Enheduanna: The First Author - Wattys Winner 2021

12. Where Is The Poison?

Even from the first tier of the ziggurat, I could see the entire road up to the temple, now filled with men in red robes and extravagant furs. They passed through the main gate and up the broad avenue to the ramp that ascended this tiered tower. Their slaves burdened with the offerings meant for me. 

Me, the one who was invisible not too long ago. Now worshipped like a goddess reborn.

Passing the temple functionaries who lined the path to my throne, I took my place in the centre of this ceremony. My heart swelling with pride. This was the beginning of my new life. From this day on, I could be someone without my family's shadows looming over me. Free from the burdens of royalty, from now on I would be lord and master of my own life. 

The temple singers sang with bright voices, shaking their beribboned hoops to the rhythm of the drums. The acolytes entered first, carrying the statue of Nanna. "Hail! To the one who lights the night we hail!" they cried in unison, placing the statue in its niche beside me.

As the tempo of the drums rose, and the timpani players chimed out sweet notes, the lords entered the great hall. The instruments fell silent once all were in place, and the congregation knelt and bowed their heads. 

All for me. 

I rose to anoint the statue of Nanna with the lotus oil drawing circles on its forehead. My husband, my god, my savior. You gave me wings, and I shall fly in your grace. Never let me fall, oh great Nanna.

When I turned around to face the crowd once more, I swallowed my nerves. "O house of the ziggurat, grown together with heaven and earth. Foundation of heaven and earth, great banqueting hall of Eridu! Nanna, shrine brightly for the house upon the holy mound where pure food is eaten, watered by the pure canal of Enki. This mountain, cleansed with the potash plant, Nanna, your drums belong to the divine powers."

Softly, the musicians began a stately tune. One by one, the lords approached the throne, presenting the offerings their slaves and servants piled on the platform before the statue. Special earrings, bracelets, a turban, a breastplate inlaid with gems. The list went on. The countless bearded faces started to blur together, to the point that the bald head of a lord named Lugal-ane seemed more like a hallucination than reality. 

"Enheduanna, may you bring peace and prosperity to Ur in the name of Nanna," he said with a voice as sweet as honey. His words did not differ from the blessings of all the other lords. Still, all that sweetness seemed to cover up some sour undertone, forcing me to respond. 

"I intend to bring peace, lord Lugal-ane. Ur should no longer remain forlorn in this desert."

"Forlorn?" The bald lord retorted, "forgive me, great lady, but our city was the most prosperous when we were our own lord and master." 

"And you shall remain your own lord and master," I responded quickly, scrambling for the words to correct my little slip. His hostile gaze demanded an explanation. I was still an Akkadian in the Sumerians' eyes, one who was the offspring of the man who tore down their walls no less. "What I mean is - you have suffered so many floods. The constant rebuilding must be tiring. I'll make sure Akkad will aid you, should tragedy strike again."

Lugal-ane raised an eyebrow, "what makes you think we want Akkadian aid?"

"Won't it be helpful to have the king provide extra supplies when needed?"

Laughter erupted from the lords. Bouncing off the smooth temple walls. Lugal-ane joined them, the jewels around his neck jumping around his rumbling stomach. "Sargon is far too lenient on his duties to ever pay mind to our supplies. Always going off to war or to kill another enemy. How can he rule the cities if he's never here? Does he think the grain grows by itself? Does he think the sheep tend themselves? The bread his soldiers eat comes from our fields, his army feasts on the mutton that is stolen from our mouths."