First Queen of the Gryphons (Ishtar's Legacy Book 5)

by Lisa Blackwood

  Amata had heard these stories since childhood. “Ereshkigal was offended that her younger sister would venture into her realm and then attempt to dictate to her, so she struck Ishtar dead, trapping her within the underworld. Tammuz the Shepherd and God of the Harvest, went to Ereshkigal and pleaded with her to free his wife. As long as Ishtar was trapped no new life was being created, wombs turned barren, livestock dropped stillborn calves. Life would have ended with no way to renew it.”

  “Yes,” the priestess nodded. “And Tammuz offered to trade himself for Ishtar’s freedom. Seeing a new way to punish her younger sister and make her see the error of her ways, Ereshkigal agreed to take Tammuz in exchange for allowing Ishtar to return to the heavens, thus returning new life to the earth.

  The priestess glanced down at her hands. “What Ishtar did after she discovered the nature of the deal, she would later—not regret, she could never regret making the gryphons—but she would regret the state of mind she was in. She instilled the gryphons with some of her own rage. She’d been seeking to create something fierce and powerful and loyal. In that dark time, she planned to breed an army to conquer her sister’s kingdom since the other gods would not intervene. After all, as they saw it, balance had been restored by Tammuz’s sacrifice.”

  Amata’s eyes widened. “The gryphons are Ishtar’s army?”

  The priestess’s expression softened. “Yes and no. Ishtar soon became attached to her new creations and knew she couldn’t accept the number of casualties a war with her sister would cause.”

  “She couldn’t sacrifice her gryphon children to save her husband,” Amata said in sudden understanding.

  “Exactly so. While Ishtar had been busy creating her gryphons, Tammuz found another way for them to reunite. At least enough so their power could bless the fields during the Spring Rites.”

  Amata scanned the murals on the walls of the altar room. Her gaze halted when it settled on images depicting the Spring Rite where Ishtar and Tammuz came together for one night each year. “The Sacred Marriage.”

  “Yes. Performed by Tammuz’s High Priest and Ishtar’s High Priestess," Ereshti walked toward the wall painting and caressed a finger along the image of two figures making love high up in a temple. “Though that is enough to bless the crops, neither priest nor priestess would survive a true joining of the gods. For that, the gods knew they needed a host bred for such a task. Someone already blessed since birth to receive such a gift. Only then would the host survive.”

  The priestess looked her in the eyes.

  Amata swallowed hard and took an involuntary step back. “By host you mean me, don’t you?”

  “Yes, Amata. You were chosen before your birth for this destiny.”

  “I…”

  “Do not fear. Even headstrong Ishtar would not force that fate upon someone. It is a choice. One you can accept and receive great power. Or deny and return to your village and lead a simple life. The choice is yours.”

  Amata stared at the mural on the wall. The Sacred Marriage.

  To allow the gods to use her body to come together.

  That was a lot to ask, and yet it was only for one night a year. In return, she would serve a king and wield great power and respect as this Avenging Blade of the goddess. She could make the raiders pay for what they had done to her family.

  She could protect her village. Neighboring villages as well.

  One thought did give her pause. For the gods to come together, Tammuz would need a host. From what the priestess had said earlier that man would likely be Hillalum. Now Amata wanted to know if the gryphon would act as her husband for the rest of the year.

  She rather liked her freedom. Oh, she missed her father and brother fiercely and would surrender her freedom for their return in a heartbeat, but she couldn’t deny she also enjoyed her independence. She liked being free to control her life.

  A husband could change all that and not for the better.

  But Hillalum wasn’t human. She didn’t know how he’d act or what he’d expect of her. Amata glanced around the chamber, but the male still hadn’t made an appearance. She hadn’t seen him since he’d left her back at the camp.

  Well, if she couldn’t ask him directly what he expected, perhaps she could get some answers out of the priestess instead. All she had to do was redirect the conversation a little.

  “Ishtar intends for Hillalum to be Tammuz’s host, doesn’t she?”

  “Yes,” Ereshti stated. “Hillalum has already agreed.”

  “Contingent upon if I like Ishtar’s Avenging Blade well enough to take her as my mate for life,” a man said from just beyond Amata’s right shoulder.

  She spun on her heels to face the speaker and then grunted in surprise to see Hillalum standing almost toe to toe with her.

  “You’re not fooling anyone, Hillalum. You’re already quite taken with our little shepherdess.” The priestess laughed in delight. “Amata, you probably are unaware that a gryphon mates for life. And while Hillalum already admires you and has agreed to be Tammuz’s host, his gryphon nature does still need to be won over. And that will require a bit of courtship.”

  Amata felt herself blush as she took in the gryphon’s human appearance.

  This time he was pure elegance and opulence. Even the wealthiest merchants that sometimes stopped at her village as they traveled between the city-states didn’t wear so much gold and valuable stones or such beautiful, luxurious fabrics.

  Hillalum was naked from the waist up except for a collar of hammered gold and polished blue stones. Matching wide bracelets circled each wrist and at his waist was more gold and blue stones.

