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

by K. G. Powderly Jr.

  “What did they say?”

  T’Qinna answered, “The same thing in slightly different ways, but taken together they read; ‘To limit damage.’”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I don’t know.”

  53

  Palqui shouted for the Glow to leave him alone. “I’m only a man, and not a Great One! Why do you call me to this?”

  The village of Isin stood before him, its only permanent structure a tiny mud-brick shrine in the center. The tents and palm trees cast elongated shadows around both it, and Palqui, like a besieging army of twisted ghosts in the twilight. The people cowered around him, silent as the dead men that lay at Palqui’s feet with their brains bashed out—this time by a hammer.

  The Glow did not answer, nor did E’Yahavah.

  Palqui had found the village of Isin just a few hours ago, much as he had the shantytown where the mace men had wreaked havoc, over a week ago. Only here the women ran around, laughing like birds, drunk and naked, until attacked by the four men whose bodies now lay still. The dead men had murdered several people, mostly girls, in the days before his arrival—Palqui had learned this in bits and pieces from a married couple who could still communicate in a child-like pidgin speech.

  None of it made any sense.

  The Glow had flared above him, just as before. He also found the villagers in the same suggestible mental state, including the murderers, who had obeyed him in mindless terror, even to their own executions.

  Palqui had covered all the women, and made them wear veils. He didn’t know what else to do with them. He doubted it would solve much, though it might stabilize things some if people kept their clothes on. Not that he thought that nakedness had caused the murders and sexual assaults by itself, but it couldn’t have helped matters. Empty eyes and dull, grubby faces awaited his next move, as if all higher thought had left them.

  Palqui spoke, “Hear the judgment of E’Yahavah, who sent the Deluge; all who murder shall be put to death! All who force a woman sexually shall also be put to death!” He pointed to the man who, with his wife, could still speak somewhat. “That man is now your leader. You will all fear him as you do me! If any shed blood, this man’s hand will kill the murderer! I will return with the flame of E’Yahavah. Do you understand?”

  The villagers nodded like pouting children. Palqui was certain they did not understand at all. He walked over to the man who could barely speak, and handed him the bloody hammer. “What’s your name?”

  “Me is Shatru,” said the man, trembling, eyes to the ground.

  “Shatru is your chief! E’Yahavah watches!”

  At the word “watches,” the villagers began an echoing whisper of a word that Palqui had heard before, “Igigi, Igigi, Igigi…”

  The shimmering light above Palqui began to crackle and flare. “Stop that!” he shouted at the people. “E’Yahavah alone is Creator! E’Yahavah alone sent the Flood, and the Fire to come is his alone!”

  The people, except for Shatru and his wife, bolted into the encroaching night like a flock of terrified gazelles faced by a lion.

  Palqui sat down before the ramshackle shrine among the dead bodies of the murderers and rapists, and wept with a wild howling.

  After several minutes, two gentle hands touched his shoulders.

  The voice of Shatru said, “Be not weeping, Eya-man. They only be childs of fooly baddings.”

  Palqui looked up, barely able to see through tear-stained eyes. Shatru’s wife, a large woman with a kindly oval face, knelt before him and said, “You please give us honoring at our tent, staying for long as needed. What fooly childings return, husband will lead.”

  Shatru added, “Me kill on those what rape and shed blood. Me not wanting to kill, but it be needing in sadding madnesses.”

  The Glow ceased crackling, and settled to a faint shimmer.

  The wife said, “See? The Melam-glow, it fades in gentleness. Me clothe the fool-girls of nakedly-strutting too. You see? It be fine.”

  Palqui wiped his eyes and looked up to find that the “Melam-glow” had indeed settled to cool phosphorescence, gentler than moonlight, somewhere near overhead. He wished the woman were correct about it being fine, but had little confidence about it, beyond the night’s sleep.

  They could bury the dead tomorrow if the wild dogs left any.

  54

  Gilgamesh first heard of the monster when the Spirit-being that had replaced his father led him into the lakeside tent villages on the farmable delta plains, northwest of Uruk. They had found several deserted boats on the lake’s western shore, and had crossed over to the tent villages toward late afternoon. Most of the shantytowns were deserted, but one still had a few inhabitants, dwelling like ghosts in the lengthening shadows.

