Sisters
Fiction - by Carol Holland March
Her sister’s cries haunted Queen Inanna, invading her days and banishing any thought of charity for the petitioners crowding her throne room. She gazed at the sea of faces with their open mouths and beseeching hands but heard only the wailing from below. Even here, in her sanctuary, Ereshka’s pain muffled the sound of human voices.
With a wave of her hand, she dismissed the throng. The guards moved forward to herd the petitioners through the palace gates as Inanna descended from her golden throne. A guard parted the velvet curtain so she could enter the long corridor that wound around the inner wall of the complex, connecting the temples with the throne room. At the secret door in the stone wall that led to the city beyond, a lone figure waited, taller than the queen, swathed in gray, cloaked and hooded.
A rebuke rose in Inanna’s throat, but died unspoken. Even a queen did not scold a messenger of the gods. “Ninshubur, welcome. It has been long since we sat together in my chamber. Do you have a message from my father?”
A long-fingered hand pushed back the hood, revealing a solemn face with skin dark and shining as golden obsidian. “Not yet, my Lady. I come to serve.” She reached into the shadows and handed Inanna a traveling cloak, plain and simple, bearing none of the royal insignia.
Inanna threw the cloak around her shoulders. Ninshubur had always known what she needed.
Together they exited the dwelling through the secret door and set off through the streets of Uruk. They wandered in the marketplace teeming with color, where sweat mingled with cedar smoke and jasmine oil. Peasants milled around merchants extolling their goods, watched over by soldiers who would die at Inanna’s command. With no crown gracing her night-dark hair, Inanna passed unnoticed.
Ninshubur said, “This is a dangerous place, my Queen. Why do you seek the company of peasants?
“Even here her voice prevails.” Inanna pressed both hands to her head. “The shouting crowds and bellows of animals cannot conceal her voice.”
“She calls from the kur, the deepest region of the underworld,” Ninshubur said. “An unholy cry meant only for you. No spell or potion can silence her call.”
“I must find Ereshka or her pleas will drive me mad.”
Ninshubur lowered her lids, concealing the light pouring from her eyes. “She lives below, in darkness and pain. It was a vile deed when the gods exiled her for rebelling against their decrees, but there she must abide. You cannot change what your elders have sworn. To travel to her is madness. The way is guarded by demons, the path narrow and steep. You can appoint another to take your place. Perhaps the king. He can be spared.”
Inanna raised her royal head. They stared at each other. “The call is for me. To seek Ereshka is my destiny.”
Ninshubur pulled the gray hood over her face. They turned and started back to the palace.
From her throne, Inanna gazed at the assembled courtiers. Dumuz had not seen fit to attend the ceremony. After she declared her intention to her ministers, only a few days passed before the news spread throughout the city. All Uruk knew this was the day of descent, but Dumuz cared more for the affairs of state than his queen, preferring to spend his time with merchants and tax collectors. And whores. In her youth, she had chosen him, a young, vibrant peasant boy, and plucked him from the fields to be her consort. Now that he had grown slow and thick in the waist, he had forgotten the fervent coupling of their first years.
Inanna dismissed her dark thoughts. She rose. The courtiers parted into two lines to give her passage. Her royal robe dusting the tiled floor, she swept through the room, noting that her sons were also absent—most likely off hunting with their father. No matter. She did not need them to complete her task. Inanna emerged into the brilliant sunlight of the courtyard. Dust, roiled from the desert, coated her hair.
At the outer wall, the high priest stood flanked by his assistants. They would play their roles and enact the ritual as proscribed. The scribes sat cross-legged on the ground behind the priests, ready to enshrine on clay tablets the story of how the Queen of Heaven and Earth confronted the high priest and demanded he adorn her with the holy me, symbols of her authority.
It was all so tedious. She would demand her due. He would produce the me and place them upon her. He would escort her out of the city, to the cave near the great river. His magic would open the door to the kur so she could travel to Ereshka, disgraced in heaven, now Queen of the Underworld.
At the gate, Ninshubur appeared as if from a cloud of dust, and took a place behind Inanna. The priests intoned their incantations. Reverently, the high priest removed the holy me from the cedarwood box. First her crown. Then the short strand of lapis beads for her neck. Her ring. Her measuring rods. As the high priest lifted each item from the box, the officiating priests offered prayers for her safe journey. The box emptied, Inanna stood resplendent, adorned with the holy objects of her office, their magic encasing her in rings of protection that glowed with the light of a heavenly torch.
