Twilight in Babylon (25 page)

Puabi sat like a statue. He doubted she heard even every other word, and he suspected she didn’t care. The stargazers waited in his chambers, and he waited while the long-winded gentlemen of the council debated each other.

Women clustered around the edges of the room, watching their husbands, brothers, and sons as they made choices that would affect them all. Though Cheftu had recognized the older man from the field, Justice Ningal, a much-respected gentleman, he didn’t see Chloe. He didn’t dare send her a note; for now, she would just have to be secure in the knowledge that they were both in the same time, in the same place. Puabi had more eyes on him than any king had ever assigned to his pretender to the throne.

No decisions would be voted on tonight, it was just information. The
lugal
dismissed them all, and Puabi and Cheftu left first, protected by a phalanx of priests, scribes, and Puabi’s multitudes of handmaidens. “Do I have to go?” she asked, as they mounted the sledge.

“Back to the temple?” he asked. The driver goaded the oxen and the vehicle jerked forward.

“No, of course I want to go to the temple. I mean to the meeting, with all the stargazers. They’re just going to talk about the rust and how it means I should resign. I don’t want to hear it. I have—”she shut up.

“You have what?”

“Other things to do,” she said. Her tone was defensive.

“I don’t care with whom you congress,” he said.

“Obviously.”

“We’re discussing your life, Puabi. Don’t you want to be there?”

“I vote I get to rule!” she said. “There is no more discussion, as far as I am concerned.”

Perhaps when they first woke together and Cheftu gauged her gaze to be sharp or intelligent, he was overstating it. Aware, perhaps. Smarter than the oxen, but as self-absorbed- as a snake. Yet he also felt a great warmth toward her—Kidu’s unexplained emotions. They rode in silence. Night had fallen again, cooling the earth.

He sighed as they pulled into the temple complex.

“Are you angry with me?” Puabi asked, touching his arm.

He looked into her beautiful face. Her eyes were clear, concerned. If he didn’t know her better, he would think she cared about her people, her land. He knew better. There was no point in directing anger at her. He’d just have to apologize and endure her pouting. “Of course not,” he said, and patted her arm. “I will let you know what happens.”

“I want to be
ensi,
” she said, squeezing his arm. “There is no one trained to take my place, and I haven’t even had a child. I’m young, Kidu. Vital. Don’t dismiss me just to satisfy wishes of gods who loathe us and plague us for their amusement. Protect me, please. And I’ll protect you.” The handmaidens came panting into the courtyard, racing to catch up with Puabi. She kissed his cheek, and Cheftu watched the whole retinue disappear into the maze of buildings.

“Bring me some food,” he told an acolyte. “I’ll be in my audience chamber.” Wondering how to get to Chloe.

*      *     *

Ezzi bowed as the
en
swept in on a cloud of smoke and incense. The golden-haired man didn’t sit, but crossed his arms and greeted Asa curtly. “I won’t discuss the past,” he said. “Situations have arisen, of which I’m sure you are aware, that prohibit me knowing the truth about predictions you’ve made and whether or not they’ve been accurate.” Ezzi waited for Asa to turn and denounce him as the thief in the Office of Records. The moment passed, and the
en
turned away.

“The crop has failed. Officially, Ur anticipates a famine.” He spun on his heel and faced the stargazers. “You claim disaster will be averted by the dismissal of the ensi. When is that to be?”

The stargazer stepped closer to the
en.
“Because of the delicacy of this discussion, it would be best if we spoke alone. The two of us.” He stared into the
en’s
face.

Ezzi coughed lightly into his palm; he wasn’t going to be left out of this.

Kidu surveyed the stargazer’s face, then dismissed everyone. Ezzi didn’t move, and the
en
looked at him with a raised eyebrow. Asa didn’t look, but said Ezzi must stay. The
en
didn’t offer them seats or refreshment; there was no hospitality, which Ezzi thought extremely rude. Instead, the man crossed his arms, sent cold amber glances over both men, and said he was listening.

“For the sake of the people, the
ensi
must die,” Asa said.

The
en
sat down. “This is quite a different story than the one you bore before,” he said. “Why the change?”

“Will you believe my words, or do you need verification from the stargazer Rudi?”

The
en
didn’t respond to the provocation, just templed his fingers and inclined his head for Asa to speak.

