The Whore of Babylon

Chapter 13 | part 3

The first, the oldest, stepped forward. 'Your Royal Highness, I have known you since you were a boy, have watched you grow and mature into the man you are today; a conqueror in your own right and the greatest general in the empire after your father himself. In honour of your military might, I offer you this gift.' He gestured, and a slave approached the prince, presenting him with a magnificent blade of polished iron mounted in a wooden handle with the hilt carved in the likeness of a roaring lion.

Samsu nodded and gave his thanks.

The ritual was repeated with each of the other six men; each stepping forward in order of his age and making some lengthy and gratuitously flattering speech in praise of his prince before presenting a gift.

Twice, Eliana glanced at Samsu during the speeches. She caught the familiar gleam of irritation in his eyes, set in an expression of overwhelming boredom.

She struggled to repress a giggle as she turned her attention back to the emissaries.

The gifts were all exquisite, and not all for Samsu himself. He was presented with five slaves for the running of his palace, fifty jars of Babylonian wine, an obsidian statue of Marduk, a set of perfectly balanced spears and a war chariot; one of the men gave as his offering three bolts of silk for Susa, and one for Kisha as a token gift. Another gave a magnificent gold necklace and bracelet set for Susa, with a matching bracelet for Ani.

Eliana received nothing, reinforcing her status as the whore, not officially one of Samsu's women.

She looked around the hall with mounting impatience as the speeches were made and the gifts proffered, taking in the faces of the guests, amusing herself with how many she could identify, and how many were new appointments since Samsu's regime had begun. Many of those present had attended her sister's wedding.

Her heart leapt as her gaze lighted on her father.

He looked just the same as he always had. A little greyer, a little more drawn, a little thinner, but still her father. His eyes were glazed and unfocused as he stared in the general direction of the ceremony.

She nudged her sister and nodded towards their father. Kisha did not react, but kept her attention riveted on the dull charade taking place before her. Determined to draw no attention to herself or give Samsu cause to reprimand her, she would be the perfect little wife, even if she must be the lesser wife.

Finally, the hall erupted into applause as the emissaries bowed and took their places of honour at the high table. The great gong sounded again, and a stream of servants and slaves filed into the hall with steaming platters piled high with food.

The girls were half-starved after eating only lightly earlier in the day, but Kisha put her hand on Eliana's arm – a gentle warning to restrain herself. Ladies did not stuff themselves in public, she had taught her growing up. Not that Eliana had ever listened – she had always been an active child, and constantly hungry after a day of running around and getting into trouble.

Things were no different now, and it took the greatest willpower not to take as much as she wanted. She only held herself back for fear of drawing some negative attention to herself and not being allowed to attend an occasion like this again. Already it was unheard of for a whore to be out in public and seated with a wife, even if they were sisters.

As it happened, she needn't have worried about being hungry. Course after course after course was processed into the hall – subtly flavoured barley and onion soups; fish spiced a dozen different ways; side dishes of chickpeas and lentils tossed with garlic; tender roasted gazelle seasoned with mustard; great loaves of flat bread still warm from the oven; baked and crispy wildfowl... every delicacy that Eliana could have imagined or wished for was placed before her.

She ate a small portion of each, but was soon so full that she wished she was wearing a gown that did not cling quite so insistently to every curve of her body.

Wine flowed freely with the food – servants stood to attention near each table, ready to refill empty drinking bowls with the sweet date wine favoured by the Nippurites and adopted by Samsu.

Kisha was quiet, but Eliana contented herself with people-watching and examining the beauty around her, from the henna patterns on her hands, to the porcelain drinking bowl brightly painted with fruits and vines, to the lions prowling the walls in their ceramic cages as the torches brought the mosaics to life. She was warm and full and utterly content as the wine worked its magic, filling her head with a pleasant woolly feeling.

When the last of the food was cleared away, Samsu stood. The whole room stood with him. Some of the guests, particularly the priests, swayed a little on their feet. Eliana glanced at her father, he stood firm as a temple.

Toasts were raised to Samsu, to Nippur, to Hammurabi, to Babylon, to Susa, and finally to the child in Kisha's belly. She blushed and smiled, even though the good wishes were for the child she carried, not for herself.

When everyone had taken their seats once more, Samsu raised his hand again, and the entertainments began.

People laughed, drank, talked amongst themselves and watched the marvels unfold before them. The first act was a hypnotic snake dancer. Barely clad, she twisted and writhed to high piped music with her drugged snake draped around her neck as though they were one being and she had absorbed its movements.

Eliana watched, fascinated, wondering what the girl's life must be – travelling freely and performing at royal courts and great occasions.

A troupe of singing eunuchs came next, their sweet voices filling every corner of the hall. Eliana glanced up at the high table during their song.

Samsu was deep in animated conversation with Ashan. She saw him gesture at his stepson's injured cheek; her heart sank and she reproached herself for her own impetuous foolishness in leaving a mark on Ashan, and in such a visible place.

Ashan gesticulated, waving his hands as if it were no matter, trying to deflect the question. She felt an unexpected surge of gratitude towards him, before swiftly pushing it back down, burying it under resentment.

Not to be diverted so easily, Samsu persisted, gesturing again, more vehemently at the cheek. Ashan dropped his hands and reddened as he mumbled something.

Samsu's head snapped around suddenly and his eyes bored into hers, smouldering with fury. She dropped her gaze immediately down to the table, cursing herself for losing her temper with Ashan, however much he deserved it.

There would be hell to pay for it now, she knew.

But Samsu would not interrupt his grand feast to condescend to speak to his whore, so she was safe for this evening at least, and indeed at most, she suspected. The wine did its work and she was able to shrug off the fear, losing herself in the fire dancers that followed the singers as they whirled and tossed their flaming torches, lulling her into a trance.

The fire dancers were followed by tumblers and acrobats, more singers, a performing bear who danced with a tragic expression to his trainer's commands... Eliana fought to keep awake as the wine fogged her head.

People had begun to filter away and Kisha, distressed by the tormented bear, leaned over to Eliana and whispered, 'do you want to go?'

She nodded, sleepily.

As they made their way from the hall, she felt a pair of eyes on her and turned back to scan the room. Her gaze locked with her father's and her heart skipped a beat. In that moment, she would have given everything to again be able to run to him and have him enfold her in his arms and ruffle her curls before sending her off for a bath. Her heart ached to look at him and remember what their lives had been.

She gave him a little smile and touched two fingers to her heart.

With a grave expression, he returned the gesture.

Kisha tugged on her arm, anxious to be away from the bear, and she allowed herself to be led from the hall.