Hostage Princess

Part 4 - the Family

The family had gathered in the Hall of Destinies to greet the victorious king. Lined up in neat rows were the servants and slaves of the palace, kneeling in bows to their sovereign.

By the time Susa reached the hall, her legs would barely hold her. She summoned her last reserve of strength as she composed herself outside the doors. Three times her height and wide enough for six horses abreast, the great wooden doors were carved with images of the Babylonian gods, to remind all those who entered of who ultimately had charge of their fate.

The doors were thrown open, her name cried; she took a firm step forward on trembling legs. She looked neither left nor right as she walked the length of the hall, concentrating only on the next breath, the next step, reaching the dais unassisted. In her peripheral vision she was dimly aware of the rows of kneeling slaves, the gorgeously painted supporting pillars lining the hall, the bright glazed tiles below her feet. With her head held high, she stopped before the thrones upon which King Hammurabi and his queen sat. Two boys and a young woman stood behind.

In the Babylonian style, Susa sank into a graceful bow before them all – it would not do to insult them, however much she would have liked to see them all drop dead in front of her. She would have to live with them perhaps for the rest of her life, and she was determined that they should like her, if it was in her power to make them. For Ashan’s sake as much as her own. Her future, as a prize for the crown prince, was assured; his was not.

As she rose up, the girl behind the queen’s throne gave her a dazzling smile, full of warmth and friendliness. Taken aback, Susa returned the smile.

Hammurabi spoke first, ‘Susa, Princess of Elam, it gives me great pleasure to welcome you to my court, my home and my family.’

‘Thank you, sir,’ Susa dipped her head respectfully.

‘May I present my wife, Erasai, Queen of Babylon,’ he gestured to the woman on the throne beside him.

‘Your Highness,’ she nodded again. The queen inclined her head in return with a vague half-smile.

‘And my sons, Malku and Nisitu,’ the boys stepped forward as their names were spoken and made cordial bows. ‘One of them will be your husband, when the time is right.’

‘I am delighted to meet you both,’ she lied. ‘I am grateful that the decision is out of my hands, for I could never choose between two such fine princes.’

Hammurabi was pleased, but the young men looked offended, as if neither could be to be considered the equal of his brother. No more than a couple of years separated them, though they were still almost a decade Susa’s junior. The taller of the two, who had answered to Malku, seemed to be the eldest, with long, lean limbs and the faintest shadow of a beard beginning on his cheeks. ‘It is a great privilege to meet you, my lady, and to be your husband would be the greatest honour.’

Not to be outdone, the other boy, Nisitu, took half a step forward. He had a firm-set jaw and definition in his arms and shoulders that showed the promise of a strong warrior when he was grown. ‘It would be the happiest day of my life to claim you as my wife, my lady. I am sure that we would find much joy in each other, and make many strong sons to follow us.’

She flushed and gave them both gracious smiles. It was obvious that there was little love lost between them, as rivals for their father’s favour. Behind her blushing facade, she looked at them indifferently, wondering which one she would marry, but not much caring.

As they moved back, the smiling young woman stepped lightly out from behind the thrones and descended the steps of the dais – to Susa’s complete shock, the girl embraced her. As she broke away, she said, ‘I shall be delighted to call you my sister, Susa.’