The Whore of Babylon

Chapter 20 | part 2

As they rode back to the palace, Eliana was beginning to feel quite self-conscious. Though she had been a focus of attention for hundreds of people over the course of the day, she only felt uneasy now, under Ashan's gaze. Almost every time she glanced at him, he was staring at her. As soon as she caught him, he would look away. She tried to read his face in the split second before he wiped it clean of emotion - there was a strange sort of hunger in his eyes that made her squirm.

He tried to stop himself from looking at her, tried to occupy his mind elsewhere, but his gaze kept sliding back to her, riding her fine pale horse as well as any man, shimmering in the sun like a gilded statue. Utu's rays reflected from the gold of her gown, her circlet and her hair ornaments, creating a bright halo; it was as if the light of a goddess emanated from within her.

His stomach tightened as he watched her, remembering the unearthly joy of being in her bed, her warm thighs wrapped around his back, pulling him deeper. His mouth pressed to hers, stifling her breathy gasps of pleasure and delight. The softness of her breasts under his palms. The way she writhed with arousal when he had kissed the tender skin of her neck. He had an almost unbearable desire to be with her again; it was all he could do to keep his hands from her, let alone his eyes.

He was becoming a danger to himself, he knew. He could not let his desire for one woman be the death of him; for it surely would be, if Samsu noticed.

It had been agony, standing there impassively, watching her stand at the altar and be bound to a man she hated, the man he had grown up with as a brother. Though she had belonged to Samsu in word before, she was truly his property now, in deed and in the sight of Marduk. The great god had witnessed the bond and blessed the marriage. To attempt anything with her now would be to risk his wrath... and Samsu's.

There were few things Samsu took so seriously as a perceived betrayal. Once, when they were children, Ashan had repeated a secret of Samsu's to his mother; always the better fighter, the older boy had beaten him bloody for it in their next combat training session.

Re-entering the palace through the magnificent north gate, Ashan couldn't help but notice the slight droop in Eliana's shoulders.

It was like an iron cloak being hung about her shoulders as they came through the arched gate, a great weight of sadness pulling her down. She had felt alive again, out in the city; she couldn't help but wonder how long it might be until she would be permitted another visit.

The Brute lifted her from her horse, setting her on her feet a little harder than necessary. Samsu beckoned - she went to him, and he took her arm and led her to the great hall for the marriage feast.

Eliana felt Kisha's absence keenly as she sat on a lower chair to the left of Samsu's great throne, a full head below him. An empty chair, smaller, but still a polished and carved throne, was placed to his left. Susa had snubbed the ceremony and the celebratory feast. She would have no part of it, she said. It shamed her husband's noble line for him to marry a whore.

With Asag on her other side, Eliana had nobody to talk to. Nerves and loneliness twisted her stomach - she could not relax, sat between these two men who had brought her nothing but misery. The banquet was less grand than the one for the emissaries, but there was still good food in vast quantities, an assortment of high-ranking guests draped in bright silks and glittering jewels, and a wild array of eclectic entertainments. She picked politely at the dishes that were set in front of her, but for once she had no real appetite; instead, she focused on the performers or watched the people as they drank and laughed, argued and flattered, danced and brawled.

Nobody paid her the slightest bit of attention, despite the fact that the feast was ostensibly in honour of her marriage. Still, she was on the dais - a vast step-up from where she sat at the last celebration. Kisha had never been accorded these honours. She supposed that Kisha had never earned Samsu's respect in quite the same way. Her ribs still ached when she breathed too deeply, or sneezed, or coughed, or laughed. The respect was hard-won.