain
promised and never delivered to a clan of Su tribesmen along the frontiers
will also figure prominently in the problems between Ur and the east. And
Gipul is never going to forget how Shubari treated the daughters of Elam
sent to Ur; because of this, missing bricks and sacks of grain will be a
far greater source of irritation to Gipul and Elam. In the past month I
have found myself spending far more time looking for lost loads of bricks
and missing sacks of grain than I have spent listening to the gods.
Perhaps I will never be as good a High Priestess as mother because I
cannot do both at the same time."
"You are most competent doing the one, beloved
Setiluth. I personally spend very little time worrying about the other."
"I know, beloved," Setiluth laughed.
"And I know very little about either. I do,
however, sleep better knowing that it is Sumer's soldiers who stand in the
towers of this palace rather than the armed thugs who took orders from
Shubari," and Areshen buried his eyes to his daughter's in searching
question.
"I am your daughter," Setiluth answered as she
pushed herself to her feet, then grasped Areshen's hand and urged him from
the couch. "I am the High Priestess of Ur, an ancient temple city once
again, and I am your daughter, father."
Areshen nodded, though with an edge of lingering
confusion in his features.
"Walk with me. I want to show you something,
father," Setiluth answered, her smile gentle ease as she led Areshen
without haste from chamber to chamber, most quite as crowded as any temple
household in the outer city.
"Some of these people are mine," Setiluth began,
nodding toward those with gentle and complacent ease in their features.
"Others are still Shubari's," and Areshen glanced toward other faces, not
really certain. "At the moment, however, everyone sleeps well. That is
because I am your daughter. No one here doubts the coming of the dawn,
and no one doubts what the new day will bring."
Areshen nodded again, supposing he understood it
all as well as he ever would. He walked on with his daughter never
doubting their love for each other the emotional passion it had always
been. And as quickly, the grasp of Setiluth's hand to his own was
intimate, knowing warmth as she led him toward the door of the High
Priestess' private chambers.
"Stay with me for awhile, father."
Areshen nodded, searching Setiluth's eyes with
renewed caution as she led him into a small, unadorned chamber. Setiluth
promised with a resigned sigh and a gentle smile, little more than the
usual knowing, amused mischief in her features, Areshen decided as he
lowered himself onto the floor cushions, his attention for another long
moment on the cup he still held. Setiluth removing her long, flowing
gowns, sitting beside him wearing the plain, unpretentious dress worn by
most servants, Areshen couldn't help but see Setith in his daughter,
Setith as he had seen her twenty years ago when they had first married.
It was yet again the mischief he supposed it was always to be between
himself and his older daughter, Setiluth's dance for him a half moment's
exotic display just to be certain that it was pride, at the least, in his
eyes. Setiluth's touch, however, remained a daughter's as she lowered
herself into his arms. Areshen took her into close embrace quite aware
that she would ask at least once during the course of the evening for that
which he could not in good conscience give. For some time now, however,
Setiluth had usually asked just once, little more than a moment's
disappointment in her eyes for his answer.
"You have slept in the wall fortress for a month
now, father," Setiluth chuckled. "Sargon, when in Ur, slept at his
daughter's side in this very chamber. Sargon, beloved, gave his daughter
a divine child," and Areshen sat in sighing amusement for the sudden
though very apparent touch of pleading warmth in Setiluth's caress, the
teasing question in her smile. It seemed almost some bizarre, necessary
convention between the two of them.
