I, the Sun

by Morris, Janet

  I called all the smiths together – the toolmakers and those who specialize in good iron, the smelters of tin and lead, silver, gold, copper and bronze – putting them under my Master of Horses, Hannutti, who set them to work for the armies: the three-man chariot would soon be the rule and not the exception in Hatti. The producers of good iron I kept late at that meeting, questioning them as to the mechanics of their skill; letting them know I hoped that iron soon would become as common in Hatti as bronze; proposing incentives that sent them away scratching their heads and muttering the secrets of their craft to one another. This was the first time, to my knowledge, any king has attempted to standardize production of that capricious metal since Hattusili commissioned an iron throne and scepter three hundred years ago.

  I sent Mammali’s widow (who already had repaid me tenfold for taking her into the palace simply by being the first Arzawaean Old Woman to practice her skills from Hattusas) down to Tuwanuwa to bring to some conclusion the matter of the girl Khinti, either by bringing me back the young lady herself or information as to why her family was procrastinating.

  I sorted out my concubines and appointed two of them to the care of my sons, for good measure adding two Gal Meshedi whose duties forthwith would be to watch over Hattian ladies I had chosen while overseeing the physical education of the princes Arnuwandas, Piyassilis, and Telipinus.

  I received an emissary from my sister in Hayasa, assuring me that she, at least, was content with Hugganas, and had consummated the union between our houses. For my part, I had only to send a copy of the treaty I had drafted, and all would be well with our two countries, eternally. So I wrote to him, beginning with the customary phrases: “Thus speaks the Sun, Suppiluliumas, King of the Land of Hatti,” reminding him that I had taken up a lowly chieftain and made of him a noble hero, renowned, distinguished in loyalty both in Hattusas and among the people of Hayasa, and stating for the record that I had given him my sister in marriage. In the manner of these treaties from time immemorial, I first praised him, then set out the conditions of our agreement: that he must acknowledge me alone in lordship, and then my successor when I designated him; that my other sons and my brothers must be as his own brothers. And I warned him, moreover, to acknowledge no other lord, whatever sort of man he might be, behind the back of the Sun, warning my new and noble vassal, Hugganas, that if he did not protect the Sun of Hatti henceforth, if to him my head was not as dear as his own and the matters of our mutual concern did not in the future take precedence with him – indeed if he did not love as he loved his own person “the head of the Sun, the soul of the Sun, and the person of the Sun,” or if he heard evil from someone about me, and secreted it, or failed to tell me and to point out a defamer to me then the Oath Gods of the treaty would destroy him.

  At the closure, I reiterated:

  “And you, Hugganas, protect in friendly fashion only the Sun, stand behind only the Sun, acknowledge no other. And I, the Sun, will protect you in friendly fashion, and correspondingly protect your sons. But correspondingly, your sons will protect my sons.

  “And behold, I have placed these words under oath, and behold, for the matter we have called the 1,000 gods in assembly.” Here I listed the gods, those unto whom I laid the keeping of these oaths: the gods of the barbarians; the Hapiru gods; the gods of river and field, of earth, mountains, clouds – all the gods of the land; even the gods of the great sea I called upon to witness our treaty.

  But upon rereading it, I thought it not strong enough, so I added a number of cases in point illustrating what behavior the gods of the treaty must oversee, and what these oaths demanded from him in this case or in that. Furthermore, I detailed extradition procedures and military levies and tributes with extra care. And still I was not content, needing to make clear my mind and even to relate to him a special case with which I was concerned.

  “Furthermore: this sister of mine whom I, the Sun, gave you in marriage, she has many sisters of the family and of the seed. They too may be coming to visit because you have their sister as wife. In the land of Hatti, one custom is important: the brother does not take sexually his sister and his female cousin: it is not right. But he who does such a thing, in Hattusas he does not remain alive; he dies. And because your land is barbaric, in it they take sexually their own brother, their own sister and female cousin. But in Hattusas that is not right.

