Chapter Fifteen

While Luka was being chased wildly through the streets, Inanna sat contentedly aboard the ship sailing full sail, clutching the small, bulging cloth pouch at her waist.

Since she could offer no help with the voyage, after consulting General Hazas, she was granted a small measure of freedom. To prevent the duck tongues from spoiling, Inanna asked the soldiers for some salt and lightly cured the thin duck tongues. By nightfall, when they lit a fire to cook, she could roast a couple for a fresh taste.

After night fell, the Egyptian search efforts became exceedingly difficult. General Hazas anchored the ship at Abydos port downstream, as previously agreed with the prince, successfully gathering all the personnel involved in the operation.

The Bitado soldiers were iron-willed and efficient, refusing any rest or regrouping. They sailed straight into Lower Egypt overnight. By the grace of Queen Toa Isis, the search led by her loyal supporter, General Naekto, was perfunctory at best. The small boat easily passed through the checkpoint into the Great Green Sea, officially escaping to safety.

Once the situation stabilized, Prince Izmi finally felt at ease to question Kaerol. However, despite knowing the grim truth that Princess Midaven was burned alive by Isis □, Kaerol feared that revealing this would ignite a devastating war between the two nations and cause untold suffering. To protect innocent lives from being caught in conflict, she clenched her teeth and remained silent.

Kaerol’s bravery was extraordinary; her lips were sealed tight. Sitting at the stern, Inanna listened to the crackling sound of the whip, and while no one was watching, she secretly chewed on two duck tongues.

With Luka absent, no one was closely guarding her. She wasn’t foolish enough to jump into the sea; savoring the meat from the duck tongue bristles was perhaps the most delightful moment since her time crossing eras—apart from the whip’s sharp strikes on flesh.

Yet peace was fleeting. Soon, the prince summoned her to the front cabin.

The last time she saw this daughter of the gods in the market, Inanna had realized she was a fair-haired, blue-eyed European. But back then, she had only noticed her bust and thought: “Oh, Europeans can have flat chests too!”

Now, after the medic handed her the ointment for the whip wounds, Inanna carefully examined this unmistakable fellow time traveler and sighed: “Oh, it really is an A cup!”

But she wasn’t a man; a curious glance was all she granted. After all, considering her own inexplicable reduction in size after time reversal—her cup size not much different from this unconscious girl—she felt she had no grounds to look down on others.

What’s lost will surely be regained.

Kaerol’s back was a pitiful sight—bloodied and raw. The wounds had yet to be treated; blood soaked her entire body and seeped into the sheets beneath her.

Feeling sorry, Inanna sighed, took a clean cloth dampened with water, and wiped away the bloodstains. Then she carefully applied the medic’s ointment to each whip mark.

As she worked, she counted five lashes—like a crimson spiderweb wrapped across the back. The prince bore no mercy, but also did not intend to kill this precious hostage. He had used a fine bull tendon whip, not the barbed interrogation whip, already a show of restraint.

Perhaps due to the potent medicine, Kaerol gradually roused from the intense pain on her back. Upon opening her eyes, she was surprised to see a young girl tending to her.

Kaerol had studied archaeology in the 20th century, specializing in Egyptian and West Asian history, with no research on the farthest eastern civilizations. Yet she was perceptive enough to identify something unusual about Inanna's appearance.

“Are you East Asian?” Kaerol asked.

“Yes,” Inanna replied.

“In this era, East Asians shouldn’t be here—the Silk Road wouldn’t appear for another thousand years!”

“That’s right.”

Kaerol grabbed her shoulders excitedly: “Are you also from the 20th century?”

Inanna brushed her hand away: “No, I’m from the 21st century. And don’t try to cozy up to me—if the prince sees, it’ll be the end of me.”

Of course, this was all Inanna’s mental dialogue. Since she had no intention of revealing her identity to Kaerol, she wore a deliberately indifferent expression, seemingly unable to understand, much to Kaerol’s disappointment. Could this girl truly just be an ancient Eastern exile who had crossed continents?

At that moment, the cabin door opened. Prince Izmi stood there, his sharp hazel eyes scanning between the two.

Kaerol gasped and hastily grabbed the sheet to cover her chest. In the blink of an eye, the prince was upon them. Inanna set aside the ointment and knelt.

Seeing Inanna’s obedient posture, Kaerol, who regarded her as a kindred spirit, was clearly unable to accept it. But Izmi found her sullen demeanor pleasing: “Sukamum is my faithful servant. Daughter of the gods? How foolish to think you could win her over.”

Kaerol froze. The common Sumerian and Akkadian vocabulary compiled by modern historians spanned only seven pages. As a qualified archaeology student, she instantly realized Inanna was mute.

Inanna was immensely grateful for the prince’s timely arrival. Had Kaerol spoken more strange words, who knew if she might have inadvertently triggered the prince’s suspicion of her origins? She had no desire to relive past ordeals, not even in thought. Her restraint in recent days must not be ruined by this stubborn foreign girl.

