Chapter 34

If one is not deeply interested in the history of Western Asia, many Chinese people probably first learned of the Mesopotamian plain through Jay Chou’s song “Love Before the Common Era.” Girls who read a great deal of manga, however, may have heard something about Babylon, that glittering city of desire which had been steeped in luxury and decadence for three thousand years.

Inanna was now living in the royal palace of Assyria, and after more than ten days of constant exposure, she had gained a far more tangible and direct understanding of the place.

The people here habitually referred to the Tigris and Euphrates together as the “Two Rivers.” Both rose in the Taurus Mountains of the Armenian Highlands within Hittite territory. The Tigris had the greatest flow in Western Asia, while the Euphrates was the longer and more distant in origin. Both flowed from northwest to southeast before merging at Qurna into the Shatt al-Arab, which eventually emptied into what is now the Persian Gulf.

In ancient times, the middle and lower reaches of these two rivers corresponded roughly to the territory of modern Iraq. The name “Mesopotamia” came from Greek and meant “the land between two rivers.” The northern part of the river basin was called Assyria, after the city of Assur, while the southern part was called Babylonia, after Babylon, whose name meant “Gate of God.” Babylonia was centered on Nippur and divided into northern and southern regions. The north was Akkad, while the south was Sumer, the cradle of one of the most splendid civilizations in history.

Because of its geography and climate, Assyria had no readily available timber or stone. Thus, apart from the palace and temples, every ordinary building Inanna saw was made of a pale, slightly brownish mud. The Assyrians mixed natural clay with reeds and shrubs to produce relatively sturdy sun-dried mud bricks, creating a city that was not especially beautiful, yet vast and overwhelmingly magnificent.

Stone such as limestone and marble did exist, of course, but it all had to be imported and was reserved for the king’s residence and temples dedicated to the gods. Inanna searched every room near the outer perimeter of the palace, including those occupied by low-ranking women of uncertain status who had not yet been summoned by Arion, but she did not find a single stone pillar. Clearly, Assyria’s building materials were impoverished to an extraordinary degree.

Inanna pretended to bask in the sun beside a wall. She plucked a large bundle of berry grass and held it in her arms, idly fussing with it while occasionally casting a flirtatious glance at the two guards on watch.

Her other hand, however, held her Swiss Army knife. She scraped and pried at the mud bricks, and it turned out that they really were nothing more than dried mud. The bonding material poured between the gaps in the bricks, made from rice paste, was considerably more durable. But against the tough metal forged by technology three thousand years in the future, these ancient methods were pitifully inadequate.

Inanna put away her tool with great satisfaction. From inside the room came the sound of a six-stringed cedar lyre from Hittite lands, accompanied by the crisp, tender voice of a young girl. Inanna, who possessed no particular talent herself, could not help longing to learn.

There was no other reason than this: the Hittite cedar lyre differed little from a modern guitar. Anyone with even a little musical foundation could master it with ease, even an adult like Inanna, who had no gift for instruments and stiff fingertips.

She had no idea what region the song came from. Inanna sat quietly to one side, listening to the simple, clear singing. From time to time, she picked up the wooden xylophone beside her and plucked at it a few times. All in all, she was having a wonderfully pleasant time.

At that moment, Arion was reclining in the palace. From his position high above, he could faintly hear the occasional notes of the instrument and fragments of song. Absentmindedly, he stroked the beauty in his arms, but his mind was occupied with Jomari’s unusually magnificent breasts, shaped like twin mountains. The thought made him even more listless.

He turned his head and asked the attendant beside him, “Has there been any word from Jomari?”

The attendant hurriedly nodded. “Yes, King Arion. Lady Jomari is currently in the Egyptian palace. I hear that King Menfuisu has treated her with great courtesy and occasionally asks her to dance for entertainment. Egypt has learned that the Daughter of the Nile was rescued by Your Majesty while passing through Assur. They are now busily preparing gifts and provisions, and the Egyptian king himself is coming as an envoy to express his gratitude.”

“Tsk.” Arion gave a contemptuous laugh. “They’ve all lost their minds, crawling into cages of their own accord. They had better not complain later. I never expected that mountain hen to be such a fine hostage. She has saved us a great deal of trouble. Is she behaving herself?”

