The Very Best of Kate Elliott (46 page)

“There’s nothing new!” exclaimed Eili. “Same old village! Same old work! Same old people! How can you be so cheerful?”

“Nothing new! The sun is new each day! New water flows down the river each day! Every year we grow new crops!”

“Same old crops! I want to see the world!”

Indu grinned and gestured toward the sky, where clouds moved in from the east like sheep headed homeward, then at the marsh behind and the village ahead. “The world is here! The world is where you and I are.”

“Oh, you’ll never understand.” Disgusted, she stood in order to pole the boat precisely in against the earth jetty.

“Hiai!” Indu leaped out of the boat and into water that lapped his knees. The boat rocked wildly under Eili, but she steadied it quickly as she stared at her brother, now gone crazy. He splashed up to the shore and ran toward their mother.“Nin-Imah! Nin-Imah! Come quickly!”

Two pigs, foraging on the verge of marsh and land, ambled over to investigate. Ahead, her brother was gesticulating, talking to their mother with wide, sweeping gestures of his hands yet careful in his excitement not to touch her. It was only when Eili had settled the boat and brought it up beside the jetty that she looked down to see what had so startled Indu. Blood stained the wood bench where she had sat.

It had not been an animal’s blood at all, on the marsh hillock where they’d gathered dates. It had been hers.

Nin-Imah sent Indu off to the little temple house to warn the priestess and then came over to Eili. She chased off the pigs, then helped the girl out of the boat, and leaned in after to touch her finger to the smear of blood on the bench. Touching the blood to her tongue, she considered its taste with great seriousness while Eili watched her apprehensively.

Nin-Imah was very old, so old she had a living grandchild who could already walk and talk, and Eili was her youngest child. But to Eili’s eyes the white ringlets in her mother’s coarse black hair represented just another sign of her great strength and wisdom. Stout of body, she had sharp, black eyes in a face wrinkled from endless hours working under the Anu’s bright rays. Eili couldn’t remember her looking any other way. Maybe one day she’d look like that, but she couldn’t imagine being so old.

Nin-Imah smacked her lips and nodded.“First blood,” she said with satisfaction. “Your time is come, Eili. Now you’ll be a woman and we can accept that offer of six sheep and the brindled ox from Natum’s family as your bride-price.”

“Hiai!” Eili jumped out of the boat.“Marry Natum!”

“Natum is a good boy,” scolded Nin-Imah.

Eili made a face, but since it was true, she couldn’t disagree. “Why can’t I go to the big temple in Eridu?”

Nin-Imah snorted. “You and your talk of the big temple in Eridu! I know what you dream about, but your father can’t afford that kind of dowry nor your brothers the upkeep it would cost every year.”

She had practiced this response for a long time now, ever since her father and Natum’s father had first spoken of a marriage contract between her and the young man.“You’ve no one to marry after me, Nin-Imah. Think of what a fine honor to our family it would be to send me to be a servant of the goddess at the temple in Eridu.”

Nin-Imah only grunted, but that was enough for Eili.

“I know you’ll convince Father.”

“Huh. Don’t pester me. You walking all the way to Eridu!” But she had that secret little half-smile on her face. She had some things of her own, did Nin-Imah, certain beads and precious shells, a copper knife and even a few rods of silver tucked away, that could be added to her husband’s wealth to make up a dowry for the temple.“At least it would relieve me of all your questions, day in and day out. But you must go to the priestess now. I’ll speak to her of this. There’ll be some kind of test, to see if you’re suitable.”

Eili wasn’t afraid of any test, but she knew better than to say so out loud. After all, the demons might be listening and hatch a plan to ruin all her hopes.

Her mother tossed the fish into her basket with her thinned onions, then set the smaller basket of dates on top of them with a frown. With an efficiency that betrayed long years of practice, she bundled up the rushes that lay in the bottom of the boat. “Come, girl. All this you’ve gathered today will have to be offered to the goddess.”

“Even the fish? Indu caught the fish.”

