Chapter 24 - Šamkat's Empire
City of Anna. SW Asia.
Encrusted eyelids break their seal to find senses dazzled by decadent surroundings. Flashback memories of last night’s merriment tease at Ittidu’s conscience. Some revelation of Tabell had occurred, or was it her own actions that await the disgrace of redemption?
The mud brick chamber is small, square and functional as a room within this grand compound structure. An open window onto a sunny court through which Ittidu can hear the prattle of busy women as girls dally with simple songs for repetitive work. A table supported by bricks of clay supports a beaker of water and a small cup. It isn't these simple items of modern function that shocks her frazzled senses but the decor of richly patterned textiles carpeting the floor and decorating the walls. Their woven designs impact on Ittidu’s sensitive vision with their zigzags, chequers, bucranium and triangles.
Weaving is well known as a magical art across our universe. Be it the wicker and baskets of our savage world, or here with these new latest textiles of civilisation. The interlacing of yarns to knit is regarded as quite sacred.
Here in the new civilisation of Anna, sheepskins remain as a popular item of clothing. The rural barbarians of Eden simply go naked on hot days, or don a sheepskin around their waist. Equally this is the shared custom of the poorer citizens of Anna. Egalitarianism diminishes within civilisation. The more affluent citizens flout their new found status by wearing the new fabrics of weave. They introduce fashion among those who can afford it. Merchants seize opportunity to compete in the rising markets of fibres. A popular crop of Eden’s fields produces linseed alongside fibres spun into a yarn to make linen.
In addition to this basic product, shepherds of hillsides now select beasts that sport fine hairs of an inner coat. These animal fibres prove to be softer, more weather resistant, and easier to dye. It’s this new craze among elites for the revolutionary textiles that’s the source of Šamkat’s wealth.
The patterns Ittidu witnesses are samples of Šamhat’s wares. A display of woven revolt, the magic of her dyes and weavers. Surrounded by this madness, Ittidu struggles to remember last night’s merriment. Anna, the City. The party in this compound. The matriarch herself is the grand mistress of this house. Servants pampered them as honoured guests. Platters of fruits and tasty meats, served as dancers entertained. Throughout the evening more guests took turns with an introduction. Each guest would be regaled with the story of the Lion. With each retell, more drama would be added to her legend.
Out of her cot Ittidu climbs to find her old sheepskin replaced with fur. This she wraps around herself before quenching her thirst. She steps to the open window and contemplates the pig-tailed women there, skillfully weaving their geometric patterns. Behind them stand apprentice girls using new lightweight spindles to make yarn for dyes. These girls are the source of the industrious but sweet songs and they make a more welcome sight than a courtyard of guard dogs and unfriendly servants.
Her observations are disturbed when a serving girl enters. A young woman of similar age to Ittidu, with tumbling locks of dark hair, and large, high-spirited eyes of chestnut brown. She wears a skirt of plain linen, and nothing else. A friendly voice accompanies her lovely face when it announces,
‘Good morning Miss Ittidu. My name is Sagmi and I have been tasked by the Lady of this House to serve your needs’.
A thin, brittle smile cracks Ittidu’s features which Sagmi recognises as symptoms of excess, ‘If you would permit, I can fetch some amazing powders which might aid your joyful experience of this beautiful day?’
‘If it's no trouble’ Ittidu sheepishly responds.
‘Miss Ittidu, I’m here to serve you and it would be my pleasure’.
The potion is fetched and consumed. Ittidu is pleasantly surprised to find the potion refreshes her mood. Sagmi cheerfully reports, ‘I’ve taken the liberty of commissioning the bathing pool for your use’.
Before Ittidu can protest, Sagmi takes her hand and leads her out into the corridor. They walk barefoot until a sight from an open doorway freezes Ittidu to the spot. It reveals a large cot supporting three male bodies together in sleep like slipper limpets. Two of these males wear makeup on their faces, while the one in the middle, Ittidu, recognises as her saviour, and handsome prince of the desert, Tabell. The revelation of the prior evening comes into focus. Her crush and friend is one of those who prefer the flesh of their own sex. These are among the pleasures his cousin could procure once business had been concluded.
Sagmi squeezes Ittidu’s hand then peaks into the doorway to see what caught the attention of her charge.
She cheekily whispers to Ittidu, ‘I divine with fair certainty Master Tabell will benefit from my powders’.
Sagmi struggles to restrain her girlish giggles and drags Ittidu further down the corridor. In the labyrinth of the compound, they pass through a hall inhabited by several guests and entertainers who had failed to vacate last night. The serving girl continues to titter as they tiptoe around more casualties of excess. Through another doorway Sagmi leads Ittidu outside to a small courtyard. No weavers nor spinners here, but maids pouring pots of warm water into a floor recess.
