Ur

By D E Austin

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XX

"I would have thought Setiluth might have been furious with me when I started shouting in her court," Areshen stated as he gazed down the long corridor running through the center of the High Priestess' palace, then toward Setith clinging in affectionate embrace to his arm. "Look at this, beloved," Areshen continued, wonder in his features as he gazed up and down the corridors. "It's a street, running right through the middle of this building. There are others along the walls leading to the guard towers. You can walk from one side of this building to the other without ever passing through a chamber or a courtyard. I've seen whole towns in the north with just chambers and courtyards. Only in Ur would you see a building with streets running through it."
Setith broke into a soft chuckle as she lay her lips to Areshen's in quick, gentle touch.
"That is why Setiluth was not furious with you, beloved. Setiluth and I are creatures of Ur, quite accustomed to buildings with - streets running through them. Neither of us will ever be the barbarian from Isin. Neither of us, however, would long be anything at all without you."
Areshen met Setith's eyes in concern, sighing in resignation a quick moment later.
"You know it to be the truth, beloved," Setith continued. "There can only be one true King of the Four Quarters. And you needn't have shouted toward the prosecuting advocate at all. Had you just cleared your throat loudly enough to call attention to yourself, he'd have jumped quite as quickly. Had you not been in attendance, Setiluth would have been able to respond to the prosecuting advocates' insult and challenge without a great deal of difficulty, though in her case, a rather loud and vehement response might have been necessary, even with Ibisien and myself in attendance. You have simple saved her the trouble of having to raise her voice, the indignity, I might add, of having to do so. And Setiluth's throne is very different from my own. A queen's throne, as often as not, can be something very different from her husband's throne. A daughter, however, does nothing more than sit in her father's stead. Setiluth would have had no possible reason to be furious with you when you stood in her defense. Quite the contrary, actually. She was probably ecstatic that you did so."
"But I have very little in the way of advice to offer her, Setith. Whatever Setiluth does on her throne, she does alone."
"Exactly," Setith chuckled. "All the more reason it is important that no one misunderstand the situation as it is. Setiluth's decisions are going to irritate a great many people in Ur, and they are indeed going to be her own decisions. She would never dream of subjecting herself to that which most likely lies ahead were she not certain that a very strong emotional bond existed between herself and you," and Setith turned with curiosity in her eyes. "What did bring you to the tribunal in the first place, beloved? You usually take extraordinary pains to avoid such proceedings."
"I met Teru at Heluth's. He told me his case was going to be heard today."
"Ah," Setith returning a mischievous smile of accusation, her embrace, however, still one of genuine emotional affection.
"I will never understand," Areshen sighed. "I have for twenty years been an object of derision because I have no concubines. You yourself thought it quite bizarre. Why is it adultery between Heluth and me?"
"Heluth is free, without master or mistress, and a minor order priestess."
"Heluth is also - "
"Yes," Setith laughed. "I know, beloved. Most priestesses in small tavern shrines are. It would be very difficult for them to survive without doing business in their back chambers. Unless they are Naditu women, however, pledged to perpetual abstinence, it is an acceptable practice."
Areshen sighed, supposing he would never really understand the city in the shadow of which he had been born, and finally walked with Setith into the High Priestess' chambers.
A short time later, Areshen sat on floor cushions with cup in hand as Setith and Setiluth played with each other's hair on a sleeping shelf next to the opposite wall. Again Areshen couldn't help but wonder at the uncanny resemblance between mother and daughter. Only when he held Setith in intimate embrace could he detect any appreciable difference at all. And his earlier assumption that Setith was secure in her role as mother now appeared to be wrong. It seemed that circumstances determined who was who.
"I suppose," Setith continued as she grasped Setiluth's hands, Setith's posture and expression a child's seeking the safety and warmth of a parent's love, "the temple of Miruli on the walls could put me up. My house is no longer fit - "
"Mother," Setiluth groaned, a mix of annoyance and amusement in an expression of parental concern as she pulled Setith into her arms, "stop it at once. You are going nowhere. I love you dearly, mother, and you are sleeping right here in my arms," and it was Setith who lowered her head onto Setiluth's shoulder, Setiluth again pulling her mother into a daughter's embrace.
