“But that’s not what happened that night at all,” Iltani said, as the need to finally confess became overwhelming. “I’d planned it all out days before. After the coronation, I led you back to your room, saying I couldn’t sleep, that I was having nightmares at the thought of leaving you and that I just wanted to spend a few more hours with you. When you agreed, I put on the flimsiest nightdress I could find and intentionally placed the wine in front of the fire to warm so I could stand in front of that damned fire every chance I got. I hoped if I flaunted my body and plied you with wine, you’d get drunk enough to finally take me to your bed.”
Ditanu coughed into his hand. He was laughing at her. “You were keeping pace with me in regards to the wine, only I had greater body mass. You got drunk faster. I think even then I would have done the noble thing and tucked you in bed, alone, had you not then shimmied out of that flimsy bit of cloth you called a nightdress. Once you came to me and started removing my robe, my noble intentions vanished. We became mates that night. I truly don’t actually like the taste of wine or any alcoholic drink, but I must say I hold a fondness for it in my heart all the same. It's why I drink it—to remember wonderful memories of you. Besides, you seemed to come to my bed when I’m half drunk. You even called me adorable once.”
Iltani started to laugh. “Oh, by the great Queen of the Night, I seduced the king of the gryphons! Isn’t that a treasonous act?”
“It’s only treason if it goes against my will.” He reached across the table and cupped her cheek. “I imagine Ishtar was proud when her Blade claimed her king. Nothing you did that night, or any night since has ever been something I did not want.”
“I understand why you would hide this knowledge from others, but why keep this from me?”
“When Burrukan found us in the night, he was livid and tossed a bucket of cold water in my face to sober me up. He then told me I had just put you at risk if my enemies ever figured out that my Little Shadow was, in fact, my consort. By the pre-dawn light, when the fires in my blood had cooled somewhat, I realized there was truth in Burrukan’s words, but that’s not why I allowed him to separate us.”
Ditanu pulled Iltani to him. She went willingly and rested her ear against his chest. When he continued, his voice was a deep rumble.
“Burrukan asked if I knew why you gave yourself to me. I told him we were in love, had been for years.” Ditanu sighed. “At which point, he said how could I know if you did it out of love for me, or perceived it as some kind of duty—even if you weren’t aware of it on a conscious level, for you would do anything for me, be anything for me, even if it might not align with your personal wishes or desires naturally. You would still fill whatever needs I might have. I think he was correct, too.” Ditanu started to chuckle. “When Burrukan said I dominated and overshadowed you all your life, I realized you might love your king out of some sense of duty, but I did not know if you loved Ditanu the man.”
He reached out and ran his thumb across her lips. “That’s why I did not tell you we were mates, even after we performed the Sacred Marriage. I needed to know—I still need to know. Do you love Ditanu the man?”
“Is that all?” Iltani laughed. “I loved Ditanu the boy long before he was either man or king. And, yes, I’ve grown to love both the man and king equally now.”
Ditanu kissed the top of her head. “I had to ask, to be certain.”
Iltani poked him in the side. “Well?”
She waited and pretended to take offense.
“Well, what?” he asked with humor.
Huffing, Iltani smacked him on the shoulder again. “Say it back to me. Or I’m going to have to beat it out of you. In the last days of my training, my skills were enough to defeat Burrukan in battle—I’m sure I could take you.”
Again he laughed, a sound so full of delight it brought tears to her eyes.
“I think I’ll withhold the words just to make you try,” he purred. “I think I might enjoy being ‘taken’ by you.”
She huffed with greater indignity, but her eyes drank in his form and desire flared to life within her at the thought of attempting to ‘take’ him as he implied.
He tilted her chin up to look her in the eyes. “You have had my heart forever. I’ve loved you before I even knew there was a way to physically express that love. You are my greatest love, the Queen of my Heart.”
Her heart did that little lurch, and her stomach answered with its familiar little flip. She leaned closer and took command of his lips. After a time, she broke away to breathe. “That’s better. I’ve only been waiting all my life to hear it.”
Ditanu grinned and claimed a kiss and then opened the next letter in their stack and started reading it out loud. Iltani decided this would be a lifelong tradition, this writing and reading of love letters.
Continued reading for A Blade’s Beginning and Blade’s Honor.
A BLADE’S BEGINNING
ISHTAR’S LEGACY # 1.5
LISA BLACKWOOD
Copyright
A Blade’s Beginning © 2018 by Lisa Smeaton
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, and characters are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any print or electronic form without the author's permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
Edited by Tracy Vandervliet
Blurb
After being freed from her prison cell by the King of the Gryphons, Enkara will endure the dangers of court intrigues and assassins to be united with the gryphon cub who kept her sane during the many years she spent in a dark dungeon.
But if she doesn’t reach him in time, an assassin in the service of the Queen of the Underworld will steal away her only chance to save him.
