Ishtar’s Blade
By Lisa Blackwood
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Afterword
About the Author
Ishtar’s Blade © 2016 by Lisa Smeaton
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, and characters are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actually persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any print or electronic form without author’s permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
Edited by
Cover Art Designed by Ravven
Back Cover
Warrior.
King’s confidant.
Avenging blade of the Goddess Ishtar.
Iltani asked to be none of these things. Yet fate does not ask permission when she weaves souls upon destiny’s loom.
On the day of Iltani’s birth, an assassin tried and nearly succeeded in ending the line of the gryphon kings. Out of that bloodshed, an unbreakable bond was forged between child-king and goddess-chosen infant, and from that pivotal moment forward, Iltani was never farther from King Ditanu than his shadow. Not until her training to become Ishtar’s Blade required her to leave.
After four brutal years of training, Iltani now returns to court as Ishtar’s Blade and takes up her role of king’s shadow—a dangerous position in a court where the threat of another assassination is but a blade’s width away. But for the chance to stand at the side of her beloved king, she will endure the dangers of court intrigues, assassins, and political maneuverings.
Chapter One
Dawn’s light caressed the mountain peaks of Nineveh and shimmered upon the reef-strewn waters surrounding New Sumer’s greatest city-state. The ocean, still restless from the previous night’s storm, tossed white capped waves toward the vast island’s rocky cliffs and rocked the small skiff Iltani rode in.
The snap of the sail, the sound of the waves slapping the small boat’s sides, and the stomach-dropping dips and rises of the bow all added to the excitement churning in her blood.
Iltani hardly dared to believe.
She was returning home for the first time after four long years of brutal, continuous training.
In truth, she’d dedicated her entire life to her training, but four years ago, she’d taken the final steps down that path, when Burrukan, the Leader of the King’s Shadows had taken her on as his apprentice.
Now, almost four years to the day, Burrukan was returning her to her childhood home, Nineveh, the ruling seat of the Gryphon King. She’d left her island home a girl of seventeen and was returning a woman of twenty-one summers. While she couldn’t guess if she could be considered wiser, she was greatly changed.
Four years was a long time. She sincerely hoped King Ditanu would be pleased with her progress and be happy to have her back at his side.
And if he isn’t? The small doubtful voice of her consciousness questioned.
Her mind shied away from that thought.
She supposed she’d find out later this day.
Not wanting to think more on the dark possibility of an indifferent king or worse, she turned from the sight of her childhood home and glanced back at her mentor where he worked the boat’s rudder, guiding them safely past a reef. The wind shifted and two of the ropes tangled. With a grumble about needing to replace the fraying rope, Burrukan tied the rudder to maintain course. That done, he stepped over the bench Iltani sat on and started to work on the sail’s tangled rigging.
She knew better than to offer her help. No one touched Burrukan’s boat. He’d designed and built the swift little boat during the first year of her training, saying he wanted to shave time off the twice daily trips between the training island and Nineveh.
When she’d asked why he didn’t just shift into gryphon form and fly, he’d rolled his eyes and said if he did that day after day, he’d be in no condition to beat her into shape and make a proper warrior out of her. Then he’d told her one of a Shadow’s greatest strengths was their ability to remain silent, saying people with loose lips gave far too much away to their enemies. She’d frowned and he’d given her a fatherly pat on one shoulder and told her to go run a circuit around the island. She’d quickly learned not to question him about unimportant things.
It was probably for the best she didn’t possess a set of wings. If she had, she’d have been tempted to fly back to Nineveh in the early days of her training when her yearning to hear the sound of Ditanu’s voice, catch a whiff of his sandalwood and spice scent, or see the hint of a smile hovering on his lips grew too much to bear.
Sighing, she pushed away her internal musings and watched Burrukan work. That the ropes were in less than perfect condition could only mean the king had kept him busier than usual of late.
Iltani worried at her bottom lip as she stared at Burrukan’s back. Today, the questions circling her mind were far from unimportant or frivolous. Dare she ask him what to expect? All she knew was that her mentor planned to present her to King Ditanu this day so he could perform the Blooding Ceremony, thereby honoring the ancient pact between gryphons and humans.
To most citizens of New Sumer, Iltani was just a human woman training to become one of the King’s Shadows—a group of elite gryphon and human warriors who served and protected the king from all danger. She would have been content with that lot in life, but the goddess Ishtar had chosen Iltani for another role, that of her avenging blade. Only a select few people knew Iltani was Ishtar’s Blade, the embodiment of the eight-thousand-year-old pact between the Queen of the Night and the line of the gryphon kings.
