Queen of the Gryphons: Ishtar's Legacy: Books 1 & 2

by Lisa Blackwood

  The stone genies, like the sphinx and the lamassu that guarded the royal palace, were far more than decoration and would wake to defend the city if they sensed danger coming to Nineveh’s shores. A worrisome thought occurred to Iltani. “How long since the statues were last anointed with royal blood?”

  “Too long,” came Burrukan’s solemn reply. “King Ditanu and Priestess Kammani do what they can, but ten island city-states are far too many for just the two of them to properly maintain. Ditanu’s distant cousins have not the strength of magic needed to maintain, let alone wake the spirits sleeping within.”

  Iltani glanced up at one of the genies with its wide, blank eyes. The stone of its body was smooth, unmarked by cracks or salt damage.

  “Burrukan,” Iltani asked once they outpaced another group heading for the temple. “What of my blood? I’m not royal, but my blood is thick with magic. I’ve read every ancient text I could get my hands on, and while I never encountered a passage about other Blades performing these rituals, there are references of them creating many of the ancient defenses.”

  “Quick minded as always. Yes, I am confident that will become one of your roles. Fear not, you will have more tasks to complete than you will have time to accomplish.”

  They walked along the base of the pyramid temple, its first terrace reaching three body lengths above her head. Images depicting the history of the gods were skillfully carved into the stone and lovingly painted in vivid colors.

  The first series showed Ishtar’s descent into the netherworld when she’d gone to challenge her sister Ereshkigal, the Queen of the Underworld. Ishtar had gone with the intention of lengthening the earth’s growing seasons, demanding her sister forfeit the dying time when the earth rested and no crops would grow.

  To reach her sister’s realm, Ishtar had had to shed a portion of her power at each of the gates leading into the underworld. By the time Ishtar had completed her descent, naked and powerless, she’d confronted the Queen of the Underworld.

  Ereshkigal, affronted at her sister’s audacity, ordered her dead on the spot.

  Legend had it that all across the earth, lovers drifted apart, wombs turned barren and life stalled, for Ishtar was more than a battle goddess, she was also the source of fertility and desire.

  Seeing this, the other gods intervened. Tammuz, the god of the harvest, Ishtar’s own husband, offered himself in her place. Had Ereshkigal not accepted Tammuz’s offer, all life would have ended.

  Iltani always wondered why Ereshkigal had accepted Tammuz’s offer—it couldn’t have been out of concern for the living, the Queen of the Underworld had none.

  To cause Ishtar greater pain?

  Perhaps.

  Iltani wasn’t likely to ever learn the answer to that question. She did pity Ishtar, though. Not being with the man she loved was a high cost for Ishtar to pay for her rashness.

  Speaking of the cost of impulsive behavior, Iltani wondered if the last four years of her own life might have been different if she hadn’t gotten drunk the night of Ditanu’s coronation and foolishly tried to seduce him. He might not have agreed with Burrukan that she needed to be kept at arm’s length until her magic matured.

  Ishtar might have called upon them to perform the Sacred Marriage, and Iltani might have become Ditanu’s mate instead of Ahassunu.

  That was a great heaping pile of what-ifs and might haves.

  Iltani huffed unhappily, casting a glare at the next series of images that showed an ancient gryphon king performing the ritual marriage with his human Blade. The image seemed to silently mock her.

  Burrukan cleared his throat.

  She jumped and yanked her gaze away from the images. Without a word, they continued past the temple and turned down another roadway.

  Here lions and waterlilies were the motifs of choice.

  They walked the narrow road at a slower pace, forced to weave their way around the thickening traffic of the day. Chariots made their way through the crowds, bearing officials and nobles. Iltani wondered why Burrukan hadn’t ordered a chariot for himself but discarded the thought a moment later.

  He was apparently taking her through the less traveled part of the city for a reason.

  The Processional Way was long and somewhat winding but was the most direct route to the palace from Ishtar’s Gate. If Burrukan was taking her this slightly longer way, it was likely because it also conveniently led around behind the palace where only servants and other Shadows were likely to see them.

