Ishtar's Blade

by Blackwood, Lisa

  “Oh, little one, there is no danger here in the heart of Ishtar’s temple. You are safe.” When Iltani looked up from the cub in her arms, she found Burrukan was there to take him off her hands. “I will come back for you, little Mite. I won’t be gone long. You have my word.” She kissed the cub on the forehead and gave him to her mentor. Kuwari continued to fuss, but Burrukan walked him back to his mother.

  Glancing where she’d last seen the king, she found he’d halted, waiting for her. High Priestess Kammani stood at his side now too. Not wanting to keep either the king or the high priestess waiting, she hurried over to them and ignored the soft cries of Kuwari.

  Priestess Kammani hadn’t changed much in the four years since Iltani had last seen her, the familiar warm glint was still in her eyes, so too was that smile which lurked at the corners of her lips. When Iltani reached them, the high priestess spread her arms and took her in a fierce embrace.

  Perhaps it was breaking some formal protocol, but Iltani hugged her back, for Ditanu’s aunt was the closest thing either of them had to a mother.

  “Look at you,” Kammani said with an approving tone. “You’ve grown even more beautiful, and it’s nice to see Burrukan hasn’t completely turned you into one of his stern-faced, disapproving Shadows. Unfortunately, as much as I’d love to reminisce, we have another ceremony to prepare for. I have instructed my acolytes to prepare baths for both of you. There you will also find your ceremonial garb.”

  Ditanu huffed softly in agreement and allowed himself to be led deeper into the temple. Iltani follow.

  Chapter Ten

  Iltani had thought the blooding ceremony would not begin until she was outside, under the stars and in the moonlight.

  She was wrong.

  The ceremony began the moment she and Ditanu were led away by the priestess. She and the king paced side by side as they entered the bathing chamber.

  She supposed it represented unity and balance and being in accord, and other such drivel but she was secretly pleased for it allowed her to stay near the king. When they made it halfway across the room, priestesses, priests, and novices descended upon them.

  They took her sword and daggers, and then her harness and bow and arrow. While one novice was removing Iltani’s few hair ornaments, another was unlacing her sandals while a priestess was stripping away her robes.

  A priest to Iltani’s immediate right was droning on about going before Ishtar bare to reveal one’s true beauty.

  While the priest droned on in his monotone, the two acolytes flanking him continued to chant prayers to the gods and Ishtar in particular.

  Rolling her eyes in the king’s direction, Iltani swallowed a smile at seeing his tufted ears threatening to pin themselves to his skull. Upon first glance, it looked like the priests were grooming his feathers for him until the first feather was carefully selected and pulled free with considerable force.

  Iltani knew this was the part of the ceremony where the gryphon king gave offerings for his Blade. The feathers would later be woven into her ceremonial garb. The number of feathers donated was always determined by the king. Curious, she watched wondering how many he would allow pulled for her.

  Between the two priests, they pulled six of the king’s secondary flight feathers, enough to leave unsightly gaps when he spread his wings, but not enough to ground him. That was far more generous than many a king had been in the past, and still Ditanu stood to allow them to take more.

  One of the priests paused and glanced at the High Priestess. Kammani nodded. After a brief hesitation, the priest resumed, taking smaller feathers from Ditanu’s body.

  The king allowed them to continue plucking him until they had fifteen feathers by Iltani’s count, at which point he suddenly growled, his tail switching. The priests dropped and prostrated themselves on the floor.

  Had Ditanu been in his human form, Iltani was certain he would’ve worn a scowl.

  Iltani was flattered by the number Ditanu had bestowed upon her.

  They were ten paces away from the ceremonial pool when Ditanu halted. His sandalwood and spice scent intensified and Iltani felt the brush of his warm power against her overly sensitive skin. Gooseflesh raced over her body.

  The shift was too fast to see much of anything, just a shimmer of light and then Ditanu was standing beside her in human form. Forcing her eyes away from him, she turned her attention back to the bath.

