The Whore of Babylon

Chapter 8 | part 2

Eliana confided nothing of Ashan's visit to Kisha or Mari. Her sister would be horrified, she knew, and would likely try to keep her away from him altogether. Even the vaguest suggestion of affection between the two would be enough to put everyone in the household at risk, and Kisha would do anything to protect her child. Once, she could have gone to her sister with anything, but Kisha had new priorities now.

She could not confess anything to Mari, either. Though the maid would happily gossip about Ashan, Mari would counsel caution, tell her to put her feelings aside – as if it were that easy! And quite aside from that, Eliana suspected that Mari had her own passion for Ashan.

No, she kept the memories sacred, locking them away in the recesses of her mind and bringing them out to pore over in her private moments – hugging the precious hope and comfort to herself.

After four weeks of torturing herself with desire and constantly seeking even as much as a glimpse of him, Eliana decided that he would avoid her no longer. She would not sit around and simper like a merchant's daughter – she had been raised an Ensi's daughter, and taught to be forthright and direct.

The image of the anger on his face haunted her – she must know if she had somehow destroyed the tender shoot of his affection instead of nurturing it. She must clear the air.

But first, she must know where to find him.

'Mari!' Eliana beckoned her over. 'Do you know what is actually going on in the palace at the moment?'

'Business is much the same as usual,' Mari wiped her hands on her apron as she finished mixing up a tincture for colic. 'Only Ashan holds the audiences and makes the decisions in Samsu's place.'

'But... what does he actually do?' Eliana persisted. 'I have lived here for almost three moons now, and I still don't know what happens inside the palace.'

'Oh – I'd have thought your father would have enlightened you on all that!'

'No, no,' lied Eliana. 'He kept most of the politics away from his daughters.' In actual fact, Adab had often discussed affairs of state with Eliana. Kisha had shown little interest, but his youngest daughter was bright and enquiring, and had a way of looking at the world with fresh eyes, solving problems in ways he never could have imagined.

'As I understand it, Ashan is an early riser. He gets up when Utu does, and sees to himself. Then two hours after dawn, the politics begin. There are council meetings, city inspections, consultations with the Ensi, petitioners, audiences... all the usual things that keep a huge place like this running, I suppose.'

Eliana nodded, looking eager and interested. Mari had told her all she needed to know.

The next morning, she rose in the pre-dawn haze, threw on her clothes and crept from the apartments, praying that Sarri would not wake in her absence.

Making her way down to the men's bathhouse, she found a discreet hiding place in an alcove near the entrance. She secreted herself inside and waited, her heart pounding so loudly that she was sure it would give her away.

An eternity later, as Utu's first rays lightened the sky with a rosy tint, she heard the sound of bootheels on tiles. She froze, pressing herself back into the niche, waiting.

The man flashed past so quickly that she could not be sure it was him. Leaning out, she recognised his hair and build from behind and ran silently after him.

She caught his wrist, 'Ashan!'

With snake-like reflexes, he twisted on the spot, grabbing the hand from his arm and forcing it into a painful lock behind her. At the same time, a blade appeared at her throat.