The attendant gave a lecherous smile. “Very much so. Your Majesty truly thought of everything. Without clothes, where could she possibly run? No wonder there hasn’t been a single disturbance from the border to the city. In the palace where the Daughter of the Nile is imprisoned, she has neither clothes nor even a blanket or mat during the day. At night, a maid is chained to her and made to sleep beside her. It would take a miracle for her to escape!”

In theory, Arion should have been delighted to hear that Carol was living in such misery and without dignity. Yet his usually shameless face grew unusually troubled.

“What about Izmir?”

At the mention of Izmir, the attendant’s expression also fell. “Prince Izmir has spoken very little since regaining consciousness. His injuries have healed considerably, but that arrow passed straight through his chest. He will probably need at least a hundred days before he fully recovers. Still, his attitude has been good. He seems to have accepted reality, and I have seen no sign of ill intent. As for the women Your Majesty sent him, he has shown not the slightest interest.”

Arion was neither a Chinese emperor nor a Turkish sultan, so the rules governing his harem were not especially strict. But if any woman grew bold enough to commit adultery, punishments such as flaying, tendon-cutting, snake pits, and boiling were all carried out without hesitation. As a result, such incidents were actually rare.

Although Arion possessed considerable prowess in certain areas, his face was undeniably unremarkable. Ever since capturing Izmir, Arion had placed him under guard on the third floor of a palace not far from his own sleeping quarters. The building faced the balcony of Arion’s residence, allowing the king to keep watch at any time and see whether Izmir was behaving himself.

This arrangement proved a boon to the women of the harem. Who would not want to look at the famous beauty of the Great Green Sea? Arion’s palace suddenly became crowded with visitors. His women fawned over their master while indulging their intense curiosity by peeping at another man.

Arion thought maliciously: Izmir, don’t you claim not to like women? Don’t you refuse to touch them? Let them annoy you to death.

From then on, his balcony was open to women all day long, allowing them to chatter and pass judgment on Izmir. Once Izmir was able to leave his bed, Arion even graciously permitted him to take walks in the private garden beneath his residence. He encouraged his women to arrange “chance” encounters with the handsome man whenever they pleased, using fluttering eyes, full breasts, and plump hips to tempt this rather peculiar young fellow.

That was why the Assyrian palace was lively every day. Yet Arion’s plan to toy with Izmir never succeeded. Izmir treated every woman with perfect courtesy and possessed such a serene, moonlit elegance that even the boldest women felt embarrassed to flaunt themselves before him.

Arion was furious. He himself was a rotten banana and could not bear to see someone else fresh, glossy, and perfectly appetizing.

But his attention soon shifted away from Izmir, because his second prey arrived in Assur amid the thunder of horses’ hooves.

Oh, great god Ashur! If only such a beautiful boy were a girl!

The Egyptian pharaoh Menfuisu drove his chariot into the ancient, fertile, and prosperous city on the western bank of the middle Tigris. It was as though the sun god had followed him all the way from Egypt. The golden serpent crown glittered against his black hair, and the sunlight flashing from it was almost blinding.

Amid that dazzling radiance, his dark, luminous eyes, high and graceful nose, and beautiful lips capable of producing a resonant voice nearly made Arion’s knees give way beneath him and sent him tumbling from the battlements.

Damn it, he cursed inwardly. Ever since Jomari left, he had not found a single woman to his taste. Was he really losing his mind over a man now?

He blamed his lapse on the Egyptian king, who was as beautiful as a woman while being, inconveniently, a man. Then he ordered the attendants behind him to put a generous amount of something potent into the wine, hoping to make Menfuisu and the mountain hen a genuine pair of lovers bound together through adversity.

While plotting his mischief, Arion advanced with a broad smile.

“Welcome, welcome, King Menfuisu. I have heard so much about you. I have been eagerly awaiting this meeting!”

“King Arion, it is a pleasure indeed.” Menfuisu offered the customary words, but his voice could not conceal his urgency. “I am told that my queen was rescued by Your Majesty. Where is she now? Please allow me to see her first!”

Arion sneered inwardly. She was running around naked. How could he possibly let Menfuisu see her?

But aloud he said perfunctorily, “The Daughter of the Nile has suffered a terrible ordeal and is in fragile health. She is confined to her bed with illness. Why don’t you enter the city with us first, and then go to see her?”

