"And why don't you have slaves?" she asked. "Carrying around your wares must be taxing."
"It is," he said. "But then I must ask you a question? Why don't you have a slave?"
She sighed. "Good question. I enjoy living alone. Plus, that's merely another mouth to feed."
Nergur nodded. "I remember a time you didn't." The old man was looking at her, studying her. Hela did not meet his eyes.
"Yes. There was a time I didn't."
Nergur stared up at the sun. "The herd does not live alone, Hela. Without others, they whither and die. No person should be without another."
"And what about you?"
He laughed. "Rules do not apply to me. As I think you know."
Hela shook her head. "'Born of fire, raised in flame, walking the land outside the sons and daughters of man.'" She turned and peered at his stony expression. "And the lapis? The gold? The silver?"
"Mere excuses to travel the world and consort with beautiful ladies."
"Perhaps that is your function, Nergur." She tapped his arm. "Or perhaps not."
"Change is coming." His voice dropped so she could barely hear it. "Bad change. You should leave this place," he said.
She raised her eyebrows. "Indeed? And leave my home behind?"
He nodded. "There are other cities. Other homes to have. There is no reason for you to stay here." Nergur gestured to the city walls. "Man raises those to protect what he has. But man cannot raise them to protect against inevitability. And you cannot stay here and expect to find happiness. You have mourned long enough."
Hela's mouth opened in surprise. She could find no words to respond.
Nergur smiled at her. "You are little more than a shadow here, daughter. You must move on."
"No," she said. "I just haven't found what I'm looking for."
"Exactly," he said. He leaned in close. She smelled figs and something like burning cedar on his breath. "And I'm telling you the same thing you already know--you will not find it here." He pointed to the necklace around her neck. "You have worn that for 80 Name Days. And she has been gone for 50 of those. It's time for a new necklace."
Hela nodded. Nergur had sold her that necklace the day she met Minussah. It was the one piece of lapis she had never worn while she fed. Her ankle bracelets and the charms in her hair did a good enough job to keep the beast in check. The necklace had been Minussa's favorite piece.
"Perhaps you are right," she said at last.
He winked. "Aren't I always?"
She laughed. "I don't know about that, but close enough."
"Now if you'll permit me, this old man has business to attend to." Nergur rose and groaned. Whether in pleasure or pain, she couldn't tell. He bowed at the waist. "Shall I see you tomorrow?"
She nodded. "Thank you, Nergur. And yes, you shall."
"Then I leave you to enjoy the day, dear Hela." The ancient figure turned from her and disappeared into the shadows like smoke.
Jinn, she thought. The word bounced around her mind whenever she and Nergur talked. Creature of smoke. Immortal. Blessed to live forever, cursed to forever travel the world alone. She fingered the necklace. There were questions she wanted to ask him, but she knew he wouldn't tell her. He knew she was nephilim. How could he not? The lapis man who traveled the known world, collecting trinkets and making friends with others that stood outside the herd. Nergur. Trickster. Friend. Advisor.
Hela shook her head. The gods didn't speak in words. They spoke in images, dreams, and events. Perhaps in Nergur, they found a voice with which they could speak. What the creature had said certainly meshed with the dreams she'd been having.
She dropped her fingers from the jewelry and scanned the alleys. More than one man had noticed her playing with the necklace. She smiled. Thieves might take many things from her, but the necklace was something she'd kill to protect. And that could be a good thing too. For the beast, at least.
Garaaga's shadow growled in her mind. Feed. Yes, she'd have to feed tonight. Perhaps she'd find a morsel as she sat beneath the olive tree.
Hela stayed until the sun was low in the sky. As the day had worn on, the number of visitors grew. They lingered. Some even purchased food from the growing number of hawkers. When Hela finally found someone to feed the beast, Sin was making His journey across the sky amidst the cluttered stars.
3
MARKET Day was tomorrow, but the celebrations had started early. A group of musicians had congregated at the northern end of the square. Their lyres, horns, and drums played music for the crowd. Hela listened and loved it.
