by Brian Godawa
Gilgamesh began to dream. And in his dream he saw again the wild bull of the wilderness whose bellowing snort split the earth beneath his feet as a cloud of dust obscured the sky. And then a man came before him and gave Gilgamesh a drink of water from his water skin, and somehow Gilgamesh knew that the man was his father, holy Lugalbanda. And the bull suddenly spoke with a roaring voice, “Gilgamesh, awake! So says Shamash. Gilgamesh awake!”
Gilgamesh came to with Enkidu shaking him and yelling, “Gilgamesh, awake!”
Gilgamesh heard the sounds of rumbling in the forest, the sounds of giant feet stampeding their way, getting closer. A massive roar of monstrous rage penetrated the thicket a hundred feet away and wakened the other warriors. Humbaba the Terrible had found them.
Chapter 19
Dumuzi had awakened and was consulting with Ninsun over a temple redecorating project when Inanna arrived at the palace demanding a presence with the king. Ninsun and Dumuzi hastened to the throne room. They were stunned by the entity standing before them. Despite her outrageous outfit, they could tell this was not someone to trifle with. She was queenly and held herself as one who owned the world and was returning to claim it.
Inanna was unimpressed with Dumuzi’s appearance. She had expected someone more — grandiose. This small flesh pot seemed nothing more than a shepherd. And the female smelled of pretention.
“Are you the king and queen?” asked Inanna.
“No,” said Dumuzi. “But I am Dumuzi, the king’s stead until he returns. And who are you, may I ask?”
This man was definitely not royalty, thought Inanna. He talks like an outdoorsman. Though he is physically strong and well developed. A tasty sexual conquest for later.
“The wench?” asked Inanna.
Ninsun was taken aback by the brazen effrontery. She barked back, “How dare you insult the goddess Ninsun! Explain your identity immediately or you will pay for your insolence!” Ninsun snapped her fingers and six soldiers stepped out from the shadows ready for orders.
Inanna smirked. She ignored the soldiers and walked right up to Ninsun next to the throne. Ninsun started to tremble. But she did not have the guts to call on her guards. Somehow, she knew it would be futile. This being had hypnotic power over her.
Inanna sniffed her. “You are a wild cow, but you are no goddess.”
She stepped over to Dumuzi and looked him up and down. She could smell his fear. “Were you in charge of the clay pits?”
“Yes,” said Dumuzi. He was trying to maintain a semblance of strength and confidence, but this shining one before him had such an aura of power that he could barely hold his bladder from his fear.
“I like you. And I have much to thank you for. I am the goddess Inanna.”
Dumuzi felt his knees go weak. Ninsun almost fainted. He caught her and helped her to sit on the throne next to his.
Inanna continued, “And you will never believe what happened to me.” She started to pace around with the gestures of an orator as she spun a tale to cover her own pathetic subjugation at the hands of Elohim’s archangels and ultimately in the jaws of Rahab the sea dragon of chaos.
She titled her story, Inanna’s Descent into the Underworld. “Once upon a time, in those days, in those far-off days, in those nights, in those distant nights, I planned to visit my sister Ereshkigal, goddess of the Underworld, known as Sheol, the Land of No Return. In truth, I had ulterior motives, which you really should not know, so I will spare you the details and with them, your lives. But be that as it may, it was an important journey, so I dressed to the nines. As you can see, I am quite adept at fashion. I do not go anywhere important without dressing up.” Inanna turned like a model on a runway.
She continued, “Unfortunately, my sister had been conspiring against me, the little strumpet. It is true. And her abode is guarded by seven entrances, called the Seven Gates of Ganzir. Sheol is not called ‘the Land of No Return’ for no reason. Anyway, as I journeyed through each gate, the Gatekeeper, who shall remain nameless, required me to take off a garment at each gate. At the first of the seven gates, he took my tiara, and said, ‘thus are the rules of the mistress of the netherworld.’”
Inanna paused. She could see she was losing them, so she cut to the chase. “Well, I will not bore you with the details of each and every gate. Suffice it to say that the Gatekeeper eventually removed all my garments and I was naked, totally naked.”
