Chapter Five

Inanna pressed her entire body against the outer stone wall, crouching on the small ledge, straining her ears to catch every sound from within, desperate to discover the identity of these unexpected intruders.

If they were good people, she would jump out and plead for help; if her luck was poor, she might be forced to spend the entire night shivering in the freezing wind. At this thought, Inanna gritted her teeth in frustration at these inexplicable newcomers.

"Prince, be careful," came a young, raspy voice, accompanied by the thudding of footsteps. It seemed someone had squeezed through the opening from the outer chamber into the inner one.

Inanna froze. She couldn't identify the language they were speaking, yet she somehow understood it, though with great difficulty. She had to pause for a heartbeat to process the meaning, much like listening to a foreign language exam—she could grasp the words, but because it wasn't her mother tongue, her brain had to labor to decode it. Not to mention, this was a language Inanna had never heard before; even if a river god had granted her some supernatural fluency, her human brain couldn't adapt so quickly.

Inanna blinked, only then realizing there was a prince among this group. A prince? She had only ever seen Arab princes or European royals online, but given her bizarre and unfortunate situation, could this perhaps be a prince from some minor asteroid in the galaxy?

She clung desperately to the rock wall, not daring to peek. She could only squint, and in the dim light of the room, she saw only the hem of a snow-white robe dragging on the floor, tinted a pale yellow by the dancing firelight. Inanna convinced herself that since he was wearing a robe, he must be an Arab prince. Although the Arab royal families had many children, they were all famously attractive. Once she confirmed it was safe to emerge and ask for help, perhaps she could even take a selfie with the handsome prince. With these wild fantasies, she momentarily forgot the bone-chilling wind.

"Luca? Is this your home?" a clear, melodic male voice asked. The sound was like the bubbling of a mountain stream, rhythmic and resonant. Even a simple question sounded like the recitation of a beautiful poem, yet beneath the words lay a sense of noble authority that made one feel an almost irresistible urge to kneel at his feet.

As Inanna thought this, someone indeed knelt. The young attendant named Luca dropped to his knees with a crisp thud at the prince's feet and replied, "Your Royal Highness, my master, thank you for your gracious visit."

The prince showed no sign of telling him to rise, continuing his inquiries: "How is it that I have seen no other signs of life along the way?"

Luca hurriedly looked up to answer: "Your Highness, a month ago, when I received your order to depart for Hattusas, passing Assyrian merchants reported to the administrator that they had discovered traces of remnants of the Hurrians (the Mitanni Kingdom, already destroyed by the Hittites) in the east. The administrator made a prompt decision, ordering everyone to take all harvested grain and fruit to the underground fortress before the arrival of winter, so as to prevent the year's yield from being plundered by the Hurrians."

The prince remained silent, but an older male voice spoke up: "Luca, you are too timid. The Prince does not blame you. The administrator did this as a precaution. If the Hurrians had come to plunder and left, what would you have used to pay tribute to the royal city this year? The King is most fond of the wine produced here; if it all fell into the mouths of the Hurrians, would he not be furious?"

Luca hurriedly agreed, but the prince was not concerned with grapes. "With everyone gone to the underground fortress, is there anyone tending to the pigeons?"

"Yes, yes," Luca said, pointing outside. "This place is a relay station for the carrier pigeons used by our kingdom's scouts. I instructed the administrator to send men daily to maintain the Pigeon Valley, count the birds, and ensure the feed is stocked. Please rest assured, Your Highness."

He bowed low again, his forehead pressed against the sandy floor, feeling he had finally fulfilled his duty to the prince.

Inanna finally understood the words and realized with a start that the large stone "honeycomb" outside was a pigeon coop. However, the young man’s excessively subservient attitude, combined with the fact that spies were still using carrier pigeons to transmit messages in this day and age, struck Inanna as deeply wrong. Her body stiffened, and she slowly retreated, curling up on the small stone ledge outside.

But she did not realize she had already left a trace.

After a long silence, the prince asked Luca again, "Has everyone gone to the underground fortress?"

"Yes," Luca replied, confused. "The administrator verifies the count during relocation and requires the garrison to ensure not a single person remains in the village, so as to prevent the Hurrians from capturing anyone and leaking the location of the underground city. Furthermore, until next spring, no one is allowed to leave the underground city, except for the soldiers assigned by the administrator to tend to the pigeons and collect pigeon droppings for fertilizer."

