Enheduanna: The First Author - Wattys Winner 2021

28. When The Mind Fails

Lord Meannesi, Lord Adalu and Lugal-ane.

The last surprised me the least. That man carried the title of Lugal as if it still had the same stature of the olden days. Once his title would have made him king of Ur, master of the city. Even the high priestess would have to show respect to him, but those days were long gone.

Rimush was now king. The fact that my father granted most of the former kings of the city states to hold on to their titles as lugal, even if it meant nothing, should be considered a blessing.

But not to a man like Lugal-ane. He would never be satisfied with an empty title.

I ran over the list of names once again. There must be something I can do to stop them? Some way I could prove that they were plotting against the temple, against the ones chosen by Nanna. But how?

Mistreating your slaves was not punishable. It was frowned upon by many, but if the person was your property, you could essentially do with them as you pleased. Even if it was sickening to starve them, only to kick them out on the streets thereafter.

"I cannot find anything," Kituzda sighed as she entered the room, her hair a dishevelled mess, and her eyes underlined with dark circles from the lack of sleep. There was no doubt in my mind I looked as bad as she did, probably even worse. The stress took away my appetite, and by now, my hands were starting to ache each time I held the reed for too long.

"So providing offerings on the New Moon ceremony is not mandatory?"

Kituzda shook her head. "From what I could find within the tablets is that over the years it has grown into a tradition of sorts for the elite of the city to bring offers with each new moon, but it not punishable if you don't."

This was a nightmare. A waking nightmare of which I could not seem to wake up. No matter which way I turned, to all roads led to a dead end.

"I can no longer think. My mind is exhausted."

Was I even the master of my thoughts or ideas anymore? Or just the result of a sort of thinking I was only loosely aware of? There was always a third possibility, of course, which was both.

Laying flat on my back, the sky swirling away above me; I tried to recall the times my visions rang true. Because the gods knew I could really use a vision right now. It was always after a hymn, usually one of my better hymns. But what made them better?

They were all so different. One sang loudly with joy, the other writing about the tears I never cried or the anger I never expressed. I wrote them within my own words, placing myself within the texts because that was what I felt at that moment.
Emotions, they all were seeping with emotion. Raw and spoken straight from the heart, not caring about any rules of omnipotence or verbs, because they were not about the gods. They placed a mortal person within the contents; me.

I needed to be sure that I could still express my soul, that I cared so much about this city and its people that it hurt to see them suffer. I needed to be sure that I felt the urgency of my duty to use my talents to help these people, because they needed me. That was the purist form of love.

Inanna told me time would be my servant as long as I wrote. So I just got to keep writing and be as bold as I dared. Let the emotions out, let them go, then let the visions in.

Taking a blank clay tablet, I stared at its surface, reed in hand. Nothing.

"What is wrong with me? Why can I not think when it is needed of me? Why can I not write when it could save lives?"

Shula petted my hair, "There, there. You'll think of something. Your idea at the last New Moon ceremony was also a stroke of genius, so I'm sure it will come again."

"All that pressure is not helping my case."

"You know, in Nuzi there was a temple for Nisaba. Writers from all over the kingdom would come there to pray to the goddess for inspiration. Nisaba always listens to a good saba." Shula said.

"Thank you Shula, but going all the way to Nuzi to pray is not really a possibility right now?"

"No, that's not what I meant." The plump priestess scooted closer to me as if she was going to tell me a secret. "She will listen to a saba no matter where they are being said. Because saba means the speech of women."

That got my attention. A goddess listening to the speech of women. Maybe a prayer to her was not such a bad idea.

Glancing up at the sky, I cleared my throat. "Nisaba, your shining house of stars bright with lapis stones has opened itself to all lands. A whole mix of people are within your shrine every month, lifting their heads to you."

I closed my eyes and imagined I was walking among those people, lifting my head to the goddess.

"The speech of women is performed upon your platform, O great Nisaba, Lady of saba. You have brought powers down from the heavens, enlarged your shrine and set it up for praising faithful women exceeding in wisdom. Open your mouth to recite over the hardened lined tablets. And give strong council to all lands, Nisaba. She who measures the heavens by cubits, strikes the coiled measuring rod on the earth. Praised be Nisaba!"

Shula clapped her hands in delight. "That was beautiful." I stared at the clouds for a moment longer as an idea sprouted in my mind.

"We have been looking at it all wrong. We shouldn't act like the lords and find ways to punish them. We must utilize the weapon we know best; our speech."