The horse was ridden by a woman possessed, and looked it...foam-flecked, nostrils flaring, and drops of spittle streaming from the poor beast. And as for the state of the rider--unspeakable. The half-naked creature rode, blood-red, sweat-soaked tangles falling to the waist, and eyes like the threat of a storm or the fury of a God.
She barely thought to pause, to water the horse, to feed herself...she did these things automatically, without thought, her mind had none. It was habit and instinct alone that guided her, now.
WHen the city of Uruk lay before her, she was reminded of the time of Gilgamesh...of the time of Dmuzzi. There was a time when this city lie, vulnerable, so easily wasted by a handful of men who possessed only the will to destroy. Now, in the time of Sargon, the cities stood strong--Uruk, Agade, even her own home of Nippur. Had she really helped to build this house? Yes.
And could she destroy it?
Yes.
She tied her horse to a fig tree and lay in the heat of the sun outside the walls of the city, and waited for night fall. She slept the sleep of the just. She dreamed of blood.
******
It was not so long, not so very long ago, that Sharrukkin had welcomed her into the palace, and they spoke as friends. Perhaps it was twenty years, surely not more. It stood now as it did then...a place of bricks...cold, forbidding, she always thought. Can people who sleep in such places know the gods?
She met with a guard. He died easily, his throat cut like that of a sacrifice. His blood ran out onto the ground...her offering to gain entrance. She scaled the wall, knowing exactly with chamber held her own. She slipped through the casement, soundlessly.
He was awake. His eyes were round, luminous in the moon-light.
"Anna? Is that you?"
She closed her eyes and felt her heart beat naturally for once.
"My love, I had to find you...I had to say 'good-bye'..."
But then she heard the sound at the door, and realized that this "good-bye" might be only too real.
Posted on Aug 22, 1999, 9:37 PM from IP address 207.103.118.134