“First there was the blood moon, then stars falling through the house of Puabi’s birth, and now the failed crops. The gods are displeased. The blood moon means blood is needed to wipe the clay smooth. So we can be free from curses, and starvation. Such are the ways of the gods.”

Kidu spoke calmly. “What of the
lugal
and me?”

“Your star is safe, secure. Just the
ensi.
” Asa swallowed audibly. “Just Puabi.”

The three fell silent. Ezzi watched the
en’s
face, blank, though his eyes seemed to search the air before him for answers. “Who will bear her this news?” Kidu asked.

“Actually,” Asa said, “as it will be an official funeral, all her handmaidens, attendants, and the like will go with her, to serve her in Kur.”

The
en
blinked. He said nothing.

“Perhaps, we can negotiate with the gods?” Asa said.

Again, the
en
didn’t speak. However, he did raise a brow in query. Finally, he said, “Speak at your will.”

“The gods need a sacrifice to be named the
ensi,
they don’t actually need Puabi—”

“Substitute another for her!” Ezzi interjected.

The
en
looked from one man to the other. “Is this your suggestion, stargazer Asa?”

The stargazer didn’t acknowledge Ezzi, but Ezzi felt Asa’s ire and his surprise. “The
asu
and
asipu
have used this technique with the ill for quite some time,” Asa said. “It is a secret practice among the initiated.”

Ezzi felt the
en’s
gaze again, this time not quite as dismissive. The en assumed Ezzi was among the initiated. The gods rewarded bad behavior, Ezzi was sure of it now. Though perhaps from the gods’ point of view, his behavior was good. After all, who knew what those divinities had planned for the slave humans?

“Let us speak directly, Asa,” the
en
said dryly. “You enter these chambers, with news that Puabi must die. Now you suggest the gods will be pleased if another woman goes to her death in the guise of Puabi, and the
ensi
actually lives.”

Asa shrugged. “The minds of the gods are convoluted. This arrangement would not be offensive to them. A man may assume the debts of a family member and be sold into slavery for him.”

“It’s the same principle,” Ezzi said.

The
en’s
smile was thin. “Death and slavery are not the same, sir.”

“Truth.”

“Do you know any woman who would do this? By being buried as Puabi, she would lose her own name and face in the… afterlife, truth?”

“In Kur, it matters little,” Ezzi said.

Silence.

“My… assistant speaks the truth,” Asa said. “In Kur, the names matter little. As you well know, there is no hierarchy, no luxury, no reward or punishment.”

Ezzi thought the
en’s
golden eyes flashed for a moment, but perhaps it was his own excitement. “I know a woman—” Ezzi said.

The
en
swung on him. “Boy, if you do not keep silent, you will join the retinue of Puabi in the tomb!”

Ezzi trembled as those cold eyes swept over him. This was not the same man as before; perhaps a demon had taken possession of the
en.
Perhaps
he
should die.

“Do you know anyone who would do this willingly?” Kidu asked Asa.

“Uh, willingly, with no accolades? I, I must confess at this moment, no one comes to mind.”

Ezzi bit his lip; he wouldn’t waste his idea on the
en,
he would go directly to the
ensi.
She, after all, was the one with power. She made the decision. She was the one they were trying to kill.

“Then perhaps this plan is a little premature,” the
en
said, rising. “Come to me when you have a willing victim.” He strode from the room, barely giving them time to bow.

*      *     *

The Tablet Father belched and leaned back. “Your wife can do more with sheep—”

“Sheep!” Asa shouted. “Gods, how I tire of that word.”

“I’m sorry,” the Tablet Father said. “I didn’t mean to remind you. Your wife pines for those sheep yet?”

“The yellow spotted ones, kept at the gate.” Asa rubbed his temples. “She has approached the herders repeatedly, but they will tell her nothing except the female Chloe is the one who owns the sheep. Nothing about where to find her, or how much she might charge—”

“Chloe?” the Tablet Father said. He could imagine how the conversation went between Asa’s culinary genius of a wife and the sheep-dip-stained shepherd. First, Asa’s wife would look down her long, sharp Shemti nose and request to speak to the head sheepherder. It would take producing a seal before she would believe she was speaking to him.