The high priest led Inanna through the city to the river and the sacred cave. Ninshubur followed close, the priests in line behind her. Crowds of citizens watched the spectacle, silent with respect as the Queen passed. When they reached the cave, guards held back the people. The river ceased its flow. No boats disturbed the tranquil surface. More prayers were offered. The priests raised their voices to plea for Inanna’s safe journey and the return of the holy me. The ritual went on and on until the last incantation faded into the heat of the day.
All was silent. Then, with a great grinding sound, the rock blocking the mouth of the cave rolled away and fell onto the sand, revealing the entrance to the kur. Inanna stepped past the priest and gazed into darkness. Sunlight warmed her back. A damp darkness chilled her face. None who made the journey to the underworld could return, but she was Goddess of Heaven and Earth. She would find a way.
Inanna drew in a breath as she turned toward the sunlit world to bid farewell to Ninshubur. “Fear not, my most faithful servant. I go to comfort my sister. If I do not return, tell my father where I have gone.” Ninshubur raised her hands and clasped them before her breast in blessing. Inanna turned back to face the lower world. She took one more breath of freedom and stepped over the threshold.
Enfolded by the warm breath of the earth, Inanna walked, using her inner vision to skirt sharp rocks and hissing scorpions. Slow, laborious hours passed before she reached the first gate.
“Inanna has come,” she called. “Let me pass.”
Neti, the Gatekeeper, cracked the voluminous wooden door inlaid with precious jewels and sacred writing etched with gold paint. He peered out of a crack so small Inanna saw only his nose and one eye. “Your sister knows of your coming. She gives you leave to enter but only if you surrender your crown.”
Inanna fingered her golden crown. Heat rose in her throat. Ereshka was a haughty one, but she had come this far. She removed the crown. The door opened wider. She handed the crown to Neti. With a withered hand, he snatched it. The door slammed shut. A bolt creaked over wood. The door opened wide. Inanna swept through.
At the second gate, Neti demanded her necklace. Blood suffused Inanna’s breast. How dare Ereshka strip her of the relics holy to the gods? They were rightfully hers, as decreed by the high priest of Uruk, but she had come this far. She unclasped the beads. The gate opened.
At each gate, the ritual repeated. Seething with resentment, Inanna parted with the holy me. At the last gate, she surrendered her gown. She passed through the last gate naked and shivering to find herself in a dim room with a mud floor where her sister, wearing filthy, tattered clothing, squatted beside a trickle of dirty water.
Ereshka rose, towering over Inanna. “Why have you come?”
“To answer your call, my sister. To ease your pain.”
Ereshka’s laugh grated Inanna’s skin. “You have ruled heaven and earth, in sunlight and plenty, with husband and children and adoring subjects. Now you remember the one deemed unworthy of the light. Why is that?”
“Your suffering would not permit me sleep or rest or any pleasure,” Inanna said, knowing her earthly wiles were useless here.
“What do you know of my life? How can you pretend to understand my grief?” Opening her cavernous mouth wide, Ereshka roared her pain. She fixed on her sister the eyes of death. “You will suffer with me for all time,” she shrieked.
Inanna fell to the mud floor.
Burning heat consumed Inanna. Then ice descended, encasing her. She could neither move nor speak. She hung on a wall, her long hair wrapped around a crude peg. Insects buzzed at her mouth. Cackling, a spider crawled across her chest. Only one point of light remained in her inner vision. Inanna clung to it. With her last strength, she sent a desperate message through the layers of dirt and rock to the upper world. She called to Ninshubur, who sat on the bank of the river outside the entrance to the underworld, arms around her legs, forehead resting on her knees.
Dressed in her regalia as Lady of the Evening, Ninshubur stared into the face of Enki, god of water, ruler of Eridu. He was her only hope. “Your beloved daughter, Inanna, has ventured to the kur to comfort her sister.”
Enki frowned and gestured to his empty chair. “I have been too restless to sit on my throne. I knew my headstrong child was in danger. For three days, I could not rest. I have not eaten or drunk. My wife complains. The cries of my subjects are like gnats buzzing. But the underworld? No, Lady, I cannot venture there.”
“The gatekeeper holds the holy me as ransom. Without their magic, our realm will melt into the swampy regions.”
Enki snorted. “She stole them from me, if you recall.”
Ninshubur nodded. “The time had come for her to rule the land from Uruk. You know that. You also know that without the me, you and all the mighty gods of your family line lose the power to rule this land.”
Enki paced across the stone floor of his throne room. “The me are the key to our kingship. Without them, the agreement between gods and men is void. They must be returned. Inanna must return.”
