Ishtar's Blade

by Blackwood, Lisa

  “I know.” Ditanu’s one hand slid down her arm and then ventured back up, he repeated his gentle caress twice more before he stopped. Iltani would be surprised if he were even aware of the action. “And you have always been whatever I needed, haven’t you?”

  Iltani could pretend ignorance, but she knew what he spoke of. How could she not, it was the only thing she could think of. “Yes, Ishtar and Tammuz healed you by having us perform the Sacred Marriage.”

  “Ah,” He grunted softly.

  “Ah?” she asked, needing to hear something more.

  He pulled back enough he could look down at her. A long finger hooked under her chin and tilted her head back so she would meet his gaze. “Were you willing? Or did Ishtar overwhelm you with her desires?”

  His question caught her off guard. Was it asked out of curiosity? Or fear and guilt that she was a victim? Iltani was already feeling vulnerable with all that had gone on, but she wouldn’t allow Ditanu to feel even the slightest guilt, even if by answering truthfully she was revealing more about her own desires than she might want.

  “I was willing. You know Ishtar’s Blade would do anything for her gryphon king.” It sounded far too intimate even saying it that way, but it was true. Ditanu needed to hear many truths if their kingdom was to survive.

  Kuwari had been silent and mostly still, but he kept raising his head and looking up at her expectantly. Finally with a disgusted sound of annoyance, he squealed.

  “He’s hungry,” Ditanu said, and not bothering to get up, he called for a servant to bring him milk for the cub.

  Kammani soon returned with the milk and a converted water skin. Iltani had wanted to move, to give Ditanu a few moments with his cub, but he wouldn’t let her out of his lap.

  “You are Kuwari’s mother now,” Ditanu said simply, a peaceful expression in his eyes as he watched his cub nuzzle at Iltani’s breasts. “He’ll expect you to be the one to feed him, even if it is just from the milk skin.”

  Ditanu reached around from behind and cupped her breasts, protecting them from Kuwari’s more vigorous attempts to nurse as he explained the way of it to his cub. “Kuwari, I know you are hungry, but you will have to settle for the milk skin.”

  The strong fingers at her breast had her thoughts scattering in all directions. Ditanu might not even be aware of what he was doing to her body. It wasn’t until he shifted his hands to Kuwari and stuck the water skin’s ‘teat’ into the cub’s mouth that she was able to master speech.

  “That isn’t. I wasn’t. I have no intention of trying to replace your mate. I know gryphons form strong, unbreakable mating bonds. As for Kuwari and the unborn cubs, I am not as presumptuous as to usurp Consort Ahassunu’s role. I care only that the next generation of gryphon kings prospers. If you would prefer someone else nurture Kuwari, I understand.”

  His grief, she could do nothing for, but Iltani hoped her words would give Ditanu some peace and freed him from any guilt he might feel about what had occurred.

  Again a finger hooked under her jaw and tilted her head until she was looking into Ditanu’s eyes. His hand shifted to cup the side of her face. “Why would they need another mother when they have Ishtar’s Blade to protect and provide for them? And I am gladder than I can say to know you survived and are here with me in this dark time.”

  Iltani didn’t know what to make of the look in his eyes, but it breathed new life into an impossible hope, one which was probably better left buried.

  He tucked her against his chest, her face buried against his neck. After another moment, he rested his head upon her hair. “I am thankful Ishtar chose you for the Sacred Marriage and not one of her other priestesses. I couldn’t have abided anyone else, but you are a part of me. My shadow.”

  His statement didn’t require an answer, for which she was grateful. In her present state, she’d spill her heart to her king in one embarrassing long speech. She closed her eyes and relaxed against him, content to stay exactly where she was. Besides, Kuwari was still nursing from his milk skin. Iltani arranged it so the ‘teat’ was suspended in the valley between her breasts at a somewhat natural angle for the cub to nurse from.

  “You do that well.” Ditanu reached out to stroke his cub’s head.

  Iltani grunted in acknowledgement. It was good Ditanu was already a father and knew something about the care and feeding of cubs. Iltani didn’t know the first thing about being a mother, but it probably required a strong inner strength, which was something she had in abundance.