  Small wisps of steam rose from the ceremonial pool, promising that the communal bath was, at least, warm. The priests and priestesses aiding them began removing their own robes as they prepared to enter the water. A sideways glance showed a delectably naked, golden skinned king watching her back, his eyes hooded and his expression presently unreadable.

  What did he see when he looked at her? Had there been a time in their youth when he looked upon her as a woman and not just his shadow?

  She shook off the webbings of old longings and stepped into the bathing pool. Perhaps this night would wash away that dull ache in her heart and she could finally start anew, as Ishtar’s blade.

  The ceremonial bath did not actually take that long. She and the king simply walked the expanse of the pool, as the priests and priestesses sang their chants and blessings upon them. When they reached the other side, more priests and priestesses were waiting with scented oils and towels. She continued her slow pace, allowing the priestesses to buff her with warm towels and then anoint her body with sacred oils. King Ditanu was undergoing the same ritual.

  Directly ahead, two benches were burdened with their ceremonial garb. Iltani arched an eyebrow when she reached her bundle. She must have made some sound for Ditanu laughed. She glanced at him to see his attendants tying on his ornate loincloth. He tossed her own words back at her. “Ishtar demands her people embrace their own natural splendor.”

  Iltani grunted, her eyes sliding back to the clothing and then over to Ditanu. He was grinning at her. She flushed and grew more flustered at the glint of humor in his eyes. He might have spoken in jest, but Iltani could help but think Ishtar might not be the only one to enjoy the sight of a nearly naked, well-made body. Her eyes lingered upon Ditanu longer than they should. Ishtar wasn’t the only one to enjoy the king’s natural grace.

  Turning back to her own attendants, Iltani held her arms out from her sides and allowed them to fasten her garments in place. A golden chain went around her waist, its many translucent veils, like streamers of light, fluttered in the breeze coming in through the archways. Iltani supposed she should be grateful for the clothing. The ancient texts said that the Queen of the Night was often depicted in her winged form nude save for the golden chains in her hair.

  Next a young priestess wrapped a length of fabric around Iltani’s breasts. She wasn’t modest, which was good because the length of fabric barely met the needs of modesty. Of greater annoyance was the fact that the strip of fabric would be next to useless as a breast binding. Granted, it was highly unlikely that she would need to do battle in such an outfit.

  When she glanced across to the king, he was grinning. She frowned at him darkly. His grin grew larger.

  “When all this is over,” he said, that damn smile still lurking at the edges of his expression, “I will have armor made, something suitable for Ishtar’s new blade.”

  High Priestess Kammani interrupted Iltani before she could make a response. Urging them both forward, she led them out onto the temple’s roof. Torches circled the outer edge, marking the boundary of the roof and illuminating the area with an orange glow. In the center of the space, a small fire burned in a shallow depression carved from the stone of the roof. Next to the fire was a long bench-like altar. This one was far older and far more ornate than the simple one she and the king had used to perform the first blood ceremony. As she approached the altar, she could feel its age and power. This was the place where other kings had shed blood to anoint Ishtar’s Blades throughout history.

  Perhaps it was not such a long list Iltani’s supposed, but she was s
till humbled by the ancient stone.

  Priestess Kammani led them on a winding path to their destination. Some of the lesser priests and priestesses joined their voices together as they chanted blessings upon Ishtar’s newest Blade.

  When Iltani reached the altar, she calmly straddled the bench and sat with hands braced in front of her while she waited. Her tension increased. The fire’s heat caused sweat to bead on her flesh. She would blame the heat. It certainly couldn’t be nerves. They had already completed the blooding ceremony twice.

  She swallowed. This time was different. Now they had an audience of priests and priestesses. There was also the growing suspicion that here, on top of Ishtar’s own temple, the Queen of the Night would make her presence known far more intimately than the first two times.

  A stolen glance in Ditanu’s direction showed he had his blank mask in place. So, he was tense, too. Knowing he was as nervous, made her feel better in comparison.

  While Iltani had been deep in her own thoughts, Priestess Kammani had handed the king an ancient blade. It had a smooth bone hilt and a blade of ancient hammered copper.