Now, Dumuzi perked up.
She continued, “I know that I have a spectacularly stunning figure, but it also made me vulnerable. So my sister sent sixty diseases at me until I succumbed to death and was hanged on a stake. Fortunately, before I descended into the netherworld, I had left word with my servant Ninshubar to make sure the assembly of the gods would know of my absence should I fail to return within three days and nights.”
Dumuzi listened closely. He knew Ninshubar. He was the foreman of the clay pits. He wondered why Inanna was making this stuff up.
Inanna spoke quickly to wrap it up, “And Ninshubar made the rounds of the gods until one of them empowered him and he freed me from the underworld, blah, blah, blah.”
Inanna looked with piercing eyes at Dumuzi and Ninsun. “The point of the story is, I went down into Sheol as the goddess Inanna. I am reborn, the goddess Ishtar. You shall call me Ishtar, Queen of Heaven.”
She walked back up to the speechless Dumuzi, and spoke with a seductive firm whisper, “And you, my dear Dumuzi, shall be my lover. I shall call you ‘Tammuz.’”
Dumuzi’s throat went dry. The blood drained from his face. He had been thinking how masculine this goddess was beneath her feminine façade. Goddess of war seemed more applicable than goddess of sex. Still, he wondered what terrors she imposed upon the victims of her appetite.
And now his entire world crashed down around him when he realized that he was her next victim.
Ishtar held her hand out to him. She said to Ninsun, “I will want to spend some time with you, Lady Wild Cow, to be brought up to speed on the machinations of religion in this new era. And for an explanation of your play at deity. But first, I have some hungers to satiate that have been pent up for generations.” She looked at Dumuzi and grabbed his hand.
He had no other choice. He thought of killing himself, but he would not have that privilege at the moment. It was too late for that. He prayed for suffering endurance.
Chapter 20
The giant Humbaba was twenty feet tall, more than twice the size of Gilgamesh. He came charging at them from the depth of the forest like a raging bull. Gilgamesh had never seen such a giant. He did not know it was possible. So this was a Rapha, so this was one of the Rephaim, special bloodline of leaders bred from gods and men.
Enkidu was right. He was a terror that any invader would not want to face. His roar was the sound of a rushing flood of waters and a mountain avalanche of boulders. His face was monstrously ugly, like a pile of coiled intestines with a bulbous nose and ugly eyes. He had two large tusks jutting out of his jaws like a wild boar. Gilgamesh also noticed that Humbaba’s hands were huge and contained six fingers each. They could easily crush a warrior, even the size of a giant like himself. It struck Gilgamesh that all of Enkidu’s exaggeration was more true than it was fact. And for the first time in his adult life, Gilgamesh was full of fear.
But there was no time for self-reflective ponderings of mythical confabulation. Humbaba the Terrible roared again and the entire team of warriors cowered behind their shields and behind trees.
A bright flash of lightning and a loud crack of thunder split the sky above them. While they had slept under the temporary aura spell, a storm front had moved in. Black billowy clouds boiled overhead and the wind began to whip around them.
Gilgamesh said to Enkidu, “This is not looking good for us.”
Enkidu gave Gilgamesh a condescending look and repeated back to him his own words with relish, “Strengthen your trembling arms, my king. You speak like a spineless weakling. Gird your balls and let us face our de
stiny.”
It was like a slap in the face for Gilgamesh waking him from another spell or enchantment. He shook it off and the two of them stepped out in the open, Enkidu with battle axe and Gilgamesh with the bow of Anshan. The fifty warriors circled behind them, ready for battle.
Enkidu shouted in a hearty voice, “Ho, hurrah!”
Humbaba stopped to get a better look at the vile little insects that had trespassed in his forest, so he knew who he was killing and eating tonight. Unfortunately, warriors, because of their muscular features were always a little grizzly and not as juicy of taste.
But when Humbaba saw Enkidu, he stopped with curiosity as if he recognized him, but could not place him. And then his eyes widened with realization and he thundered, “Enkidu?”
Gilgamesh shot Enkidu a surprised look. “He knows you?”