  They continued to walk as the sun climbed higher into the sky and the city came fully awake.

  The day promised to be warm and humid, but the ocean breeze offered welcome relief.

  The royal palace, relatively close to the harbor and the Ishtar Gate when compared to the rest of the sprawling city, finally came into view.

  Soon, she reassured herself. Soon I will see my king again, and then I will set aside all this mental and emotional wool gathering and focus solely on my duty.

  ***

  Halfway up the stairs leading to the palace, Iltani watched for the strange behavior she’d seen when they passed the first two sets of guards. As she and Burrukan drew abreast, the guards snapped to attention and brought their right fist up to their left shoulder, which was Burrukan’s due as leader of the Shadows. However, it was Iltani’s name they murmured.

  “By Ishtar,” Iltani said, not bothering to keep the demanding note from her voice, “What is that all about? I thought no one knew my little secret.”

  “They don’t. I may have let slip that I was grooming you as my heir.”

  They passed the last set of guards and crossed under the archway and on into the palace itself.

  “Well, that’s one way to divert attention, I suppose.”

  Iltani was secretly pleased. Burrukan was the closest thing she had to a father—a stern, hard-to-please father who was always drilling her to be faster, better, stronger, and smarter.

  “Enough talk.” Burrukan’s gruff voice softened a touch, “Besides, I’m famished and if we hurry, we should make it to the throne room in time to eat with King Ditanu and Consort Ahassunu before the morning’s court descends on our rulers like jackals on a kill.

  Jackals? Iltani smiled at the thought of the island jackals even knowing how to hunt. Beg? Most certainly. Hunt? Never.

  Some four thousand years ago, when Ditanu’s ancient ancestor realized that the primitive humans were a threat to the mighty Gryphon Empire, she prayed to the gods.

  They answered, showing that the best way to solve the dilemma was not a genocidal war to wipe out the human race, but instead to relocate far out into the ocean to a vast island chain created by the gods for that purpose.

  The gryphons, ever mindful of the will of the gods, abandoned their old city-states for their new home. Being protective and territorial, the gryphons took those few humans still loyal to them and then preceded to uproot every other plant and animal in their domain.

  Somehow, the jackals had taken advantage of the move and gone from self-sufficient wild animals to fat, loving household pets.

  Iltani wondered if those ancient gryphons had viewed the humans living in their territory as ‘pets’ as well.

  She then wondered if the gryphons today might still view the humans living among them in the same light. Having descended from mostly human bloodlines herself, she knew if the goddess Ishtar ever stripped away her gifts, and Iltani was no longer Ishtar’s Blade, then she would be as human as many of the island’s other residents.

  Her lips turned down with that unhappy thought.

  I’m more than a well-trained pet, she mused.

  Burrukan grabbed Iltani by the shoulder and pulled her off balance as he started down another corridor. “Stop your wool gathering and pay attention.”

  Iltani felt heat climb her face and neck. She tucked her chin and scowled at his back as she doggedly followed in his wake.

  She kept her lips firmly sealed and her mind focused on the coming meetin
g. She would not give either King Ditanu or Burrukan any excuse to send her back to New Asurr for more training.

  ***

  They passed through the outer courtyard and finally reached the great bronze throne room doors, which were thrown wide as if in invitation.

  Only the two colossal stone lamassu statues standing silent guard on either side of the door suggested something other than welcome. From within their mighty shells with their winged bulls bodies and human heads, their spirits thick with ancient knowing and magic looked out at her, taking her measure, judging her.

  After a moment of scrutiny, both guards seemed satisfied with what they found and returned to their slumber.

  Ah. The small circle of those who knew she was Ishtar’s chosen just grew a little bigger. However, her secret was still safe. The city’s stone guardians communicated only with their king.

  And possibly Ishtar’s Blade, Iltani realized.

  Not yet back half a day and she was already finding gaps in her training. Possibly, some knowledge had been lost to time. It had been over five hundred years since one of Ishtar’s Blades had last walked the earth.

