Gate of the Gods: Book 5 of The Windows of Heaven

by K. G. Powderly Jr.

  The mousy little wife had not stopped bawling since the discovery that her husband could not resist the Goddess. The lesson that a mere mortal woman could never compete with the divine love Inana offered must be a bitter one, if the woman’s near incoherent blubbering had any meaning. Inana almost pitied her for a second, until she realized that it was better if the woman learned hard lessons sooner rather than later. Indulging pain and sorrow encouraged whining, and whining was for the weak.

  Maybe he really did love only his wife, Inana thought. I did after all, suggest that it would be good for her too, that it would make her strong after she stopped her crying, and grew up. Maybe my divine power expanded during my visit to the Absu. Since I am the Goddess, I can make right and wrong whatever I want them to be…

  “Within reason,” said a voice that Inana somehow knew only she could hear. It came up from the lapping waters.

  “Who are you?” she whispered.

  Mag’Margidda dug at the river mud, eyes dull and satiated.

  “I am En-ki. You would be wise to control yourself a bit longer.”

  Inana closed her wrap and folded her arms. “Was it you who warned me in a dream to avoid the Surupag Channel?”

  “Yes. Your sister Ereshkigal is there, with others more powerful than she. I will take her down to Under-world and give her men’s corpses. You must beware of her even there, for she will steal from you the son yet to be in your womb. You, on the other hand, will rule men’s hearts in the sun’s light. And when the time comes, you shall have your son, and rule Uruk.”

  Inana relaxed her arms and smiled. “What do you wish in return?”

  “After you find Ninurta at Kish; bring him south again in your Boat of Heaven to my Absu at Eridu, where Utu lives. I will give him many Divine M’Aes for him to restore to Kish, not just the one taken. The spirit of Ishtar, Queen of Heaven, shall also be yours. If one M’Ae confers the power of civilization, than many will grant other powers that multiply greatness.”

  An entirely new thrill shot though Inana, such that her words came out in a breathless squeak. “What is happening?”

  En-Ki’s voice became one with the lapping of the waters. “There is war in the heavens. En-Lil’s forces have arrayed themselves against Earth, because the Deluge he sent did not destroy all men. He hates the noises of lovemaking and life. I helped Zhuisudra preserve the seed of men, to defeat En-Lil’s overbearing rule, and to put him in his place. He is but one of many gods—a major one, yes, who must still be appeased—but not the only son of Anu. The gods are mostly with me. I am raising you, with others I’ve prepared, to be a new generation of gods and not mere mortals anymore.”

  Inana felt a warm hovering energy over her lower stomach. She said, “I’ve sensed that. I’m grateful you’ve chosen me to tell what happens in the heavens. But I need to know what’s happened here, to the people of the new cities, and to Uruk? Why is wretched Qe’Nani as he is?”

  En-Ki’s inner voice shifted to a growl in the bottom of her mind. “En-Lil has planned more deluges to destroy men—through a new demon monster who does his bidding. I took action to prevent this, though it meant delaying some of our plans, also. I only succeeded in weakening the monster rather than destroying it, unfortunately. Such is war. After Ninurta meets me at Eridu, he must spread his wings northward. I have sown contention in men by confusing their speech, but your divine power, with that of Ninurta and Utu, shall unite the world again under me. I am En-Ki, god of the Earth, the Absu, and the Under-world. I am the god of this world.”

  This made perfect sense to Inana. Why wouldn’t it? She was, after all, the Goddess, and gods understood each other intuitively, did they not?

  49

  Palqui had first noticed the Glow when he had confronted his grandfather at Bab’Eluhar. It seemed to follow him, and grow, as he travelled southward across the reed lands. Each tent village he passed had more and more people afflicted by the confusion that he had announced. Soon, he took no steps to hide his passage. Everyone he met had too many of their own problems to bother with him, Glow or no Glow.

  At first, after finishing the Divine Wind’s appointment for him at Bab’Eluhar, he had intended to head for a deserted marsh isle, as Iyapeti the Elder had suggested.

  The mace men changed his mind about that.