Enkidu had a lot of explaining to do. He had told Gilgamesh that he knew of Humbaba, but he did not say that Humbaba knew him.
“It is a long story. I will tell you if we survive,” said Enkidu.
Gilgamesh rolled his eyes and looked back at Humbaba.
“I am Gilgamesh, lord and king of Uruk,” he shouted with as much confidence as he could muster.
Humbaba ignored Gilgamesh as if he were an inconsequential servant. “Enkidu, son of a serpent with no father, spawn of a reptile with no mother’s milk. Why do you bring these cedar smiters into my paradise?”
Enkidu whispered to Gilgamesh, “He cannot hurt the trees. It is his weakness.”
Gilgamesh hissed back, “You tell me this now? It might have helped us sooner if you would have…”
“An idiot gives a moron counsel?” Humbaba interrupted them. “Now I see that I should have eaten you then and filled my belly with your flesh, Enkidu.”
Humbaba was beside the river bank. He reached down and picked up a huge boulder and threw it at Gilgamesh and Enkidu. They were able to jump out of the way, unlike several of the warriors behind them, who were crushed by the huge rolling stone.
Gilgamesh shouted to his men, “Hide behind trees! He cannot harm the trees!”
Instantly, his men reacted, finding trees to act as shields against the force of this terrifying gargantuan.
Humbaba looked up into the storm winds that lashed around them. A lightning bolt crackled down to earth and hit one of the tallest cedars. It cut the tree in two, and drew everyone’s attention, except that of Enkidu. He was watching Humbaba the entire time and he saw him flinch and cringe in a way that he had never before.
Humbaba yelled with anger, “By the gods, what sorcerer has caused these tempest of winds?”
Because he was not as low to the ground as the warriors, it was harder for Humbaba to keep his balance in the furious gale.
Gilgamesh figured that the storm must have been sent from his patron deity Shamash to help Gilgamesh with his task of subduing the Rapha.
Enkidu knew that Humbaba not only guarded the forest, but he was the watchman for the abode of the gods. So whoever was whipping up this storm was not Shamash, and was certainly not any of the pantheon over whose cosmic mountain he was standing sentinel.
He had seen the mighty Rapha cringe.
It began to rain.
Humbaba gave a gurgling roar and simply turned around and ran deeper into the thicket of the forest.
Gilgamesh shouted, “Warriors!”
He was about to command them to run after their fleeing foe. But Enkidu stopped him, “My lord. We cannot hope to keep up with his swift-footedness. And in this storm even less. The woodland is his soul.”
Gilgamesh looked askance at Enkidu. “Is this fear rising up again, my Right Hand? We have him on the run.”
“No,” said Enkidu. “He is luring us into a trap, where he has the advantage.”
“What do you mean?” asked Gilgamesh. He had to shout to be heard in the winds.
“Humbaba is not the brute ogre he appears,” Enkidu yelled back. “He is a brilliant strategist, and the odds are against him at this moment. The storm winds keep him off balance, since he is not low to the ground as we are. The warriors were using as protective shields the trees that Humbaba will not hurt…”
Gilgamesh finished the lesson, “And the rain obscures the clarity of vision necessary to vanquish forty to one combat.”
“Rushing headlong after him now invites disaster,” said Enkidu.
Gilgamesh smiled, “We can track him on our own terms.”
He turned to the warriors and called out, “Yahatti!”
Yahatti was the fifth of the seven warriors from one mother. He had the serpentine tongue that could track anyone and anything with a simple flicking taste of air, earth or object.
Yahatti stepped out of the crowd of warriors. Enkidu remembered their special talents and asked Yahatti, “Was the lightning called down by one of your brothers?”
“No,” said Yahatti. “That was Ikuppi. He was killed by the boulder.” He paused a moment painfully, then finished, “Along with the rest of my brothers.”
It was a major loss for Gilgamesh. It could turn the tide of his pursuit. Of the ten men who were killed by the flung boulder, six of them were the warriors with special skills. The one who had paws of a lion and talons of an eagle, the cobra mouth, the wielder of a special sword, the one who spit fire, and the one with hands of crushing power were now all dead.