"Most in the north," Areshen answered, "say that
it was not Sargon, but Sargon's son who was a god, do they not? Is it not
a pressing issue of contention, rival schools postulating -"
"Yes, father - of course," Setiluth answered with
a chuckling sigh, gave up, and lowered her head to Areshen's chest in
gentle, emotional warmth. My daughter, Areshen whispered to himself with
intentional vehemence, never able to deny the rest. Setiluth was in fact
that which Setith had always been, physical perfection, alluring beauty to
almost unimaginable extremes. And Setiluth was possessed of all Setith's
keen, penetrating intelligence, a half instant's glance enough. Areshen
cradled his daughter in his arms, hadn't even in that moment the least
doubt that his love for her was emotional violence from the honest depths
of his heart. And with that he gazed for a fleeting yet timeless instant
toward a young woman who concealed absolutely nothing, a young woman
resting in his arms eminently aware that he now struggled with his
feelings, guarding them with intentional effort - and knowing the moment
that which it had been any number of times already. Areshen edged his
eyes toward hers another timeless instant, ultimate intimacies hanging in
the air between the two of them - a beautiful young woman to crush her
lips to his with frantic, pleading intimacy, her caresses blatant and
undisguised she knowing that his resistance would collapse in the end.
Areshen cradled his daughter in his arms allowing
himself the ultimate for another moment and another timeless eternity. A
half instant's glance was enough, that in Setiluth's eyes which he
supposed he would never entirely comprehend - and yet that which just
wasn't concealed any more. He gave himself up to the ultimate always
hanging in the air between the two of them - saw in that same timeless
instant all of the wild, reeling ecstasy he'd known he would see ablaze in
her eyes. It was all something a world more than just assent on her part
- she burying her eyes to his seeing everything she'd for so long now
wanted to see. A instant's retreat was nothing more than another timeless
eternity. He cradled a daughter in his arms who he loved with abandoned,
passionate violence. Seeking a High Priestess for Ur's temple palace, he
hadn't hesitated for an instant, his own daughter Setiluth the only
possible choice. And a half instant's retreat ended the thing that which
it seemed it had always been. His love for his sweet Setiluth was in some
ways the passion of his life, she hiding nothing, her love for him never
less than as frantic a passion - and he burying his eyes to hers a moment
and a timeless eternity the finished, primal intimacies spoken as readily
as they always were. He cradled a woman he loved with frantic, burning
passion of every possible sort in his arms, saw reeling ecstasy in her
eyes she seeing the ultimate in his own, she knowing it for him the
immersing, abandoned warmth it was for her - knowing it could in another
moment become the same raw, primal want for both of them.
And with that, Areshen sought escape from
something to which he simply couldn't succumb, another half instant, to
Setiluth's sighing resignation, enough.
"You now see even less of your husband, I
suppose?" Areshen asked.
"Mother and I are negotiating terms over a wool
factory in Oculun. Deturu is there inspecting it for me now. He then
travels to Isin in order to conclude negotiations with mother," Setiluth
glancing up toward the annoyance in Areshen's eyes, her voice gentle
protest when she continued. "I spent half of an entire evening with him
just ten days ago before I was called back to the palace on business."
"Martila has already given Setith and me two
grandchildren, and she is a year younger than you, sweet Setiluth."
"Perhaps soon," Setiluth laughed, her expression
quiet solemnity a quick moment later. "Are you going to remain in Ur a
bit longer, beloved?" and again Areshen felt pleading strength in his
daughter's embrace, crushed her to his heart knowing her emotions never
entirely uncomplicated. She was, he simply decided, his daughter.
"You are still frightened at times, Setiluth?"
"A little, father. What mistress of Ur would not
be were she possessed of any reason whatsoever? I would tremble
uncontrollably where you to leave Ur tomorrow. Perhaps in another few
weeks, another month, I will have become accustomed to it all."
"Meneturu writes from Shar Dulur stating that
there are no wars of consequence along the borders, not, at least, at the
moment. It seems the Amuru are celebrating Shubari's demise with far
greater enthusiasm than they celebrated the sack of Nippur. It will be at
least another month before I am needed anywhere along the frontiers.
Meshduri writes that he will visit his family here in Ur in ten days
time."
"Oh, that is not fair. I will loose you to
Meshduri now. I've been waiting a month for you to climb down from the
walls and spend some time with me, and now you and Meshduri will spend
your time wandering from one tavern to the next."
"I will visit Meshduri, then come back to you,"
Areshen chuckled as Setiluth, with an easy smile, pressed her kiss to his
cheek. Areshen allowed the kiss its gentle, possessive passion for a
quick moment, pulled Setiluth back into the warmth of an emotional
embrace.
