16. Loyalty or Love

984 180 13
                                    

The rain had stopped, at last, but the clouds kept the night dark. There were no stars in the sky and no moon behind the blanket of grey. The city had gorged itself on the flood, and its soil had swelled and burst in places. The makeshift houses and stalls of the street market littered the landscape, torn and broken, as if an army rampaged through the city. Garbage spread all over the roads: dried fish, stationary, trinkets, wilted green vegetables, wood carvings, clothes. Without the usual press of people, the ill-lit streets sounded hollow, amplifying the smallest of sounds.

Behind me, a child's crying turned my attention to the horde of people packed within the highest tier of the ziggurat. Its mother soothed the child to be quiet as soon as she noticed my gaze. She kissed his forehead, brushing his raven locks the same way mother did whenever we were afraid.

"They owe their lives to you," Idal said, wrapping an extra shawl around my shivering shoulders.

I hadn't even noticed the cold of the night but once Idal left my side, proceeding to give blankets to the mothers and their children, a shiver ran down my spine.

The shivering stopped the moment a warmth accompanied by the scent of jasmine found my side. "In this storm, in this wind that howls, you are the gentle centre. And so I come to rest at your side." Dingira said, her eyes of liquid amber were pinned on Kituzda. "I see that fire-haired priestess that disapproves and the judgement the lords of Ur feel so entitled to. But every person needs a harbour, a secure attachment of love–for without one we are in such pain, so lost, within this cruel world. Then life becomes a torture we are expected to endure, surviving instead of living. Were it not for you, my Anna, I would have never known relief, nor the power of compassion. You are my hero as well as theirs. You are safety and love within a city of lost morals and corruption. You are an anchor I hold on to, that I tether myself to because I know you are someone who can change the future."

"That was beautiful. You should write that down." I said, earning a subtle smile from those plump lips. "Why? The one who it was intended for has heard it."

Dingira's words were sweeter than honey, but she was right. Kituzda and the lords of Ur were still judging me with hostile gazes. The words they speak behind your back are often more truthful than the words they speak to your face, is what father advised me. His wise counselling made more sense now that I could observe everyone within the temple. Slaves and lords were all sitting on equal footing, if only for a moment. One looking at me with eyes of awe, the other with calculated hesitation. For the poor, I was a hero, as Dingira put it. But for the nobility, I was an enemy, as father warned me.

So, which one was I supposed to be? The hero of the masses, relishing in their praise. Or the Akkadian priestess send from a foreign land defending my presence at every turn.

The anxiety within my dual thoughts were akin to a horse galloping around the dessert over and over, faster and faster. It was pointless. Sleep would not come to me tonight, my mind wouldn't let it. Why couldn't I just relish in this moment?

My visions were correct. Not only that, but they had saved lives. After this, no one would care whether it was Inanna or Nanna who had showed me those visions, right? Deep down, I feared the answer.

Ur was Nanna's city, its walls were shaped by the recurring light of his ever shining moon. Inanna was father's patron goddess, the one who had brought him victory after victory. The warrior who helped him tear down Ur's very walls. No, its citizens would condemn Inanna as much as they condemned my family.

As dawn announced the new day, I took the vantage point to look out over Ur. My eyes were so busy taking in the destruction caused by the flood that my ear failed to pick up on the approaching steps until a tap on my shoulder brought me face to face with Kituzda. "We'll let the people return home. We have much to rebuild."

Enheduanna: The First Author - Wattys Winner 2021Where stories live. Discover now