This luxury of being bathed by others seems idle to Ittidu. Since Hulla washed her as a small child, she maintained her own hygiene bathing in Nammu’s irrigation channels. Ittidu feels reluctant to be pampered and mutters polite protests but to no avail. Sagmi strips away the fur and leads her down a few steps into the pool.
The serving girl insists, ‘Please Miss Ittidu. This is the new civilised way’.
Once scrubbed and spoiled Ittidu steps out of the bathing pool. She permits Sagmi to rub her long hair with the fur. Ittidu spots a figure of a woman emerge from the shadows of a cloister from where she'd been watching her bathe. Šamkat appears so perfect and untouched by last night’s debauchery. Already her copper-dyed hair is plaited to perfection.
Nudity is a daily sight across the gardens of Eden. Ittidu herself is no stranger to it, and no prude. Such shame has yet to be invented by misogynist priests of the future. Yet in front of this modern citizen, Ittidu experiences an unease. Unconsciously she wraps protective arms around her small breasts. Sagmi knows and kindly fetches a clean linen to wrap around her. Only now does Ittidu remember her manners.
Ittidu bows to Šamkat and with a humble voice, ‘Šamkat my Lady. I wish to thank you for your kind hospitality in lending me your maid’.
Painted lips purr, before Šamkat responds with a forced smile, ‘You’re most welcome. Ittidu, I would have enjoyed showing you off to the City and introducing you to its many pleasures. Unfortunately work cruelly demands my attention. Perhaps Sagmi can be your escort for today?’
Before Ittidu can even respond, Šamkat instructs her maid, ‘Sagmi I want you to show off our guest at the sanctuary. You know what to do. Take Ittidu to my wardrobe, I want her to wear that magnificent lion hide, and the bracelet of claws. I’d like the citizens to see we host a famous lion-slayer!’
Šamkat swirls out of the courtyard as Ittidu and Sagmi both bow in submission. Again, the maid takes Ittidu’s hand but this time she leads her deep into the labyrinth upstairs to the wardrobe of her mistress. Ittidu can hardly believe the luxury of this room. Rows of fine dresses, skirts and robes. Sagmi selects a colourful patterned tunic to dress Ittidu. Its soft almost transparent fabric clings to her gentle curves as neither sheepskin nor flax linen could. Sagmi sits her on a stool where she can brush her hair, and use Šamkat’s cosmetics to paint her face.
When Sagmi fetches the lion coat, Ittidu expresses concern, ‘That pelt would be difficult to bear in the sun of this day’.
Nevertheless Sagmi demonstrates her skills as a tailor by pinning it back as a cape to hang from Ittidu’s shoulders so cool air can pass the fine weave of the tunic. She places the brutal bracelet onto Ittidu’s wrist before requesting,
‘One more final touch Miss Ittidu’. Sagmi fits an elegant headdress onto Ittidu’s crown. Copper discs and jewels shine around its band. A fine chain of yellow metal links passes through hoops. Its centrepiece is a blue stone that has been finely sculptured into the seal of Šamkat.
Sagmi asks Ittidu to stand as she moves around to appreciate her art. Ittidu is beautiful. Sagmi claps her hands with achievement excitedly announcing,
‘Just as the Mistress requested. Miss Ittidu you really are a princess of Eden. A fusion of both the desert wilds, and of this City of Anna!’
Ittidu is led to the compound gates where she is greeted by a small procession of servants awaiting her. Man-servants blush while maids suppress their approval. Ittidu feels embarrassed to be centre of attention, and clever Sagmi reassures her,
‘Miss Ittidu, this pomp is intended as smart business for my mistress and her house. She wants Anna to notice you, so relax and enjoy the fame. Tomorrow, the City will no doubt have another story’.
Civilisation beckons for its beautiful lion-slayer, and the procession moves along the streets. Ittidu sees more large compounds nearby. Beyond these she can see busier streets where small shacks of reedsheet and dried mud crowd on top and next to each other. She can see all streets rich and poor snake towards the holy sanctuary, home to the City gods. The procession of Šamkat reaches the outer sanctuary where beggars rush up to the girls, full of praise for their mistress.
With genuine empathy in kind eyes, Sagmi barks an instruction to the manservants, ‘Alms of bread as a commonwealth!’
Ittidu only has smiles to give away. She sees one withered crone cradling a crisscrossed lamp.
The woman croaks as her sales pitch, ‘It imprisons the wind-ghost of an enslaved genie!’ Her sisters cry out, desperate to trade away their own religious talismans to pilgrims. The procession reaches the walls of the sacred inner sanctuary. They climb limestone steps to reach a white paved terrace. Temple guards prevent the ingress of beggars and hagglers.
The captain calls, ‘No noisy livelihoods of either charity nor commerce beyond this point’.
On the flat white terrace of the inner sanctuary, they view three religious buildings. Sagmi instructs the other servants to wait outside as she alone escorts Ittidu into the temples.