Author’s Note:
A Blade’s Beginning is a short story that is part of the Ishtar’s Legacy universe. It ties together events from Ishtar’s Blade and Blade’s Honor.
Prologue
An assassination attempt was a dangerous undertaking for both the target and the person planning it, Enheduana mused as she made her way down a set of ancient stone stairs. Time and dampness had pitted and discolored them, but they were still serviceable for her needs.
She descended the last stair and continued into a series of now-familiar corridors until, at last, she came to the remains of a temple deep beneath the Royal Palace. The temple was still protected from interlopers by its ancient magic.
Like her mother before her, Enheduana made the long trek twice per moon cycle to perform the rituals that kept the temple’s magic alive. If she thought she could make the trip more often and remain unnoticed, she would, but some needs superseded others. Her carefully cultivated Councilor persona took a great deal of her time. But it wasn’t what she was.
She had a higher purpose.
Enheduana swept into the temple and continued toward the altar at the back of the room. A swiftly drawn knife, a chanted prayer, and a quick cut on her arm temporarily fulfilled the temple’s need for blood and worship.
When she raised her gaze from the altar to the tall statue of the Queen of the Underworld, she smeared a dab of blood against the statue’s cold lips.
“Great Ereshkigal, may your blessing be ever generous.”
After uttering the simple prayer, she turned and addressed the dark alcove that once housed a statue of Nergal, King of the Underworld. “Good, you are here.”
At her words, a cloaked figure stepped out of the shadows. Enheduana nodded her head in acknowledgment. “The Anunnaki brought the items from the underworld you will need.”
She shivered at the memory of the towering spirit guardian with a man’s body and the head and wings of an eagle. Yet she’d survived the summoning and a deal had been reached, so at least for now, her d
ealings with one of his kind was over. She picked up the medallion and two daggers still in their sheaths from where they rested on the altar and handed them to the female assassin. “You know what to do with the medallion?”
“Yes. I remember,” the assassin said in her soft voice.
“Good. Is everything else in place?”
The cloaked figure nodded. “All is ready.”
“If you get the chance, kill the king. But Queen Iltani is the primary target. Her powers as Ishtar’s Blade make it too risky to continue with the next phase of the plan. As long as Iltani lives, we risk exposure. I will not be the priestess who failed her goddess.”
“I shall honor great Ereshkigal with a death this day, either Queen Iltani’s or my own.” The assassin bowed to the altar.
Enheduana just hoped it was Iltani’s soul that made the journey to the underworld and not the assassin’s.
Chapter 1
Enkara peered around the column shielding her from view. Only when she was certain no one was looking her way did she dart from her temporary shelter to the next in line, using the shadows to mask her presence from the guards and the boisterous nobility already deep into their drinks.
The nobles were no threat. She could hide in their shadows, and they’d never know she was there. The Lagashian city-state guards, while more watchful, didn’t worry her overly much either. She’d made it safely past five dozen of their brethren to get this far.
But the other guards, the King’s Shadows—those silent, expressionless and ever-watchful protectors who had accompanied the royal party to Lagash for the celebration—those sentries were far more difficult to sneak past unnoticed.
Today was the first time she’d seen the king’s elite Shadow guards in person, but she’d read about them in her studies. Highly skilled guards loyal only to their ruler. It was said one Shadow was worth ten well-trained regular soldiers.
Another text she’d read claimed these Shadows were soul-bound to their monarch and could sense an assassin’s approach. It wasn’t supposed to be as advanced as the power Ishtar’s Blade wielded, but still enough to alert them to the presence of danger.
That, Enkara decided, was a lie.
Otherwise, they would have sensed the assassin who had proceeded her up the tiled floor of the corridor. Though, the assassin had a disguise that let her navigate the corridors openly. Enkara wasn’t as lucky, but that didn’t deter her. She would find her target.
Sliding along the wall, she kept one hand against the stone, her fingers brushing along the surface. She noted the ornate carvings of lions and bulls etched in the stone’s cool surface.
If the torches had been lit and the antechamber flooded with light, she would have been able to see the blue and gold paint and small squares of lapis lazuli that decorated the walls and columns. But the sun was still above the horizon and servants hadn’t yet arrived to light the torches, so she used the long shadows to hide.
The decadence of the motif crafted upon the stone mattered little, she was more interested in matching the patterns in her mind. Her own strange power allowed her to hide, even to remain hidden from the guards’ sight for a time. It made her feel braver than she really was.
Unfortunately, the closer she got to the great hall’s entrance, the greater the number of people and the risk someone would run into her. She surveyed the nearest guards and the nobles still arriving. Then drawing a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and stiffened her spine; though, there was nothing she could do to stop the trembling of her knees.
When a group of nobles made their way up the stairs, she used them to hide her smaller form as she released her magic and stepped from her hiding place.
The nobles were oblivious, likely seeing her no more than they would a young servant in training set on some task by one of her elders. She kept her gaze downcast and her demeanor docile. Ahead, the number of nobles increased, making it easier for her to hide among them. She wove in and out of the taller adults, her small stature aiding in her quest.
