Chapter 2

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Chapter 2 February – 3,390 BC Earth: 12 hours earlier NINSIANNA The desert which lay between the two great rivers was an inhospitable place, even during the rainy season. There was little cover here. Only rubble and the occasional desiccated clump of brush, the skeletal remains of long-dead streams, and the distant mountain which their enemies claimed was the sacred abode of their god. Ninsianna, whose name meant She-who-serves-the-goddess, crouched behind a pile of rocks, her heart pounding as three kilt-clad warriors moved dangerously close to where she hid, gathering dried bits of brush to build a fire. "Why would she come this way?" Tirdard asked. "She wanted to get away from him." Dadbeh said. "Don't let him hear you say that," Firouz said. "He fancies himself in love with her." "I should hope so!" Tirdard said. "They're supposed to marry at the summer solstice." "Not if he can't catch her," Firouz said. "If you ask me," Dadbeh snorted, "she ran off with another man." Ninsianna clamped her hand over her mouth to quell her urge to shout: 'Can't you understand I just don't want to marry him?' She'd voiced that protest, vociferously, many times, but nobody cared about the wishes of a woman. 'Just think what fine sons you'll have?' Papa had scoffed at her hesitation. 'She-Who-Is looks favorably upon this union. He's the son of a chief. Think what prestige it will bring to merge our two houses together?' Well she didn't want to be anybody's brood goat! Not for the village. Not even for She-Who-Is! The conversation cut off as Jamin strode back into the campsite carrying a dead gazelle slung over his muscular shoulders. He was a beautiful man, with a swarthy complexion, a fine straight nose, and the blackest eyes she'd ever seen. Around his neck, he wore a necklace made of lion's teeth, a lion he had killed using nothing but a knife. Every woman in the village swooned at his s****l prowess. Every woman except for her… She was the only prey he'd never been able to lure into his bed! His best friend, Siamek, a tall, competent man, set down their obsidian-tipped [1] spears and Jamin's cape. "You see any sign of her?" Firouz asked. "Just footprints—" Jamin pointed north-east "—a few thousand cubits that way." "Why would she head straight towards our enemies?" Firouz asked. "Doesn't she realize the Halifians [2] will take her in-hand?" [3] "Because she's a woman," Jamin laughed. "The gods only know what flutters through her pretty head." Ninsianna picked up a stone, resisting the urge to throw it at the arrogant son-of-a-Chief's head. If not for her 'mental faculties,' he'd be dead right now! "That's what you get for chasing after the shaman's daughter," Firouz said. "We all warned you," Siamek said. "Ninsianna is fickle." Dadbeh laughed. "Oh, Jamin!" I want you!" The small man spoke in a high, falsetto voice. He turned his head, pretending to be his other self. "No I don't!" He turned it back. "Yes, I do!" He turned back again. "No, I don't!" Tirdard clamped his hand over his mouth, trying not to laugh. "The whole while—" Firouz joined in, thrusting out his hips in a woman's walk "—spinning her father's magic." "Shazam!" Dadbeh wiggled his fingers. "Jamin falls under her spell." "Fallen?" Jamin snorted. "Hardly. My father favors the match." He stared at the rock where Ninsianna hid. "Typical woman! Too foolish to know her own mind." He kneeled next to the dead gazelle, took out his water skin and sprinkled a few drops of water onto its head. "Thank you, brother," he murmured, "for the gift of your life." The wind picked up and answered in a voice only Ninsianna could hear. 'You're welcome, favored son…' He sliced into its belly with an obsidian blade, expertly separating the inner organs from the entrails they would leave for the hyenas to eat. Siamek crouched down next to him and pointed at the scar in Jamin's belly. "You looked like that gazelle when I carried you back with your guts hanging out from the auroch [4] hunt—" he spoke low so the other men couldn't hear him. "If she hadn't stitched you back together, you'd be dead. Perhaps you mistook her ministrations for love?" Behind the rock, Ninsianna held her breath. Please? Make him listen? Jamin stabbed his knife into the dead gazelle. "Which is why we need to bring her back!" he said. "Assur [5] needs its apprentice healer." He dislocated a leg and handed Siamek the meat. His black eyes bore into his second-in-command. Siamek nodded. He never contradicted Jamin in front of the other men, but they'd been friends long enough that he often spoke up in private. Siamek strode over and placed the meat into the fire. Jamin stood and faced the distant mountain, his expression vulnerable as the sun raced towards the horizon. "Where are you?" he murmured. He placed his leather-wrapped foot on the rock Ninsianna hid behind, studying the horizon, and fastened his cape using an elaborately carved bone pin. Ninsianna crouched like a prey animal, hidden among the rocks. The wind shifted. Smoke wafted in her direction, carrying with it the luscious scent of roasting meat, spiced with wild garlic and a bit of desert ajwain [6] herb. Her stomach growled, reminding her she'd had nothing but bastirma; dried, salted meat, for the last three days. Where would she live? A woman without a village? No other tribe would dare take her in. The wind whispered: 'Will it really be so bad? To be the wife of a future chief?' She