The day of the wedding came around far too quickly for Eliana's liking, even with the extra week's grace that Ashan had managed to win her.
She knew very little of what to expect from the ceremony, beyond what she had seen of Kisha's wedding almost three years ago. From what Ashan had told her, this would be a far grander affair than her sister's marriage. Ashan could not explain why – perhaps it was an indication of Samsu's respect for her, he suggested. When she pulled a face, he shrugged, adding that it might be an attempt to gain some popularity with the people by putting on a grand spectacle for them. That sounded more likely.
A wedding would traditionally take place in the house of the bride's father, as responsibility for her wellbeing and ownership of her person passed from father to new husband. For Eliana, it would have been farcical to be married in her father's house – Samsu owned her; he had made that clear on the day he fastened the collar around her neck.
She had grown used to it now, the warm metal almost a comforting shield at her neck. She could not remember what it felt like to be without it – it had been part of her for over a year.
The ceremony, Ashan said, was to take place at the base of Enlil's temple, now given over to the worship of Marduk. To ensure a son this time, Samsu wanted the marriage blessed by his god, and so it would take place in sight of his house.
A dressmaker was sent to measure Eliana for a gown worthy of the occasion, and what he produced was truly magnificent. The golden shimmer of the fabric was like liquid sunlight, the tailoring exquisitely crafted to Eliana's shape, and the five tiers of the gown were so encrusted with beading that the creation could almost stand unassisted.
On the day of the wedding, Mari helped her into it, straightening and arranging each segment so that it lay perfectly under the next. Eliana's hair was washed and combed through with jasmine oil before being pinned into an elaborate and ornamented style so that some curls were plaited atop her head and secured with gold and emerald pins, while others were left to flow freely down her back or fashioned into soft spirals to frame her pale face.
Lining her eyes with malachite and gold dust, darkening her lashes with kohl and applying subtle vermillion to her lips and cheeks, she was almost ready. Mari had decorated Eliana's entire body with breathtaking henna designs yesterday – originally, they had only intended to decorate her arms and legs, but they had had so much fun over the patterning and symbolism that they soon got carried away, and Eliana's skin became a living canvas for Mari's art.
She wore the gold leaf-shaped earrings that Samsu had given her when she had pleased him so many months ago and slipping her feet into gold and beaded sandals. With her collar being so eyecatching, there was no need for more jewellery, though she felt a little pang of regret at having buried her mother's bracelet with Kisha. She would have liked a little piece of her family with her on this day. Although she had resigned herself to the fact that it must happen, she still felt a knot of nerves in her stomach at the thought of being the at the centre of such a prominent ceremony.
She was nothing more than an ornament, she told herself. She must stand and look pretty, and follow where she was directed. Everything would be fine.
It was almost midday when Ashan's knock sounded on the door. He had come to collect her for the procession through the city to the temple.
His eyes widened when he saw her, his thoughts written plain on his face. She looked like Inanna come to earth – a goddess renowned for her transcendent beauty. Wordlessly, he offered his arm. She took it graciously and followed him with her head held high.
He led her through a part of the palace she had never seen before; they emerged in the front courtyard where Samsu waited for upon his towering chestnut stallion, surrounded by a mounted guard. In contrast to his wedding to Kisha, he had dressed for the occasion. The tunic he wore was a match for her gown, created from the same fabric that could have been spun by Utu himself from his own rays.
Samsu nodded in satisfaction when he saw her. 'Good, let's go.'
Ashan lifted her onto a strawberry roan mare and the procession set off through the imposing north gate – when she entered, it had been through the servants' small eastern gate. It felt like a lifetime ago.
A band of slaves and heralds went ahead to clear the streets, closely followed by Samsu, surrounded by his mounted guards. A short distance after, Eliana followed, enclosed by four armed guards of her own – they walked alongside her, keeping perfect step with the horse.
She was a beautiful little mare, the ghostly paleness of her coat contrasting starkly with her blaze of red man and tail. Snorting, she tossed her head impatiently and curvetted, eager to trot, to canter, to gallop. She chafed at the stately pace of the procession. Calming her with a gentle hand on the neck, Eliana knew just how she felt. She had not been outside the palace walls for more than two years – the old familiar sights of the city warmed her heart beyond words. It was all she could do not to leap from the horse and run off to explore – she wanted to see if the baker still conducted his business from a lopsided shop down a side street, whether the merchant's wharf still bustled alongside the canal, and the farmers still employed the small boys of the street to chase the crows from the fields of new-planted seeds.
The citizens of Nippur lined the streets to watch Samsu pass – they did not cheer, but nor did they create trouble. The tension simmered like a pan of water over the fire. Eliana was grateful that the Nippurites were sensible enough to keep the peace, even if they did not give Samsu precisely what he wanted.
They smiled at Eliana though, many making encouraging gestures of blessing and good wishes. She smiled back at them, giving little waves where she could, though her guards shot her unpleasant looks when she tried to engage with the crowds.
In truth, she was startled by what she saw. The city's building were in a considerably worse state of decay than when she had last seen them, and evidence of increased poverty was all around her in the half-starved children with wide eyes, unmended damage to property, and the patched and torn clothing of a formerly fashionable and proud people.
She did not let her shock show, merely continuing to smile and wave, all the while plotting how she might sway Samsu to policies that might improve the everyday lives of the average Nippurite.
The procession wound its way down the main throughfare. They rounded a corner, and the great house of Enlil came into view. The ziggurat was a lofty pyramid constructed entirely of red brick, seven tiers high and faced with yellow glazing, it was a truly breathtaking sight. Ekur, the house of the mountain, was aptly named. Atop the ziggurat sat a modest temple – the house when Enlil dwelt, and no mortal man dared to venture. It was said that even the High Priest of Enlil was forbidden access.
