A Tale of Two Tales

A Tale of Two Tales

D James Brown
david.brown@iname.com
Words: 20,730

It started with an abyss. Vast it was, its edges didn't even need
to exist. Above it was thick, opaque darkness, and within it
was the Primordial Ocean, sluggish, slimy, and black like tar.
That was all there was, unending night and silent, tideless,
ebon ocean, forever. No winds to mark the water. No cold or
warmth. No air, uncountable days before, unbelievable years
since, and that was how it was when a thought came falling
out of the pitch sky. Not even a thought, just an instinct. It
spent age upon age flying above the black water's flat surface.
As it flew it was always at the ocean's centre, because the
water and the black were perfectly uniform and could not be
seen to fly past.
Beneath the water's surface a musing stirred. Only a creep,
just an itch, deep inside the infinite ocean, with the wet, hard,
heavy water crushing it. What existed in the void and what
existed in the ocean grew and eventually, when they were
nearly as old as the abyss itself, the two great deities rose out
of the darkness.
From the dark waste came the god Apsu, and the Goddess
Tiawath waded up from the ocean's depth. They floated
together on the water with the first ever ripples fanning out
around them on the table-top surface, out into the unseen
abyss. Their son Mummu was born, and the three lived in the
ever-blackness for every aeon that the ocean filled the abyss.
The time which had passed since the infertile water had
lain like a slab in the abyss would have been enough for an
entity to tire of being, and while Apsu and Tiawath aged in
their ancient world they might well have been living the end of
the creation, and such very long lives theirs would have been
if they had ended then. However, Mummu grew and one day
there was to be a complete descent of gods.
This is the creation myth of the Babylonians,
reconstructed by scholars from the stone tablets unearthed in
what is now Iraq. It is typical of religious creation theories in
that it begins with an abyss and an ocean. And it is typical in
that Tiawath, the goddess from the ocean, was popularly
personified as a dragon with horns, a tail and fiery breath; as
was Apep, the serpent whom the Egyptian Sun-gods Ra and
Horus fought; the Christian's Satan, banished by the god of
the heavens; Vritra, the Indian dragon defeated by Indra; and
Faffnir, the dragon in the Volsung Saga, slain by Sigurd.
These spirits have another theme in that they are often
vanquished by a god of light, or the Sun. This is true for the
Babylonian legends, from which many modern religions draw
for their cultures. The gods of the light were many, starting
with Ansur, the father of Ea and Anu. The old gods, the three
from the dark waters, disliked the gods of the light because
they thought the younger gods to be disrespectful. Apsu
complained, "There is no peace for me so long as the new-
comers dwell on high", and Tiawath showed a fierce hatred of
her children, all but Mummu, the firstborn, who at length
declared war on his brothers.
With Apsu's encouragement Tiawath called forth from her
waters armies of men and beasts, giant stinging serpents,
dogs, men who possessed scorpions' tails. She created a god
called Kingu to lead her troops into battle against the gods of
the light.
Anu was chosen of the gods of the light to repel Kingu
and his hoards, but after having seen Kingu's armies he
retreated in morbid fear. After him, Nudimmud was to suffer
the same humiliation. However, the young Merodach, son of
Ea, offered to pit himself against Tiawath's champion. He was
given command of all that existed, and was bade ride into
combat against the droves.
Armed with his great net, club and longbow, he galloped
on the storm, sending the lightning flying before him. With a
word, he invoked powerful tempests to rally before him, and
with the hurricane as his strength he rode out on a silver
stallion.
He didn't meet with Kingu but went straight to Tiawath's
lair, as was his plan. She was basking in her gloom, with mud
encrusted on her breasts and loops of saliva hanging from her
jowls. Seeing Merodach bearing down upon her she hurled a
torrent of flames at him to which he braced himself without
flinching. He cast his net over her, tangling around her scales,
while a truculent wind seized her jaws and held them open so
she couldn't bite.
Merodach held his club over his head and brought it down
with colossal strength onto Tiawath's side, killing her for ever.
As he did so Kingu appeared with his hoards, but seeing the
final thrash of his mistress' tail he turned and fled into the
deep with his armies in pursuit, and they drowned to the last
of them.
Merodach flayed Tiawath of her hide and with it formed a
covering for the Earth and the heavens. He set lights in the
firmament for his family to live amongst and set the
constellations in place, with his own light as the brightest.
The four winds, who had blown Tiawath's blood over the
globe to form its seas and rivers, were directed to the four
cardinal points, and when Bel, the Sun, rested each night
Merodach's Moon governed the sky, having a day's rest each
month.
The blood which had dripped from Merodach's wounds
onto the dusty Earth mingled with the soil and out of it stood
Man, who can hence be regarded as being of a little divine
descent.
_

