Chapter 43 - Black-Headed Fighters
The Plain of Babba. SW Asia
The Army of Anna is on high ground overlooking Babba’s gardens. The idol of Inanna was floated down the river to join this army. Inanna herself will spectate tomorrow's battle. Merkar, as her husband on Earth, appeases the idol with ceremony. Hoards of the guruš fighters approach their goddess for blessings.
Merkar delays them, calling out, ‘Wait for sunrise. Soon, Inanna will be joined by Nanna, and together these immortals will encourage you into the battlefields’.
This promise of the Moon-god’s attendance is secured, when the army of Gishirgal appears across the steppe horizon. The idol of the Moon-bull is carried forth by these allies. The citizen-guruš exclaim with joy,
‘What an amazing sight, what wonder of military might. The sons of all the Eden march in our support’. It’s true. Never in the prehistory of our worlds has a joint army of such size been assembled.
Cautiously Ittidu murmurs to her companion, ‘Sagmi this is true, although we have yet to see if Engur supports Babba, and what might that they've mustered in defence’.
The chieftain and high priestess of Gishirgal has joined the leaders of Anna’s army, NinEriš is splendidly dressed in armour more ceremonial than practical. Metals in any form, are still a precious rarity in this land. Rivets of gold, and plates of copper and gold adorn her battle leathers. NinEriš brings with her, a message from the enemy, and this she now discloses to Merkar and his generals,
‘The sangas of the E-engur petition that we lay down our weapons and spare Babba from aggression. They report their own high priestess, NinShudapa has passed. The E-engur requests a period of peaceful mourning’.
Sanga Merkar mocks this news, ‘Ha! Permit Uguli more time to build defences and to consolidate his regency?’ he clenches his fist, ‘I think not. I say this would be the time for us to strike hard’.
NinEriš demonstrates no sign of disagreement with Merkar. She subtly adds a condition of support,
‘Once we defeat the armies of both Babba and Engur, Abzu will need a new bride on Earth. I can provide a candidate from my sanctuary. A trained priestess who herself was born to the soils of Engur. Her name is Sanga Anuma, and I can vouch that her loyalties would be to Anna’.
Merkar considers this negotiation. Taking Engur by force would be a different matter to controlling it. As a holy city, he cannot destroy Engur. Neither does he wish to lose the support of his valued ally. He thinks NinEriš plays a clever game with him. He is the better player. He falsely concedes,
‘Bring this priestess to meet with us. Perhaps we will enter Engur not as an aggressor, but as its liberator. This would please the gods’.
‘This I’ll do Sanga. Tomorrow we'll beat the yokels of Babba. Then I'll bring the priestess Anuma to meet with you in the sanctuary of Utu. Uguli will quake with fear as we then advance onto Engur’.
The meeting dissolves. Merkar doesn’t commit to the placing of NinEriš’s priestess on the throne of Engur. He doesn’t blindly trust the chieftain of Gishirgal. Later he'll reconsider his options. For now he retires to lie on a wide bed with his harimtu mistress, Šamkat. He leans over to her, and asks,
‘Lamaštu, have you ever considered ordination as the high priestess of Engur?’
The Battle Lines
Utu rises to announce a new day, and he climbs above his own holy house on Earth. The township of Babba is silhouetted. The rag tag armies of an alliance assemble in mass before this sight. Ceremonies were first conducted, cattle and sheep sacrificed before the two idols. While clubs, spears, slings, bows are readied for use, the gudus share out raw meats from the butchery.
They tell the fighters, ‘the gods favour our victory. You’ll be fighting on the side of righteousness’. This they'll always say to sinful killers.
Ittidu overhears the priests spreading her new legend. They demand revenge for her father, the champion of the poor and martyr for their cause. That Ittidu defeated an entire pride of lions is cited as proof of divine favour. These propagandists of murder approach her with a raft carried on their shoulders. Ittidu is encouraged to ascend so that these priests may carry her high as their mascot.
Trained by a high priestess in the arts of war, Ittidu stands high on her mobile platform. Long straps of thick hide have been wrapped around her legs, pelvis and arms. These are studded with black stones from beyond the southern seas. Her small breasts and slim torso are bare as testimony to her youthful beauty. Her long dark hair hangs through ringlets of copper, over the lion pelt that flows from her shoulders as a cape. Her head is crowned by a leather helmet armoured with tortoise-shell. In one hand she holds a long shield covered with a leopard skin. In her other, a fierce appearing pike carved from the unicorn horn of an oryx.
High up, Ittidu searches to see her mentor and friend, the high priestess NinEriš has been similarly elevated by her own priests of the Moon. Two leopards in harness are leashed in front of her carriage. The curvaceous chieftain wears dark, pigskin leather plated with the new metals. These ornaments glisten in the enchanted light of a rising sun. On her shaven head, NinEriš wears a pig-skin helmet fitted with a pair of magnificent bullhorns. In one both hands she proudly swings a heavy stone mace, sculptured with the seal of her high office.
Further behind stands Merkar in his sheepskin kilt, next to Šamkat, dressed as Inanna’s siren. A pair of angelic wings attached to her back. Transparent, scarlet clothing boasts her curves as she waves a dagger of obsidian in a hand.
Citizen-soldiers salute their mascot heroines with a roar. NinEriš and Ittidu are carried forward to the battlefields. Warriors vow to dedicate their first murder victims to their favoured princess. In the background, stand the envious idols of two gods. They are positioned as spectators over this sport.
The guruš soldiers have prepared for the fight. As the sun rose, they hacked off their beards and their hair. These shorn heads they’ve painted with a charcoal paste. As black headed warriors they nervously chew on strips of raw meat, to leave their lips red. They’ll soon cast their enemies into darkness. Infected by herbs, they become frenzied by the promise of divine protection. Their dilating, white eyes turn to the battlefields of Babba, they open wide. There these black faced aggressors see their prize.
Some cowards drop their jaws and point with pikes. For a dark mass now enters the distant gardens of Babba. Across this sinister movement twinkles the light of many torches to be held up in honour of their rising sun god. This column of soldier ants is the enemy, and its might is great.