Iltani had spent the last four years preparing to become a living weapon forged by the Goddess Ishtar herself. One of flesh and blood and magic, but a weapon none the less.
At least, that’s what Burrukan and High Priestess Kammani had drilled into Iltani from a young age.
Years upon frustrating years, Iltani had waited for Ishtar to rouse her magic. Even with Burrukan’s reassuring words, she would have given up hope long ago had it not been for the deep indigo and gold birthmark marching down her spine, growing each year, and declaring that she was Ishtar’s chosen weapon.
Her apathetic magic had finally roused for the first time this morning. Long before dawn, she’d jerked awake from a dream to find the mark throbbing with heat. After a good deal of twisting and turning, she’d gotten a look at it in her small handheld mirror. The mark had glittered with a soft gold and indigo power.
She’d bolted from her bed, pulled on yesterday’s clothing, and ran to the dock where she normally met Burrukan each morning. Her mentor had already been waiting with the sk
iff, his expression as calm and devoid of worry as always.
It hadn’t come as a surprise. Burrukan, like any good gryphon parent, missed nothing, always knowing what his brood was thinking, feeling, and doing. Unfortunately, Iltani was the only ‘cub’ in his brood and as such she had all his attention. There had been a time or two in her youth when she’d very much wanted less of his eagle-eyed attention, but this morning she’d been more than happy for her adopted father’s all-knowingness.
Otherwise, she would have paced a hole in the dock if she’d had to wait the two hours for his usual arrival.
If she was truthful with herself, it wasn’t becoming Ishtar’s Blade which scared her, it was meeting Ditanu again. Her four years on the training island had changed her. How much had those same four years changed the young king? He’d been new to his throne when she’d left. Would there be anything left of their unorthodox friendship?
Oh, great goddess Ishtar, I know it is impossible, but please let there still be room in his heart for me.
The thought had barely formed and Iltani scowled at her own feeble willed yearning.
Oh, damn. Just stop thinking about him like that, she scolded herself.
It was easy enough to say, but, really, how could she stop thinking about the person who owned her heart?
Once, she and Ditanu had been the closest of companions, running wild as children. One never to be found without the other until that fateful morning after Ditanu’s coronation, when she was sent from his side for the first time in seventeen years to finish her training.
The agony of the separation still burned deep in her soul, but she’d grown used to the ache over time until she could almost tolerate it.
Until now, with Nineveh within her line of sight again. The old ache had awoken fully born and Iltani couldn’t pretend she’d mastered her unruly emotions during the four years of her training. Her sense of duty hadn’t diminished, only grown—as had the strong emotional need which linked them. It never weakened or wavered in the intervening years since she’d last laid eyes on him. Even when that horrible letter arrived, telling her he’d taken a mate, her stubborn heart wouldn’t relinquish its devotion to him.
It went beyond all common sense, logic, or reason. More than once Iltani had wondered if she had been created solely to love Ditanu. If so, Iltani wanted to rail against her goddess’s decision. Yes, it might be sacrilegious, but she still wanted to know just what Ishtar, the great Queen of the Night, Goddess of love, fertility, and battle had been thinking when she created her Blade to love the gryphon king so devotedly and then let him take another to mate.
Well, ruptured guts and severed balls! It wasn’t like she hadn’t had this particular internal debate a hundred times before, each one as ugly and painful as the first time. She sighed out the breath she’d been holding and stared down at her pack, her mind going back to the only thing that comforted her during these moments of melancholy.
Surely something of the bond they shared still remained buried in the king who now sat the throne? It was too powerful to simply be gone. Iltani and Ditanu had been together for seventeen years. His consort had known him less than three.
That hope gave her the strength she needed to face what was coming. Besides, her mentor had trained her well, even if the worst came to pass and every part of Ditanu’s heart belonged solely to his consort—which it probably did since gryphons mated for life—Iltani could endure as long as he still valued their friendship. It wouldn’t be easy, not with her heart desperately craving more, but her soul could live on whatever crumbs Ditanu might toss her.
After a good wallow in self-pity, Iltani finally looked up from her pack in time to catch Burrukan glancing over his shoulder at her. He held her gaze a moment, and then with a clear evasion, his eyes slid away again.
There was something in that look, a hint of guilt. Iltani’s gaze narrowed, her mind sharpened, shaking off the internal musings like drops of sea spray. All her senses focused on her mentor as she realized something.
He’d been unduly silent on the short voyage, not speaking more than ten words since they’d left the training island of New Assur while the sky was still dark.