  At first, Gilgamesh had welcomed his father’s apparent return to sanity. As the days of travel across the grasslands stretched into weeks however, it became plain that the man he followed was no longer his father. He had Lugalbanda’s face and form, but not his speech patterns and mannerisms. Something seemed to have sucked Lugalbanda from his own skin, and poured someone or something else back inside.

  Gilgamesh knew this also by his “new father’s” touch. The old Lugalbanda had never lavished such affection on him, nor had he fondled him as the “new one” did. At first, this maybe calmed some recent terrors, but only to instill entirely new and different ones.

  Gilgamesh was still unsure which terrors were worse, but the “new” father seemed unafraid, and more confident at a time when everything else—including his “old father”—had gone insane. This went a long way toward making the boy willing to tolerate the sense of wrongness that came by the new forms of affection. By the time he heard about the monster from the lake settlement people, the combination of meeting folk he could half-understand, and the comparative security of a calmer version of his father, made any sense of wrongness seem less and less important.

  Even yesterday’s revelation by his “new father,” that he was in fact an invisible “spirit-being” who had possessed Lugalbanda’s body, did not frighten Gilgamesh anymore. The “Spirit-being,” told him he had taken over Lugalbanda a first time briefly, to conceive Gilgamesh with his mother, and now permanently to guide Uruk’s future Lugal. With assurances that Gilgamesh’s “old father” rested in peace, the words of the Spirit-being, that was his “new father,” made far more sense than his “old father’s” ranting about rocks and trees with eyeballs—despite the strange nightly touching.

  When Gilgamesh and his father entered the only inhabited lake village at dusk, a tent-dweller dared emerge from his hovel.

  “Is it you, Lugal-banda Kengu?” said the shadow from the tent.

  Gilgamesh recognized the man who stepped out into the fading light. It was the assistant chief builder his father had sent back to Uruk to supervise the new construction. The man had lost weight, and the dark bags under his eyes were visible even in the twilight.

  “It is, and more,” answered the being who called himself by Lugalbanda’s name.

  “Plague struck. Madness is. We few from Uruk, your servants, the Kengiru, find tent towns empty. Hide from the Lilu demons.”

  Lugalbanda clasped the man’s hand in a way that raised Gilgamesh’s spirits also. “We shall drive them back into the Absu.”

  “Another monster is now, that threatens floods from its chest and fire-deathings from its mouth! Huwawah comes!”

  Lugalbanda ordered campfires lit as the others emerged like roaches from their tents. Then he, Gilgamesh, and the Master Builder from Uruk took counsel together.

  Gilgamesh said to the man, “Tell us of this Huwawah monster.”

  “I have not seen it. But some of our kin that wandered south to us have, saying it comes from the cedar forests up the Ufratsi. They say it sends floods like a new Deluge, breathing fire, and can kill men where they stand, like stalks of grain scythed down. That is why quietly, we hide in tents!”

  Lugalbanda placed his
hand on Gilgamesh’s shoulder. “Fear no more. This Huwawah is a creature of En-Lil sent to exterminate us! En-Lil thinks we make too much noise, but all he does is sleep! This Huwawah is just an angry dwarf before Lugalbanda! If I do not slay Huwawah, young Gilgamesh will, once he is of age. In the meantime, we must re-gather and rebuild. En-Ki requires it.”

  That was how Gilgamesh first learned of his destiny.

  55

  The portico breezeway of the small palace was cool relief from the burning afternoon sun. From his place, standing behind and to the left of the throne, if he cocked his head, Suinne could see the single fishing boat they were able to crew, casting its nets far out on the river.

  An exchange of words turned his focus back to the throne, where he noticed something unexpected. Ninurta seemed to recognize his returning Vizier. P’Tah-Tahut had ridden into “Kish” less than an hour ago. The Astronomer had strongly suggested to his “god” that they hold court to receive so important a messenger, almost sure that Ninurta would have the same trouble recognizing Tahut as he had with Suinne. Inana’s recent arrival had produced mixed recognition responses from the “war god,” reinforcing Suinne’s sense that reintroductions would likely be needed.