“That fish could poison the men if they ate it. A girl’s first blood is very powerful, almost as powerful as birthing blood. So you come with me and don’t touch anything or look at any men! I’ll have to scrub down the boat and even then the priestess will have to purify it before your brothers or father can go out again in it.” She clucked her tongue between her teeth, thinking no doubt of the gifts they’d have to lay on the offering table so that the priestess could do all this work. Any change in life brought a great deal of trouble with it;
everyone
knew that. Demons hovered round all the time, though no mortal person could see them, and waited for people to do something wrong. That was where they got their power from.

She and her mother gathered up everything that had been in the boat, even the old rushes, and carried them together to the temple. Nin-Imah announced loudly to every passerby that Eili had started with her first blood so men would know not to look at her and possibly get themselves hurt. Eili had to keep her gaze on the dirt, once colliding with a pig, but it was better once they arrived in the temple precincts. Here she didn’t have to stare at the ground. The priestess was very holy and the old priest powerful enough that women’s blood wouldn’t burn him as it might an ordinary man.

At the gate that led into the courtyard, the priestess met them. A fringed skirt and a woven winter shawl with shells and beads sewn into it draped over her arms. Silent, she dressed Eili in these garments, then permitted the girl to enter the temple precincts carrying the offerings. While Eili hesitantly walked into the empty courtyard, the priestess remained at the gate to speak with her mother. Eili waited until the old priest emerged from the temple itself and beckoned her inside.

Eili had never been in the temple before. Like any house it had a packed dirt floor, but there the resemblance ended. It reeked of incense: juniper, and myrtle. The walls had been white washed, and in each niche a bright painting flared like an animal caught in life: a lion, a bull, a twining scorpion, an ibex with its curling horns. There, in the center, stood the offering table, and at the far end, illuminated by a high, open niche in the wall, rested the altar with a number of small clay figures sitting on it. She tried not to look too closely. What if she wasn’t strong enough to see such things? What if the goddess’ power struck her down? She tried to keep her gaze on the dirt floor but couldn’t help sneaking peeks.

The priestess returned, looking grave. She indicated to Eili that she was to set the offerings on the table. The girl set them down carefully, the dates, the basket of sea-perch and onions: and the rushes bundled into a sheaf.

Then the priestess led her outside to the back portion of the courtyard, enclosed by the same man-high mud-brick wall. Here stood three small reed huts as well as a hearth fire ringed by stones, a small earth platform with a grindstone and clay pestles, and a flat stretch of ground patterned with small holes where, in the dry season, a ground loom would be pegged out.

One reed structure, more of a lean-to, rested up against the wall. The priestess gestured to her to go in, and Eili ducked under the low threshold. Inside it was dank and musty, strong-smelling with the scent of women’s magic. She hesitated, wanting to ask what was expected of her, but the priestess’ footsteps whispered away over the dirt. She was alone.

There wasn’t much to look at. Even a poor man and his family lived in a better house than this, a big mat of palm leaves and sticks woven together and leaned against the mud-brick wall to form a shelter. A few narrow holes had been drilled through the thick wall. Peeking through them, she saw slivers of the village beyond, just enough that with her knowledge of the buildings she could piece together the whole in her mind’s eye. She heard pigs grunting as they rooted through a midden, and the laughter of children.

A hush like pattering feet rose up from the marsh: the rains had come. They swept over the village, drumming on the dirt. Rain leaked through the reed canopy above her to drip on her bare shoulders. It was cool and she shivered, crouched down to wrap arms around knees and tighten the shawl over her shoulders and hair. Her belly ached. Blood dripped from between her legs to dampen and blend with the musky earth.

The rain moved off. No one came. She heard the ordinary sounds of life around her, but nothing else. Nothing unusual—nothing new at all. It was a long day, waiting, and when dusk shuttered down with its quick hand and Anu sank westward into the underworld, she even got a little scared: she, Eili, who was scared of nothing and wanted to know everything.

Maybe being a priestess wasn’t such a good thing after all if it meant sitting alone in huts all day and night. Maybe it would be better to marry Natum.

“Eili!”

The whisper came to her through the drill holes. She squinted out through them but it was too dark to make out more than shadows.

