Her eyes smouldered a deeper blue like wet reeds from the riverbed set to smoke out the vermin on a hot summer's day, and for a moment, even Manishtusu forgot his bombast. She was stiff-necked, but he would make her see reason. Why would she not simply let go? This was what they had agreed upon, after all--the child was his. He had been raised among women long enough...it was time he saw his inheritance. It was time he saw what he was--a son of kings.
But Anath-Sin saw another story--his foolishness. What made him believe that any should know better than herself what should be done with the boy? He had attained seven years of age, and was still learning--everything he did delighted her. Who was the Prince, but her pawn? He was not the boy's true father--even Manishtusu, for his ignorant ways, should be able to see that! HOw then, was the boy so pale, and eyes as light as her own...there was nothing to compare!
"And you see that Sharrukkin his grandfather does love you both," Manishtusu went on, but she half-listened. Of course Sharrukkin would love the child for her sake. She went on bended knee before him and spilled the story out to him, Sharrukkin, who alone knew her own secret! What king could have been more certain of the Goddess' favor than Sharrukkin, who had her very ear! And when she told him of how she found Naram-Sin, he roared with laughter--was this not the self-same fiction she had invented to cover up his shame, as the son of a temple whore? There was the pity...that a real man like Sharrukkin should begin to fail, and such unworthies as Rimush and Manishtusu should take his place. Even now they strove over the land--and the King not yet dead.
"And, in his love for us both, does he not care for the child--how he is to learn? How he is to be brought up?" she asked. Manishtusu rolled his eyes heaven-ward-- would the Gods not spare him this? The child was to be his heir...so long as he was brought up loyal to Agade, what did it matter? Sharrukkin was dying, and the dynasty must go on.
"He has always honored his word to you--even by your appointment, even though your family is unknown, he favored you in this, Anath-Sin," Manishtusu answered. "Now it is your turn to honor an agreement. Surrender the boy to me."
Her face colored. This impudent whelp could not begin to know the favors that went behind her appointment here...she had given plenty to the kingdom. Her knowledge, her experience...her arm in conquering, her voice in counsel. He could not know what she was.
BUt all Manishtusu saw was a stiff-necked fox-b---h that should know by now that she was beat.
"You know the penalty for denying me."
She did. It was as written.
Death.
She hung her head. It was over...she must allow him the boy. She was certain of one thing, however...this was not the end of it.
"I know," she said, then, slowly. "I know the penalty. You shall have him, to raise in your house. And you may believe he will forget me--I tell you he won't! I will bring him myself to Uruk, and there you will show him your palace, your temples even to rival these at Nippur...but I will know, and he will know...and I will let you know, Manishtusu--he is still mine."
And with that, she rose and left him there, his mouth agape. And she descended down the steps into the lower chamber, to see the light of her eyes, Naram-Sin.
Posted on Aug 16, 1999, 11:53 PM from IP address 207.103.93.69