Ishtah - The Prostitute's Daughter

by Ella Hansing

like there were in the wealthier sectors of Arrapha. In the end this worked in my favor. While others feared the night and what it perhaps hid – all the wives and workmen so afraid of the unknown, I had already seen all the different things darkness could hide.

  A moment longer and I soon realized I’d forgotten our water jar, which by now was nearly empty. I knew my mother would be bothered to not have water to wash her face in the morning. Though late already, I used every ounce of energy I felt I had to force myself to stop and turn back the way I’d come. Hoping to avoid my mother delaying me further, I reentered our home as quietly as I could. Collecting our jar I then burst outside once more – now worried Hesba and Phaena might have departed without me, having been forced to wait too long. I knew without a doubt that rising up those numerous steps and entering the sacred temple would be too difficult for me to manage alone. If I’d missed Hesba and Phaena I would have to wait and go another time with them.

  Only once had I approached the central temple, in its stateliness and cold splendor, all alone. I had been a child – maybe nine or ten. I couldn’t remember what brought me so far from our street, and at such a young age – only the feeling that had drawn me that direction. I remembered wanting to see something different – I wanted to see what purity looked like, to experience sacredness and rest my eyes in a setting unlike what I was accustomed to. I knew the central temple only from the outside, with its immense stone walls and towering columns – illuminated each evening by the setting sun, as if on fire. When I finally made my way up the steps and past the open doors, I saw the inside was equally as radiant. The air was much cooler, the stonework much darker, and the ceiling four stories above my child’s head.

  No one had been there to look at me disapprovingly. The temple had been empty because of the time of day. At the far end of the sanctuary there was only an elderly priest lying face down at the foot of a shrine – curls of smoke rising from two bowls of incense at either side of him. Only in resting my eyes on the black, stone face of Ashur was I filled with an abrupt, palpable sense of my trespass. I was standing in his house – uninvited. Though I knew of Ashur well, I felt at once he was unfamiliar with me. I was a stranger in that place. Who did I even know that he was acquainted with? – No one. The profile of his face appeared at once unwelcoming to me – his arm extended fully with palm facing upright in exacting command, leaving no room for leniency, even in the furthest, most dimly lit corners of his temple. Even at such a young age, I felt I should only enter his abode with an invitation – and even then, I should keep my thoughts and prayers modest. I left the temple as quickly as I’d come – almost tripping down the steps outside in my haste, the sunlight blinding me as I searched for a small alley to hide in. This was just around the time I started becoming more conscientious of my surroundings – checking who might have seen me, or who might be nearby. With each passing day I became increasingly aware of myself, and how I should relate to others.

  That was the last time I’d ever gone to the central temple on my own. Instead, I went appreciatively whenever Hesba invited me to join her – walking neatly behind her as we entered, as if she were some sort of parchment invite needed to gain admittance. Any prayers I murmured in the temple were always short and hesitant, my preference quickly becoming to pray instead outside in the open – alone, my requests lifted up to a starry black sky without a face.

  In turning onto a wider street a gentle breeze momentarily cooled my face, lessening my anxieties somewhat. Before long I fell into a jog – next a sprint, careful not to drop our heavy clay jar, or slap the pavement too loudly with my sandals. By running I was able to make it to Hesba’s house all the way near the east gate fairly quick. Thankful there were few people out after sunset, I felt confident in running like a madwoman up the streets – laughing almost like a child at thinking what I must look like. When standing in front of their house at last, I took pause briefly to catch my breath and straighten my scarf, tucking my hair neatly behind my ears – though I knew no matter what I did I would still look disheveled.

  Since their home faced the open street too broadly for my liking, I had never entered it by way of the front – instead always opting to enter through a small entrance at the side of the house meant for the workers. This is where I found Hesba and Phaena waiting for me, just outside the servants’ entry – quietly conversing. My walk gave me away almost at once, at which Hesba started in fright.

