The Whore of Babylon

Chapter 3 | part 1

At first light, she made her bid for freedom.

She could not meekly submit to her fate as her sister had. If she was to fail, she must do so knowing that she had explored every possible means of saving herself.

The purplish predawn light was barely enough to see by, but she would not go by night and make the same mistake twice. Samsu’s guards were at the main door, so she made her way to a little-visited room at the back of the house used for storage. Tying a thick-woven hair rope to a bronze ring set into the wall for hanging tapestries, she tossed the other end out of the window where it hit the ground with a dull thud.

She froze with baited breath, waiting for the soldiers to come running.

Nothing.

Over her back, she slung an old leather bag containing a couple of wineskins and a handful of fruits. Easing backwards out of the window, she wrapped her feet in the rope and clambered down, lowering herself hand over hand until her sandals touched the earth.

A blow to the face sent her staggering backwards before she had even had time to disentangle her feet. The heavy rope caught at her ankles and brought her crashing to the ground.

Dust filled her nostrils; unshed tears of pain, surprise and disappointment shimmered in her eyes. Tasting blood, she brought a hand to her face, checking that she still had all her teeth. It took a moment to realise that she had bitten her tongue as she fell.

A strong hand seized her arm and hauled her up. A dagger appeared at her wrist. She clenched her fist instinctively.

‘Next time you try to run, we’ll see how well you escape with just one hand,’ hissed Samsu’s thug. ‘The prince only needs one of your hands to pleasure him.’ He ran the bronze blade lightly over the delicate skin of her wrist – a thin red line blossomed in its place; the blood trickled down over her fingers. It stung a little, but she stared him in the eyes and did not flinch.

If he was disappointed, he did not show it.

He strode back to the front of the house still gripping her arm, dragging her along beside him, and threw her back inside.

‘Stay!’ he commanded, as if to a dog.

The door slammed behind him. Eliana pulled her knees to her chest and let the despair overwhelm her.

Dawn broke, the household awoke, and still she sat there.

She jumped as a gentle hand found her shoulder.

Her father looked down at her, concern plain on his face. Wordlessly, he helped her to her feet and steered her towards his office.

She took a seat on the bench opposite his desk, dropping her head into her hands. Her hair formed a comforting curtain around her, shutting out the world.

Adab took a seat behind his desk. ‘What happened?’ he asked, softly.

The story came tumbling out in a waterfall of words.

Her father’s face darkened, ‘so now he is to steal away both my daughters.’

Eliana sniffed, ‘can’t you... is there any way... can you do anything at all?’

He sighed and rubbed at his forehead, ‘you know I cannot. No more than I could do anything to protect Kisha.’

The words barely registered in her mind – as he said, she had known it anyway. Now she had just one option left.

A tear rolled down her face. Her voice broke as she said, ‘then... will you kill me?’

Her hands trembled as she asked – she had no real desire to die. Being alive was exhilarating, sensual, full of people to meet, things to learn, lives to touch. Death was so... final. She took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves.

‘I would gladly end your life to spare you the ordeal that lies ahead. Better to let Enlil claim you for the underworld where you can be with your mother than send you to be Samsu’s plaything. But if I defy Samsu, his revenge will be swift and bloody. Are you willing to risk Kisha's life, and mine?’

She shook her head miserably. Her father and her sister were all she had in the world, she would not see them suffer for anything.

Her father stood and embraced her. ‘I must be off to work, Eliana. I shall pray for you. And I shall pray that we meet again.’ He kissed her atop her black curls, still dusty and tangled from the night’s adventures, and left the room. She heard a half-smothered cry as he closed the door. The anguish of a man who lived to help others, but could not protect his own daughters.

She sat a long while after he was gone, contemplating her options. If her father killed her, Samsu would wreak his revenge on her family. If she killed herself...

Adab had carried a dagger, once. It hadn’t been seen for many moons – Sumerians were no longer permitted to carry blades under the new regime – but if he still had it, Eliana knew it would be in this room.

Rummaging through his storage chest, she found it. Buried at the bottom, rusted by lack of care, but still sharp enough for her purpose.

Cradling it like a newborn, she carried it back to her room.

She sat on the bed, breathing deeply.

‘It is the only way,’ she told herself. ‘To deny him satisfaction, to save my honour. To spare myself. It is the only way. If I do the deed myself, he cannot punish my family.’

She took up the blade. It was an old one, the carved stone handle worn smooth by countless generations of her forefathers’ hands. The iron was spotted with rust, but it was usable.

Placing the point below her ribs, aiming squarely up at her heart, she clasped the hilt in both hands and took a deep breath. Her last breath.

Her senses sharpened. The noise of the city carried through her window on spice-scented air. She turned to look out at the golden sun climbing the lapis blue sky. A pleasant breeze stirred her hair.

She shook her head, trying to shake out any doubts, turned back and gripped the hilt harder. She pressed the point into the soft flesh under her breasts and felt a prickle. A small bead of blood welled up to stain the front of her tunic.

Looking at the blood – the same as the blood of her father, of her sister – her hands trembled again. Could she be sure that Samsu would leave them in peace? How would her shade ever find rest if they suffered for her selfishness?

She dropped the blade to the floor. Suddenly overcome with exhaustion, she lay back on the bed. She had been awake, alert and nervous for nearly two full days and nights – her body finally defeated her mind, and she slept.