During Market Day's continuous gyrations and swells of people and the noise of talking and haggling, music was lost in the din. Tonight was a quiet treat. Instead of shouting to one another, the populace, both rich and poor, seemed perfectly content to sit in the square and just listen.
Hela's ears weren't the only part of her body enjoying the music. Her eyes constantly swung to the woman playing an olive-wood lyre. The musician was clothed in a revealing blue robe that showcased her small breasts and dark skin. But her eyes...
Even from so far away, Hela could make out her beautiful eyes. The lyre-player must be of mixed ancestry. Instead of the usual brown, they looked a verdant green. Since she'd settled in Ur, she'd never seen a human with such beautiful eyes.
When she'd traveled the world, she had seen pale skin, red skin, brown, black, and every shade in-between. Blue eyes, green eyes, brown, and even gray. But this shade of green was different. It was as if her eyes were Inanna's fertile fields and Dumuzi had fertilized them.
It was the green that occurred after floods. The green of life and wild grass. Hela was instantly aroused. Men and women around her began to turn their heads. Women shifted their legs. Men loosened their robes. When Hela realized the beast was making its way through her skin, she fingered the lapis necklace. Her loins remained warm and moist, but the humans ceased noticing her. Or at least focused again on the music.
The drummer ceased smacking his instruments. The other lyre players stopped in mid-pluck. The woman stood with her olive-wood lyre and began to sing.
Without the accompaniment of the other musicians, Hela could focus on the woman's fingers as they flowed up and down the instrument. But her voice! The woman sang in a high-pitched voice that moved through ancient syllables of Sumer.
It was the poem of Inanna and Dumuzi's first love making. The congress. The land blessed, the world reborn. Hela couldn't help shivering with want. The beast agreed.
The crowd had at first been awestruck by the melodious tones and then started to cheer as they recognized the song. Some muttered along in Akkadian. Others in the old tongue. Hela did her best to ignore the sound of their voices and focus on the woman's.
Hela fingered the pouch at her waist. She had better than seven shekels. It was more than enough. The woman would be hers. If not by choice, then by manipulation.
Garaaga's shadow purred inside her mind. Hela listened to the rest of the song in quiet contentment. When the musician finished, the crowd roared with approval. The singer bowed, bright flashes of color rising on her cheeks. Her lips moved in quiet gratitude and Hela could barely contain her lust.
She sat through three more songs. The woman did not perform another solo, something Hela was both disappointed and glad for. If the woman had, she wasn't sure she could contain the beast. The joy in the singer's voice had made her entire body smile. Hela had seen pure love and faith in the gods. But there was also something sad lying beneath the words, as though it was an exaltation.
The more Hela remembered the singing, the more she focused on her mind's eye view of the woman's face when she'd finished the song. Had there been a tear in her eye? Had she been so close to breaking down? Was that what was beneath the song and the smile? She needed to know. She was desperate to know.
When the musicians finished to great applause, they collected the crowd's offerings of coins, grain, and fruit. They lingered a bit, breaking down their instruments. The singer put hers in
a goatskin sack, cinched it, and headed into the nearest alley.
A group of jugglers made their way to the stage, but Hela ignored them. The crowd would stay put so long as they could afford the beer and there was something to gawk at. That was fine with Hela. She had a trail to follow.
After hours of sitting on the hard ground, her body was tense and rigid. She willed her joints and muscles to release their tension. The discomfort disappeared immediately. The beast growled in hunger and she gritted her teeth. Soon, she told it. Be patient.
The beast did not speak to her in words. It was a rumble in her mind and sizzle in her nerves. Its want was becoming desperate. She could keep it under control for a time, but eventually its hunger would win. If it took control of her, there would be no stopping it.
Hela ducked into a dark alley. Thieves and pickpockets were no doubt ensconced in the square, waiting for both rich and poor alike to drink themselves into a stupor. She had nothing to fear from criminals so long as the impromptu entertainment continued.
Her nose wrinkled at the trash in the alley. The smell of spoiled meat and decaying vegetables was strong. The night had left the alley in complete darkness. She used the beast's eyes for a moment to find her way through the detritus and to the street.