  Reintroduction also offered the perfect medium for redefinition. Kush’s palace provided a most convenient place for such an occasion. Only now, a quietly gibbering “M’Es-Ki-aj-Kush-Saar” sat on one of the junior thrones, while Ninurta took the large seat in the middle, dressed only in his golden-horned headdress and a soiled loincloth.

  Inana twisted impatiently like a brazen snake on the remaining smaller throne, her milky arm coiled around Ninurta’s right bicep. She seemed bored. Suinne easily guessed why, and found the thought amusing.

  Ninurta continued speaking to Tahut, “Why come you alone back to us? Where are the magic men of Arrata?”

  It surprised Suinne even more that Ninurta recalled where he had sent the Vizier before the Madness. The new god had not even remembered Suinne’s person, much less his station or mission. How fortunate for me!

  P’Tah-Tahut bowed. “Unfortunately, the plague has taken them, my Lugal. They are all lunatics, unable even to speak coherently. It happened quickly, as we approached the northern marches of Akkad. The wagon with the scrolls and supplies is inside Akkad’s north-march wall. It was the best I could do, under the circumstances.”

  Ninurta screamed, “Sending you, I expect more!”

  Fortunately, Suinne had intercepted P’Tah-Tahut on his way into “Kish”—as even he had begun calling the city now, to avoid confusing the others. Finding him of equally sound mind as himself, the Astronomer had briefed the Vizier on the situation since his departure. Although never exactly a friend in the past—only poor, demented Kush qualified as that—it was nice to have a sane man of Tahut’s intelligence to converse with again.

  The Vizier stretched himself flat before the throne. “I plead the storm god’s wrath be spared his lowly slave! I am but a man who cannot control diseases! But I can still use the magic scrolls for my master’s advantage.”

  Suinne sighed. Good. He’s taking my advice.

  Ninurta relaxed into his seat. “Man, no more are you. Your service me-toward in past-of-times was goodly. I grant you the gift of godhood! Generous am I, even to failure—as in you, that is rare. You are Ptah and Thoth, god of wisdom and scribes! Ninurta’s word makes it so! Rise!”

  “Ptah-and-Thoth” rose. “We thank you, Lord, and sound the mighty name of Ninurta, the raging Bull of Heaven!”

  “As should be, as should be; now on to business.”

  Inana rolled her eyes, and slipped her arm free of Ninurta’s.

  Suinne stepped forward. “May it please the god of the hunt, and his goddess of love, to hear counsel from the lowly moon god?”

  Ninurta nodded. “Please us, it would.”

  Suinne tried not to smile, because it had scared away one too many of the few servants they had left, and he could not afford to send any more screaming off into the wild. “I ask Lady Inana what the great god En-ki said to her divine radiance from the watery Absu, when she came to us from Uruk in her sacred boat.”

  Inana’s eyes opened wide in what seemed like pleasant surprise. “Ah, yessings to the moon god, Nanna-Suenne! En-ki did much speakings to me, boatwise. He said that Ninurta and I must go south, to Eridu, the mouth of En-ki’s Absu, in my Boat of Heaven. He told of war in the heavens, such that I want a sword, so that I, too, can water it with rose-red bloodinesses!”

  Suinne grinned despite himself. “What else did En-ki say?”

  She slapped her forehead. “Oh! Oh! That En-Lil will attack the Earth because the Deluge he sent in the beforings did not slaughter all men like he wanted.” She lowered her voice and smirked, as if letting them all in on a dirty little secret, “En-Lil is a killjoy who hates my beer ballads and joyful couch noise. He hates laughter and love. En-ki saved men from the Deluge to remind En-Lil he’s just one of many gods—a big one—but not the only son of Anu. The gods are with En-ki, who makes us his Anunnaki! The Anunnaki are earth gods . The Igigi-Watchers are gods in heaven.”

  Ninurta leaned over and kissed her. “You, of one other thing said En-ki told, remember, when we…” he whispered in her ear.