  Were the gaps intentional or accidental through plain ignorance?

  “Burrukan, welcome.” The voice was familiar and emerged from the shadows to the right of the throne room doors. “And you’ve brought our Little Shadow home at last. The king will be pleased.”

  Etum, a King’s Shadow only a few years older than Ditanu, stepped from his place by the door and clasped a hand to Burrukan’s shoulder in welcome before turning to Iltani and giving her a hug.

  Growing up, Ditanu didn’t have many companions, but both Etum and his twin, Eluti, were Shadows, and only ten years older than Ditanu. The king viewed them as friends while Iltani viewed the twins more like older brothers.

  “Etum!” she returned his embrace. “It gladdens my heart to see you. Your brother, he is here, too?”

  “Never far,” Eluti answered as he tossed back the hood of his gray cloak, appearing as if out of nowhere. The cloak’s magic hummed along her senses a moment more before its spells went dormant. He shoved his brother aside for a hug of his own. “We were just on our way to start our shift when we heard of your arrival and guessed Burrukan would soon bring you here.” He glanced over his shoulder and through the open throne room doors.

  Iltani followed his gaze. Both guards wore human forms which meant King Ditanu was currently in human form as well. The guards always echoed their ruler’s current form or risked not being able to follow him into the air.

  She would have preferred Ditanu in his gryphon form for this first meeting. At least, it might act as a visual reminder to her of how impossible her love for him was.

  The twins might have said more if Burrukan hadn’t grabbed each of them by a shoulder and steered them through the bronze throne room doors. Once inside, he gave each a shove in the opposite direction and continued into the throne room.

  As Iltani followed, taking in the forgotten grandeur of the vast room, her own appearance seemed twice as shoddy in comparison. Her brown hair was wild and windblown, not even in proper braids, merely tied at the nape of her neck.

  Salt spray from the ocean voyage had left a whitish discoloration on her otherwise dark training vest and leather pants—both comfortable and well worn, not something one would wear before their king.

  And, oh yes. Yesterday’s shirt.

  Most definitely not something one wore before their king.

  Why hadn’t she thought of that before now?

  Oh, right. She’d bolted from her bed and ran for the dock in a fit of excitement even a six-week-old jackal pup would be hard pressed to match.

  Why hadn’t Burrukan allowed her to settle in before she was presented to the king?

  Oh, Great Goddess, there was only one reason for the hurry. Burrukan hadn’t yet informed King Ditanu that she was returned from New Asurr, and he wanted to inform the king in person before he could hear about it from other sources.

  She tugged at her vest, smoothed a hand down her pants and slid a despairing glance at the twins’ attire.

  They were both dressed in elegant flowing robes with weapons belts strapped around their hips, and each had a bow slung around one shoulder and a quiver full of arrows at their back. Sensible sandals encased their feet and laced up over their calves. They each saluted her with their spears as if acknowledging her dilemma, but also with silent amusement.

  Ah, she was home indeed—and soon to be the butt of the twins’ jokes.

  What would palace life be like without the twins finding brotherly amusement at her expense?

  She didn’t have time to dwell on the problem because Burrukan had stopped his headlong flight across the vast floor to scowl over his shoulder at her. His one long-suffering look saying ‘why are you still over there?’

  Iltani rushed to catch up. She managed to match pace with him just as he was approaching a smaller alcove, shrouded in potted plants.

  A table laden with food and flanked by comfortable benches took up a good portion of the area.

  She stumbled to a halt as Burrukan executed an elegant bow. The benches were occupied she realized belatedly. A woman sitting on the other side of the table looked up and offered Burrukan a smile and then graced Iltani with a surprisingly honest grin.

  On the near side of the table, mere feet from where Iltani stood, a broad-shouldered man sat with his back to them. Due to the sultry heat of the day, he was bare-chested.

  Her eyes roved over his back, taking in the familiar old training scars. Three of which she’d accidentally given him when they were younger. They’d been mock fighting in the forest during a bout of hand-to-hand combat.