gripped her hem, torn with indecision. She'd always resisted him, the seduction and the gifts; the way he'd always sought her out like a lion stalking prey. But after he'd gotten injured, a whole, new vulnerable side of Jamin had emerged. Each day, as she'd gone to change his bandages, he would tell her stories about all the places he had traveled, the people he had met, and the wild and beautiful things he had seen. He'd promised, if she became his wife, she would travel with him. She'd finally told him "yes." But then he'd recovered and gone back to being—him! He'd been in a terrible temper, when she'd broken off their engagement. Maybe, if she explained she'd been frightened? Perhaps he had learned his lesson? All she had to do was stand up and say, 'here I am.' "Hey, Jamin?" Firouz called out. "What are you going to do with her once we catch her?" "Put her over my knee and spank her," Jamin said, "like her father should have done long ago." The warriors laughed. Ninsianna's doubts froze within her chest. Typical man! Say one thing to woo a woman, another thing entirely to impress his friends. She'd been taken in by him once. She would not have her better judgment compromised a second time! She waited until they all sat down to eat and then, very carefully, began to crawl backwards. A tiny pebble skittered and hit another one. Crack! Ninsianna froze. All five warriors looked in her direction. Her heart pounded. She pressed her body into the ground. Please don't see me! If they stood up, she'd be exposed. She whispered the prayer her father used whenever they needed to start a fire and the wood was damp, picturing the solstice fire they lit twice a year. The fire flared up in a great, gusty puff of flame, causing the meat to sizzle and catch on fire. The men scrambled to contain it before the meat turned into charcoal. Thank you, Mother! She waited until they sat back down to eat, and then crept backward until she reached a wadi, [7] a dry desert stream that only carried water after the most torrential rain. At the bottom lay a dark, moist hole where Dadbeh and Firouz had dug for water. Here, in the desert, water evaporated quickly. Not only had the hole already dried up, but the soil bore a sick, malodorous air. That sense of seeing she'd inherited from her father warned of evil spirits. Anyone who drank this water would be gripped with belly pain and explosive diarrhea. Ninsianna giggled. Maybe that would deter Jamin and his men? She hurried west, away from Ubaid [8] territory, away from Assur, away from her parents who spoke of obligation and duty. Here in the desert, a single traveler might pass unnoticed, but a band of warriors would arouse the attention of their enemies. Not even Jamin dared risk a war with the fierce Halifian tribe! The sun dipped behind the mountain which the Ubaid called 'Hyena's Teeth.' The Halifian tribe considered the mountain sacred. If Jamin got caught there, they would draw him off in battle for certain. The wadi grew dark as the land slipped into darkness, but that sense of knowing she'd inherited from her shaman father illuminated her path. Every living thing gave off a faint spirit-light, from the smallest blade of grass to the scorpions which skittered among the rocks. Her father claimed women were not supposed to see, but she could sense far more than he believed. She tripped on a rock. With a cry, she found herself face-down on the ground. Hyperventilating, she picked herself back up and dusted the ochre yellow dust out of her dress. She needed to find shelter. This far into the desert, there was barely any spirit-light. Oh! How she hated the dark! She squeezed a sip out of her goatskin bladder, now flaccid and limp. If she didn't find water soon, she'd have no choice but to return to the river. She closed her eyes and raised her palms to the sky. Great Mother? I am thirsty… Just to her left, the soil glowed with a faint hint of life. Subterranean water? If she hadn't fallen, she probably would have missed it. She followed the side-wadi straight towards the sacred mountain. A faint, earthy scent carried in the wind. Ninsianna stopped and sniffed. Water? She rushed towards a rock so big the wadi had been forced to route around it. Trickling down from a crack, a tiny spring seeped life-giving water. "Thank you, Mother!" She scooped up a handful and offered her first drink to the earth before dipping her hand into the tiny pool which gathered at its base. It was cold and sweet, with none of the murky stench which indicated evil spirits. She pulled a wool blanket out of her leather satchel. Out here in the desert, a man could die from heat sickness during the day, and then freeze to death at night, but lighting a fire was the surest way to draw unwanted attention. She leaned against the rock, contemplating her sorry predicament. Betrothed! To a man she did not love! The night grew frigid. Ninsianna began to shiver. A pack of hyenas moved closer with their disquieting, laughing bark. She dug out her obsidian blade and clutched it to her chest. A snake slithered out of its burrow and hissed. Out in the desert, an animal gave its death scream. "Mother?" Her voice warbled. "I know you favor Jamin, but he has a terrible temper. Couldn't you make him fall in love with somebody else?" What would make the goddess spurn her favorite son? She stared up at the stars. Shazam! Ninsianna performed her father's magic… Well she hadn't. Not really. Well, maybe just a little... She'd