A few revelers headed home from the square, their steps lazy and unsure with drink. Hela turned her head and looked down the other end. A lone woman shuffled toward a hostel. Hela removed her necklace and placed it in the pouch. When she looked up, the woman was almost at the building's door.
Hela closed her eyes and pushed. The beast, half-starved and nearly mad with want, reached toward its target. She could feel Garaaga's shadow make contact with the singer. Its invisible tendrils wrapped around the woman's mind and pulled.
She opened her eyes. The singer had turned from the door and was staring up the street at her. Hela smiled and continued walking toward her. Without the necklace around her neck, there was no lapis save for the charms in her hair. The beast was rising from its shell, its appetite desperate and extreme. She would have to be careful; it would truly be a waste to hurt this member of the herd.
The singer walked toward her, eyes glittering in the torchlight cast from the walls. The woman slowed and stopped a few steps away.
She cleared her throat. "Do I know you?" the woman asked.
Hela giggled. "No. Do you want to?"
The woman smiled. "I know no one in the city."
"Then you should know me." Hela grinned. "Are you hungry?"
The woman nodded. "I-- They do not pay me much. Do not share." Her Akkadian was muddled, accented. She was obviously not from Ur or even the kingdom. Not originally, at least.
Hela nodded. "Then I shall cook you a meal. Your voice should be fed. It was very beautiful."
The singer blushed. "You are too kind. My name is Ushar."
"Hela. My house," she pointed up the street, "is not far. Let me take your lyre. You must be tired."
Ushar shook her head, hands gripping the goatskin bag even tighter. "No, thank you. I have it."
"You are scared," Hela said. She could see it in the woman's body language, the way she held her livelihood, and the way her eyes kept sliding over Hela's shoulders.
Ushar blushed again. "I am sorry. Last I was in Ur, I had trouble."
"That is unfortunate," Hela said. "I swear to Sin there will be no trouble if you are with me." She pushed and the beast once again reached into Ushar's mind. Her worried look disappeared into a vacant smile.
"No trouble," the singer whispered.
"Let's go," Hela said.
As they walked up the street, Hela hated herself for bringing the beast forward. The singer was troubled. By what, Hela had no idea. But instead of talking to Ushar, Hela'd used the beast to get her way. At times, there was need for that. But she wondered if it had been necessary with the beautiful woman.
A family passed by them. Despite the beast's influence, Ushar smiled at the little girl holding her father's hand.
Child, she thought. One day, I shall have one too.
The sadness she'd seen in Ushar? The sadness she'd seen in the woman's body as she sang her song? Was it related? Hela felt sure that it was.
When they reached her home, Hela lit a lamp and bade Ushar to sit on the bed. She pushed the beast down. It roared in displeasure and disappointment, but it obeyed. For the moment.
"What are you hungry for?" Hela asked.
Ushar rubbed at her temples. "I'm sorry. Hela, is it?"
Hela grinned. "Yes, dear. Hela. What would you like to eat?"
The musician shook her head with a nervous smile. "I-- I don't know."
"Good," Hela said. "Figs. Lamb. Bread. Just stay there. I'll bring you a plate."
It took only a few moments to put together a spread from the pantry. She'd bought smoked lamb two days ago. Hela put her nose near the meat and inhaled. Wrapped in olive leaves, the meat smelled of tamarind and chili. Her mouth watered.
She unwrapped an old shawl and pulled four pieces of laffa. The flat, unleavened bread had been baked until crispy. She placed them on a plate and added the thin strips of lamb. She added the figs and garnished the plate with raisins.
When she walked out of the kitchen and into the main room, Ushar sat cross-legged on the bed. The woman had loosened her robe. Her eyes glittered in the flickering lamp light. Hela sat on the bed across from Ushar and placed the plate between them.
"You are very generous," Ushar said.
Hela bowed at the waist. "It is nothing. I wanted to thank you properly for your song."
Ushar bowed in return. She closed her eyes and raised her hands. Hela watched her lips move in silent prayer. The singer dropped her arms down and opened her eyes. She smiled. "Must give Inanna thanks for this gift."