"When Sargon's daughter occupied these chambers,"
Setiluth continued, "it was her father's own troops who stood on both the
city's and the Sacred Area's walls. I suppose that must have been a great
source of comfort to her, particularly since she was not even from Ur, but
like Sargon, from the north. Several days ago the scribes brought me some
very interesting tablets, tablets inscribed in several cases two or three
hundred years ago, though it is difficult to date some of them with any
real degree of precision. Some of these tablets are fascinating,
however. The price of combed wool two hundred years ago, for instance - "
and with a soft, contented smile, Areshen held his daughter in gentle
embrace as she expounded on the financial aspects of the cloth trade as it
had existed between Ur and cities far to the north during the time of
Sargon. Setiluth edged her eyes again to his, continuing her dissertation
when she assumed the smile he returned spoke something at least close to
genuine interest. Areshen settled into a mood of idle, complacent ease,
held his remarkably beautiful and intelligent daughter in close embrace,
though again he supposed he would never entirely understand why someone as
brilliant as Setiluth wanted so desperately nothing less than the ultimate
intimacy. Areshen gazed toward the walls of a small private chamber in
the High Priestess' palace for another long moment, lowered his eyes again
toward Setiluth as she continued her dissertation on the ancient cloth
trade. He couldn't help but notice the gentle, idle intimacy in the
caress of Setiluth's hand to his own. Nor, he supposed again, could he
deny how the obvious depth of Setiluth's feelings for him had affected
him, all this so much more apparent when he pondered his feelings for
Martila. Martila was another who genuinely loved her father, perhaps a
bit more passionately than most other daughters might. Martila, however,
a light hearted young woman with an easy, uncomplicated smile always in
her features, seemed to find a complete and sufficient happiness in her
husband and children, her embrace whenever Areshen visited her never
anything but a daughter's.
Areshen again edged his eyes toward Setiluth's,
her voice quiet, contemplative ease, her caresses idle warmth yet always
some pleading, urging intimacy. He couldn't again escape ultimate
intimacies, the young woman he cradled in his arms passionately, painfully
- romantically in love with him, she never concealing a thing, she even in
the midst of quiet, academic musing speaking the violence of her love for
him. He couldn't again escape the depth of his feelings for her, couldn't
deny that he had answered the obvious passion of her love for him. He
edged his eyes again toward the young woman he cradled in his arms - she
perhaps her mother for another fleeting moment, Setiluth certainly in
appearance Setith's twin, Setiluth in demeanor all of Setith's self
assured, confident poise. Areshen edged rational and lucid eyes toward
his daughter - and yet just couldn't, in the end, escape the ultimate,
couldn't deny that he had fallen as violently in love with her.
And having, in fact, to whatever extent, fallen in
love with Setiluth, Areshen supposed this at least part of the reason why
he had for some time now felt something a great deal more than an
uncomplicated emotional warmth sitting in her arms. Nor were the feelings
simply physical and without emotion; they were in fact, Areshen admitted
to himself, little different from those he had always felt for Setith, the
passionate intensity of which was something a great deal more than simple,
physical arousal. And Setiluth, Areshen realized with final resignation,
knew exactly how he felt about her, her caress an expression of delight
and joy when with some innate sense of the thing she felt the nature and
the strength of his love for her in his embrace.
And all of this, Areshen realized with gratitude
toward whatever it was enabling him to do so, was easily dismissed. My
sweet, beloved daughter, Areshen whispered to himself, and the word
daughter was more than enough. That must be proof, Areshen decided in
easy humor, that I am no god - and a moment later realized that Setiluth,
with a glaring frown, was gazing toward the amusement now most likely
evident in his features.
"There was absolutely nothing funny about what I
just said," Setiluth protested.
"I'm sorry, beloved - the price of combed wool in
Sargon's time. Fascinating."
Setith released a chuckling sigh, her embrace
gentle warmth a quick moment later.