Areshen chuckled for the thought, lifted his cup, and again glanced toward two women, the only two women in the world, he supposed, without whom he would be completely lost. Part of the reason for this might well have been their administrative abilities, Setith now the undisputed mistress of Shar Dulur and the north and thus much of the civilized world, Setiluth mistress of Ur once more an ancient temple city. Still, Meneturu had been perfectly capable of keeping Shar Dulur a pace away from complete financial disaster. And Ibisien in Ur, when pressed, had many times in the past endured sobriety for days at a time in order to hold in check the most outrageous of the measures proposed by the Shubari faction. Areshen little doubted that he was dependant on Setith and Setiluth for emotional rather than pragmatic reasons. Both Setith and Setiluth proclaimed themselves emotionally dependant on him, though Areshen supposed he would never really understand why or how. He glanced again toward mother and daughter as they released their embrace, both gazing with emotional intimacy into each other's eyes, searching, perhaps, Areshen suspected, their latest declaration of love for each other all that mattered to them.
"All right, beloved," Setith finally stated. "I will accept your gracious offer of hospitality."
"And you are going to stay for a long time, are you not, mother?" Setiluth pleaded, suddenly and obviously the daughter once more.
"It is very difficult for you, Setiluth, isn't it, my sweet baby?"
"Sometimes, mother, it is very difficult. The first thing I do every morning is check with the clerks to see if another letter from you has arrived during the night. If one has not, the clerks scatter in every direction at my approach, certain that I will direct my rage toward them."
"I suppose everyone suspects that the daughter must be the maniacal terror the mother is reputed to be," Setith sighed. Setiluth, however, broke into a soft chuckle.
"Gipul wrote a few days ago, mother, mostly business, a few personal notes, however. He still loves you dearly, mother, but oh how terrified he is of you. In bluster and fury he details exactly how he is going to sack Ur. Then, meek as a lamb, Gipul assures me that he will in fact sack Ur only, of course, after long and careful consultation with the queen of Isin," and Setiluth again broke into soft laughter as she ran her eyes down her mother's body. "Did you really toss Gipul back and forth across the wrestling mats, mother? Gipul is as big as a house, and you're so much slighter than even I am."
Areshen raised his eyes in wonder, quite unable to detect the slightest difference in Setith's and Setiluth's figures.
"Gipul and I are both older now," Setith chuckled. "Those contests occurred a very long time ago."
"Nevertheless, Gipul has certainly not forgotten them," and again Setiluth glanced in close inspection toward her mother's body, this time placing her hands in gentle embrace to Setith's waist. "Mother, please eat. Look at you. It will do none of your dependents any good if you starve yourself. And besides," Setiluth continued with an expression of conspiratorial amusement, "there is no longer any reason for you to retire to your sleeping chambers hungry. My spies inform me that Isin is now quite financially sound, your constant protestations that you cannot afford to accept my perfectly reasonable purchase offers so much nonsense."
"Outrageous," Setith protested, both her and Setiluth's scowls now perfect copies. "Your spies are self serving scoundrels feeding you malicious lies."
"Oh mother," Setiluth groaned, and an instant later, as though two different people now sat across the room from him, Areshen watched Setiluth once more place gentle hands to her mother's waist, Setiluth's expression deep, emotional concern.
"Beloved, please promise me that you will eat. Do not endanger your health."
"Yes, beloved, I promise," and Areshen reached again for his cup, stealing a curious glance toward the emotional affection in mother and daughter's features which a quick moment before had appeared very much like a portrait in stone.
Both Setith and Setiluth, Areshen realized once more, were unquestionably two of Sumer and Akkad's most brilliant women. Perhaps, he chuckled, that had something to do with it all, though he suspected he would never understand the intricacies of their personalities. The first time he had ever seen Setith, she had seemed as strange as any other young woman who came from a wealthy, noble Sumerian family, women who called their own mothers beloved, a very sensual term, kissing them on the lips in a manner far more passionate than one might ever expect to see on the small tenant farm where he had been raised. Before he had married Setith, Areshen's entire world had been a pig farm and military field tents; he'd since then made no great effort whatsoever to understand the finer points of Sumer's social structure, was more than content to leave such matters in Setith's and Setiluth's hands.