  “And if ever a sister or half-sister or female cousin of your wife should come to visit you, give her to eat and to drink; eat, drink and be happy. But do not desire to take her sexually; that is not right. From that men die. And do not seize it in your mind. If someone else leads you astray to such a thing, do not listen to him, and do not do it – it too is laid to you under oath.

  “And watch out about a palace woman. Whatever sort of woman it is, whether she is free or a hierodule, do not step close to her, do not say a word to her. Nor should your slave or your maidservant come close to her. Watch out carefully about her. As soon as you see a palace woman, jump well out of the way, and leave her the way far off:” Then I told him the old story of the Hittite noble who had met his death from looking wantonly upon a palace woman in the courtyard where the King’s father could see him defiling this hierodule with lustful glances, so that he was executed. “Even from looking from afar a man perished. And you watch out,” I warned, making it clear that not even in Hayasa would this sort of behavior be acceptable to me. “Therefore, the wives of your brothers, your sisters, do not take any longer. In Hattusas you go up into the palace and here the matter is not right. No longer may you feel free to take a woman from the land of Azzi in marriage. And let that one go, whom you had formerly; let her be your rightful concubine, but do not let her continue as a wife. And take your daughter away from your son Mariyas and give her to his stepbrother.”

  This I followed with standard military clauses, finishing with: “And behold, these matters which I have laid upon you by oath, if you, people of Hayasa, do not keep them, then may these oaths destroy your persons, your wives, your sons, your brothers, your sisters, your families, your houses, your fields, your cities, your vineyards, your threshing places, your cattle, and all your possessions, and from the dark earth may they raise up the spirits of the dead on you.”

  Then I swore once more to do no evil to the people of Hayasa, providing all aforesaid oaths were kept, wrote “finished” in the wet clay and sent Pikku, my little light-haired scribe, to fire the original and make copies, one of which would wait here in Hatti for Hugganas’ arrival.

  Pikku stood poised a moment, scanning the tablets for illegibility or mistakes in my presence before he left. The time is long gone when a king could afford illiteracy, trusting treaty composition to scribes. When he was satisfied that all was in order, he bowed as if to take his leave.

  “Scribe, send immediately to my sister, congratulating her upon her marriage. But send no copy of this; it must await Hugganas’ arrival here. Do you understand?”

  The light one smiled, pursing his lips: “My lord feels his sister might not agree?”

  I laughed. “It is not to her benefit to disagree, but I would not like to be she when Hugganas reads these terms. Send suitable wedding gifts, and a notice that the treaty itself is ready for signing in Hattusas.”

  The scribe muttered something. I was reminded how much ill the little scribe had done me when he was yet my wife Daduhepa’s personal servant.

  “I did not hear you,” I said, and motioned him toward me.

  “My lord, it is only that we have already sent gifts to Hayasa, and they have sent gifts here –”

  “Then send more! Is it the Sun’s sister who wed Hugganas, or a hierodule? Go on. Get from my sight.”

  The perplexed scribe hustled-to obey me.

  It was none of his affair, but I handled the matter thusly because I did not expect to be in Hattusas when Hugganas and his new Queen arrived.

  CHAPTER 14

  My prospective father-in-law’s gatekeeper was truculent, then dub
ious, then uncertain. Before admitting me to the courtyard, he personally carried my message to his lord while I – leaning against the side of my chariot, unconcerned to all appearances but with both hands in plain sight – counted the number of nocked bows trained on me from the bastions and the parapet atop the rampart, thick as three men, surrounding the merchant’s estate. From what I had learned of this man he had good reason to maintain his home like a fortified camp.

  Slowly and elaborately, an eye upon the two spearmen who stood at my team’s bridles, I brushed dust from my plain black mantle. When the gatekeeper had challenged the solitary charioteer who demanded entrance, I had answered him truthfully that I was Suppiluliumas of Hatti. In the ensuing pause that revelation engendered the scuffling of feet upon the bulwarks and men’s mutters could be heard. When the gatekeeper returned, his narrowed eyes betrayed his disbelief that any single warrior whose gear was worn, unornamented, and white with dust might be who I claimed; but I only waited patiently until the wings of the planked gate opened inward and the two spearmen at my horses’ heads led them beneath a stone arch into the estate’s courtyard.

