The Whore of Babylon

Chapter 24 | part 2

Her head was spinning, but she gripped the side of the chariot determinedly and waved to the people lining the streets of Nippur.

She had lost a great deal of blood during the birth, and was still paler than usual. She tired easily and had dizzy spells. Mari assured her it would ease after a time. Taking part in the procession through the city was not optional though, so she pasted a smile to her face and gritted her teeth at every jolt and rut in the street.

They rode in Samsu's great war chariot, drawn by a matched team of four roan horses, their red coats flaming in the sun. He held the reins in one hand, and cradled Eshu in the other, his thin lips curled into a smile, black eyes flashing with pleasure at the cheers of the populace.

Eshu, born in silence, was by far the quieter of the twins. Nisala had been left behind with Mari, Sarri and Kisuri. Her twins were easily as small as Kisuri had been at birth, and Eliana couldn't help but worry that they would be as frail. Thus far, neither of them seemed to have Kisuri's breathing problems – they appeared to be as strong and healthy as Sarri. Still, every sneeze set sparks of anxiety smouldering in her mind.

Mari had just smiled indulgently when she expressed her fears. 'Every new mother feels this way about her baby,' she said.

Eliana's tiered gown was a perfect match for Samsu's tunic – bright crimson edged with gold. Her curls tumbled freely down her back, a wreath of red roses and yellow sunflowers woven into her hair as a sign of her fertility – a woman so blessed by Ninlil that she had brought forth two babies at once. Eshu, sleeping quietly in the crook of Samsu's arm, was swaddled in a blanket of red shot with gold to match his parents.

Heralds marched before them, clearing their path; armed guards surrounded them, and they were followed by a vast retinue of officials, priests and scholars – a calculated display of Samsu's wealth and influence.

He had been worried about the possibility of trouble in the city; despite his marriage to Eliana, a favoured daughter of Nippur, the people still loathed him as an oppressive conqueror, and he knew it. In a moment of inspiration, Eliana had suggested dispensing free wine and bread prior to the procession. With their bellies full and their cups overflowing, the crowds were too merry to protest.

They processed to Ekur, the house of the mountain where Eliana and Samsu had been married. As King of the Pantheon, Enlil had had the right to confer the overall kingship of Sumeria on whomsoever he chose – for generations, kings had come to Nippur to carve their names into the bricks of Enlil's temple.

Samsu had been no exception – he had carved his name on the ziggurat on the very day that he claimed Nippur. Today, he would carve Eshu's name beneath his own, recognising the boy and sealing his place in the line of succession.

Ashan swore that he was happy to be displaced, and even happier that it should be his own son to do it, but Eliana could not help but feel a little tug of guilt that it moved him a step further from the throne. She did not say it aloud, but she was certain that Ashan would be a far better ruler than Samsu – he had a greater understanding of people, and a greater capacity for empathy and friendship. He would not have won the city as effectively as Samsu had, but he would certainly govern it better.

He was somewhere around, mingled in amongst the other armed guards, keeping a sharp eye out for trouble in the crowds. It was a fine line to tread: giving the people enough wine to make them merry, but not so much that they grew disorderly.

They drew up outside the temple gates, where Samsu handed the reins to a slave and stepped from the chariot; Eliana climbed down gingerly after him, not wanting to risk a dizzy spell. Not now, with so many eyes upon her. She followed Samsu through the arch and into the forecourt. To her great horror, the mudbrick table was laden with grain and vegetables as before, but alongside it were chained dozens of animals, and six half-starved and desperate-looking men.