Areshen glanced again toward wife and daughter for a long, studying moment, both once more playing with each other's hair in close, intimate silence. Perhaps, Areshen mused, their obvious and unrivaled intelligence was also the reason Setith and Setiluth expressed their hidden fears only to each other, fears he further realized were very genuine. Both Setith and Setiluth were keenly aware of their roles in life; they understood them, Areshen suspected, to a far greater extent than he understood his own place in the overall scheme of things. Every living thing in Sumer and Akkad save for a few free tavern mistresses without social or legal bond to another, soldiers on active service, and a small number of householders still belonging to Ibisien and the palace of Ur, were now dependents either of the queen of Isin or the High Priestess of Ur, two women who now sat across the room from him entranced with nothing more than each other's hair. Neither Setith nor Setiluth, however, were Shubari's, fatter with every passing day no matter how others faired. And Areshen had felt both Setith's and Setiluth's soft tremble any number of times as he held them in supporting embrace, offering whatever emotional comfort he could as they expressed their concerns regarding affairs of state the finer points of which would always elude him. Setith, indeed, after she had been dispossessed of her holdings in the south, had all but starved herself in several month's furious and frantic effort to provide for her new dependents in the north after the siege and sack of Nippur.
Only over the course of the past several months during his sojourn here in Ur, however, had Areshen come to appreciate, at least to a small extent, the difficulties Setith and Setiluth faced. For twenty years he had passed his time protecting Sumer and Akkad along the frontiers. For the past eight years as Sumer and Akkad's largely undisputed military master, he had done very little more, relying on old Meneturu and others with similar clerical abilities to keep things in at least some degree of order back home. Save for sporadic incidents such as the sack of Nippur's and Uruk's temples, Areshen preferred to involve himself in Sumer's civil affairs by doing little more than impressing his seal on whatever document Meneturu placed onto the table in front of him, reading that document, perhaps, if the fish didn't happen to be biting that day, a very rare occurrence along the banks of the canal near Shar Dulur.
Glancing again toward Setith and Setiluth, Areshen was quite aware that he could, if he now desired to do so, spend all of his time along the banks of some canal somewhere with fishing line in hand, though he supposed he would feel compelled to do so within a reasonable distance of the nearest military dispatch station, at least until he could embrace both Setith and Setiluth and no longer detect that ever present trace of a tremble in their bodies.
"Mother," Setiluth finally continued in an idle though quiet and solemn voice, "you know Gipul, and you're far better acquainted with Elam and the east. I have told myself that which you have always told yourself, that I will try to be a good High Priestess. But I fear Gipul has already, at least in a corner of his mind, decided that Ur must eventually be sacked."
Areshen raised his eyes in studying attention. Setith, as she drew a comb and fingers through another tangle in Setiluth's long, dark hair, released a deep, contemplative sigh.
"I fear you may be correct, dear. There is uncounted weight of gold and silver in this place, much more in the Sacred Area's other palaces and temples, cups, chalices, statues. It would take years to count it all, forever to determine where it came from and how it came to be here. Without doubt some of it came from Elam, not as much as Gipul and documents throughout Elam might claim, probably more than like documents here in Ur will admit."
"Gipul mentions Lueti's necklace in his most recent letter, mother. The temple of Cestoludi claims that it was stolen by a military governor sent to Elam by Ibisien's grandfather."
"Ur has plenty of necklaces," Areshen decided to interject. "Why not just send this particular one back. One less necklace - " Areshen shrugged, and waited for his wife and daughter to turn and stare toward the desert barbarian, pleasantly surprised when they turned with nothing more than thoughtful, contemplative expressions.
"I have commissioned a search of the palace archives, father," Setiluth began. "If I can find sufficient evidence that the necklace was indeed stolen, I will have little difficulty justifying a promulgation ordering its return. There would be far fewer complications, however," Setiluth continued with a long, despondent sigh, "if the damn necklace were not still around Lueti's horrible little neck."