  There I took my ease with a score of bronze-tipped arrows trained on my back from above while the two spearmen belittled my horses and wondered for my benefit just how many Suppiluliumases there might be in Hatti and what unpleasantly lingering death their lord would decree for a mercenary (such as I obviously was) who would be so overweening as to lie his way into their lord’s presence. From this I gleaned more substantive evidence, should I have needed it, as to the nature of the man whose imposing, nigh impregnable fortress stood on the shores of the Salt Lake.

  It was a well-planned enclave; once inside, I understood why, in all the years these lands had been embattled, it had never been taken by our enemies or by Hattians seeking to employ it as a command post.

  From within the inner courtyard came a commotion – shouts and running feet – and as the copper-encrusted gates were pulled back to reveal a magnificently robed figure striding toward me, followed by the inevitable entourage of lackeys, plantings rustled: through the foliage I glimpsed eyes peering out and caught snatches of high-pitched chatter as might come from women or adolescent boys.

  This lord brushed smooth his robe’s sleeves in a habitual gesture of irritation, leaned down to whisper in the gatekeeper’s ear. He was as tall as I, but fair, with wheat colored hair and eyes like a panther’s: not brown or yellow or green, but a mixture of all. Slaves and attendants hurried up to his right and left with beribboned standards and a sunshade appliquéd with rampant stags; others followed carrying a gilded throne, banners blazoned with the clashing stags device of their master’s house, silver flagons and rhytons, and bowls on trays. When everyone had come out, the gates to the inner courtyard swung shut with a thud of finality, the slaves and the attendants arranged themselves smoothly into a complex order around the chair beneath the sunshade, and the purple-robed lord lowered himself into it – all of this with nary a misstep: the thirty-odd functionaries before me were better-drilled than many countries’ crack parade troops.

  As he crossed his legs, I saw peeking out beneath the gold-beaded hem of his robe fine shoes with upturned toes like a king’s, and wondered just what I had gotten myself into by coming alone to confront this merchant prince (who by his display bethought himself royalty) in the courtyards of his minions.

  All the while the gatekeeper was hurrying toward my chariot and the spearmen at my horses’ heads hissing that I had better dismount from my car, did I know what was good for me, and the archers holding their bows steady, and their lord examining me from above steepled fingers, I was casting about desperately for a way to halt this train of events before I found myself having to make war upon the man whom I had come here to make my in-law. For not believing I was who I claimed to be, I might excuse him, but should he insist on carrying this posturing further – if anyone seriously expected me to supplicate myself before the seated lord on the rug the slaves were just now unrolling at his feet – I would have to orphan my prospective wife before I had even met her. In front of his servants, it would be difficult for the man to admit an error. Belatedly, it occurred to me that Khinti’s sire – whose loyalty was at best unsure – might actually know who stared back at him from between my horses’ ears; might even have had procrastinated in hopes of provoking this very sort of confrontation.

  Still I had not dismounted; the gatekeeper came with twisted lips toward me; one of the servants leaned down to whisper in his master’s ear; his lord’s eyes flicked upward, behind me to where the bowmen bestrode the battlements.

  “Behold, father, I come to make clear my intentions, and to consummate the matter pending between us. Did not my Old Woman inform you?” Throwing the reins contemptuously to the gatekeeper, I stepped down from my chariot and walked slowly toward him, wondering what it was about a girl seen briefly by moonlight that had me offering up my back to a merchant prince’s rabble, when I had half a hundred at home than whom this girl Khinti would likely be no better.

  The sandy-haired lord tugged his beard, spoke in three servants’ ears in turn and rose as those three sprung away: one back through the inner court gates, one to the gatekeeper who stood now in my chariot, one to climb the stairs fretting the defensive wall.

  Motioning his retinue back, he walked toward me, his lips white in their lair of beard, his hands twisting the shawl draped crosswise about him.