  Ever since the mace-men, Palqui had searched for Surupag. Iyapeti mentioned that he had heard the hostage city was south of Kush, but without any specifics, because he had not known himself exactly where it was.

  It happened when Palqui entered a large tent settlement, about a week after he had left a speechless Nimurta. Dazed people filled the open common, sitting passively in the dirt in small groups. Most were women, who made no effort to keep track of the dozen or more children meandering in their midst. Everyone stared ahead silently into space. The moaning breeze ruffled their hair, like tree leaves, covering and uncovering their blank eyes. Some looked as though they had not eaten in many days.

  The mace men exploded into the opposite side of the village from Palqui like a band of grunting apes, swinging their bronze, pear-tipped clubs down on the heads of several of the stunned people. The women scrambled to their feet and scattered. Only then did they make noise, keening like terrified bush birds as the mace-men chased them. They never had a chance.

  Two of the men, who all apparently, by their dress and weaponry, had until recently belonged to some saar’s elite guard, overtook the first woman to reach her feet. They quickly clubbed her to death, laughing at the sport of it, as if they had just brought down a gazelle. Most of the assailants fell upon two other girls, tearing their wraps and forcing them, facedown into the dust, where they began sexually assaulting them.

  Palqui had no idea how he could intervene successfully, but he ran toward the gang rape anyway, shouting at the top of his lungs.

  The clubbed woman was dead before he could reach her; the other two girls screamed under their attackers. The remaining villagers stopped fleeing, and circled back into the open area between the tent rows, to watch dumbly, as if more curious than concerned.

  Rage drove Palqui at them, and with it, the Glow. Only now, it became a blazing pillar of sun-fire that hovered over him, howling like an angry furnace. His voice became louder than a waterfall made of living flame. One word was all it took:

  “Down!”

  Something like lightning arced over the mace men, shocking them away from their prizes like fire-whips on a feral dog pack. They even made yelping sounds. Palqui pushed his way among them, and somehow seized each of their maces like toys from rowdy children, one at a time. His body moved quickly, with a controlled fury that stunned them, as he tossed each mace, except for the last, out of their reach. Yet the voice that issued from his mouth—his own and yet not his own; a sound like roaring waters and pressurized flame—reduced the attackers to frozen panic.

  He commanded the two mace men that had murdered the first woman to kneel. They did so, whimpering like hyenas.

  The words came through Palqui, more than from him; “Whoever sheds men’s blood, by man shall their blood be shed! It is the word of E’Yahavah El-N’Lil!” He lifted the remaining mace, and bashed the brains out of both men while the others watched. Then he turned on the ones who had assaulted the other women. His voice howled as a cyclone, “Kneel before the flood of E’Yahavah’s wrath!”

  It seemed not to occur to the remaining mace-men to do otherwise.

  Palqui caved in the skulls of the men who had assaulted the women, but spared the remaining two that had not yet gotten their turns. When he finished, his tunic and skin glistened with shards of bone and bloody tatters of brain. He hurled the mace off into some nearby palm trees.

  By this time, the last two mace men trembled, shrieked, and wailed, soiling themselves in their terror. Still, none dared move from their knees. Palqui kicked them both down into some mud, tore their gear and clothing from them, and sent them running naked into the bush. They rushed off, howling and grunting like
frightened baboons.

  He turned to the villagers, but they backed away from him, eyes down and quivering. The women Palqui had just rescued ran from him, shrieking, which broke the crowd into a panicking exodus through the tent village, away from him.

  It was only after he reached the other side of the shantytown, and moved on some distance, that he also screamed at the devouring madness around him. Palqui collapsed, vomited, and wept long into the night.

  50

  P’Tah-Tahut supposed he should have noticed when the squad of macers he left behind to wait for Usalaq all complained of a mild fever and body aches the morning he departed Arrata with the others. The squad leader insisted they would be fine, that the sniffles came with the changing of seasons. The Vizier had deliberately chosen his men from settlements farthest away from those suffering the brain fever, before leaving Kush. He never suspected any connection because of it. It even made sense to leave the ailing men where they could rest and recover while they awaited Usalaq.