"Lueti cannot be found?" Areshen asked, and a quick moment later Setith and Setiluth were finally staring toward the barbarian from the western deserts.
"I know exactly where Lueti is," Setiluth chuckled. "You have been sleeping on her for the past month now, father."
“Oh…” and Areshen assumed it mostly stupidity now in his own features.
"She was a High Priestess here," Setiluth continued with a gentle, relenting smile, "a hundred years ago when Elam claims that the necklace was stolen. She's buried twenty feet below the cushions on which year are now laying."
"Oh," Areshen answered, deciding that enough, and returned his attention to something he knew about - his beer.
"Even if I did dig up horrible old Lueti and remove the necklace from whatever is left of her neck," Setiluth continued with another pondering sigh, "that would solve just one of a thousand issues of contention between Ur and Elam, and the problems have been growing for well over a thousand years now. Several days ago I walked out to the temple of Imurani - that is where most of the archive's older tablets are kept, father," and Areshen smiled as genuinely as he could over the top of his beer for a daughter's gracious explanation to a largely untutored, uninformed father. "Some of the tablets are very ancient, the language Sumerian, but archaic and difficult to understand. It does seem, however, that when Epenatu allowed a hundred of his maid servants to accompany him into his tomb, some of the jewelry they wore came from Elam, as did the jewels in the Holy Death Cup from which the household drank. The daughters of Elam, however, were turned away when they appeared at the tomb pleading to accompany Epenatu into the next world, an atrocious insult to Gurshen, then king of Elam. The tablets do not say why the daughters of Elam were turned away."
"They pled to get into the tomb?" Areshen asked.
"Those were different times, father," Setiluth answered. "In Epenatu's time, there was no word for apostate. And the bond between an ancient king such as Epenatu and his household was far closer than anything one sees today. I was heartbroken when I read the story of the daughters of Elam. How the poor girls must have wept when they were turned away from their beloved's tomb, turned away, no doubt, by some petty, self serving clerk with a grudge against Elam," something like fury washing across Setith's eyes.
Areshen, however, felt only an old anxiety, quite aware that Setiluth, the epitome of ancient piety, would be first at the door of his own tomb in Isin if he didn't have that miserable hole in the ground filled in.
"Father," Setiluth continued in easy humor, Setiluth pious perhaps, but always brilliant and perceptive as well, "do not worry. You are going to live for a very long time. You're impious enough to outlive all of us just to deny us a place beside you in your tomb. And besides, the High Priest of Isin follows your instructions to the letter. He will not even talk to mother and me."
"Setith -?" Areshen began, surprise and annoyance in his features. Setiluth and impressionable, foolish young women belonging to the household of Isin - yes, but he had never suspected that Setith, the model of poise and commanding self assurance, might also have requested a place beside him in his tomb, not, at least, before he natural time.
Setith raised thoughtful, searching eyes. Finally, however, she just released a long, contemplative sigh, uncharacteristic uncertainty in her features.
"I can't explain it, beloved," Setith began. "As I have told you, I believe there is an order of some sort, be it Holy or whatever. When Shubari decreed that my place was not at your side, only then did I realize how absolutely apostate Shubari really was. I cannot imagine myself anywhere but at your side. I never could, no matter what the physical distance between us. Even when our former positions necessitated that we reside for many months at considerable distances from each other, I felt that my heart lay always next to your own. When you begin your journey to the next world, it would be very difficult for me not to accompany you."
"When I begin my journey to the next world," Areshen sighed, "I will go ahead of you. I will leave signposts along the way. You and whoever else wants to can follow along in your own good time."
Both Setith and Setiluth broke into soft laughter.
"I feel nothing but loneliness," Areshen sighed, now in quiet solemnity, "thinking that the living would just walk of their own accord into a dead man's tomb.