  A snowy white garment with a gold-fringed hem wrapped around his hips and hung to his calves. Sandals laced up almost to his knees. Reversing course, her eyes returned to a face framed by lustrous black hair done in plaits with gold beads woven in. He looked every bit the king Ereshti had named him.

  She was expected to court that?

  Amata had never felt as impoverished as she did at that moment. She was too low born to even clean his sandals.

  “Did I not say Hillalum was a king?” The priestess stated as if somehow aware of Amata’s thoughts. “Now he looks the part. For once. Don’t let his appearance fool you. When he first learned to take on human form, it was an uphill battle to get him into clothing.”

  Amata remained mute.

  Ereshti glanced sidelong at her and sighed. “But he is a fine specimen with or without clothing, is he not? You shouldn’t find courting him a chore.”

  Amata narrowed her eyes. She didn’t care for how the other woman was talking about him as if his appearance was more important than his personality. “He is a thinking and reasoning person and doesn’t deserve being called a specimen.”

  Ereshti’s sudden silence told of her surprise at being challenged.

  Hillalum chuckled, his warm gaze finding hers. “I think we shall get along well enough.”

  Amata maintained his glance, thinking as she did how she’d already come to like the gryphon. His human side might take a little longer to get to know, but she would adapt. “I am willing to become this Avenging Blade as long as you are also fine with what the gods have planned.”

  “I am willing to learn more about you, Amata of the Pastures.”

  Ereshti cleared her throat. “You both will have time to get to know each other on the journey you are about to undertake.”

  While Amata and Hillalum exchanged a look, the priestess took a few steps back toward the altar. Once there, she opened a cloth-lined box.

  Amata stepped forward and looked down, then glanced back up in confusion a moment later. The box was empty.

  “Raiders have touched us all in different ways. They stole a sacred dagger from this temple. Ishtar wants it back. The blade is ancient and powerful, and in the hands of the first King of the Gryphons, it will be used to make you the first Avenging Blade.”

  When the priestess paused, Amata glanced sidelong at Hillalum and met h
is gaze again.

  What do you think of this? She asked him silently.

  He gave a little shrug.

  Hmmm. So, this was the first time he’d heard about the stolen dagger.

  “You and Hillalum must track down the raiders and retrieve that dagger. Only then will Hillalum be able to use his royal blood to anoint your mark and make you Ishtar’s Blade in a blooding ceremony.”

  Amata raised a hand to halt the priestess again. “What will that mean, exactly?”

  “During the blooding ceremony, Ishtar will forge a lifelong link between you and Hillalum. She will also endow you with great strength, knowledge, and battle magic.”

  Hmmm. That last part sounded handy, she decided after a moment.

  “You agree to all this?” Amata asked the male standing next to her—a king, she reminded herself.

  He gave her a regal nod.

  “Well, in that case, let’s go find this dagger.”

  Chapter 9

  His future Blade had been impatient to start their quest. At least until the priestess had pointed out Amata would have to ride on his back. The raiders already had many days head start. Hillalum and his new partner would never catch up on foot.

  When the shepherdess had discovered she must learn to ride him while he flew through the skies, she’d gone so pale, he’d thought she might faint. But Amata was tougher than that and soon squared her shoulders and demanded he train her.

  That was how he and Amata came to stand in the ziggurat's shadow.

  Ereshti had given Amata a gift of riding clothes, or flight leathers as the priestess called them. The ‘leathers’ were comprised of a fur-lined vest that laced up the front with another linen garment underneath for comfort and added warmth. Her lower half was encased in leather that laced from her waist all the way down to her ankles along the outside seams.

  When he’d questioned Amata, she’d admitted that although the garments were strange, they were surprisingly comfortable and allowed her a wide range of movement.

  And, in theory, she’d be able to ride him without her normal robes getting fouled in his wings.

  One thing the priestess hadn’t mentioned was how much Hillalum would appreciate the way they clung to Amata’s curves.

  Presently, Hillalum was enjoying the view as Amata was bent forward, tying her sandal laces. He paced up behind the female and dragged in a deep breath of her scent.

  Even in human form, her scent had the same strange calming effect on his nerves. It was beneficial since he was feeling a touch nervous at carrying a rider for the first time.

  The priestess said this would be one of the duties expected of him in exchange for receiving the gift of a goddess’s Avenging Blade.

  Carrying a rider must be possible. Otherwise, the goddess wouldn’t have asked. Still, that didn’t mean he wasn’t nervous.

  Amata spun around suddenly. “Flight leathers! Flying! I can’t believe the priestess wants me to fly. I’ve never even ridden a horse.”

  “The goddess wouldn’t ask us to do something that would get us killed. The gods can’t take us for hosts if we’re dead,” he said for her benefit and his.

  “Good point, except that Ishtar has instructed us to face an unknown number of raiders and retrieve a holy dagger. The raiders aren’t just going to hand it over because we asked. We must fight for it.”

  “I do not fear battle. If this is the path the gods have selected for us, I will do all I can to keep you safe and have faith we shall survive to accomplish the other tasks the gods have set before us.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m planning on taking out a lot of raiders before I go down.” Amata gave him a friendly cuff on the shoulder. “And I’ll make sure none of those thieving bastards get a chance to clip your wings. According to the priestess, it’s my responsibility to protect the royal line no matter what. That would be you.”