  She’d make Ditanu proud, and maybe one day, she could give him comfort outside of the Sacred Marriage. The traitorous thought refused to go away no matter how many times she tried to shove it back into the part of her mind that housed her deepest, most foolish desires.

  His mate was barely cold for Ishtar’s sake, and Ditanu had no idea his consort was unfaithful.

  Slowly her whirling thoughts calmed, soothed by the sounds of Kuwari nursing and of Ditanu’s heart under her ear. She drifted to sleep feeling the rhythmic stroking of his hand down her hair. Firm lips pressed against her cheek and grazed the side of her mouth, but that might have been nothing more than the beginnings of a dream.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Iltani awoke slowly to the sounds of conversation. Shifting out from underneath a heavy cover, she sat up and scanned what she could see of the room from behind the partly closed drapes. Someone was pacing.

  First Ditanu’s and then his aunt’s voice drifted to her. She tossed back the covers and realized her robe was gone. She was naked again—it was becoming an alarming habit. She found a clean robe laid across the end of the bed for her. She shoved her arms into it and was still tying the belt when she emerged from the shadowy sanctuary of the bed.

  Ditanu was standing next to the hearth, Kuwari snuggled in his arms while he had a heated debate with Kammani. It looked to have been going on for some time.

  “I need to go before the council now. My kingdom is in shambles!”

  Priestess Kammani planted a fist on her hip. “Send Iltani. You are not ready to face the council yet. Wait another day. Grieve. Bury your cubs.”

  Ditanu’s jaw flexed and his skin paled. “I will grieve later, once I know everyone else who depends on me is safe.”

  “I repeat: send Iltani in your place. Let her ferret out the traitors before you give them another chance to end the line of the gryphon kings. If you die, Iltani dies, your unborn cubs with her—she still needs your blood until her metamorphosis is complete and she can take on gryphon form. And if you and Iltani both die, how long do you think little Kuwari will last? Send Iltani! Let her do her job.”

  Iltani joined them in front of the fire. “I’ve only heard the tail end of this conversation, but Kammani speaks wisdom. The council might not fear lowly Iltani, but once they learn I am Ishtar’s Blade, they will. Fear breeds desperation and desperation breeds stupidity. I can use that to expose the traitors. Only after they are outed, will we be safe.”

  Ditanu frowned, but his expression was thoughtful. Before her stood Ditanu the king. There was no sign of the man. Good. Because Kammani was wrong. Ditanu the man would be a grieving mess. They needed the iron-willed king if they were to survive.

  Ditanu and Kammani needed to learn what Ishtar had shown Iltani in the night. “You’re both correct. The ten city-states need to see their king strong and recovering, but they need us to find the traitors even more.”

  Iltani explained the dream Ishtar had shown her and told them about Ereshkigal’s plan.

  “Ereshkigal?” Ditanu said at last, thoughtful, and quiet—many plans flicking behind his eyes.

  “Send me to the council. I will bluff—tell them half a truth, that Kuwari survived but I will let them think you died. They will know I won’t long outlive you, a week at most without your blood. It will make them bold, and they will think Kuwari an easy target or a pawn they can use.” Iltani stepped up until she was nearly nose to nose with Ditanu. “Let me separate our enemies from our
allies. I don’t even need a week. Just give me this day to find our true allies among those who will simply grab for power. And then tomorrow,” her voice softened, “when it is time to bury your little ones, we will show all the gatherers that the king of the gryphons and Ishtar’s Blade are very willing to hunt down all who mean New Sumer harm.”

  “Iltani is correct,” Kammani crossed the room and paced a circle around him. “Her plan is sound. This way neither you nor Kuwari will have to expose yourselves to the council for another day. And stronger is stronger. The council respects strength.”

  “I don’t want to send Iltani into danger when I don’t have her back.”

  “Allow Iltani to fulfill her role as Ishtar’s Avenging Blade. Let her deal with them for Ishtar will have her back. Which gives me another idea. Order Iltani to tell the council of Kuwari’s survival and to also say she is now the cub’s regent, by Ishtar’s decree and your last command.”