Outside, excited shouts shattered the suffocating atmosphere. Soldiers cried out: “Bitado has arrived! They’re here!”

Bitado was a highland nation, renowned for building their fortifications atop perilous mountain peaks—natural fortresses. Even ordinary cities constructed auxiliary defenses, reflecting a populace deeply ingrained with the spirit of universal militarization.

Inanna gazed upon the southernmost Sharigale Sea port of Bitado, the kingdom’s newly established first maritime bulwark. Previously, Bitado’s naval power had been negligible, but with Egypt’s burgeoning navy and the rise of the Phoenician maritime city, naval strength had become urgent. Domestic merchants and Bitado’s iron monopoly also demanded robust sea route protection.

Sharigale Palace, nestled against the mountain, was cloaked by dense flora that rendered the port labyrinthine. Only after ascending hundreds of steps could one behold the majestic fortress walls.

Outside the gate, the Bitado king and queen led their courtiers to welcome their returning son. Kaerol winced in pain, clutching her back as soldiers urged her to follow the prince.

Knowing these two would be the ceremony’s focus, Inanna discreetly lagged behind by two steps, shadowing General Hazas. The general gave her a meaningful glance but, appreciating her tact, later took it upon himself to mentor her.

At that moment, a joyful voice rang out. Inanna’s vision blurred as a woman clad in a chunik long shirt and pleated skirt, draped with a heavy woolen cloak, fluttered like a bird toward the prince, seizing his hand. Her eyes shone with the fervent passion that surged like the waves behind the crowd.

Yet when this delicate, silver-curled maiden saw Kaerol’s pale beauty and golden hair, her expression darkened like a storm-tossed sea.

No one had time to dwell on her mood. The exalted royal couple approached the prince. Upon hearing the news of Midaven’s tragic death, the crowd’s grief and anger poured onto Kaerol. It was clear the Bitado king harbored other plans for this rare Egyptian beauty.

Inanna recalled the prince’s threat in the cavern and shuddered at the sight of the burly, bearded, lecherous-eyed king.

Because Kaerol was a vital hostage, even the resentful Bitado had to heed the prince’s strategy, ultimately deciding to imprison her. Meanwhile, Kaerol’s loyal guard, Unas, had infiltrated the Bitado ranks, preparing to seize the moment to rescue the daughter of the gods.

Inanna had few chances to interact with the prince lately. As a female slave with a modicum of his indifferent trust and some skills, her role was simply to watch over Kaerol.

She had to admire the prince’s foresight—this daughter of the gods was truly restless.

Kaerol had merely stepped out for water when she found a scrap of cloth to bind the bronze window frame. Wrapping a wooden stick in the cloth, she twisted it. The bronze window began to creak and warp.

Inanna stood at the door, amused. The girl’s knowledge was clearly amateurish; if she had dampened the cloth, its tensile strength and efficiency would have increased.

Yet she merely smiled and chose not to warn Kaerol. Compared to a foreign girl likely to drag her down, acceptance was a plan. Inanna turned to summon the prince.

Caught red-handed by Prince Izmi, Kaerol was dragged away, her wrist aching as if her bones might snap.

But Izmi showed no anger—only a deep gaze fixed on the disheveled daughter of the gods. He suddenly realized he might have overestimated Manphis. Kaerol seemed clever, not the mere puppet of Egyptian royalty he had suspected.

A spy who barely escaped death reported that the daughter of the gods knew iron forging secrets and had demonstrated such skills when Manphis king interrogated him harshly. This spy risked his life to inform the prince that Bitado’s secret black iron weapon, poised to dominate the future, might already be cracked by this small girl.

“Truly remarkable,” the prince murmured, touching Kaerol’s flawless, lotus-like face beside the Nile. “Stubborn and clever woman—I cannot let you go now.”

The silver-haired maiden who once admired the prince, Mira, now the queen’s attendant, appeared and upon seeing this scene, her face twisted into a storm of emotions. Standing nearby, Inanna, playing mute, could only silently recall the lyrics of the classic song “The Sea.”

On another day, beneath an apple tree in Hattusas, General Hazas, as Inanna’s mentor, asked why she refused the prince’s offer concerning the “Red River Goddess.”

Inanna said nothing but picked up a reed pen and inscribed in newly learned cuneiform on a clay tablet: A woman should not attract excessive attention; even the most ironclad name, spoken by millions, rusts in the breath it exhales.

This was the way of a Chinese woman—no one else in this era, except Inanna, had read Eileen Chang.

The Egyptian king wasted vast resources attempting to reclaim Kaerol from covetous nations; Queen Isis, famed along the Great Green Sea coast, fled after losing her brother’s love and power over Lower Egypt; and Inanna herself, though seeing through it all, could not escape the fate the river god had sent her to fulfill.