  Per Nimurta’s orders, Tahut and his caravan of acolytes, equipment, and scrolls had avoided any settlements during the many weeks of their long trek back to Kush, through the Mountains of Weeping Stone. They even took the high paths around the tent compounds of Assur. Only as they neared the northern-most of the new urban construction complexes of Akkad, did they notice how empty the land was of normal activity.

  No boats on the rivers, and no shepherds tending flocks were the first clues. Closer yet, they saw new buildings left unfinished, and crops overgrown with weeds or dried up from lack of regular irrigation. Circling vultures and gryphons said the rest.

  Then the first acolyte took ill—starting with mild fever and body aches—just as the squad Tahut had left at Arrata. Only as that day progressed did the Vizier discover his mistake. By nightfall, the acolyte burned with high fever in a speechless delirium.

  P’Tah’Tahut now recognized the symptoms as those of the brain fever of which he had warned Nimurta. When they reached the first walled village at dusk, they found it deserted. By then, the sick man had lost consciousness, and a second acolyte took to shrieking guttural nonsense. He kept pointing into the gathering shadows at whatever phantoms his overheated brain hallucinated. Before the second watch, half of the soldiers likewise gibbered.

  By dawn, the remaining escorts deserted, leaving Tahut alone with four terrified acolytes who could still communicate, and the two running high fevers. He dared not turn his back to them, and began speaking in mild suggestions halfway through the night, to keep from arousing their anger. They seemed far too frightened to think of revenge, even for their flayed comrade, which meant they must be beyond both sanity and hope, in the dark lands of panic.

  Nobody slept. Nor did anyone speak of turning back for Arrata, when P’Tah-Tahut “suggested” abandoning the baggage wagons inside the village square, and continuing in the last cart containing the texts and some specialized tools.

  When the last of Tahut’s company reached the northernmost wall of the Akkad proper, two more of the acolytes had fallen ill, although only to the point where their speech was mildly slurred.

  The city was almost deserted. Those that remained in it wandered aimlessly amid the empty half-built dwellings, fleeing from the Vizier’s every approach. A few rotting bodies lay in the streets, covered in flies and maggots. Occasionally, Tahut heard someone shrieking in the distance like a terrified beast.

  His heart pounded in his ears.

  “What has happened here?” asked one of the two remaining acolytes still capable of asking anything.

  Tahut said, “I don’t know.”

  The other acolyte said, “You have aroused the wrath of E’Yahavah by defiling his Treasury with blood.”

  The Vizier turned on the man. “So why then am I unaffected, and most of you faithful Khaldini reduced to lunatics?”

  The acolyte hung his head and said no more. Within the hour, the remaining Khaldini sages from Arrata also spoke gibberish.

  P’Tah-Tahut abandoned them all and, after secreting the cart inside the outer wall, he pressed on for Kush on one of the onagers, alone.

  51

  Suinne watched the poling boat approach the quayside at Kush, amused at the tiny company aboard her. He recognized Ninurta’s golden-haired slut-goddess, Inana, standing over the prow like some inane sailor’s fantasy. Behind her, a befuddled Qe’Nani clutched the boat’s narrow mast like a sad monkey. He seemed thinner than the last time the Astronomer had seen him—if that were possible. The others were unknown—a mousey woman, some children, and the big man who poled the craft toward the quay.

  Suinne hailed them with a sore-pitted hand, as the boat slid pier-side.

  Inana spoke first, “Ahh, speaking you can! Sanity there is!”

  The lanky albino smiled his hideous smile, frightening the children down into the boat’s reed-bundled gunwales. He mused, Inana’s not aware she’s affected. This will be easier than I thought.

  Suinne bowed as the boat brushed up against the dockside. “Welcome, Lady Inana, our Lord awaits us in his father’s palace. I am gratified that you are safe.”

  The huge boatman lifted her lightly onto the quay even before lashing the boat to the pier. She walked the remainder of the way to Suinne.