She might have thought his silence was brought about by the need to concentrate on navigating the dangerous waters, had he not sailed to New Assur each morning to continue her training and returned to Nineveh each evening to dine with the king and give his report. Burrukan had already mapped and memorized these waters so well he could probably write his report while sailing the skiff at the same time.
No, it was as he’d always said. Talk betrayed things to one’s enemies. While she wasn’t an enemy, Burrukan’s silence spoke volumes. There was something he didn’t want her to know. The absolute silence was Burrukan’s version of nervousness.
As if sensing her regard, his fingers twitched on the ropes, the sail shivering in his grip. His shoulders rose, betraying a slight tension in his body.
Someone less familiar with her mentor would likely have missed those small involuntary tells.
Iltani continued her silent study. She could wait. Patience wasn’t a natural talent she’d been born with, but a skill she’d been forced to learn and master along with everything else.
Pushing her pack containing all her worldly goods aside, she stretched her legs out in front of her; shifting her position just enough to ease the stiff muscles of her lower back.
Burrukan remained with his legs braced for balance, attention fixed firmly forward. His right hand reached up and rubbed the stubble on his shaved head. He’d always said a King’s Shadow didn’t have time to fuss with all the tiny braids and hair ornamentation the rest of the court favored. Secretly, she knew it had more to do with Burrukan’s receding hairline than lack of patience. Not that she would ever mention that.
His hand reached out and rubbed at the stubble a second time.
Burrukan was very nervous about something. Iltani smiled. She’d get him to tell her what was on his mind eventually.
With that knowledge a certainty, she allowed her attention to momentarily drift from her mentor back to Nineveh, where it had grown in size to swallow the horizon.
After a final unneeded tweak of the sail, Burrukan returned to the rear and took up the rudder again and smoothly guided the small boat around the last dangerous patches of water.
The imposing wall of cliffs gave way to a vast harbor. Its calmer waters looking dark and mysterious in the shadow of the stone magnificence of Ishtar’s Gate. Burrukan had told her this one was far grander than the one built long ago in their ancestral desert home of Sumer. Just how Burrukan knew that was up for question since he was nowhere near old enough to have witnessed that first gate’s splendor.
Befitting the Queen of the Night, this newer version of Ishtar’s Gate glittered blue in the early dawn light, its gold inlay bulls and dragons catching the light and winking it back.
Closer now, Iltani could pick out the artistic details she’d loved to study as a child, those intricately engraved dragon scales and the proudly curving horns of the bulls.
Iltani dragged in a deep, shaking breath, surprised at the tightness in her throat.
High overhead the blue and gold design continued all the way up to the peaks of the towering turrets. Ishtar’s Gate was the most imposing of the eight gates leading into the interior of the largest of the island city-states.
She had missed the beauty of Nineveh.
As the small boat sailed under the high, graceful arch of the gate and continued to sail the smoother waters of the harbor, Iltani knew this journey home was as much spiritual as physical.
Burrukan held his silence but guided the boat toward a small wooden dock just inside the gate. Rugged stairs carved from the stone of the island led up from the water line to a gatehouse where three of the King’s Shadows waited for Burrukan to disembark from his boat.
Iltani watched her mentor tie off the boat to the moorings. She would have offered her aid if Burrukan was less
of a stubborn old goat. Instead, she held her silence but allowed her gaze to narrow upon him.
The boat secured, Burrukan came to stand at the bow, his back still to her as he stared at the stone stairs, unmoving.
Iltani remained seated, her pack resting between her knees.
Burrukan dragged in a deep breath and then let it out on a chuckle. “There is something I promised to give you. I must do it now before we set foot back upon Nineveh or I will be guilty of treason. And wouldn’t that give Ditanu’s enemies on the council something to gorge upon?”
Iltani’s breath stilled in her lungs.
Treason?
“King Ditanu gave me some items,” Burrukan explained, “items I was supposed to deliver to you.”
Iltani dragged in a breath and released it just as quickly.
What an interesting turn of events.
Yet she did not doubt Burrukan’s loyalty to his king. Not for a moment. A King’s Shadow never betrayed their king. They could not. The magic binding king and guard together prevented such. A Shadow saw to the king’s safety first. That sacred vow even took precedence over some of the king’s orders and most certainly his wishes. Besides, Burrukan had practically raised both her and Ditanu.
If Burrukan had defied Ditanu’s wishes, it was for the king’s own protection.
He turned to her with his own pack in one hand and started rooting around inside.
After a moment, Burrukan’s searching hand stopped fumbling in the pack’s deep recesses. He closed his eyes and tilted his face to the sky. She caught a few soft snippets of a prayer.
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