Not long after she entered the hall, she spotted Lady Ettu and the group of orphans gathered around her. Today Enkara’s fellow orphans were being presented to Prince Kuwari, the sole survivor of his litter. She’d never actually seen the cub with her own eyes, but she knew him through the special link they’d shared since his birth four summers ago. She’d felt him as he took his first breath, his soul and magic already seeking her out.
Today was his name day. She supposed it was fate that they were meeting in person for the first time this day. Though, if she’d been given a choice, she would have been with him from the time of his birth.
But he was too young to come to her, and she’d been a prisoner in a dungeon until seven months ago when King Ditanu and his Blade, Iltani, had rescued the prisoners from Kalhu’s dank cells.
Ziyatum, traitorous governor of Kalhu, and his equally faithless daughter, Beletum, were killed that night. Enkara hadn’t shed a tear over the deaths of her grandfather or aunt. Her mother had told her they’d killed her father, Ziyatum’s own son, when he wished to defect and warn the king of the traitors in the heart of New Sumer. Five years later, Enkara’s mother had died in their shared cell.
No, Enkara hadn’t felt sorrow for the deaths of either her grandfather or her aunt.
At first, she’d felt nothing. Then fear manifested. After her first terrifying and exhilarating taste of freedom, she’d adjusted to all the light and noise and realized she never wanted to go back to existing inside a small, cold cell. But if her rescuers learned she was a granddaughter of Ziyatum, they would put her back in a dark place.
After all, her own flesh and blood had imprisoned her to keep their secret. This king would likely do much worse to protect his family.
She wouldn’t go back to a dungeon. Yet her mother had made her promise that if she ever escaped, she must seek out the line of the gryphon kings and swear her allegiance to them, for she had a great destiny.
Back then, Enkara hadn’t known what destiny had meant. There were many other things she’d only come to understand over the last seven months of freedom. But even as her understanding of this world and her place in it grew, she never once allowed anyone to learn the secret of her heritage.
Her mother had also warned her to never let others see the mark running along her spine, so she hadn’t. Though, it wasn’t always easy. Her rescuers had assigned her and all the other orphans to the safekeeping of a noble lady by the name of Ettu.
Lady Ettu, with the help of an army of servants, had set upon a quest to learn the identities of the orphans and to match them to any remaining family, but there were still fifteen children that were without any living relatives to take them in.
As such, Lady Ettu had explained that all the children were now the wards of the king. As part of King Ditanu’s duty, he would inspect the children and decide upon mentors for them, but first, since his own son, Kuwari, had lost two siblings in the same raid that had killed the orphans’ parents, the cub would pick one or more of the orphans to be his new brother or sister.
To have a family was something Enkara had desperately wanted since she’d lost her own mother just over four years ago. When Kuwari was born, her silent plea was answered, and she had someone to love. But until Lady Ettu had mentioned that the orphans would be presented to the monarchs, she hadn’t known how to go about inserting herself into the cub’s life.
This inspection of the orphans was her best chance.
Unfortunately, in keeping her secret, she’d made herself unpresentable. Kuwari couldn’t pick her if she couldn’t get in the same room with him.
When she’d lined up with the other orphans earlier, Lady Ettu had looked upon her with pity and taken her aside, telling her that only a proper lady could meet the king. Ettu had then pointedly looked at Enkara’s matted hair and dirt-smudged skin and told her there was no time to get properly cleaned up now, but that if she was good and conducted herself in a dignified manner befitting a girl of n
ine summers, then maybe at some later date Enkara could meet the king.
Enkara hadn’t cared about the king. She’d only known that earlier this morning her magic had warned her of some unnamed danger to Kuwari.
She frowned at the fabric of a noble lady’s skirt and admitted what she’d done next hadn’t helped her cause.
When Lady Ettu had called for servants to come take Enkara back to her room, she’d hissed and growled and bit at them as they’d tried to drag her away. During that fight, she’d learned the nature of the danger Kuwari faced.
Among the servants had been a new woman by the name of Gemekala. She was there to help deliver the orphans to the king for his inspection. During the scuffle with the servants, Enkara had gotten close enough to the woman to scent a familiar chilled darkness she hadn’t smelled since the last time her grandfather had ventured into her dungeon cell to tell her lies about the king of the gryphons.
That time he’d told of how King Ditanu had executed Enkara’s father for treason against the crown and that the king had also ordered the deaths of the traitor’s mate and child. Ziyatum claimed he’d hidden Enkara and her mother away in his dungeon for their own protection.
Lies were easy to spot. They left a bitter scent in the air almost strong enough to taste. A scent trail of bitterness had always followed in Ziyatum’s wake. He was just too confident in his own lies to ever think a child could see through his words. But Enkara had been forced by circumstance to become a master of lies herself.
Queen of the Gryphons: Ishtar's Legacy: Books 1 & 2 Page 26