  Inana squealed, “Ooooh yeah! That one! En-ki made growlings in my mind, that En-Lil will send more floods to destroy all men, this time through a new demon monster—En-Lil’s attack lion. En-ki tried to stop it again—and this part gets blurry—but he had to delay us too. The monster is weakened, but still comes. ‘Such is war,’ En-ki says. That’s the why of people’s talk getting all yak-yak and mumble-grumble. But when the melam-glows of Lord Ninurta, Utu, and me come together with En-ki at Eridu, all will become clear. Then Ninurta must spread his wings northward! Our divine m’es will unite the world under En-ki, who guides us in the way!”

  Ninurta raised his arm. “It is enough! Lady Inana and I go southingly by the West Lake Channels, all the way to Eridu, in her sacred boat. The moon god, Suenne, shall accompany us with needed boat slaves, and with Meshkiaj-Gasher and Saba,” he nodded to Kush and then to Saeba, who had been found outside the city, wandering. “Ninurta’s words make it real!”

  After the god dismissed everyone, Suinne found P’Tah-Tahut under the willow tree by the Hiddekhel River, where they both had agreed to meet.

  Suinne removed his hood only when he got under the shade, and sat down on a large root. “What did you think?”

  Tahut shook his long head, and grinned bleakly. “It is as you say, ‘Who better than a madman to rule the mad?’ But can we really control them? What if this En-ki of theirs is real? What do we really know about the World-that-Was and its powers?”

  “If En-ki is real, then we will not seek to usurp him. If he is a delusion, then he is a most convenient delusion for us.”

  “How so? What if in his madness, Nimurta decides that ‘En-ki’ wants us killed in a fit of rage? Or have you not noticed from Inana that one of the plague symptoms is the loss of inhibitions?”

  Suinne risked a quick smirk. “Those who lack self-control are often themselves more easily controlled by others.”

  Tahut tossed a pebble in the water. “Perhaps. But I think we should try to make Nimurta aware that he’s been affected. He seems to have enough of his faculties intact that it is worth the effort—if we can catch him away from Inana, and present it to him in just the right way. She is much farther gone than he.”

  “And what if ‘the effort’ brings on your master’s ‘fit of rage?’”

  The Vizier thought long on that. He answered, “Then I alone should take the risk so that you will not be implicated, and can carry on. Either way, it seems the only option. I wonder if history will remember us kindly.”

  Suinne broke into shrieks of laughter. “My dear Vizier, history shall remember us as gods. I know, because I intend to write it.”

  So come on now, you heroic bearer of a scepter of wide-ranging power! Noble glory of the gods, angry b
ull standing ready for a fight! Young lord Gilgamesh, cherished in Uruk [said,] “In Uruk people are dying, and souls are full of distress. People are lost—that fills me with dismay. I lean out over the city wall: bodies in the water make the river almost overflow. That is what I see: that people die thus, which fills me with despair; that the end of life is unavoidable; that the grave, the all-powerful Under-world, will spare no one; that no one is tall enough to block off the Under-world; that no one is broad enough to cover over the Under-world—the boundary that a man cannot cross at the final end of life. By the life of my own mother Ninsun, and of my father, holy Lugalbanda! My personal god Enki, lord Nudimmud…”

  —Epic of Gilgamesh, Tablet III, Version B

  (Gilgamesh and Enkidu go to the cedar mountains to slay the monster Huwawa)

  14

  Huwawah

  56

  T’Qinna thanked E’Yahavah that, for the last three days, a steady decrease of new brain fever victims had given them at least a little rest. Better yet, plague fatalities had stopped nearly two weeks ago.

  People still came and went, many just barely intelligible; a few somewhat more so, while others were completely indecipherable. Predatory gangs and rogue loners prowled the countryside. Some were feral cannibals, fit only for driving into the wilds or killing, when scaring them away failed. Others wanderers seemed terrified of any human contact. These seemed to outnumber the predators.

  Of the people who came to Surupag, most were relatively harmless, but Khumi had organized his remaining handful of men, with some patients who had recovered enough to understand and take simple orders, into a fighting force. His men had discovered the hard way that a pack of cannibals roamed both banks of the big river, southward toward Uruk and Bad-Tibira. The bulk of Khumi’s force maintained a visible presence around the hospice, to discourage any random outbursts among recovering patients, while the rest foraged for food.