The Whore of Babylon

Chapter 17 | part 3

**

She fidgeted impatiently on her cushions, waiting for Ashan to return. He had been gone for almost half an hour.

Her heart leapt as the door finally creaked open on its hinge; belly huge with child, her face drawn and pinched, in walked her sister.

'Kisha!' she cried, leaping up impulsively to run to meet her. She ran two steps before being yanked back viciously by the chain; she stumbled, and regained her balance.

Kisha walked quickly towards her with her arms outstretched, 'oh, Elly! I've missed you so much!'

Enfolding her in an embrace, tears began to run down Kisha's cheeks. Eliana breathed deeply, pressing her face against her sister's shoulder as she savoured the soft, loving arms around her, the steady heartbeat, the crisp rose perfume. As they held each other, the baby in Kisha's belly gave a hearty kick.

'Oh!' cried Eliana, laughing. 'I felt that, you naughty thing!'

'My boy is impatient,' grinned Kisha, pulling away. 'He is strong, and gives me no rest. Oh – your poor neck! Are you alright?'

A bruise was blossoming already where Eliana had forgotten the chain and run. 'Oh, it's fine,' she gave a rueful smile. 'You'd think I'd be used to this thing by now!'

'I would never expect you to get used to something like that. How much longer do you think he'll keep you like this?'

'Oh, not too much longer,' said Eliana brightly, trying to sound optimistic. In truth, she had no idea, but she didn't want to burden her sister any more than necessary.

'Good – I'm so hoping you can be with me for the birth. You were such a help last time.'

'Susa hasn't sent Ani again, has she?'

'No, no. It's just me and Mari. Though the physician has been out to examine me a few times.'

'Why?'

'A few twinges, nothing much. He says that my son is impatient to be out in the world, and my womb is preparing to help him on his way.'

'Well I hope you are resting enough.'

Kisha grimaced. 'It seems I do nothing but rest. Mari takes very good care of me.'

'I'm sure she does,' said Eliana carefully. She had never been entirely able to shake her suspicions about Mari and her motives. 'How is she?'

'She's well,' smiled Kisha. 'There's been a little romance with one of the gardeners – she seems very happy at last.'

'I'm pleased to hear it. How about Sarri? I miss her almost as much as I missed you!'

'She's beautiful,' Kisha positively glowed with pride. 'Walking and babbling and as mischievous as you were when you were tiny!'

'I wish you could have brought her,' said Eliana wistfully.

'Me too. But hopefully you'll see her soon enough – oh!'

Eliana took her sister's arm in concern as the older girl doubled over in pain, 'are you alright?'

'Fine, fine.' Kisha was pale as moonlight. 'Just another twinge.'

'Come and sit,' Eliana guided her to the cushions and settled her comfortably.

'Don't worry about me, Elly,' she gave a weak smile. 'Tell me about your life here.'

Eliana launched into the story of how she had solved the slave raider crisis for Samsu, and how he liked her to help with the basic running of Nippur and play the lyre for him, skipping over the more unsavoury details of her present state, trying to distract Kisha from her pains.

'You've always been so good on the lyre,' said Kisha. 'I'm glad he likes to listen to you play – I miss hearing you while I weave.'

'I can play, but I've never had the sweetness of your voice,' smiled Eliana. 'How about I play something now? You can sing me for.'

Kisha grinned and nodded. It was just like when they were children – Eliana's fingers flew over the strings, plucking out the intricate melody of their lullaby, while Kisha sang the words in her beautifully rich voice.

All too soon, Ashan reappeared in the doorway with an apologetic look on his face. 'Sorry, ladies. It's time for me to return Kisha to her rooms.'

The sisters hugged as if they would never let each other go – each one feeling how much the other needed her. At length, they broke apart, all unwillingly.

'Take care of yourself,' whispered Eliana, feeling foolish. The words seemed so inadequate.

'You too,' replied Kisha, as Ashan took her arm and led her away, leaving her sister alone with her thoughts.

**

The next day was a long and boring one for Eliana. She slept in the morning after Samsu departed, as she always did, but her afternoon was quiet and dull with no walk to break it up. Ashan was being kept busy by his duties and did not find time to visit, so she sat with nothing to turn to but her own mind.

She spent most of the day reliving Kisha's visit. Despite her drawn face and the paleness of her complexion, her sister had looked beautiful. Pregnancy suited her.

Eliana did not forget to pray that day; she prayed to Enlil to intercede with the other gods for Kisha – to sent her an easy birth, for her child to be the little prince so desired by both his parents, and to be freed in time to present at the birth.

When Samsu returned to his rooms after dinner, the evening passed in much the usual way. He lounged on his bed, picking at a dish of honeyed dates as Eliana played a soothing tune. If it hadn't been for the chain about her neck and the distinct loathing she felt in the pit of her stomach when she looked at him, she was sure that it might have passed for a scene of domestic bliss.

A knock at the door shattered their harmony. 'Enter!' barked Samsu, displeased by the disturbance.

The door edged open and a short man stepped nervously inside. His frame was spare and wiry, with eyes that seemed over-large for his face, a beak-like nose and thin wisps of copper hair plastered to his head, he distinctly resembled an owl. Eliana struggled to repress a giggle as she looked at him.

The laughter died in her throat when he spoke. 'Sir, your concubine is in labour.'

No, no it was too early. The baby had five weeks to go yet.

'How long?' asked Samsu sharply.

'She began in the early hours of the morning, before the sun was risen.'

'So? Out with it man – physicians do not usually attend me to tell me when my women are in labour. I only need to know about the outcome, not the process.'

'The baby is stuck, sir.'