Then she would demand the yellow sheep. The shepherd would tell her they were on loan to the commonwealth. She would demand he tell her the name and address of the owner, to notify him the sheep had been purchased—oh yes, the Tablet Father could see quite easily that Asa’s wife would learn nothing except the name.

“I believe,” he said, covering Asa’s hand, “I know who this Chloe female is.”

The stargazer, whose eyes were bloodshot and bleary from attempting to see into the heavens, looked hopeful. “Who is she? I’ll pay anything, I swear by Ninhursag I will.”

“Chloe is the female little brother in my Tablet House,” the Tablet Father said. “I was pressured by the
lugal
to take her but… “he pondered. Several of his Boys had come to him, complaining about her presence, threatening to change Tablet Houses. The Tablet Father dreaded the day their fathers came to him and made good the threats. Then there had been rumors of a tussle, but Kalam had handled that situation before it went anywhere. That Old Boy was a tribute to the House.

“A female human has been attending the Tablet House?” the stargazer said. “That could be… well, possibly, the reason for the evil omens.”

“You mean, instead of the
ensi
?”

“No, no,” the stargazer said. “The signs are clear enough for the
ensi’s
judgment by the gods, but… “Asa’s words came to a stop. His gaze was fixed on some distant point, and the Tablet Father had a sense Asa was weighing something of which the Father knew nothing about. “Does she have family who would protest? The sheep, I mean?”

The Tablet Father straightened his cloak. “She is a protégé of Ningal’s.”

“She’s that beautiful?”

The Tablet Father shrugged. “If you care for Khamite females, I guess.”

Asa looked interested. “Khamite?”

“She owns the sheep your wife will stop at nothing to get.” The Tablet Father spoke of the sheep, but he knew they were discussing something else. “Think of the silence.”

Asa looked away, his red-rimmed eyes thoughtful.

“
Ensi
Puabi will need attendants, will she not?”

The stargazer’s head jerked back at his lover’s words. “She… will.”

“I will add Chloe’s name to the council’s list,” the Tablet Father said. “I can tell several of my Old Boys to do the same.”

“Won’t Ningal—”

“He is a just man. Surely, he can see the relation. Floodwaters brought the girl, she’s sought to bring chaos to the commonwealth by her demands and ideas, it is right she should pass into Kur on the day of an eclipse.” The Tablet Father put his arm around Asa’s shoulders and spoke softly. “You are the stargazer, your words to the
lugal
are beyond truth.”

Asa reached for the Tablet Father’s hand and placed it on his body. They spoke no more.

She woke up with one thought: Cheftu is a big blond now.

Sean Connery was seated by her bed: Ningal. “How are you, Chloe?”

Chloe followed the hand that was holding hers, up a white arm to the painted face of a brown-haired woman. The woman smiled. Chloe smiled back.

“This is Ulu; she helped me while you were sick.”

“Thank you,” Chloe said through dry, cracked lips. Ulu handed her a drinking tube, and Chloe sucked down some sweet breakfast beer. She immediately felt light-headed. She turned to Ningal, then turned to Ulu. She lifted a hand to her head; it was lighter.

“He had to cut your hair,” Ulu said. “The fever.”

Her hair was chin- and ear-length. Short. Chopped. “I had a fever?” she asked.

Ningal nodded and proceeded to tell her she’d been in bed for the last four days. Mostly unconscious. “Do you remember what happened?”

Cheftu said he’d come see me that night. Did he? Does he know I was hurt? “Those boys,” she said carefully. “I fell—”

“You landed on a gardening fork.”

“No wonder it hurt.”
Please leave,
Chloe thought.
Let me be alone so I can figure out what to do about Cheftu. Spies everywhere, he’d said.
Puabi would recognize Chloe’s name. Simple: She’d use another name, and now with cut hair, she probably looked like someone else, too.

“Would you like some food?” Ningal asked. “More beer?”

“And don’t worry about your hair, child. I have a friend Guli, who is a master hairdresser.”

Ningal froze, his eyes on the woman.

“I’m sure the justice did a wonderful job, but it wouldn’t hurt to have Guli trim it up.”

Especially since I want to make a good impression on Cheftu.
Not that she doubted his love, or attraction, but when your husband is the high priest of fertility it helps to look one’s best. And short hair, in all of Chloe’s travels, had never been in vogue. -Either it was a sign of shame, of public humiliation, or illness.