  “To then the palace we must go! I’ve heard from En-Ki out of the waters, whose sun sprites bled fire on rivers in homage to me as I crushed them beneath my heaven-boat. Don’t make me crush you too, Astronomer!”

  Suinne bowed again. “It would not enter my heart, Lady Inana.”

  “See not that it does, pale monster-man.”

  “Shall we climb to the palace, then?”

  Inana’s eyes twitched as she started up the path ahead of him. “Up then the climbings are.”

  Suinne suppressed his laughter as he followed her at what appeared to be a respectful distance.

  52

  Adistant shriek in the night woke T’Qinna from disturbing dreams. She no longer knew these days where her sleep terrors ended and those of being awake began. Bent faces and warped voices seemed to continue whether she slept or not. My E’Yahavah, this is worse than World-end! At least in the Deluge, the protective womb of the ship shielded us from most of the horror. Now we see and hear the very madness of Under-world in the faces and voices of our own children—our very hope for the future!

  Why have you done this to us?

  Outside her window, the jabbering of the fever-maddened continued in the darkness, like the sound of gnawing insects, and buzzing flies around her head. She hated that they made her think of those things, but pity was getting harder to muster over such oppressive exhaustion. T’Qinna got up and pulled a sari over herself, then stepped outside.

  Tiva kept watch, leaning against one of the portico pillars. A damp cloth hung from her hand, as if she had given up bathing fevered heads from the futility of getting to so many. Yesterday’s death toll was down from previous days, at least. Though the vast majority of the sick survived, Khumi’s men dug several graves a day. The mortality rate had fallen for the sixth straight day. She genuinely thanked E’Yahavah, albeit without much warmth.

  T’Qinna stopped next to Tiva. “Who screamed just now?”

  Tiva’s face looked haggard and ghostly in the moonlight. “Some women out there with bad dreams; does it matter?”

  “No. I was having one too. She woke me up—a relief really.”

  Her sister-in-law snorted. “Not much of one. It can’t be any worse than this.” She gestured at the rows of sufferers laid out in the courtyard and around the portico. “Can you remember it?”

  “Remember what?”

  “Your dream.”

  T’Qinna leaned her shoulder on the pillar. “Wish I couldn’t.”

  “Feel free to share the misery.”

  “Would that make things better or worse at this point?”

  Tiva shrugged. “How should I know? You, at least, have a history of insightful dreams—even prophetic ones, if I recall.”


  T’Qinna said, “Those felt like nightmares, too, at the time.”

  Tiva gave a wry chuckle. “It was the end of the world, old girl, ‘Sleepy Tavern’ served up nightmares all around. Only somehow, this is scarier—the beginning of a world founded on madness.”

  “In many ways, no doubt; but maybe not entirely.”

  Tiva faced her. “Now you have to tell me your dream! Cuz I see nothing but jabbering lunatics burning with fever. The only thing scarier than that, is what they’ll start doing once their fevers break, and they’re strong enough to get up and roam around. Even with Khumi’s return, we can’t keep this up. Two of his men fell sick with it last night, after you went to bed.”

  T’Qinna pushed back the tears that wanted to flow and never stop. When she felt she could speak without breaking down, she said. “I dreamed that evil Watchers, Serafs, and sphinx-like Kherubim paced among the fallen, like predators. They each opened up people’s heads, one after another, with glowing claws that burned and cauterized the flesh. Then they began to play with the brains, squeezing them into perverse shapes, and writing on them with styluses as if they were soft clay. Afterward, they breathed fire on them, but instead of cooking, the brains became pillow-shaped, baked clay tablets inside each skull; full of different forms of writing I’ve never seen before.”

  Tiva’s face looked dead and gray. “Maybe that’s what’s happening. Maybe the very thing that makes people who they are has been re-written along with their speech.” Then she said something that made T’Qinna’s skin crawl. “Maybe they’ve re-written us too, and we just don’t know it.”

  It took a moment to process this. Then T’Qinna remembered a part of the dream she had forgotten, after hearing the scream. “I don’t think so, Tiva. A few of the Kherubim were holy—not many, but some. They left a few brain-tablets with writing I could partly read, if I put them together.”