But Enkidu was not listening. He was still thinking about the look of fear he had seen in the Rapha. He looked up into the black sky, blinking in the falling rain and windstorm. Perhaps there were other gods out there of which they were not aware. Unknown gods with storm power that would frighten the most vicious creature Enkidu had ever met.
Gilgamesh shouted to his band of warriors, “We ride out the storm and track Humbaba in the morning!”
Chapter 21
Ishtar led Dumuzi on a leash out to the clay pits. It was degrading enough that he could barely walk from the abuse that Ishtar had subjected him to, but to be led like a dog with a collar and leash was a crown of debasement. Dumuzi struggled to keep from falling, wincing in pain and soreness with every step. His intestines had been punctured by Ishtar’s perverse pleasures. He was bleeding internally and would probably die from the foreign objects that Ishtar had shoved into him. He felt like he was being led to his grave. He hoped he was being led to his grave.
A large group of about one hundred workers followed them to the pit with torchlight. Ishtar had a special task to accomplish this evening.
They got down to the bottom of the pit and Ishtar instructed a couple of dowsers to search for water with their dowsing sticks. When one of them announced a possible location, Ishtar knelt on the spot with cheek and palms feeling the earth for a sign of confirmation.
She stood back up and commanded the workers begin immediately to dig a well. They were to work all night if necessary until they had broken through. They were frightened of the danger she was placing them in, but she demanded that they work at double strength and double time to find the water table. So they dug.
Ishtar and Dumuzi came back up to the top of the pit and watched them. Ishtar sat on the portable throne from her temple and had Dumuzi kneel beside her. She looked down on him and patted his head like a pet. He was gratifying to her. He was handsome and well built. A rugged strong man could endure more pain, which pleased Ishtar, because she needed more and more violent and depraved acts to satisfy her hunger.
As they watched the workers dig the well, Queen Ninsun arrived with her retinue of servants.
“Ah, Lady Wild Cow,” said Ishtar. “I have been dying to talk to you of the pantheon.”
Perspiration saturated Ninsun’s robes, far more than usual for the heat of the day.
Ishtar continued, “Tell me of Mount Hermon and of the assembly of the gods. Who is left? Who escaped the Flood? Where is Semjaza? Who is in charge?”
Ninsun had no idea what Ishtar was talking about. She had been smoked out by a real god. She had wondered if this would happen one day
, and that day was here, and she did not know what to do.
“Are you not a goddess? Do you know anything of the pantheon?”
This goddess was impatient and wrathful. Ninsun wondered if she would live to see the morning.
Ishtar exploded with wrath, “I ASKED YOU A QUESTION, COW!”
“N-no,” stuttered Ninsun.
“N-no, what?” mocked Ishtar. “No, you are not a goddess or no, you do not know of the pantheon?”
“Both,” said Ninsun.
“Ah, well, we shall have to drag out of you just what little political intrigues you are scheming,” said Ishtar.
They were interrupted by a call from down in the clay pit. They had struck water.
Ishtar had a servant raise the sign flag to command them to the next phase.
Down in the pit, the foreman saw the sign and looked darkly at his diggers. “Hoist the drill,” he said.
The workers looked at him with shock. One of them spoke up for the rest of them, “But sir, if we do that…”
The foreman interrupted him with an angry command, “Do not question the goddess! Hoist the drill, NOW!”
The workers looked at one another and obeyed. What else could they do? They knew no other life. They had been bred to obey royalty and deity without question. But they knew that what the goddess had ordered them to do was suicide.
They wheeled over a large mechanical structure made of metal and timber. It had weights and pulleys and looked like an inverted battering ram. By pulling the ropes, workers slammed stone weights into a point sharpened log that would plunge into the earth, penetrating as deep as they could hammer it.
Back up on the edge of the pit, Ishtar grinned diabolically after hearing Ninsun’s explanation. This would indeed be interesting. She had heard about the giant king, about his strength and glory. But this new information was most interesting indeed.
“I cannot wait to meet this Naphil king Gilgamesh,” said Ishtar. “He and I have much to plot.”