As the dwelling place of the gods, the temple complex was not traditionally a place for communal worship or public ceremonies, but since it had been given over to Marduk, the Babylonian customs were beginning to take root.
Still, only priests were permitted to set foot on the ziggurat or in the rooms at its base. The marriage of Samsu and Eliana would take place in the forecourt at its base – within sight of Marduk's house, and so close that he could easily make his displeasure known if he did not wish to bless the union.
Part of Eliana still hoped that the Babylonian god would intervene where her own had failed. Perhaps he would not approve of her. Perhaps he would send some sign of anger and the ceremony would be halted.
She knew that she was hoping against hope. The gods had not taken much interest in what she wanted so far.
They reached the temple and dismounted outside. Samsu took Eliana's hand and led her through the great arched entrance. An altar had been set up in the centre of the courtyard – before the purification pond. The open space was flanked by aisles along either side; rooms for the priests led off the aisles, along with innumerable chapels and small temples to the pantheon of gods and goddesses that formed Enlil's court.
A podium and a mudbrick table for animal and vegetable sacrifices were set at one end of the forecourt. Eliana was relieved to see the table laden with produce – it would not be necessary to spill blood, even animal blood, on her wedding day. Behind the podium lay the granaries and storehouses.
Fish leapt in the pond, and Eliana was immediately taken back to that moment on the day of Kisha's wedding where they had held hands and gazed into their father's pond together. A bittersweet memory.
Back then, she could never dreamed what would happen in the years to come. Now she stood beside her sister's bridegroom, and Kisha lay cold under the earth.
The guests had placed themselves before Samsu's arrival, and the priest stood ready at the altar. The prince wasted no time, marching her straight up to the altar, leaving his Babylonians to fall in behind him and arrange themselves in the remaining space on the benches. Eliana's heart gave a little leap to see her father amongst the Nippurites assembled there. He was given a prominent position, and his face was greyer and more drawn than ever. She pitied him – this was a painful finality for her father, a confirmation of the fact that he would never get either of his daughters back. One was buried in the ground, the other entombed behind palace walls.
The nerves built at she approached the altar, but she forced herself to keep putting one foot before the other as Samsu propelled her along. This was it; she was sealing herself inside a gilded cage. Samsu had claimed ownership over her by right of conquest, but now he would have her in law.
She forced her mind to quiet – she would think about it later, when the deed was done. She would think about it tomorrow, when it was too late to change. If she thought about it too hard now, she would bolt like a frightened horse.
Releasing her in front of the altar, Samsu looked at her pointedly. With a jolt of realisation, she remembered Kisha's bow at the start of the proceedings and sank to her knees, touching her forehead to the floor.
Samsu raised her up and nodded to the priest.
The rites were just as they had been for Kisha's wedding. Beginning with the invocation of Marduk and a plea for his blessing, followed by the sprinkling of the grain and a prayer for Eliana's fertility, the priest went on to bind Eliana's hand to Samsu's with a coarse hair rope. In Marduk's name, he commanded her to faithfulness, honesty, loyalty and obedience before anointing the pair and the rope with holy oil, untying the rope and repeating the prayer he had opened with.
It was all so familiar to Eliana, and she lived through it as though she were a spectator again, imagining that it was Kisha stood at the altar, alive and well, with endless life stretching out before her.
She was snapped out of her trance when Samsu did not immediately drag her back up the aisle to return her to captivity in the palace. Instead, he raised he hand and made a curt beckoning gesture. Ashan stepped up behind him, a slave at his heels.
Ashan held out a small, golden key. Eliana's heart leapt – she did not quite dare to believe in what she hoped was about to happen.
Samsu reached behind her, fitting the key into the lock of her collar. To Eliana, the smooth click as the mechanism released was the sweetest note ever sounded. He lifted the heavy gold from her narrow shoulders and handed it to Ashan. She felt curiously light without it, as though she might float away into the ether without its weight to keep her grounded. Enlil was god of the wind, perhaps he hadn't entirely abandoned his house; his breeze on her bare skin was the sweetest kiss she had ever felt.
'A slave no longer,' Samsu intoned. 'Now, my wife.'
What's the difference? Eliana wondered, but she had the sense not to speak.
The slave stepped up from behind Ashan, extending a cushion. Samsu picked up the slender golden circlet that sat atop it. It was not unlike the one she had buried Kisha in, but this one was set with emerald and fashioned to look like a crown of beech leaves and flowers – it matched her earrings perfectly.
He placed it on her head, settling it amongst her curls so that the leaves banded her forehead. She tilted her head back and looked him in the eyes. As their gazes locked, she could have sworn she glimpsed some warmth.
It was gone as quickly as it had come.
Samsu took her hand and marched back up the aisle – the ceremony complete, he had no desire to linger. As she turned from the altar, her heart stopped momentarily. A pair of familiar figures hovered in the shadows. She knew their silhouettes very well – Kisha smiled gently at her sister, hands clasped over her belly; half a step behind her, his arm protectively around her waist, Isin's accusing stare was gone, replaced by an expression of soft compassion.
She caught sight of them only in a fleeting glance as she turned, when she twisted her head to look back over her shoulder, they were gone.
As Eliana was led back to the palace only half a horse behind Samsu, the crowds cheered her. Samsu was pleased, allowing himself to believe that their acclaim was for him. She smiled graciously at them – she was still only a concubine, but she could be the mother of their future ruler. In her, the citizens of Nippur saw a better future for their children.