The first of the buildings is no more than a small chapel. Outside it's visibly in need of a rebuild. Its plaster of lime wash cracks across a crumbling clay brickwork.
Before they enter, Sagmi tells her charge, ‘An ancient swine spirit dwells within this old house. We know her as Urush-Unug. A once popular earth-mother who dies and rebirth herself each winter solstice. Sadly her cult is in decline’.
Together they enter the chapel. Ittidu is sad to see the interior cracks as much as outside, while dust gathers disrespectfully. Here in this civilisation, fashion heralds the contradictory death of an immortal. The decaying effigy of a soon to be forgotten goddess sits in a recess of the far wall. A Pig-mother with eight prominent nipples. Her throat cut open beneath a relic face of peeling paint. Large pig eyes stare down onto an altar bare but blood stained. A pair of clay leopards guard her trotter feet each flank of her recessed throne. The two girls place a sacrifice of bread onto her altar, and silently step back outside.
There, Sagmi apologises, ‘The pig-mother’s cult has all but ceased. I promise the next two houses will be more vibrant’.
On entering the next temple, Ittidu isn't disappointed. Sagmi whispers introduction to a new host, ‘This is the House of Karak, a powerful spider-goddess who is popular with the semitic tribes of this City’.
Karak’s idol takes a great arachnid form. Her eight legs are attached to threads of wicker and yarn, fanning out across the interior, attached to baskets of sacrifice and to wall hangings. Their weave and colourful patterns reminds Ittidu of the chamber where she'd earlier awoken.
Discreetly Sagmi softly informs Ittidu, ‘During the past, Šamkat invested in this House. She employs many weaverwomen to whom Karak is a divine matron’. She adds: ‘These weaver women might appear fortunate to have Šamkat and a trade that offers a preferable existence to the enslavement of marriage’.
This statement appears cryptic and incomplete, as though Sagmi is disclosing. Ittidu reflects on those words, ‘Might appear fortunate’. Ittidu is entranced by the gods of this tour, and the doubt is soon forgotten.
They step back out of Karak’s temple.
Sagmi tells Ittidu, ‘Mistress Šamkat paid tribute to the spider-mother but has changed her alliance to a deity who resides in the final House, where a new cult, supported by Šamkat’s wealth, and popularised by a sanga named Merkar’.
Tall walls of baked brickwork have been generously plastered over with a pink wash. This building towers over the other temples. Multiple buttresses and recesses stagger its impressive architectural design. Priests and pilgrims to and fro through doorways built for immortals to access. One more time, Sagmi takes hold of Ittidu’s hand to lead her inside. First they pass by a small shrine of a deity who Sagmi describes as,
‘Damuzi the patron of northern herders. He who breathes life into our grain-seeds and fills our silos with bountiful harvests. The silent shepherd who walks amongst Anna’s flocks’.
Ittidu gazes up to the idol. Impressive ibex horns crown a caprine head. She knows this isn't the main attraction of this building.
Sagmi reads her thoughts and grins as she leads her into a large hall. At its far end on a pink plinth, stands an idol unlike any Ittidu has ever previously seen. No horns, angel wings, talons nor mermaid’s tail. This idol is entirely human in form. The deity takes the shape of a beautiful maiden. A divine celebration in femininity. The goddess figure smiles down onto an altar overflowing with sacrifice. The divine maiden is flanked by tall pillars of cut reed, like the arches of Nammu’s reed temple.
I think here these citizens have made a new form of god devoid of all natural totems, In their own human image. Ittidu already knows the name of this immortal by her fame. Out of politeness she allows Sagmi to give introduction,
‘Inanna the protector of libido and of earthly pleasures. Whilst other immortals seek to direct humanity with threats of destruction, Inanna wins them with promise of carnal delight. Should she wish for the citizens of Anna to go to war, rather than bully them with wrath, Inanna inspires them with lust’.
Ittidu is impressed by Inanna. This she expresses to her companion, who reacts by offering, ‘Miss, we have brought plentiful tribute should you wish to commission prayers by the temple gudus on behalf of your parents’.
‘Sagmi, I think that a generous offer, yes I’d gladly accept’.
Sacrifice is agreed and prayers negotiated. Uguli, Engur and its priesthood have little influence on the local orders of the E-anna. Like two chalcolithic superpowers, the two sanctuaries compete with increasing levels of aggression. The gudus of Anna gladly agree to bless the reunion of the Sanga-En of Nammu with his wife in the Underworld.
The holymen of Anna chant their secret prayers up through long hollowed out sections of reed pointing up to Inanna’s ears. Silently Ittidu thanks Inanna for hearing them.
Ittidu ponders on this new idea of the City. Though she still finds it strange, she concludes civilisation isn't all decadent. This gives her fresh hope. Here in front of a beautiful goddess, Ittidu decides to learn more of this cult, and of the ways of a citizen.