Chapter 14 - Eyes which scream
The Gardens of Eden. SW Asia.
A herd of grey-brown goats were driven between a cluster of buildings which together formed a farmstead. The shepherd boy waved his crook and whistled his dog. Tired but happy that his long day of labour was over. Following behind him was the sad figure of a refugee. Ittidu had attached herself to the flock in hope this lad might lead her to the company of others, before another cold night. She carried with her, a basket of sustenance, the kindness of a repressed woman of Babba.
It was in this small, agrarian village that Ittidu encountered a barbarian named Lultum. This peasant granted her sanctuary,
‘Food and shelter in return for the contents of that basket, along with a little honest labour’, the thin, balding one-eyed barbarian croaked as his offer.
At first, she'd believed herself wise to have bartered to keep hold of the fine blanket in the deal. Unfortunately, now she comprehends she'd been foolish to accept his offer. Food has transpired to be a stale biscuit for breakfast, and a miserly ration of porridge for supper. Shelter, a choice of sharing the lecherous old man’s cot, or to sleep with livestock under the lean-to behind his mudhouse. The little honest labour, translated into a long day of gruelling servitude which includes the husbandry and milking of livestock, weeding his wheat gardens, and cracking the corn between stones. This long day doesn’t end at sunset. Lultum has Ittidu serving him in his mudhouse. One evening his barbarian friends visited to share his weak beer. He tried to grope poor Ittidu and then bragged to his mates,
‘I’ve purchased a fine young breeding ewe for a bargain price’.
This was the revelation that Lultum views their agreement as a bond of her enslavement. Ittidu’s belly aches with hunger. She rubs at her abdomen, imagining herself as one of the sad women of the fields, naked or clad in a dirty scrap of animal skin. Toothless and aged far beyond true years. Ittidu understands she needs to regain her freedom, escaping this miserable existence, before she is too weak to fight off Lultum’s carnal demands.
Whereas the stinking old sod’s gropes grow more frequent, she discovered the wisdom of keeping his beer cup refilled. Tonight Lultum snores in his cot, and Ittidu can relax to feed herself. She fills her clay bowl with cracked corn, and dares to steal a mutton bone from Lultum’s broth gone cold. Ittidu carries this feast out, and around to the lean-to shelter.
Dog is here wagging his tail. Ittidu’s one true friend. Tasked to watch over their master’s beasts, the mutt is a fellow victim of Lultum’s mean nature. Ittidu fluffs up straw which smells of the stale urine of goats, this her bed for the night. She pulls her precious blanket over weary limbs, inviting Dog to join her for supper. With compassion, she shares her gritty porridge with her dinner guest. Once finished, Ittidu produces the mutton bone,
‘Don’t leave this treasure lying around for the morning, lest the master sees it for he’ll give us both a beating’. Ittidu gazes across her pauper’s palace at the sheep and goats, ‘You're preferable company to Lultum and you smell sweeter’.
She chuckles at her bravado, where has my father’s strength and resolve gone? She recalls that day on the drove, and his wise words, then her experience on Mallah’s reed boat on that later night,
“Seek out Nanna where he kisses his mother - in this world you may find that wherever the moon reflects from the waters”
Tonight, the moon god is full. Ittidu gazes up to the night sky and at the heavenly body. Silvers reflect from the surface of water held in a nearby flood pond. Ittidu sits up, and chants a sweet prayer to Nanna. Dog mistakes her actions as intent to steal back his precious bone, and moves from his benefactor.
Ittidu’s parched lips complete prayers, and she follows this by echoing her father’s words, ‘Wherever the moon reflects from the waters’. She studies the reflections from the pond’s surface. All thoughts begin to fade. Just silvery light. Ripples. Peace. Two beads spin around one another before they collide to fuse as one. Worlds exchange as the silvery light transforms into the shapes of another world.
A southern waterway. SE Britain
Ittidu becomes one with Ur’salla. Their spirits combine. Ittidu perceives all senses through the body of her far away moon-sister. She experiences the emotion of absolute dread. Using the eyes of her other, Ittidu gapes up to the same full moon. She cannot breathe. Her lungs sting with pain. In painful rebirth she lifts up Ur’salla’s face out of cold, putrid waters swirling around her form. Ittidu feels Ur’salla’s terrible discomfort, from being soaked in this cold water and from sores all over her body. Tight limits of rope have been placed, binding her in a foetal position. Ittidu grasps her situation. She lays tied and gagged in the bottom of a sinking, water logged coracle, as ingress of water threatens to drown. She has to twist up to gasp for precious air in a fight to survive. Water blows free from her nostrils. Air for aching lungs during a state of perpetual drowning.
Straddled above are the legs of a small female, perched above. Ittidu shares Ur’salla’s thoughts, to know this captor is Lanella. The rogue paddles some treacherous waterway. Ittidu observes a bullskin stretched over the wicker frame, a sole barrier between survival and deep waters. This cursed, rotting skin has been hastily prepared and leaks. Maggots float around the waters around Ur’salla’s face. Ittidu’s spirit knows that if this coracle capsizes, bound up this way, Ur’salla’s death by drowning is certain.
The coracle bumps and grinds with a spin to bring them up against some shore. Lanella leaps out helping brethren drag the coracle to dry ground. Eino tips the coracle up on its side, to eject foul waters along with their captive. Ur’salla’s body hits a stony beach, and Ittidu’s spirit shares the pain. The giant drags her bindings further away from the waters. The scarred man who Ur’salla knows is called Saabiaske, marches to where she now lays defeated. He unties knots permitting Ur’salla to rise to a kneel. Her numb and sore joints are stubborn, but the rogue barks,
‘On your knees Goshawk, and face down’.
There is no opportunity here for escape, Ur’salla does what she is commanded, as Saabiaske suspiciously slides behind. Ur’salla screams to Ittidu’s spirit,
This is my ending sister. This is my execution.
Ittidu lends strength and resolve, as one they'll face the journey, Better to die this way than in that sinking boat.
With Ittidu’s support, Ur’salla doesn’t cry. Together as one the sisters await the fall of a stone club across the back of the head.
It doesn’t arrive because this isn't her execution. The chatter of approaching men is heard. On the grass that Ur’salla focuses, the radiant light of burning torches flicker. Shadows move around her. Figures of strangers form a circle around as Ur’salla kneels in forced submission. A pair of heavy feet begin to thump. The dancer sings, strangled by intoxication. The moon sisters don’t understand these words.
Lanella speaks in a savage tongue, ‘They wish to see her eyes so the priest may assess her spirit’.
A strong pair of hands reach from behind, pulling at Ur’salla’s stubs of hair, cupping her chin to force an upwards gaze at the surrounding strangers. A strawman priest of the Leva, leans closer to stare into her eyes. Yet intoxicated, and in the luminosity of moonlight he fails to see that the captive’s eyes briefly switch from hazel, before returning to blue. The gag Ur’salla wears, muffles two screams within her throat. But Ur’salla’s own eyes betray she’s screaming and this appears to please the strawman priest.
Eden's Moon
Terror drives two beads apart. Ittidu’s essence is pulled by vacuum, and back into her own mortal body in a faraway world. Her own eyes of hazel open with a start, to see an enormous full moon over the Eden. Once more, she’s in the farm yard of Lultum. Lunar energy seeps into her wide open eyes to tranquilise, and this brings sleep.