"Inanna always blesses this house," Hela said. "More than ever, we need the blessings of her marriage." A moment of silence followed. Hela chuckled. "Eat. Please. You are making me uncomfortable."
Ushar nodded to her. Her long, delicate fingers plucked a fig from the plate. She dropped it into her mouth and chewed with a moan. She swallowed and shook her head. "I've not had a fig that fresh in a long time. Where do you get them?" She took another from the plate.
"I make friends," Hela said. "Some of them have private gardens. And sometimes I find the best fruit just lying about."
Ushar's eyebrows raised as she popped another fig between her lips. She chewed and moaned with pleasure. Stray drops of juice dribbled down her bottom lip. Ushar raised a hand to her face, but Hela caught it. Ushar looked alarmed as Hela placed her fingers to the singer's lips and brushed the juice.
"Wonderful to have a taste." Hela licked the juice off her finger and then slid it across Ushar's lips. "Don't you think?"
The singer dropped her eyes and a sheepish smile replaced her frantic look. "Inanna would say so." Ushar's hand rubbed against Hela's knee. Her fingers danced slowly upwards to tickle the inside of Hela's thigh.
"Still hungry?" Hela purred.
Ushar leaned in and kissed her. The smell and taste of figs was strong. She pulled back from Hela for a moment and then leaned in and kissed Hela's ear. "Ravenous."
4
THE lamp guttered in the darkness. Ushar sat with her back against the wall, Hela's head resting between her breasts. She listened to the slow thump of Ushar's heart. It had been a long time since she'd felt so peaceful. She didn't want the night to end.
"Do you want more light?" Hela asked.
"No," Ushar said and brushed a hand across Hela's cheek. She yawned. "I can see you well enough. Besides, isn't Sin nearly set?"
Hela purred. "Soon enough." The beast was sated. For now. If Ushar looked at the lapis bracelet Hela had made her wear while they made love, she would have noticed the deep blue color had faded to clear.
"You live alone?" the singer asked.
Hela nodded. "Yes. And I have for quite some time." She turned her head and made eye contact with Ushar. "Until tonight, a
nyway."
Ushar smiled. Her fingers brushed through Hela's hair. "Did you have somebody?"
"Yes," Hela said and put her head back down to hear Ushar's heartbeat. Thump. Thump. Thump. Slow, healthy, beautiful. Hela sighed. "She lived with me for quite a long time. But she wasted away."
"I'm sorry, Hela," Ushar said.
"It happens. The crops are planted, they thrive, and then they're harvested. By loving, hungry hands, by insects, or by the ravages of drought. But there is always a harvest," Hela said.
Ushar's fingers paused for a moment, and then continued. "The harvest took my man," she said.
Hela dragged a finger across Ushar's belly. "You were married?"
"We were to be," Ushar's voice hitched. She let out a long breath. "He was harvested by Elam."
"Soldier," Hela sighed.
"Yes."
Hela shook her head. "I'm so sorry."
Ushar's fingers continued dragging through Hela's black tangles of hair. "As you said, we are all harvested. What was she like? Your companion?"
Companion, Hela thought. Such a passionless, sterile word. Minussah was not a companion. She'd been the love of Hela's life.
"She was--" Hela paused as she searched for words. When she found them, the tears found her too.
*****
The harvest. It wasn't disease or a god that killed her lover. It was mankind's most dangerous enemy--time.
Hela had been walking home after a market day celebration. After more than a century of walking through the streets of Ur, she knew every blind spot in the city. The alleys and streets were ingrained in her mind and she knew them as well as she knew the shape of her fingers, the touch of a caress, and the taste of mother river.
With Sin rising over the temple and the roar of drunken crowds echoing from the square, Hela had skipped her usual alley for another. For some reason she couldn't recall, she'd headed for the palace at the rear of the city. Torches lit the streets. The alleyways weren't choked with litter. Before Sin set, armies of slaves drifted through Ur and cleaned it. Hela loved her herd and it was at its height of power and influence.
Daemons of Garaaga (Children of Garaaga) Page 2
