The Whore of Babylon

Chapter 17 | part 2

Over the next couple of months, Samsu started to use Eliana for her mind almost as frequently as her body – she was finally beginning to feel that she might have been brought to the palace for a higher purpose, and gave thanks to Enlil every day.

Sometimes her suggestions were met with scorn and a slap, but more often with a nod and a suggestion of veiled admiration.

It was necessary to tread a very careful line when offering her advice to Samsu; she made a game of it – making him feel like her ideas were his own. She must never appear too intelligent to him – he was paranoid at the best of times, and she was sure that seeming clever would only fire his overactive imagination.

Gradually, he was coming to rely on her advice. Growing up in Nippur, she had always taken an active interest in the city's problems and the solving of them – her father had taught her that the meaning of life was a life of meaning, and she had always intended to give her life meaning by improving things for others as he did. Now, at last, she had that opportunity. She often thought about her father as she set her mind to the conundrums she was given – wondering what he would do in each situation, and whether he recognised her influence in Samsu's new policies.

Though he wanted her ideas, Samsu was ever-keen to make sure she remembered her place in his life. He began to take her to his daily audiences to give her a broader view of the issues the city faced, allowing her to hear from the citizens first-hand; but he had her there his own way. She sat on a cold stone step at his feet, commanded to silence, the golden chain still attached to her collar as a sure indicator of her status as his pet. He held the other end in one hand, making a show of his ownership as he sat on his great throne of exquisitely polished Lebanese cedar, listening to pleas and dispensing judgement.

For Eliana, the worst part of it was that he would not allow her more decent clothes. She was still a whore, he said, and she would be attired as one. She blushed when her father attended audiences and studiously avoided looking at her in her creased and semi-transparent gowns.

But it was worth the humiliation, for what she learned was invaluable. Hearing the problems of the Nippurites from their own mouths was what she had always enjoyed about working with her father. Important details about which street was being plagued by pickpockets, or which field the crops were failing in, or precisely where the canal needed repair, were often overlooked by Samsu in his impatience to have the audience finished with.

As her political influence grew and Samsu came to trust her a little, the terms of her confinement were considerably eased. They had an unspoken agreement: she would keep her privileges and extra freedoms so long as she did not try to escape or conspire against him. It was an uneasy truce, but one she was happy to maintain for the moment.

She still could not quite believe her fortune – at Ashan's suggestion, Samsu had agreed to allow her off her chain for a walk in his own gardens every day. Granted, it was only for half an hour, and her every step was followed by a guard, but it was a tentative move towards freedom.

The first time that she was allowed out was a moment that she would never forget. As the sun warmed her face, a cool breeze lifted the curls from her neck and the tender grass tickled the soles of her bare feet, her heart swelled with pure joy. The simplicity of nature and the sheer pleasure it could bring was something she never ceased to be thankful for. She had always felt most at peace in the garden, and to be able to move about freely outside and turn her face up to the wide open sky was a luxury she was certain she would never again take for granted in her lifetime.

When Ashan accompanied her on her walks, she was able to set off at a run, burning off the pent-up energies and frustrations that she had been forced to store up for so many weeks. The other guards would not tolerate it, but Ashan always trusted her to return.

Her walks with him were special – even under the cover of the trees she did not dare to take his hand or speak of anything dangerous, but to be together with some degree of privacy, to laugh and joke and flirt and pretend to be carefree lovers strolling the city gardens like any other couple... it was paradise.

Samsu's garden was aflame with red flowers of every hue – each petal seeming to have been kissed by Utu, dipped in the rays of the rising sun and set alight. There was no other way that nature could achieve such a richness of colour, Eliana was sure. They walked amongst the blossoms together, inhaling their intoxicating perfume, and it was like nothing else in the world existed.

Ashan laughed at Eliana as they crossed the terrace and she ran to the grass, dropping to roll in it like a gleeful horse, heedless of the green stains rubbing onto her dress.

It became harder and harder to return to her chain after tasting freedom, but she knew better than to complain. Ashan had convinced her to accept that escape now would avail her nothing: even if she escaped the palace, even if she escaped the city, where would she go? The surrounding area for hundreds of miles around was Babylonia – she could not hope to evade him for long, even if she survived the desert trek between cities. The roads were hazardous, populated by bandits and slave raiders – she would simply be trading a golden chain for an iron one.

Even on her chain, she had a small pleasure in which to indulge now – in passing, she had mentioned her love of the lyre, and Samsu had immediately commanded her to play something for him. Resu had been sent for Kisha's instrument – her sister had always preferred weaving to music anyway – and Eliana had playing him a haunting lullaby from her childhood, the very one that Kisha sang her to sleep with when she suffered nightmares.

Her eyes filled with tears as she sang, bringing a depth of feeling to the sweet notes that she could never have feigned.

Samsu had shown no emotion, but nodded brusquely and told her to keep the lyre with her – he would hear her play sometimes at the end of a difficult day.

'I'm so much happier,' she told Ashan as they walked in the gardens. 'Perhaps Enlil had a purpose in sending me here after all. I am even beginning to hope that I might be free from the chain soon.'

'Perhaps,' Ashan gave nothing away, but offered an affectionate smile. 'It is good to see you laugh again.'

'My sole regret now is that I can't be there for Kisha during her pregnancy – she must be almost full term now?'

'Around eight moons, I believe. She misses you terribly.'

'And I miss her,' Eliana's eyes were pricked by unexpected tears in the midst of her happiness. 'Do you think... would it be possible that she might be allowed to visit me?'

Ashan frowned. 'I could bring it up with Samsu. He might allow it as a reward for your good behaviour recently. I suppose I could put it to him that if the mother is happy, the child will be happy. If she continues to pine for you, the child could be sickly.'

'Oh, say whatever you have to!' she pleaded, 'to see Kisha again before she gives birth would be...'

She tailed off, she could not think of the words to express how much she longed for her sister's embrace.

'I'll see what I can do,' Ashan smiled, plucking a flower and tucking it into her hair.

She blushed as red as the petals and walked on.