  The king approached the bench and then hesitated. She sensed his unease and something else, another’s presence on the roof with them. A banked, simmering magic.

  Ishtar was upon the roof with them.

  Iltani squared her shoulders and waited. The next part was up to the king.

  After another long hesitation on his part, she finally sensed him moving and heard the soft scrape of cloth as he settled on the bench behind her. Her ears straining, she heard a slight intake of breath, likely at the first cut. Inhaling a deep breath, she caught the sharp coppery scent of his blood. He shifted closer until she could feel his body heat. One arm reached around her waist and dragged her back until the length of her spine was sealed to his chest. The warmth of his blood began to flow, trickling down her spine. In its wake, her birthmark began to tingle.

  As before, he braced the arm not wrapped around her waist against the bench in front of her, leaning over her forcing her forward. Again, she was cocooned in his warmth, his scent, his strength—and all of it so very addicting.

  His power and essence flowed into her with his blood, drawn in along the length of her spine. From there it spread out to every corner of her body. It was glorious, painful, and powerful all at once. Her magic stirred and flared, her body beginning to glow from within. Ishtar’s mark pulsed with heat, echoing the beat of her heart. It took her longer to realize it matched Ditanu’s, but she could feel her king’s powerful heart beating in tune to hers.

  She felt his essence stamped into her soul. It had always been there, but now the link was greater. There would never be any doubt as to where he was. She could be in another land, many months distant from him and still she would know where on the planet he was. His cubs, too. She would sense their joy and pain and sorrow. She would always be able to find them. Keep them safe.

  But perhaps Ishtar’s greatest gift was a secret, unseen one. Iltani now owned a piece of Ditanu; it was rooted into her soul. Just as surely, she belonged to him. Happiness bubbled up inside. She wanted to throw her arms open wide and laugh joyously in thanks to Ishtar. It battled with the urged to turn and wrap her king in a fierce hug.

  Ditanu moaned softly, the sound tumbled over her, caressing her skin. He made another guttural sound of protest.

  What? Iltani shoved aside her internal musings and took note of what was going on around her for the first time in several moments.

  Ishtar’s presence had increased tenfold while Iltani’s body had been adjusting to the new infusion of blood. The Queen of the Night was a goddess of many aspects. She could be a wager of war, a healer, or a bringer of life. During a normal Blooding Ceremony, it was an aspect of her battle magic that forged the ties between blade and king, but the thickening magic swirling around them now wasn’t the scorched scent of Ishtar’s battle magic. No, this power was warmer, mellower, but shared a familiar tinge with that destructive power. Warm passion and rich fertility. A mix that was usually saved for fertility rites or the Sacred Marriage.

  What was Ishtar planning? Ditanu wasn’t a candidate for either rite.

  No wonder the king sounded distressed.

  “Ishtar’s probably just being playful like she was during the first Blooding Ceremony in the bath,” Iltani whispered. Wanting to give him some kind of reassurance, she reached out and patted his arm where it was wrapped around her waist. His muscles were so tense she might as well have been touching stone. Turning, she realized his forehead was pressed against her shoulder. A fierce swirling magic radiated off him. It was potent, a sultry heat pressing against her skin, raising the tiny hairs along her arms and the back of her neck. She gasped, but only dragged in more of Ditanu’s scent and Ishtar’s magic, each lungful adding to a growing desire and a heavy throbbing deep inside. Iltani wanted to touch Ditanu, feel his warm skin brush against every part of her. She could only imagine what it was doing to Ditanu.

  Yet that was not what made her gasp in surprise.

  All around them, the priests and priestesses, even High Priestess Kammani herself, lay prostrate upon the ground, foreheads pressed into the stone. Only one winged being still stood, glorious power radiating off her as she stood at the king’s shoulder, her hand resting upon his back.

  The Queen of the Night had come in person to lay claim to her King and her Blade.