"You listened to me with genuine interest for
quite some time before you finally drifted away. I suppose I should be
pleased. Mother tells me that you steal away from Assembly in Shar Dulur
with your fishing line as soon as the first brick or sack of grain in
mentioned."
"Setith needs no more help from me ordering the
finances of Isin than you do, Setiluth, with those of Ur."
"Perhaps not," Setiluth chuckled, settling into
quiet thought a quick moment later. As usual, Setiluth with stolen
glances had seen every last intimacy, was quite aware of the thought
toward which Areshen had drifted.
"Father, I'm very deeply in love with you. But
you know that. But you're very deeply in love with me, aren't you?"
"I cannot hide it from you?"
"You don't really try to. Not any more."
"No," Areshen admitted. "I suppose I don't."
"I can feel how deeply in love with me you are,
beloved. In the west, in Egypt, you could marry your sister, you know."
"I have no sister. And I've never been to Egypt."
Setiluth allowed herself another moment’s gentle
amusement, searching question again in her eyes when she once more met
Areshen’s.
"And you will not make love to me, will you,
father?"
"Setiluth -" Areshen tried in searching
desperation, "if you asked me - if you said the words - how can I say the
word never -" Areshen searching the depths of his mind, that first evening
Setiluth had indeed asked a memory never far from his concern. "If - if
you pulled me into your arms again, Setiluth - "
Setiluth struggled as well, quite aware that an
instant's urging caress might be more than enough.
"But - " Setiluth tried, the depth of emotion now
awash her features, "but it would not make you happy, beloved?"
"No, beloved, it would not. Of that - I'm certain
-”
"Because I am your daughter?"
"Yes. That is far more important to me than the
fact that we are in love with each other."
Setiluth broke into an accepting smile, pressing
her lips to Areshen's cheek in a long moment's gentle touch, her smile
emotional warmth when Areshen returned her kiss.
"Then I will be satisfied with your kiss, father,
even if I cannot understand how you feel."
"You were raised in Ur, Setiluth, in Setith's
house, something very close to a palace. I was raised on a pig farm in
Sannu. I suppose we will never completely understand each other."
"I have tried to do so, have tried to place myself
into your mind, but I always settle back into my own. I am your daughter,
father, not another's daughter. Because I am your daughter, father, I am
therefore also your wife. When I knew that you had fallen in love with
me, father, I felt certain that we would finally make love to each other
without inhibition. After all, as you implied - we will always have that
which we gave to each other that first evening I asked for your love. I
suppose, however, I must admit that I have made you fall in love with me.
At the very least, I have made it easy for you to do so, all the while
suspecting that it would be me who would be the consort wife of your heart
in Ur. And in legal fact," Setiluth continued with a touch of returning
humor, "I am."
"But a kiss will be enough? At least for now?
"Yes," Setiluth answered, meeting Areshen's eyes
in quiet, emotional humor. "I've given up hoping for more than a kiss. I
am certain, however, that you love me as deeply as I love you. It no
longer matters to me how. I am happy, beloved."
Areshen broke into a soft, emotional chuckle
himself as he wrapped Setiluth into his arms, doubting, however, that she
would ever give up entirely. Launching again into a distracted discussion
regarding the financial aspects of Ur's cloth industry, Setiluth curled
herself into a daughter's embrace. Perhaps, Areshen suspected, her
efforts to honor her promise had been genuine. Setiluth would never pass
an entire evening, however, without some subtle searching caress in order
to be certain that his feelings for her had not changed, particularly the
sensual depth of those feelings. Entrancement in her features, she raised
her eyes to his - the thing yet again that which it always was, a glance
enough.
Areshen met a young woman's pleading eyes, a sigh
from the depths of his soul as he prepared to pull her into the final,
passionate violence of the love they both knew the felt for each other. A
god, so many had told him for so long now, has no need whatsoever to deny
that which any other father might feel for a daughter as beautiful as
Setiluth.
And with that, Areshen broke into something very
close to laughter. Setiluth, as usual, sighed a very genuine measure of
irritation, settling gradually into emotional warmth as she rested her
head once more to Areshen's chest.
Continued