  “I don’t think she meant for you to take up the full responsibility until after the goddess gifts you your full powers in the blooding ceremony.” Hillalum had no plans to allow his chosen female to sacrifice herself for him.

  Amata shrugged. “Never too soon to start.”

  Grunting in disagreement, he only now realized Amata didn’t understand how deep a gryphon’s protective instincts ran. He planned to show her in the coming days. First, he had to learn to carry a rider, and she needed to learn to ride.

  He bent and unlaced his sandals. Once he had them off, he loosened his belt and cast it and his other garments aside.

  “I see what the priestess meant about clothing and shapeshifters,” Amata drawled as she picked up his discarded garment.

  He shrugged. “They’d be shredded during the shift if I didn’t remove them.”

  “So… just toss them on the ground?”

  “Yes.” He grinned at her and then summoned his magic. Golden light surrounded his body for three beats of his heart and then his gryphon nature surged to the forefront. He dropped to all fours as his mighty wings sprang from his back.

  Amata lowered the hand she’d used to shield her eyes from the intense glare of his magic. “That’s the second time I’ve seen you shift, and I still can’t quite believe what my eyes are telling me.”

  He paced up to her and rubbed his face against her abdomen and then bumped his head under her hand looking for a scratch. Once she indulged him, he had to fight back purrs to talk.

  “You have handled it well. Many a human and even some gryphons would run in fear.”

  “By the way, why didn’t you say something that first night on the mountain?”

  He shrugged. “I didn’t want to overstress you.”

  Amata snorted. “Overstress? Have you gotten a look at your gryphon self? I don’t think I could have gotten any more stressed in those first moments.”

  He offered an apologetic tilt of his tufted ears. “I thought I had a better chance of gaining your trust if you thought I was just an animal.”

  Looking thoughtful, Amata eventually nodded. “Fine. I’ll accept that.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t run away upon seeing my gryphon form.”

  “I didn’t have an option to run. You were blocking the path down the mountain that night.” Amata laughed, then softened what might have been an insult by adding, “Now that I know you a little, I think you will lead me on an entirely different path—one filled with interesting adventures. I hope you don’t grow bored with a shepherdess and run away yourself.”

  “I’ve been studying you for a long while. I find your fierceness and bravery are far from boring.” He tilted his head and clacked his beak once in humor.

  A softening of her expression told him his words affected her. Her eyes sought his and seemed to look all the way to his soul, but he didn’t feel vulnerable. He felt powerful. “Should we start our first adventure in gryphon-human flight?”

  Amata grunted. “I suppose. No point putting it off. I just hope my fierce reputation remains intact for the duration of this flight.”

  He lowered one wing enough she could step over it and lean against his side.

  Amata eyed his back. “A little help? Your back is almost taller than I am!”

  Snorting with good humor, he knelt on the ground. It put his back at a more manageable height for her to mount.

  She grabbed fistfuls of his fur, and after only a slight pause, she leaped upon his back.

  The sudden weight of another being clinging to him sent his instincts into a spin. But this wasn’t a battle for dominance. Another male wasn’t trying to wrestle him into submission to take his territory or kill him. The slight weight was the enticing female who was his future Blade and mate. One day she would be more precious than his own life.

  He held still while she grew accustomed to the feel of his body shifting as he breathed. Once he felt her muscles relax, he circled at a walk. When she seemed fine with that, he broke into a trot, and then a run.

  Amata hollered, but it was a sound of delight, not fear.

  “Hold
tight,” he warned as he purposely leaped over a boulder in his path.

  “No, wait!” she shouted. “I need a better hold!”

  He shortened his stride to give her time to loop her arms around his neck. Her fingers dug into his fur and feathers. Once he was sure she had a secure seat, he lengthened his stride again and leaped over another rocky patch.

  Amata continued to shout with joy.

  He circled the base of the ziggurat three times and then she called out, “Fly! Take to the air.”

  He did, leaping off a gentle slope. She whooped in delight as he swooped down in a glide, flying just above the ground. He wouldn’t risk her falling off and getting hurt.

  But he need not have worried. She clung to him with her strong arms and legs, and she came to no harm. Keeping the first flight short for both of their sakes, he came in for a landing at the base of the ziggurat’s central ramp.

  Amata dismounted and ran a hand along his flank in silent thanks and then she walked around to his front and wrapped him in a fierce embrace.

  “Thank you for that gift,” she gave him another squeeze, and his gryphon nature delighted in her easy affection.

  Later, when he was less tongue-tied, he’d thank Ishtar for the gift that was his Blade.

  Chapter 10

  Hillalum soared over a mountain peak and swooped down into the next valley, all the time scanning for one of the wild rams that grazed these parts. Though it wouldn’t be him making the kill this time. Amata was a warm and now familiar weight on his back. The kill would be hers.

  His Blade had advanced much over the last three days of flight lessons with him, the continued contact even spawning a secondary benefit, allowing their two powers to feed off each other. By the end of the third day of training, they'd returned to the temple much stronger than when they'd left in the predawn darkness.