The Whore of Babylon

Chapter 1

The tension in the house was palpable.

As Ensi of Nippur, Adab was held in the highest esteem by the Sumerians. He had charge of the day-to-day government and maintenance of the city, administration of taxes, and dispensation of justice. The people of the Nippur held him in the greatest respect as a fair and capable man.

Nobody blamed Adab for submitting where others had resisted. When the invaders had flooded through the city gates, Adab immediately went to surrender to Samsu – it cost him his pride, but he was able to assure the safety of his daughters, and was permitted to retain his position. The Sumerians couldn’t help but admire his quick thinking: by securing his place, he was able to continue to work for the good of the people and the smooth running of the city, rather than abandoning them to a stranger with foreign ways.

The flower of Sumerian society had turned out for the wedding – priests, scholars, city officials and their families. Every available space was filled with gaily dressed people. Though they were dressed for a festival, they wore the faces of funeral-goers. The atmosphere was solemn, with none of the high spirits usually seen at such a ceremony. Kisha, with her kindness, charity and graciousness, was a great favourite in the community, and not one of the Sumerians present would willingly have seen her married to a barbarian. These people had come to show their regard for the family, not for celebration and levity.

Across the room, the Babylonians might have been dressed for a trip to the market.

There were less than half as many of them as there were Sumerians. They stood apart in a group, garbed in plain military tunics, daggers hanging from their belts. Their blatant disrespect spoke volumes: this marriage was as much a travesty to them as it was to the city. The Sumerians eyed the weapons uneasily – it was unheard of for guests to attend a wedding armed for battle.

The Babylonians paid them little heed, looking contemptuously at the Sumerians as less than dung beneath their sandals. Not one of them had brought a wife or child for the festivities. They stood apart in their own group, speaking the common tongue, Akkadian, with their guttural accents. A servant stood against a nearby wall, clutching a jug of sweet date-wine and trying to be invisible. He did not dare look directly at the warriors, but stood with his head bent, watching up through his lashes for any sign that the men needed their drinking bowls refilled.

Between them, the Babylonians had already consumed more wine in their short time at the house than all the Sumerian guests could be expected to drink from their first arrival until the end of the wedding feast. With every swallow they were becoming more raucous, and more vocal in their dismissal of the natives of Nippur.

‘This cesspit!’ one of them slapped his thigh, ‘I’d jump in the canal before I brought my sons here – I’ll not have them go soft and weak like these savages!’

His companions roared with laughter, wine spilling from their bowls as they gesticulated and pushed each other.

Eliana walked by quickly, sandals slapping against the bare tiles, giving a reassuring nod to the servant boy who was still trying to disappear backwards through the wall. She bit her tongue hard, praying to the mother-goddess for the wisdom and the strength to swallow back the words that threatened to leap from her mouth. It could only go badly for her if she spoke angrily to the Babylonians.

She felt their eyes on her as she passed.

Crossing the garden, she took a seat next to Kisha on the bench by the pool. She took her hand and squeezed it hard. Kisha barely seemed to notice, gazing into the pond with vacant eyes.

Eliana did not need to ask what she was thinking to know that Kisha envied the fish – free to spend the day frolicking and leaping, no need to be concerned about invaders, duty or protecting family. No memory of the past or fear of the future.