been stuck caring for him, and he'd been such an insufferable bore. What if? "Maybe I could perform a love ritual for him?" Ninsianna giggled as she rummaged through her satchel for the sacred relics she'd stolen from her father. A sack of bones to divine the future. Dried parrotia [9] to symbolize the spirit. A piece of lapis [10] to symbolize the Earth. Her hand trembled as she touched the last item; a small, clay flask containing a tincture of belladonna berries and poppy pods. He claimed, if a woman drank the potion, she'd become lost in the dreamtime. But without it, not even Papa could hear messages from the gods. "Why should men dictate the fate of women when a goddess created all that is?" She pried the stopper out of the flask and gave it a wary sniff. It wasn't like she could make the situation any worse. Pinching her nose, she gagged down the entire bottle. Ugh! It tasted like goat urine! She clamped her hand over her mouth to keep the vile substance down. A sound like roaring water grew inside her ears. She crawled to the sacred spring and gulped down handfuls of water, trying to force the taste out of her mouth, but the roaring grew louder as the world around her spun. She curled up into a ball, clenching her stomach. Why, oh why, had she performed forbidden magic? At last the noise began to grow quiet. No. Not silent. Thoughts flowed around her like a gentle river of information. She held her palms up to the heavens and began to chant a prayer: . O Great Mother! You have the power to alter fate. At your benevolent hands, An ill event becomes good. At your right is Justice, At your left is Goodness. To you, I turn to make entreaty. . As she chanted, the spirit light which flowed through every living creature began to glow brighter. Gerbils [11] spoke. Scorpions clicked out messages. Even the dung-beetles had something important to say. She picked up her obsidian blade and sliced the black volcanic glass through her palm. She squeezed three drops of blood onto the small, clay flask; she picked it up and held it up to the sky. "O Great Mother!" she shouted. "Find Jamin a mate strong-willed enough to put him back into his place? And bring me somebody powerful enough to make him back off!" Out in the desert, a pack of jackals howled, but this time they didn't sound threatening. It felt as though she'd become one with the pack. A paralyzing numbness crept into her limbs. The chirp-chirp-chirp of insects took on the eerie percussion of a shamanic rattle. Grass and shrubbery glowed brilliantly bright, ringed with phosphorescent green. Slender threads of spirit-light stretched between everything she saw, revealing it was all connected. Even the rocks glowed with a soporific, sleepy light, very much alive. Up in the heavens, the stars spun in a slow, graceful dance. Tears streamed down her cheeks as they sang a wordless song. Sister! Join us… She reached up to touch them. "So beautiful," she whispered. "When can I join you?" Time and space became meaningless as images floated towards her on the vast, wide river; a white-robed man seated upon a throne. Behind him rose a magnificent tree out of a lush, green garden, surrounded by a city with three golden suns. In and out of the city, strange creatures traversed between the stars in strange, enclosed sky canoes. The song changed. A terrifying darkness slithered towards the center. 'Mother! Help us!' the stars cried out. The wind picked up. 'Ninsianna…' She-Who-Is whispered. 'I need your help.' The goddess drew her eyes to a silver sky canoe. A man battled the cancer which blotted out the stars, beautiful and deadly, unlike any man she'd ever seen. A flash of lightning smote the sky canoe. It tumbled through the heavens, towards a round, blue stone she understood to be her home. 'Will you help him?' She-Who-Is asked. A thrill of excitement rippled through Ninsianna's body. Would she get to see the heavens? "Yes, Great Mother," she swore eagerly. "I will help him." The wind grew brisker, picking up her hair and casting its' cold breath onto her skin. In the eastern sky, a shooting star illuminated the desert as it hurtled out of the heavens. It grew closer and closer, so large it dominated the horizon. "Mother?" The star bore down on her, a terrible, burning, hellish object. It grew larger and larger. A high-pitched whine split the air. "Ack!" The earth shuddered as the fireball passed directly overhead. She threw herself down onto the ground. WHAM!!! The shooting star slammed into the earth. A pillar of flame shot straight into the air, mushrooming outwards and covering her with rocks and debris. Rocks the size of fists rained down like hail from an angry god. Her heart beat so fast, she feared it might leap right out of her chest. Ninsianna covered her head and screamed. Gradually the rocks turned into dust. Ninsianna stood up and faced the bright, red glow. Was she in heaven, or a strange, fiery hell dimension? 'Go,' She-Who-Is whispered, 'and do as we agreed.' Ninsianna picked up her satchel and headed towards the mysterious, glowing object. She reached a place where a landslide blocked off the wadi. Just beyond, the stream backed up to form an oasis. Two paths of fire stretched across a bowl-shaped valley towards a glowing shape embedded in the foot of the sacred mountain. The first ray of light shot above the horizon. 'Here,' She-Who-Is whispered. 'Here you shall teach our champion to become mortal.'
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