Evening fell over the city of Akkad. Life returned to the palace with the light of the moon, yet in my room, it remained quiet. The servants silently helped me from the water, patting my skin dry before anointing it with an abundance of a desert rose perfume. The fragrance was so potent, I might as well have transformed into a flower myself.
The Tyrian purple linen covered with tiers of fringe, which was gifted by the city of Kazallu, only enhanced this illusion of a flower. The old woman wrapped it around, covering me from chest to ankle in the deep violet colour that was accentuated by the golden bracelets and heavy golden chain emblazoned with amethysts. "A dress fit for a goddess," she commented once she looked me over.
Glancing at my reflection in the polished gold, I couldn't agree more. This dress, these jewels, were made for a woman of greatness, meant to be worn by a lady of heaven or at least a queen, but instead, they were cast aside to a princess without purpose.
Manishtushu and Rimush were waiting in the cool entry hall, Manishtushu seated on the edge of the pool, his hand trailing in the water. He rose when I appeared and looked at me with eyes that were wider than the moon. "You look astonishing, dear sister."
"You both look very regal as well," I observed, looking at their matching golden tunics hidden under a drapery of violet linen. Their beards had now been oiled, no longer looking like the wool of an unshaven sheep, and for the first time, my brothers looked like real men.
"Have you seen the swords father gifted us for our first victory," Rimush replied, holding out a blade with a handle made of lapis lazuli, and a distinctive pattern of banding that seemed almost reminiscent of flowing water. Tracing the intricate pattern, a voice inside suddenly wished father had brought such a present home for me. The linen was a peace offering from the deviated city, worn by the family of the victor to show their might. But this sword, this almost liquid sword, was a testament of one's accomplishments in battle. Not the victor's accomplishments, but the soldier's.
"Father says they are indestructible because they were forged from heaven's water by Enki," Rimush added.
Manishtushu sighed, "that is only what the legend says. But the blades were made of copper, just like any other. The technique is a sort of bending of two metals-"
"Who cares about that," Rimush bulled over him, "a sword made by a god sounds so much more interesting."
"Children, behave yourselves." Mother asserted herself between her sons in an instance, "your father is throwing this feast in your honor. For one evening, can you at least try to behave like princes instead of wild animals?"
Both boys quietly uttered an apology to the queen, who looked so magnificent the stars seemed to shine brighter in the reflection of her golden headdress. Although her clothes were almost identical to mine, her fabric was more vibrant, her fringe danced bouncier and her bracelets tinkled sweetly. She was the queen of queens and carried herself with the grace and regality to match her title.
Inside the manse, the air was heavy with the scent of spices and cinnamon. Mother escorted us across the corridor, where a mosaic of colored floor depicted the Triad of Heaven. Oil burned in copper lanterns all along the mosaic walls. Beneath an arch of twining stone leaves, father awaited our arrival. As soon as we entered the room, a slave sang our coming. "All rise for King Sargon, and Queen Tashlultum of Akkad."
The room bowed collectively as their king and queen walked past. Priests paying their respect to the man who helped them stay in power, merchants proving their loyalty to the one who keeps the economy flowing, and soldiers saluting their undefeated leader. This shining beacon of a king led our family to the table that was set up with the most delicious food our great kingdom offered. Delicacies capable of making one's mouth water: a whole roasted boar, marinated spiced chicken, grilled trout with lemon, and a honey glazed ham, mounds of fragrant wild rice, spices baked on hot stones, countless fruits that went with baskets of bread rolls shaped as seashells, and many varieties of wine.
As soon as the festivities began, and the wine flowed freely, my brothers turned into the wild animals mother warned them not to be. Three seats away, she was staring them down disapprovingly, although they did not notice. I did. As a woman, and especially a princess, you had to learn to notice these things, read the silent truths that people hid behind their eyes. You had to know that when a noble's son stares at you; you don't give him the satisfaction of catching your gaze. Or when a merchant compliments your jewelry, you don't give him the opportunity to sell you his supposedly superior supply.
But what was one to do when two elderly men entered the room, wrapped in priestly robes? A silent whisper rippled throughout the room, making it known to all attending that these were the royal diviners. Men of great wisdom, and even greater power, or so I had read. The royal diviners slowly shuffled closer. "Sargon, king of Akkad, overseer of Inanna, king of Kish, anointed of Anu, rightful king of the land, and governor of Enlil. We ask your permission to anoint a new high priestess of the moon god Nanna."
Father listens to their announcement with utter nonchalance. He wasn't slumped in his seat; the gods knew he was far too prideful to slump. But his body was clearly relaxed, although his eyes were focused, almost sparkling as if something exciting was about to happen. "Neither Nanna nor the great city of Ur must be without a high priestess. Which candidates are worthy enough to serve the son of Enlil?" He announced.
The royal diviners exchanged a worried glance before they answered. "We only have one worthy candidate, my king. The priestess Kituzda of Ur."
The shift in father's eyes was as evident as the turning of the tide. "Are you telling me that my kingdom, the kingdom that reaches from the lower sea in the east all the way to the upper sea in the west, holds only one woman worthy of Nanna?" he bellowed. "You ask my permission to anoint a new high priestess, only to insult both your king and the son of Enlil by presenting him with only one worthy choice!"
"You are worthy," the voice inside thundered. It brought goosebumps on my skin as invisible hands pressed me into the seat. I should remain silent. I am a princess of Akkad, meant to rule beside a king, not serve a god. Which was what I wanted, right? Becoming the queen, regal like my mother is. Standing in the shadow of a king. Being the property of a man.
"You are nobody's property." Glancing at the royal diviners who threw themselves at the ground, the thought cemented itself in my mind. "We beg your forgiveness, oh great Sargon, king of all the lands under heaven."
"Forgiveness? You dare beg for my forgiveness-"
"I'll serve Nanna." Suddenly the room fell silent, and all were looking at me. The words only took one breath to say, yet their weight seemed to linger in the air for a lifetime.
Father said nothing, looking over the hall with hooded eyes before landing on me. There was a tightness in him I had never seen before. His posture remained courteous, but the ice-cold look in his eyes send shivers down my spine. Was this what his enemies saw before they were sent to the underworld?
"Well, what are you waiting for?" He sneered towards the royal diviners, "start the ceremony!"
A couple of slaves brought out a goat, adorned with bells that rang cheerfully with each movement. The royal diviners started to pray, swinging smoking branches around until a ring encased the goat. The smoke curtain concealed the ceremony, but all in the room knew it was done once the bells stopped ringing. Anticipation tingled throughout the room as the smoke rose towards the heavens. "Nanna has chosen," the left diviner spoke solemnly.
"Sargon, king of kings. Nanna has chosen your daughter to serve him as his high priestess." the right diviner concluded.
Dread crept over me like an icy chill, numbing my brain, while my stomach came alive with butterflies, mixing within my heart as one single thought overruled it all. Nanna found me worthy.
I will serve a god.
There is no avoiding it now.
Father remained silent, rising up from his chair as everyone in the room held their breath. The king was displeased. Only a fool could miss that. With a flip of the panther's skin on his shoulder, he turned his attention to me. "I would like to have a word with you, now."
YOU ARE READING
Enheduanna: The First Author - Wattys Winner 2021
Historical FictionWATTYS 2021 Historical Fiction winner | Writers Of The Past Series. 4000 years ago, in an empire where women were little more than flowers on the wall, one princess cemented her story in history and changed the art of writing for centuries to come...