  “Ishtah, you scare me like that!” she scolded, with Phaena snickering. In an instant her arms were around me – my eyes closing and body caving into the folds of her tunic so that I nearly dropped my water jar.

  “Well you certainly kept us waiting long enough,” continued Hesba, releasing me so that I could breathe. “A few moments longer and we would have left without you. Even Ashur must get his sleep at some point or other, so we shouldn’t keep him waiting. Let’s head out the short way to the temple and take the route through the market on the way back so we can all collect water.” Here she smiled at me a little – adding, “Aeros will meet us when he’s finished eating his supper. He heard you would be accompanying us to the temple and insisted on helping carry the water.”

  Stooping, I lifted her water jar to my hip – grateful for a reason to lower my head as I sensed my face begin to redden. I wasn’t surprised to hear Aeros would be making an appearance later that night – though my body reacted otherwise – with shock, against my wishes. I never knew what to say to Aeros anymore. We spoke relatively little in comparison to Phaena and I, and I wasn’t sure what to make of Hesba’s smiles and hints whenever she spoke to me of him. I supposed I knew she was only teasing, but I wished she wouldn’t. If I really thought about what she was suggesting, I didn’t find it humorous or entertaining. It was a foolish thing, especially when I considered Hesba to be so wise.

  Much to my relief, we moved off without further delay – headed toward higher streets. I was always thankful to be walking with the two of them, even though Phaena had already returned to being distant and cold – pacing her steps just ahead of mine as we entered the central market. Though less crowded after dusk, the marketplace was far from dead. Now was the time for the field-laborers and herdsmen to come out after the evening meal in search of drink and entertainment, the time for housewives fallen behind with their chores to venture out in the safety of twos to fill their water jars, or else sit and gossip with one another on their doorsteps.

  More faithful during the day in her chores than most – and plenty more religious, Hesba often spent her evenings venturing to the central temple, which though a ways away from where either of us lived was well worth the trip, as it was the most extravagant of all temples in Arrapha. Sometimes, if she had extra money to do so, she would even purchase a small dove in the market on our way as an offering to Ashur – which the priests always welcomed.

  Tonight there would be no sacrifice, though. It had been a while since I’d last seen her bring anything to the temple. In silence I wondered whether or not her family might be more burdened by the drought than she let on. If they were I knew Hesba would never say as much to me. I had never known her to look distressed. She was calm at all times, gracious and composed in every action and word. Lowering my head, I pulled my scarf tight beneath my chin – remembering the wheat cake she had stuffed in my hand the other day as we’d stood in line for the well. Guilt crowded my mind in realizing it might have been more of a sacrifice for her than I at first imagined. Chest swelling with regret, I gripped both water jars tight as if to alleviate the discomfort.

  When we at last reached the large square in front of the central temple, I suddenly became aware of my surrounding again – remembering to be leery of anyone standing around who might be watching the comings and goings of the temple. It was never ideal for me to cross wide open spaces. Though Hesba and Phaena had no need to be wary, I had been taught since young to always watch for other prostitutes; there were many who rivaled my mother. I did know of a corner near the central
temple where several of them liked to stand – though not too close for fear of angering the high priests, who wouldn’t hesitate to penalize their proximity by way of the temple guards. Despite the risks, there was too great a degree of wealth frequenting the steps of the central temple for these women to relinquish; it was a good place to both see and be seen, to cast a line in the waters and see what could be caught.

  “Can you imagine what this place will look like when set ablaze for the festival?” chimed Phaena, her eyes lighting as we walked into the open square. “It will be so crowded we won’t even be able to walk through. Think of all the flower garlands and dancing. I wonder if the priests will make the sacrifices out in front of the temple this year, since there will be so many more attending with the drought and all. There won’t be near enough room inside to perform the rituals.”

  Distracted, I hastened my walk – stepping on the tail of Hesba’s skirt and almost causing her to trip.

  “Steady, Ishtah,” she spoke, pointing to the lowest temple step. “You two set the jars here and we can collect them on