  When I judged he would halt, I stopped, crossing my arms, and said very low, “You are making this unnecessarily difficult for us both.”

  “I was not sure. I am not sure. You appear more a mercenary than a king. How am I to know you are whom you claim?”

  “Let your archers loose their shafts, then wait and see what happens.”

  “What would happen? Can I be held accountable if a bandit breaches my walls and tries to make one of my girls run? For an avenger, there is no punishment.”

  “You are assuming someone would ask. We could make good use of this place as a garrison – if my zealous brothers could be restrained. Rebellious towns are often burned flat and clean, especially when they host the estates of traitorous merchants who sell Alashiyan copper to Arzawa. Too much of that cargo has ended in the bodies of Hattian soldiers for the local lords to take your part, should word leak out.”

  He betrayed no shock, which raised my esteem: my one-eyed commander’s widow guessed the nature of this family’s hesitancy to become royal – more than any of my functionaries had managed to do.

  The beard fringing his lips was shot with silver. “My lord Suppiluliumas,” he murmured, slit-eyed and smiling so that his face crinkled up as papyrus does when thrown into flames; “with all respect,”– in lieu of obeisance, he let his glance rove down to my feet, then back to meet mine –” I have written you that the difficulties inherent in your proposal are insurmountable. Your presence here only compounds them. Whatever possessed you to drive down here alone?” Smooth as poured wine was his threat, made while gesturing toward the wall at my back. Behind him, the inner courtyard gate opened; a second chair on the shoulders of four slaves appeared. Before the gates were drawn shut, I glimpsed between them a girl’s form, a pale oval face peeking through.

  “I came here to make a queen, to bring a Tawananna home to Hatti. I am not leaving here alone – and if I do not leave here at all, you will need more than these few brigands to protect you.”

  The merchant followed my gaze and, seeing that the slaves had brought up the second chair, asked me to accept his meager hospitality, his mien austere. I grunted noncommittally and, as we proceeded in silence and at measured pace toward the chairs, weighed my chances. It had not occurred to me that the man might think he had too much to lose; that his actions might actually be so questionable that he could not risk being discovered.

  But as I broached the subjects of his holdings in enemy lands and his subversive activities in pursuit of the holy shekel and mina, my host grew restless in his seat an
d his cheeks colored. When I explained that the dowry I offered included safety from prosecution on account of any and all previous offenses, he hastily moved the discussion indoors, where we sat in a lavishly furnished hall as fine as any in my residential palace while I detailed the uses I envisioned for his widespread and efficient smuggling operation and how Hatti could profitably employ a man who had the confidence of not only the Arzawaeans, but all the western kings. For Khinti’s father’s interests were multinational in scope: he was a full brother of the island fief of Alashiya’s present ruler, and had blood ties to the pale-haired robust sons of Ahhiyawa who controlled the far western islands; he catered weapons and information to these and more distant lands. I wished mostly to audit, occasionally to edit, once in a great while to author, the communications they received. I offered him a mandate to continue his various nefarious activities without qualm and profit exceedingly therefrom, for it must look as if nothing had changed.

  But if I were to give you my daughter, would not it look just a bit suspicious?”

  “Ah, but you will be giving your permission under duress – you have certainly proved your reluctance to call me your son. In any case, you are too important to those you serve to lose credibility on that account: a king often accepts less than he might wish in assurances from those providing services which cannot be gotten elsewhere.”

  “I’m not sure, my lord, that these matters are as simple as you make them, but I am intrigued.” His eves had begun to sparkle; I had noted it but gave credit to the wine. Periodically, he would chuckle and his glance would go distant, roaming his memories and his conjurations. Then, when I was sure I had convinced him, his visage darkened once more and he growled that night had fallen – it was time and past time that his guest be fed. Myself, I was not hungry. I had been walking a precipice with him and still was uncertain; I had no desire to eat at his board. Yet I could not refuse and I chided myself: if I dared not trust him that far I was buying myself endless sleepless nights with the spawn of his loins in my bed.