"Don't be lonely, father, please," Setiluth cried in urging vehemence as she grasped Setith's hand, both pushing themselves from the bench onto the floor cushions and into Areshen's arms. Perhaps, Areshen mused when he rather abruptly realized that this was the first time in a great many years that he had held both his wife and his daughter at the same time, doing so would seem like the last time. It was Setiluth, however, who pressed her lips to his cheek. For quite some time now, Setiluth had carefully guarded the passion both she and Areshen were quite aware existed between them whenever they touched, Setiluth just as aware that Areshen wished her to do so, or at the very least make a genuine attempt to do so. Areshen suspected that Setiluth would certainly do so at the moment, the warmth of both hers and Setith's arms surrounding him. Setiluth's kiss was gentle ease for little more than an instant, however. When she raised her eyes, it was in close and intimate embrace, Setiluth's features not in the least what Areshen might have expected. Setiluth leaned forward again, this time pressed her kiss to Areshen's lips. Perhaps a quick light touch, he supposed, certainly little more at the moment. Before he could in any way prepare himself, however, Setiluth had buried her lips to his own in pleading sensuality as intimate as any they had yet shared, her arms in touch quite as sensual and intimate.
When Setiluth finally raised her eyes, however, there was little more than ease and gentle humor in her features, the same, to Areshen's amaze, in Setith's.
"I am your wife, father," Setiluth began. "I know you do not believe it, but I do. And if nothing else, I have just proven that I believe it. I have no doubts whatsoever. In the same way, mother and I both believe that our places are at your side, now and forever. Do not feel lonely, father, because of the fact that neither of us could bare to be separated from you even by the tomb's door. It is simply what we believe. It is who we are. And we believe that what we are can no longer be separated from that which you are. We believe that the bond which exists between ourselves and you to be Holy Order's most binding and permanent, far more so than an ordinary marriage bond. The same bond exists between yourself and every other person in Sumer and Akkad, and now exists between yourself and Ur through me save for households belonging to Ibisien and the palace, a dozen or so of which seek to remedy that situation with every passing day."
Areshen gazed both toward Setith and Setiluth, quite aware that his expression conveyed very limited, if any understanding.
Setith, however, just broke into a soft chuckle as she continued where Setiluth had left off.
"It just means, beloved, that all of Sumer and Akkad, most of Ur now as well, is legally entitled to accompany you into your tomb. Setiluth and I are both aware that you are going to allow no one to do so. We both love you, however. We consider ourselves to be married to you both in the ordinary bond of marriage as well as the bond of Holy Order, and we cannot imagine ourselves standing anywhere but at the door of your tomb, hoping that you will relent. Only a fortunate few, however, will be allowed admittance. The rest will have to remain in this world and await their own time."
"Perhaps," Areshen sighed, finally settling into gentle ease despite the close embrace of two women he passionately loved, "perhaps all of this would have seemed easier to me had I been born in Egypt and the physicians had slapped divinity into me the moment I was born."
"What?" both Setith and Setiluth laughed.
"Ibisien," Areshen just shrugged.
"That sounds like something he would say," Setith chuckled, "no doubt after a good many cups."
"A good many," Areshen chuckled, and glanced again toward Setith and Setiluth now embracing him in a posture they obviously intended to maintain for the rest of the night.
"Is it not wrong for a husband to sleep with two wives at the same time?" Areshen asked. "In Isin, Setith, you admitted that it was."
"It is not wrong for you to sleep with your wife and daughter," Setith chuckled. "When Setiluth and Martila were children, all four of us slept in each other's arms many times."
"I see," Areshen answered, then broke into a smile of subtle challenge, doubting that his challenge would be successful, though he decided to try anyway. "Then Holy Order, Setiluth, allows you to transform back and forth between wife and daughter as you choose?"
"Oh father," Setiluth sighed. "I kissed you to make a point. I would never dream of anything more at the moment," a mix of delight and mischief suddenly awash in Setiluth's eyes. "Besides, I am neither mother nor Ati. I am far more pious and reserved."
"Setith -" Areshen exclaimed as he turned. "You told Setiluth?" and Areshen gazed with straining intensity toward Setith's now mischievous smile as he pondered again that morning in Shar Dulur when he had awoken to find both Setith and Ati in his arms. "What - what did you tell Setiluth?" Areshen mumbled, doubting, however, that Setith would answer.