“Can you send galla to her?” Ninshubur asked. “They are small enough to pass through the cracks in the gates. Even the gatekeeper would not notice their presence.”
Enki nodded and sat down heavily on his chair. “The magical beings are the only chance. I will fashion two and send them with the water of life, and my prayers.”
“And mine,” Ninshubur murmured.
Staring into the point of light, fearful of turning from it and losing herself entirely, Inanna glimpsed two tiny creatures enter the chamber where her body hung from a peg. They must have come from Enki. Only he commanded the tiny magical ones. Go to my sister, she thought to the creatures. Tell her I grieve with her. Tell her she will no longer abide alone in this dark place. I have made my way here, and the way will remain open. Tell her I swear these things.
Ereshka wailed and pounded the floor. “I am alone,” she cried. “Without friend or consort, without family.”
The galla wailed with her. “You are alone,” they chimed. “Your pain is terrible. We feel your agony. Let us cry with you as your sister did. Ereshka, let us comfort you.”
Ereshka beat the ground with her fists. She did not see the galla hovering near her head, but their sympathy warmed her.
“There is no comfort for me. The gods who hate me consigned me here. Inanna hates me. Who are you to creep past my gates?”
The galla raised their voices louder. “Enki sent us, but we obey Inanna. She loves you, Ereshka, and swears you will no longer be alone. She has made a passage from above and it will remain open if you restore her to life.”
Ereshka ceased her wailing. In her inner vision, the hovering galla appeared as tiny whirling lights. “My rage killed Inanna.”
“And your compassion can restore her.”
The concern of the galla softened Ereshka. She remembered how she and her sister played as children on the riverbank, how they rejoiced in their love for each other. Remembering those times, she found pity.
“You are my only sister,” she whispered to the corpse on the peg. She wept for all the lost years, and her weeping sent a great gust of her breath over Inanna. Ereshka permitted the galla to sprinkle on Inanna’s body the water of life they carried from the upper world. Warmth flowed into the frozen corpse. Sight returned. Inanna stirred. She rose from the peg.
Ereshka gazed at her sister. “Your creatures eased my pain.”
“My sister.” Inanna grasped Ereshka’s hands. “I have lived a life of light and beauty at your expense. I have not the power to take you to the upper world, but if you allow me to leave, I will return. I will heed your voice. In all my affairs, your wisdom will join mine.”
Ereshka embraced Inanna. “For that gift, you may return. Tell the gods I still live in this dark prison where they threw me. I do not repent my actions, but if they in the upper world can hear my wisdom, that will comfort me. Henceforth, the passage between our kingdoms will remain open. As long as you do not forget me.”
“You will not be alone,” Inanna swore. “Each year, I will return or send another in my place to attend to your needs. I ask only that you grant me one of your powers.”
Ereshka smiled at her sister. “What power do you require?”
Inanna beckoned. Ereshka bent down so Inanna could whisper in her ear.
The sisters embraced. When Inanna was ready to depart, Ereshka ordered Neti to open the gates. As she passed each portal, Inanna received back into her care one of the holy me. She placed them carefully upon her person and resumed the long trek back to her world.
Inanna stepped into the bright sunlight of a summer afternoon. With flowing eyes, Ninshubur greeted her.
Inanna embraced the messenger. “You pleaded with Enki on my behalf. I am in your debt, Lady.”
“Your father loves you. He fashioned the galla to save you.”
“Did Dumuz weep during my absence?”
When Ninshubur turned her face away, Inanna knew the truth.
In Uruk, Dumuz lounged on the golden throne, enjoying platters of dates and goblets of wine. When he saw Inanna, he scrambled down and bowed low. “My wife, at last you have returned. Your beautiful face enraptures me. How may I serve?”
He was such a fool. Thinking her stupid. In their youth, she didn’t mind, but now, all had changed.
“Come closer,” Inanna said. During her absence, he had grown even thicker in the waist.
Dumuz licked his lips.
Inanna beckoned him. “Once I chose you as my husband. Now I choose you again, this time as my substitute. You will descend to the kur and for half the year be husband to Queen of the Underworld. She will enjoy your sturdy body. She will bear your children. You will do her bidding. This I decree.”
His skin darkened. Eyebrows joined into a single line across his forehead. Dumuz reached for the long knife hanging from his jeweled belt. “I am king. I rule here now.”
Inanna laughed. This was so much more interesting than suffering the public pity of a neglected wife.
Dumuz stepped forward, knife raised, lips stretched into a hideous smile.
Inanna laughed again. She raised her head, straightened her shoulders, and turned upon her husband the eyes of death.