  Chapter Eleven

  A heady mix of fear, anticipation and confusion spiked through Iltani’s blood, setting her heart pounding. Ishtar had only ever appeared in person a handful of times during blooding ceremonies. Each of those times, she’d demanded the Sacred Marriage. It was a great blessing, but those participants had been unmated until the ritual forged mating bonds between them.

  Ishtar touched Iltani and all higher thoughts fled her mind. Great need flooded her, radiating out from the spot of her shoulder where a goddess had laid her hand. Above her, the king shuddered almost convulsively, but he didn’t try to pull away or struggle.

  For a time, Iltani floated cocooned in power and heat and need. One sensation blended into another until there was a great fiery ache centered low in her belly. She pressed back against the male body above her.

  Her hearing crackled with white noise and raw power, but slowly she sorted through the chaos and realized the king was speaking.

  “I won’t. I will not force her.”

  Iltani shook her head, trying to clear her muddled thoughts. A moment more and she schooled her mind enough to focus. When she did, his thoughts came to her. His panic was the most forefront of his emotions. She stroked his arm, wanting him to know it was all right, that she was willing.

  “I will not take her, not even at your command. You cannot make me.”

  “Ditanu, it is all right.”

  “No!” He roared. “I do not want this, not like this.”

  Ditanu didn’t want her?

  Emotional pain lanced through Iltani’s heart and mind, his words a swift kick to the gut, a sharp blow to the head. They were still piercing and excruciating and startling to hear even though they were a cold truth she’d known all along. Of course he did not want her, he could not want her. He already had a mate—it didn’t matter that Ahassunu was unfaithful to him, he still loved her. He would not, could not, perform the Sacred Marriage with Iltani.

  Her mind started to work again.

  Even if Ishtar persuaded Ditanu, or worse, forced him, what then? Ishtar would return to her spiritual home, and they would be left to deal with the fallout come morning. There was no way Iltani would willingly harm her king, even emotionally. Worse, it would drive a wedge between them that at some later point could damage her ability to keep him safe.

  Unfortunately, the Queen of the Night seemed disinclined to listen to pleas from her gryphon king and was simply overwhelming him with her power, for Iltani felt the unmistakable evidence of his desire.

  A part of her knew it was simply a reaction to th
e Queen of the Night’s power and had nothing to do with Iltani herself, but she was starting to think that did not matter. Ditanu wasn’t going to be able to control himself. Ishtar wouldn’t let him. Afterward, the guilt would set in. She knew Ditanu. That’s how it would happen and it would destroy a part of him. Iltani couldn’t let that happen, but she didn’t have the power to deny a goddess.

  Hmmm, but what if she and Ditanu gave the Queen of the Night some of what she asked? Would it be enough to keep her from demanding everything?

  Perhaps if she beseeched Ishtar directly?

  Not that she knew if her thoughts and prayers would even touch the goddess in their presence, but it was worth a try. With nothing to lose, Iltani shrugged and prayed to a goddess.

  ‘Great Ishtar, long have you been revered for your strength, beauty, and passion,’ Iltani began, hesitant, but growing stronger. ‘Once called Inanna, Queen of Heaven, by the humans of the outer world, but to the gryphons, you have always been our great Ishtar, Queen of the Night.’

  Your gryphon king is loyal to you, and he would gladly offer himself to you if he were free to do so. But he loves his mate, as his instincts dictate—instincts you infused all gryphons with at their creation. Oh, great Ishtar. Please do not punish my king because he is as you made him.’

  ‘Punishment? This is not about punishment. It is about protecting New Sumer.’ Ishtar’s form shimmered, growing less ghost-like. ‘I and my beloved Tammuz only wish to share power, to strengthen you both for the danger we see looming ahead. You would do well to accept our offer.’

  Dark thoughts and disastrous scenarios flew through Iltani’s mind. Ishtar was a goddess of battle. If she said there was trouble coming to Sumer’s shores, then it was true and Iltani would do whatever she must. ‘Great Ishtar, I am a steadfast servant and am most willing to receive your gift. I would be honored to partake in the Sacred Marriage. But if I am honest, I have no interest in an unwilling male. Ditanu loves his mate.’