"Nothing of consequence," Setith mumbled as well, both she and Setiluth breaking into soft, conspiratorial laughter, both grasping each others hands as they settled back into quiet intimacy. "You will love Ati when you meet her, Setiluth," Setith continued, the secret, if there was one, safely locked away in her own, and now it seemed, Setiluth's minds. "Ati is your father in every way, an absolute apostate, but absolutely brilliant as well. I suppose that's why your father fell in love with her, the reason I did so myself. And she was well respected throughout Shar Dulur when she was a cleaning girl. No one scoffed at whatever little wisdom she cared to offer. Oh Setiluth, I could never return to Isin and its throne were it not Ati waiting for me on that throne."
Areshen again felt that same hint of a tremble in both Setith's and Setiluth's embrace. Nor did it really feel like mother and daughter in his arms; in a very real way, Areshen realized as the depths of his feelings for Setiluth once more settled into his heart, it felt indeed quite as though he held two wives in embrace, two lovers to draw his thought to its conclusion. And both Setith and Setiluth, now in solemn, frightened moods, seemed to find comfort only in his embrace. This, Areshen decided, was all that was of real and pressing importance at the moment, he allowing both Setith and Setiluth to settle into close and intimate embrace.
"Ati," Areshen began, deciding on another amusing little challenge in order to settle everyone's emotions, "makes another point for me in my relentless battle against Holy Order, a Holy Order which set Ati to work scrubbing Shar Dulur's floors. Ati should have sat Isin's throne from the moment of her birth."
Again, to Areshen's amazement and delight, Setith and Setiluth returned nothing more than thoughtful, contemplative expressions. This, Areshen smiled, quite pleased with himself, has been an exceptionally good day.
"Eta, I suppose," Setiluth chuckled when she noticed Areshen's grin, "makes your point as well, father. Born on a tenant farm perhaps, but on oath, father, she is a remarkable young woman. Officials in every chamber here in the palace may smile in amusement whenever Eta visits and offers her little suggestions. As soon as Eta's back is turned, however, these same officials pass Eta's suggestions through their minds once again, running to their scribe's table a very short moment later with brilliant ideas they've decided to make their own. In the morning, tablets from these same officials sit waiting for me on my own table, and the officials beam with pleasure and pride when I compliment them for their ideas; they are brilliant indeed. They are also, nine times out of ten, various little schemes Eta has told me about two or three days earlier. I shall miss her very badly when you and mother take her to Isin with you."
"Eta tells me," Areshen began in speculative thought, "that she would be just as happy remaining here in Ur with you, Setiluth."
"There is no reason why she cannot," Setiluth shrugged, continuing in amusement. "Gipul has a dozen harems scattered from one side of Elam to the other."
"I do not intent to form harems," Areshen sighed.
"When Gipul visits one of his harems," Setith continued, gentle amusement now in her eyes as well, "he will walk to whatever attractive young woman catches his eye and say, 'you are very beautiful, my dear. Are you my wife, or are you my daughter?' Nine of every ten daughters will answer, 'I am your wife, beloved.' Poor Gipul never realized what was going on until about five years ago. Since then he has required grown daughters to live in separate courts. In his last letter to me, however, he asked if I had any other suggestions. He suspects that daughters are still secreting themselves into the wives' courts whenever he is scheduled to visit."
Areshen broke into a soft chuckle, though he couldn't help but notice the emotional strength with which Setith and Setiluth now grasped each other's hands. It was very obvious that the love between mother and daughter had never stopped growing, just as obvious that no subject was too intimate for them, secrets of every sort darting one from the other with little more than an instant's glance. Perhaps Setith's remarks concerning Gipul and his daughters had a broader point, though Areshen could only guess as to it exact nature. Did Setith approve of the fact that Setiluth wished more than a father's love from him, or was she trying to express something else?
For the moment, however, both Setith and Setiluth seemed quite content to rest in an embrace of gentle, emotional affection. That, Areshen decided, was for the moment quite enough. Still, he couldn't help but ponder again that subtle expression of wicked mischief which crept across Setith's features whenever he mentioned that strange evening in Shar Dulur when he had awaken to find both Setith and Ati sleeping in his arms. Areshen set his cup aside, deciding he must maintain sober control over his wits for the rest of the evening, must, if necessary, forgo sleep entirely. One erotic little secret was more than enough.

 

Continued