Menfuisu was frantic with worry. He therefore led the several hundred soldiers accompanying him into Assur. Once inside, however, getting back out would not be so easy. Arion was already waiting with a great net spread wide.

Every guard and soldier in the palace had been summoned by Arion to the ceremonial hall, leaving the defenses in every other area considerably weakened. Inanna had already learned the prince’s exact location. She had Sauru obtain a set of clothes for her, disguised herself as a maid, and slipped inside.

Wherever there were women, there was gossip. And what was more, Izmir was a genuine star. It was ridiculously easy for Inanna to learn everything she needed about him.

Izmir noticed that the soldiers watching him had suddenly been reduced in number. He began to suspect that something important was happening in Assur and used the excuse of getting some fresh air to go outside and look around.

Unfortunately, the guards’ lips were sealed. He could not draw a single piece of information from them.

Another unusual thing was that the Assyrian women, who normally clung to him like flies whenever he appeared, had vanished without exception. It was as though every woman in the enormous city of Assur had disappeared.

That was the nature of idol worship. Once a fresh, handsome Egyptian king appeared, Izmir became yesterday’s flower.

Izmir slowly completed a circuit and was preparing to return when a petite figure suddenly rushed toward him. By then, he had grown accustomed to women who hurled themselves at him like living cannonballs. The soldiers were no longer surprised either. King Arion had ordered them that so long as no actual intercourse occurred, they were to help fan the flames whenever they saw a woman teasing the prince.

The prince was already troubled, and when a woman suddenly charged at him, he frowned and caught her by both shoulders, pulling her away from his body. Then he unexpectedly saw a familiar face.

Their eyes met. They remained frozen in place for quite some time—long enough for the soldiers to begin sighing to the goddess Ishtar that this prince, calm as an old impotent man, had finally come to his senses.

If they had seen the prince’s expression, they would not have thought so. Inanna clearly saw anger, helplessness, dejection, and astonishment flicker across his usually composed and tranquil face. The changes came so rapidly that she could only marvel.

Thinking that the prince probably would not strangle her on the spot for infiltrating Assur to rescue him, Inanna shed several crocodile tears. She looked as though she had just encountered her beloved and was overwhelmed with emotion, then buried her head against Prince Izmir’s chest once again and wrapped both arms firmly around his shoulders.

The passion and devotion in the gesture were so moving that even the soldiers nearby were touched.

At that tender, flower-scented moment, Prince Izmir suddenly said in a chilly voice, “You’re pressing on my wound.”

Inanna sprang away in fright. Only then did she remember that Luka had told her the prince’s shoulder had been pierced by an arrow. She released him as though shocked by electricity.

Unexpectedly, Izmir still held her against his chest. He stroked her black hair with an air of gentle affection. The soldiers automatically stepped farther away, remaining within sight but, with admirable discretion, refraining from disturbing them.

Biting lightly at Inanna’s ear, Izmir asked, “Where have all the women of Assur gone today?”

Inanna lowered her head and traced several words against his chest with one finger: the Egyptian pharaoh.

Izmir was extraordinarily perceptive. He immediately understood that Arion was using the name of the Daughter of the Nile to accomplish two objectives with one stroke. His gaze turned icy, and he ground out through clenched teeth, “What a brilliant scheme.”

Naturally. Otherwise, how could he have captured them both?

Inanna silently grumbled to herself. Then Izmir whispered, “Menfuisu has probably already fallen into the trap. Once Arion achieves his purpose, he will certainly move against the Daughter of the Nile and hold a ceremony to marry her as his queen.”

He had also guessed that Inanna must have disguised herself as a dancer to get inside. That was certainly more useful than the rough men under his command.

“As a humiliation, he will definitely make you and Menfuisu attend. Find a way to get close to me when the time comes.”

Then he cast Inanna a faintly disdainful glance.

“Make yourself presentable. Otherwise, you will not even get through the banquet hall’s doors.”

Author’s Note:

There will be a major scene tomorrow. At last, the moment my readers have been waiting for has arrived!

I have been far too busy these past two days to update on time, but tomorrow’s chapter will be an extra-long and exciting one. Please look forward to it!

The prince’s complete portrait is now on the cover.