The Whore of Babylon

Chapter 26 | part 1

The first few days were the hardest. She could barely look at her own children – every glance reminded her of him. She couldn't even think his name without recalling his expression as her words broke his heart. His absence was agonising, and more so for knowing it was permanent.

With everyone now in their rooms and beginning to settle into their new home, Eliana could be grateful that she at least had Mari back near her. Any friendly, familiar face was welcome now. She even welcomed Asag when he visited, and he came often to see Mari and her bump. It was clear that he was utterly besotted with her – he made no secret of his affection for a slave, though the other guards mocked him for it.

Since the night he had helped to save them both from the Brute, he had redeemed himself in Eliana's eyes. She dismissed his past crimes as the follies of a boy trying to impress hardened men, and a soldier obeying his orders.

Mari positively glowed; she was the most content Eliana had ever known her. All she lacked to complete her happiness was her freedom. Eliana approached Samsu to ask permission to free Mari, but was rudely rebuffed and given no explanation. She didn't push the issue. Her husband was more on edge and unpredictable than ever now that the pressures of kingship had been laid upon his shoulders. She was frightened to cross him, lest he return to treating her as he had when she had first been taken captive. Memories of the weight of her collar and the dull chink of the chain were as strong as if it had been only last week, though it had been almost a year since she'd been freed.

Which meant... almost a year since Kisha's death. When she thought of it, there was a painful stab of grief in her belly, and she felt almost crushed by the weight of her sadness. A year... how much had changed. And how much had not.

Whatever else changed in her life, with Kisha gone she would always feel as though her shadow was missing.

Still, she did not have much time to dwell on her sadness. No sooner was the coronation over than the harvest festival began. The twelve days of Akitu were the highlight of the Babylonian calendar, Asag told her. It was a time for celebration and feast as the barley was cut and the Babylonians marked Marduk's victory over Tiamat.

The high priest of Marduk came down from Esagila, his huge temple complex in the north of the city, and three miserable days of dirge-like prayers and penitence followed. Interminable hours of recitation and response – the people expressing a sad fear of the unknown, the priest begging Marduk's forgiveness, pleading with him to protect the people and his holy city.

If this was what passed for a festival in Babylon, Eliana would have hated to see an occasion for sombreness. She had always thought of the Babylonians as barbarians, and first-hand experience of their biggest celebration was doing nothing to change her opinion. Where was the cheer, the warmth? The thanks to the gods, the gratitude for all that they had? Festivals in Nippur were full of life and colour; they celebrated the present and were thankful for the past, not filled with pessimistic laments about the opacity of the future.

These rituals, known as the Secret of Esagila continued throughout the fourth day. When darkness fell, Eliana dressed in a gown as deep in colour as the night sky and walked with Samsu at the head of a torchlit procession of hundreds of Babylonians making their way to Esagila to hear the Epic of Creation, Enuma Elish. The full tale was said to be more than one thousand lines long, over seven impossibly huge clay tablets. Eliana was keen to learn more of Babylonian beliefs, but she already felt numb with boredom as she anticipated the lengthy reading.

They entered the great round tower of Esagila. Flaming torches burned in their brackets and the vaulted ceiling was lost in darkness; reed mats rustled underfoot – every step crushed the aromatic dried herbs strewn across the mats, releasing their sweet perfume until the air was thick with torch smoke and heavy scent. Samsu led her to two thrones of elaborately carved cedar wood set on a dais scattered with petals and sat her upon the lower one.

She settled herself against the cushion as the priest took up his position; there were some advantages to being queen. She and Samsu were the only two permitted seats.

'When the sky above was not named, and the earth beneath did not yet bear a name,' the priest droned, 'and the primeval Apsu, who begat them, and chaos, Tiamat, the mother of them both, their waters were mingled together, and no field was formed, no marsh was to be seen; when of the gods none had been called into being...'

Already Eliana could feel her eyelids drooping. The hour was late, and it was warm and dark inside the temple. The smothering perfume and close press of bodies inside were doing nothing to help.

She forced her eyes open, sat bolt upright and leaned away from the chair. It was unthinkable that she should doze off – she dreaded to imagine Samsu's reaction.

Throughout the reading, she felt him shoot sharp looks at her, making sure she was still paying attention. She forced her spine rigid, made her eyes look bright and interested.

On and on the priest drawled. Tiamat, goddess of chaos and the ocean tried to prevent her husband, Apsu, god of fresh water from destroying the younger gods whose noise and babble disturbed him. To prevent it, Tiamat recruited Ea, the most powerful of the gods, to put Apsu into a coma and kill him. Ea became king of the gods, and had a son – Marduk.

As a child, Marduk was given the wind to play with. The dust storms and tornadoes he created disrupted Tiamat's great oceanic body, rendering all the gods residing inside it unable to sleep. Frustrated, they persuaded Tiamat to take revenge for the death of her husband. As her power grew, gods flocked to her banner. She created eleven monsters to help her win the battle, married again and elevated her new husband to supreme dominion...

Eliana gave up paying attention and let her mind wander as the priest went into a lengthy description of the other gods feeling threatened by Kingu, the new husband, and his position of power.

Only when she felt Samsu's critical gaze on her did she remember to pay attention again.

Marduk offered to save the gods from Kingu if they would agree to appoint him as their leader and remain so after the threat had passed. The gods agreed to Marduk's conditions, selecting him as their champion against Tiamat.

The great god Marduk challenged Tiamat to combat, and utterly defeated her. He ripped her corpse into two halves, fashioning the earth from one half, and the skies from the other. He then set about creating the calendar, organising the planet and stars and regulating the moon, the sun and the weather.

Those other gods who had pledged their allegiance to Tiamat were forced into labour in the service of those who sided with Marduk, until he destroyed Kingu and created humankind from his blood to serve the gods instead...

To keep herself amused, Eliana tried to picture it all in her head, to imagine the faces of the gods – their anger, their jealousy, their betrayals... but it all blurred in her mind as the hours drew on and Suen rose high in the sky outside the temple.

By the time the ritual was concluded and they processed back to the palace, Eliana was almost asleep on her feet. But it was done. This was explanation of Marduk's might and the source of his power, and considered the beginning of the preparations for Samsu's submission before the god. It would take place tomorrow, on the fifth day, and Eliana was eager to see her proud and arrogant husband brought to humility before his god.