“What is that? Who are you?” Could it be a demon, speaking in a voice meant to sound human? She didn’t recognize the voice, and couldn’t even tell if it was man or woman, muffled as it was.

“The Great Serpent is out tonight.”

“Hiai! You’re scaring me.”

“You’re safe, you’re safe, woman,” the voice replied and then laughed softly, a pleasant sound that made her feel easier. “You’re on the island, the first island, the old island. You’re protected by its magics and the power of your first blood. You belong to the goddess while you stand on her sacred ground. Go outside and tell me what you see.”

She rose, groaning with the stiffness in her legs, and ducked out under the threshold. Outside, she looked around. It was hard to see anything but shadows though she could easily make out the square temple walls that loomed beside her. Then she looked up and gasped. Above, a winter shawl of brightness cloaked the night sky. She didn’t look at the stars much. Usually she was asleep by now.

“I see the stars. And there! There’s the moon.” It was thin and curved, like a clay sickle.

“What are the stars?”

Eili opened her mouth, then stood there, gaping up at the stars. “I don’t know. They’re stars. They’re the light by which the gods feast in the temple up in heaven.”

“Watch the stars,” said the voice, and nothing more.

Eili hissed between her teeth, angry at these riddles. She heard nothing, not even footsteps rustling away—but the voice did not speak again.

And now, as her irritation faded, she became curious. What
were
the stars? She watched for as long as she could keep awake, shivering in the cold night air. Like Anu, the stars rose in the east and set westward, rolling down into the underworld.

Finally she returned to the hut to curl up in a dry corner and sleep. In the morning the priestess brought her water to wash and a bundle of leaves to soak up the blood, though there wasn’t much. She brought bread as well, served on a plate with dates and freshly baked sea-perch.

“How long will I stay here?” Eili asked, but the priestess only smiled in her grave manner and handed her a spindle and flax so that she could spin.

In this manner she passed a tedious day in solitude.

That night, the voice came again.

“What are the
mes?”
it asked her.

“The
mes
are the spirits that govern the decrees the gods make. Everyone knows that!” Her belly ached a lot right now. That, and these stupid questions, made her grumpy.

If the voice could hear her bad mood, it took no notice but went on. “The Great Serpent troubles the world, wanting to return everything to the old sea which was all and everywhere before the first creatures came to be. But the
mes
keep order. The stars keep order.”

“Hiai!” She forgot about her aching belly as a flood of questions came to her tongue. “How do the stars keep order? Are they
mes?
Are they also spirits?”

“Watch the stars, curious one. Watch the stars, you who know everything there is.” Now the voice sounded amused, and Eili knew it could not be a demon. Demons didn’t know how to be happy.

She crawled out of the hut and watched the stars. To her amazement, she recognized some of the patterns. At least some, then, were the same as they had been last night, bright torches flung up into the heavens: a sicklelike head traced in stars; a cluster of six bright stars like a handful of shining pearls just above a pair of horns; a wagon and curved shaft; two bright stars standing close together as might a sister and brother, she and Indu. The moon, like Indu, had been eating and had gotten a little fatter.

The next day the priestess brought food again, bread, fish cakes, and beer, and graciously allowed her to spend the day grinding emmer into meal.

The next night she waited and waited, but the voice didn’t come. At last she curled up and fell asleep . . . only to be woken suddenly by a low chuckle and a hissing, like a snake. She jumped up, horrified. With the wood plate as a weapon she slapped the floor around her to kill any snake or scorpion that might have snuck in and curled up under her mat. But the hiss came from neither snake nor scorpion.

“When comes the New Year?”

The question startled her, and she stood, flatfooted, wood plate dangling from her fingers, and considered. She had never before given much thought to when the New Year came, only that the priestess always told them when the time was right to celebrate. But she wasn’t willing to reveal her ignorance so easily.“Soon. It comes soon.”

“When?”

Maybe it
was
a demon questioning her. Only demons would be so persistent.“Right before the floods come.”

“When will the floods come?”

Did this voice know how to speak at all except to ask her questions she couldn’t answer? “Soon, I said!”