The prince nodded but glanced toward the wall. Luca found this strange and looked over as well; if General Hazas hadn't signaled him with a look, he would have cried out in shock. He had just reported to the Prince that the place was empty, and now he was immediately contradicting himself.

The Pigeon Valley was arid. Even if he had forgotten to clean his home a month ago, any water left in the jars should have dried up long ago. Yet, the jar resting against the wall was still there, and on the floor was a wet patch—clearly from water that had been poured out recently.

Luca swallowed hard, forcing himself to remain calm. He knew his home best, and since it was barren, there was only one place for an intruder to hide. Since the exit was already guarded by soldiers, the uninvited guest had to be outside the cave, on the very ledge where he usually tended the pigeons.

He looked at the prince and, seeing him nod, moved like a nimble deer bounding across a cliff. He approached the cave entrance with a bronze short sword in hand, making not a sound—a testament to his rigorous training.

Inanna was racking her brain, trying to figure out how to survive the night. No matter how she pulled her clothes around herself, the cold wind poured into her collar like a blower, and she was already numb with cold.

Just as Inanna blew into her hands for warmth, she failed to sense the danger looming beside her. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the collar, dragging her inside as easily as if she were a chicken.

In the face of life and death, she reacted with lightning speed. The moment she was thrown to the ground, she rolled forward, dodging the cold, sharp edge of a bronze dagger, and blindly grabbed a bundle of dry firewood stacked by the wall to block the second strike that followed.

The bronze blade was not sharp enough to cut through the firewood, but the force behind it was heavy, knocking the frail Inanna flat onto the floor.

Inanna lay on her back, gasping for air, stars dancing before her eyes. She couldn't see who her attacker was, nor did she have the strength to crawl away; she simply waited for the final blow. But at this critical moment, her stomach let out a series of rebellious, loud growls.

She heard a man’s laughter: "Stop, Luca."

Inanna realized the man trying to kill her was the homeowner. On second thought, if this were America, a homeowner would have the right to shoot an intruder, so her death wouldn't exactly be unjust.

Luca looked at the prince with concern, not understanding why he wasn't allowed to finish the job. With the remaining Hurrians eyeing their country like tigers and the second heir to the throne, Princess Midaven, missing in Egypt, the empire was beset by internal and external troubles. A suspicious person appearing in the middle of the night like this should be eliminated to prevent future complications.

Inanna knew clearly that her life had been temporarily spared; perhaps there was room for negotiation. She tried to push herself up from the floor, but her hands came away wet. She realized the jar she had filled earlier had leaked, and this must have been what gave her away.

Inanna glared at the young man standing above her, who still refused to lower his blade. He looked dissatisfied, as if being prevented from killing her was a great grievance. She wanted to curse him for being a penniless wretch whose only jar had a hole in the bottom. But the words stuck in her throat, just like someone who had studied English for years but couldn't bring themselves to speak.

As she stood there with her mouth half-open, at a loss, the soft, elegant male voice spoke, sending a chill down her spine: "Luca, let me see her."

Without waiting for Inanna to protest, Luca grabbed her by the hair and dragged her toward the prince. The "prince" stood in the shadows. Inanna's scalp burned with pain; she couldn't see his face or his expression, only the long, gold-trimmed white robe that trailed to her feet. She grew inexplicably afraid.

She heard the man before her say to the older man at his side, "Bring a torch."

A squad of soldiers immediately ran in and secured the cave entrance. "General Hazas, the torch you requested."

The old general didn't wait for the prince's further instruction. He had Luca pin Inanna’s limbs, then grabbed her chin, forcing her face toward the prince. He held the torch less than a finger's length from Inanna's face. Terrified, Inanna thrashed, but she was no match for the strength of two men.

She was too scared to even scream. The heat of the torch seared her skin, as if it were about to scorch her flesh. Inanna opened her eyes wide in horror, tears welling up in her large, clear eyes, yet she refused to let them fall.

She watched as the prince condescendingly leaned down, coldly looking her up and down. He scrutinized her face repeatedly and had General Hazas check the hands and feet she had hidden inside her clothes.

Inanna was paralyzed with fear, knowing she had to cooperate, or else these three inexplicable men and the squad of soldiers who had rushed in—each armed with a sword—could run her through in an instant.

And the prince—she finally saw him clearly. She saw his silver hair, which rivaled the moonlight outside, his tea-colored eyes, which were more lustrous and flowing than amber, and a smile on his lips that was colder than the night wind in the canyon.

For the first time in her life, Inanna saw a man like this: at first glance, he stirred the heart; at the second, he chilled the soul.