  It had been an impromptu fight started by Ditanu, and they hadn’t checked the area first. She’d managed to flip him on his back, and he’d landed just off the path, where he’d skidded down a small slope. The rocky terrain had proven far less forgiving than the sands of the practice ring.

  Healers had spent half a morning picking bits of gravel, twigs, and other debris from Ditanu’s back while Iltani had gripped his hand and offered apologies. He’d only laughed and said it was his fault for starting the fight.

  The scars were familiar, but in contrast, the rest of him had changed. He’d filled out…nicely. She watched with purely female interest as his muscles bunched and flexed under his skin as he turned to glance over his shoulder. As the familiar angles of his face came into profile, Iltani belatedly dipped, half falling into a deep bow even as her cheeks burned with embarrassment at almost being caught staring.

  “Burrukan, welcome,” the woman said. “I see you have returned my husband’s Little Shadow.”

  Iltani was slowly straightening from her bow, seriously thinking of hanging back while Burrukan made introductions when her gaze landed on a pair of sandal-clad feet directly in front of her. Slowly, she followed the ankles on up to powerful calves and then up a bit more to the hem of a richly embroidered robe. Her eyes tracked to the side.

  The bench where the king had sat seconds ago was empty. Heart pounding in her chest, she studied the fine quality linen. She followed the stylish cut higher up to where it hugged powerful thighs and a trim waist. She got as far as a thick belt made out of hammered gold links. It reminded her of fish scales the size of her thumbnail.

  “Iltani?” Ditanu said, “Great Gods look how you’ve filled out.”

  At the sound of his voice, she jerked her gaze up to look in his face.

  The youth she’d known was gone. In his place, a stranger with far sterner features looked back at her. The hard line of his clean-shaven jaw, high, well-defined cheekbones and strong brow that hooded his eyes all added to the harder look of a king.

  Only the slight softening of firm lips and a bounty of dark lashes ringing his hawk-like gaze softened the king standing before her enough that she could still see hints of the boy she’d grown up with.

  She couldn’t get her mind to formulate a thought or
her mouth to string together words. Instead, she just stood there and stared at her king like a dolt.

  With a second, hoarser ‘Iltani,’ she was swept up in powerful arms and pressed into that hard chest. It was Ditanu’s voice, alternately whispering her name and laughing in almost tearful emotion.

  The feel of his warm body, the sound of his heart, the scent of his skin, it was all too much for Iltani’s starved senses. Snaking her arms around his waist, she clung to him. Then she merely stood, absorbing everything about him in detail, more than happy to stand there for half an eternity if he would allow it.

  His arms tightened around her, pulling her closer. Just when she thought he was going to smother her, he loosened his hold and held her out at arm’s length to study her.

  “Gods.” Ditanu’s rich voice had steadied a touch. It no longer shook with emotion, but his face was still full of wonder at seeing her again. “My Little Shadow, you can’t imagine how much I’ve missed you.”

  That voice. She just wanted to close her eyes and listen to its familiar cadence. It was a touch deeper in tone but still sounded like the Ditanu she remembered.

  Requiring a bit more willpower than she wished to admit, she snapped her mouth closed and schooled her expression into what she hoped was polite attentiveness as she fought for something intelligent to say.

  When her mind stayed stubbornly blank for ten whole beats of her heart, she dodged the awkwardness by retreating into another deep bow.

  Coward, her internal voice scolded, and she couldn’t debate the issue. She’d taken the coward’s way out after Ditanu’s strong showing of affection.

  “My king,” she said, hoping a formal turn of phrase would cover her earlier social blunder. “I come before you as your loyal servant. Please take my humble gifts into your house and use them as you may.”

  “Humble gifts?” King Ditanu chuckled, “I doubt there is anything humble about your gifts, but even if you had no magic at all, you would still be welcome into my house for the rest of your days.” A long-fingered hand settled on her shoulder, its weight and warmth the only things that seemed real at that moment.