  His expression darkening, he paced away from Kammani and then turned and paced back. “Your words are wise, and I will agree to this since it is best for all ten city-states if we find the traitors quickly, but I still don’t like sending Iltani to face those sharks on her own.” He turned to Iltani. “You may do this, but you will have an escort of twenty Shadows. I will not have the mother of my unborn cubs put at risk.” There was a simmering anger underlying his words.

  “As you wish. I will take the Shadows and I will learn all I can and then return with what I’ve learned.”

  “Good. It’s settled then,” Kammani said. “I’ll help Iltani bath and prepare. Time is of the essence. We don’t want the council naming a new regent or something else equally silly.”

  Iltani bobbed her head. “Kammani’s correct. We need to hurry.” She looked down at herself and winced. She was still covered in dried sweat and patches of flaking blood that she’d missed during her swift scrub in the bathing chamber.

  Ditanu’s free hand landed on her shoulder and he squeezed gently. “You may do this for the good of our kingdom, but afterward, you will return to me and I will decide what is to be done with anyone you deem a traitor. You will not go after them yourself. It is too dangerous. If you’re not concerned for yourself, think of my cubs.”

  “I will never forget and I will never put them directly in harm’s way.”

  “Good. We understand each other. Return to me quickly. That’s an order too.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Iltani had bathed quickly. Afterward, the priestess had helped with the mess that was her hair, toweling it dry and then working out the mass of tangles. There wasn’t time to braid it, but Kammani had commented Iltani possessed a natural beauty that needed no outward enhancement. Iltani had never wasted much time wondering if she was beautiful. But with the way Ditanu just stood gazing at her with Kuwari in his arms, as Kammani dressed her, Iltani couldn’t help but wonder if the king thought her pretty. She soon pushed aside her frivolous thoughts and focused on what she must do next.

  That was how she came to be striding toward the council chambers, a new many-veiled skirt fluttering around her legs. Flowing along behind her, making less noise than the soft rustling of her skirt, twenty Shadows marched in her wake.

  A harness held her scabbard and crystalline sword across her back where she could draw it swiftly if there was need. She didn’t think she would be slaying any of the councilors in this first meeting. Still, she believed in being prepared and looking like she was ready to rain down Ishtar’s rage upon them all.

  Kammani had tried to convince Iltani to go bare-chested as the goddess herself often did. Iltani had declined the offer. At which point a dower faced Ditanu had handed her a long veil to help secure her breasts and she’d mumbled that perhaps goddesses didn’t have such issues as inconveniently large breasts.

  Ditanu had laughed, a smugly male chuckle. After she’d gotten over her girly reaction to his voice, she’d wanted to tell him he could wear the flimsy finery. Instead, she’d strapped on the arm blades he’d gifted her with. Another long dagger she strapped to her thigh. The skirt of veils didn’t really hide it, but she wasn’t trying to hide her weapons.

  A simple leather tie held her hair bunched at the nape of her neck. Kammani had artfully pulled it over her right shoulder where the weight of her hair held it in place. It wasn’t done for beauty. No, Kammani had wanted Iltani’s indigo and golden swirling birthmark to show.

  In the end, Iltani now stalked toward the council chambers wearing less than she’d have wished, but more than she might have been, so she’d held her tongue against further debate. Besides, there would be enough debating with the council members.

  Two Shadows moved ahead of her and reached the council chamber doors a few strides ahead of Iltani.

  She was now their new leader, as was her right as Ishtar’s Blade. That still took some time to accept. The Shadows shoved open the door hard enough to cause them to swing back and clatter against the wall. Once through the threshold, she stormed into the council, seeing what she expected to see.

  Chaos.

  She approached the central table, took one quick look around and then shouted over the noise of the council. “I order you to stop fighting amongst yourselves like a pack of hyenas. The next one to speak about claiming the throne will find themselves in the underworld.”

  All around the table mouths dropped open in shock.

  Beletum’s father forced himself to his feet—he’d been one of the few actually sitting down at the council table. Most of the others were on their feet already, as if taking a stronger stance against their opponent would win them whatever argument said councilor was waging.

  Once Ziyatum made it to his feet, he wobbled a touch, then grabbed up a walking stick and used it to steady himself. His grimace of pain did not elicit even a glimmer of sympathy. It didn’t matter that he’d earning the wound while trying to save his daughter from Ditanu’s wrath. If they hadn’t concocted the foolish plan to have Beletum attempt to seduce the king during his grief madness, neither one of them would have been injured. She’d never forgive Ziyatum for raising his sword to Ditanu.

  Iltani would have just executed them both—she didn’t trust either in the least, but she had no real proof of their guilt either and without it the other councilors would start fearing for their lives. Killing large numbers of New Sumer’s ruling body wouldn’t be beneficial to its people. Besides, Ditanu wasn’t likely to be impressed if he suddenly had minor nobles from all over the ten city-states badgering him every moment.

  Ziyatum put on a fierce face. “What is the meaning of this? The council chambers are no place for a girl barely into her womanhood.”

  “Old man, your sight is going,” Iltani bit back, and she started walking toward the head of the table. “And your mind, too, if you think I’m still a child. I have lived twenty-one summers upon these islands and have already seen a lifetime’s worth of betrayal and power mongering.”

  “Blah!” Ziyatum father sneered. “Simply because you chased the king like a bitch in heat since before you were ever a woman, and he permitted it until he even he tired of it, and sent you away to choose a real mate, doesn’t mean you have any authority here.”

  Killing any of the councilors might be out of the question, but offending them or putting a little healthy fear in them wasn’t out of the question, so Iltani started to laugh. “You shoved so many insults in there it doesn’t even make sense.”

  She unclasped her cloak and pulled it off, folding it over one arm as she walked the length of the table. There were a few sharply drawn breaths. She ignored them and continued forward, past the table and to the king’s chair. There she took a moment to fold the cloak nearly, to give the councilors a good look at the birthmark running down her spine.

  Turning toward the speechless councilors, she drew her sword and stepped up to the table where she gently placed the sword upon the polished stone surface. The fire within the crystalline blade flared with renewed life, casting a l
ight across the table and reflected off any smooth surfaces.

  “I shall clarify something here and now. The throne belongs to none of you. Ditanu’s youngest cub has survived. Kuwari is the next in line for the crown.”

  Leaving the sword where it lay, because she wanted to see if any of the councilors were brave enough to touch it, she continued her walk around the table. By this time the twenty Shadows had taken up places along the walls and at either end of the table, which effectively cowed anyone else who might feel the need to start a debate.

  “There shall be no more bickering.” She nodded to some of the councilors as she past. Grabbing a shoulder here or a belt there, she shoved their owners down into their respective seats. “I am Kuwari’s protector. Ishtar herself has tasked me with protecting him and providing for him. If any of you have a problem with that, you may take it up with Ishtar. I am more than capable of seeing your soul freed of its flesh so that you may better commune with the goddess.”

  There was shock and confusion on many a face, but several were also clearly relieved that the line of the gryphon kings had not failed. Consort Ahassunu’s father, Shalanum, was clearly still filled with grief, but immediately nodded his head at Iltani.

  “How may we serve you, Regent?”

  His alliance didn’t come as a surprise. She had saved his remaining grandchild.

  And yes, that was honest grief she saw in his eyes. While she didn’t know if he was aware that his daughter was betraying her king with Burrukan, Iltani decided he would still be a potential ally.

  Hmmm, perhaps later she will tell him that one of Ahassunu’s last acts was to ensure her unborn litter still had a chance at life and she gave them into Iltani’s keeping.

  “It’s passed time we got down to business. Our kingdom has need of us now.”

  *****

  The war council turned out to be an exercise in frustration. Instead of narrowing down the list of enemies as she’d planned, her list of suspects had only grown in size. While most seem to accept her rule, for now, there were a few who clearly would try to take command from her.