Politically, the evolution of Babylon is easy to tell. The
native Sumerians were dominated by the incoming Semitic
immigrants. The Sumerians, who were beardless with narrow
eyes, taught the Semites their newly-invented form of writing
in the Ural-Altaic language, and the mixed population
flourished, with strains of Hittite and Amorite being
introduced. This mixture of races that was to form Babylonia
lived half in the north of Assyria, where the ground was dry
and hilly, and half to the south, where the flat marshes and
good agricultural land were to be found.
The Babylonian civilisation, regarded as the first
civilisation ever, was built around Nippur in the north and
Eridu in the south. Although it was finally to be amalgamated
with Nippur, Eridu gave rise to the city of Babylon itself,
which was fifty-five miles from what is now Baghdad.
The people of Eridu loved their culture and their
technology. They were proficient in building, writing, arts of
all kinds, nursing, and the scholar was highly thought of. All
of the knowledge needed for the people of Eridu to execute
daily life was given to them by the god Ea, who rose from the
Persian Gulf every morning to supervise their skills and crafts.
Eridu was a sand-coloured town, surrounded by a circular
band of crops and ley land. The streets were narrow and
irregular, irregular too were the blocky houses with flat roofs.
Some houses had stick looms outside them. On the edges of
the town could be seen ploughs and spades, and sacks of grain
were to be found inside large store sheds.
On a warm market day, the small squares and alleyways
of Eridu were as full of people as any town since. Traders who
sometimes came from along the Euphrates had stalls with
wicker baskets of clothes and art. Eridu's women sat on
benches at the roadside and gossiped to passers-by, and
marketers jabbered out their sales banter. When one went to a
stall to look more closely they would hold their wares out for
examination, while they squinted their eyes against the
sunlight and waited.
Through the open windows of the houses leapt children,
while some crouched in a room's corner playing with pots of
dye. If you were invited to you might enter the kitchen of a
house and find an old lady bundled up in scarves beside the
hearth while her grand-children fought over a toy.
One of the houses on the east side of Eridu was home to a
farmer named Ahmet, who lived with his late wife's mother
and his boy, Ghashmi. Ahmet was descended from the natives
of Sumer. To look at he was tall and upright, with heavy
eyebrows and large, dark pupils. His smile was very fetching,
and when not smiling he used to jut out his chin and stroke his
neck. Ahmet's wife had died years past but his vivid memories
of her never left him lonely and all the years he had lived with
her mother, in his head he was still asking his wife how she
was feeling this morning and when she would like him to fire
the bread-kiln for her.
Ahmet had spent his early life at Nippur. He had moved
his farm to Eridu before starting his family. With only a little
contact with his old home Ahmet often found himself missing
Nippur. When he was asleep and his memories of Nippur
awoke, he would occasionally dream so yearningly of the folk
he'd grown up with that the vividness of his dream would have
him spend part of the following morning elated that he'd met
them again, until of course he found Eridu empty of them and
he could only hope that he would have the same dream the
next night.
In the evenings during the summer, friends Ahmet had
made in Eridu would come to see him - farmers, merchants,
some relatives, and the group would stretch the hours long
with tales of their independent youths. The story-teller would
sit an a harrow outside Ahmet's house with his audience at his
feet, and the fire which crackled between them would cast
wrinkly orange shadows across the faces of the old men who
sat warming their hands around it. The group of men lent to
the town a comfortable place to spend an evening. Neighbours
lay in bed under many heavenly skies listening to ghost stories
and riddles and adventures told by the men to children who
came to sit in adults' laps to doze and listen.
Story-telling needed sometimes to be forgotten when
important issues needed debate, and for a farming community
those issues often concerned land ownership. Stood beside the
harrow one evening was a man named Turgut, a very
unamiable man. He held a position of great importance
because he was in charge of the defence of Eridu against
outside attack, but although his job took most of his time,
involving as it did the chores of recruitment and maintenance
of the guard of patrols which worked under him, he was left
with sufficient energy to make a tribulation of himself to every
citizen whose lot was wholly to farm land.
"What more can I say to convince you - I need more land". He
spoke with a hateful voice. It was hard to tell whether there
was some rasp intrinsic to Turgut's voice which appalled the
listener, but certainly through long sufferance of his ululation
the townsfolk had come to associate his voice with
pesterment. He instilled premature weariness into those he
spoke to, causing their irritation in anticipation of what
haranguing they would be subject to.
"You should be sharing your land with those who need it
more". He had a growing family and continually appealed to
the town's farmers to donate some of their land to him.
Knowing that land was precious in the farming community, he
focused on the older farmers who were less able to farm the
land they had and might be looking to reduce it, and it was in
an aggressive mood that he chose tonight to tackle Ahmet on
the subject.
"There is plenty of land if you are prepared to walk farther
out from the town to cultivate it", Ahmet replied. He could
still manage his work and was offended at being asked for his
land, and also at the insinuation that he was no longer
competent to work it. "I still have a family to feed and need all
the ground I own". He seemed quite calm sitting on the ground
with his wrists perched on his knees and his hands dangling in
front of his shins, occasionally pricking upwards in
gesticulation. Not only was the law in agreement with him but
so too were morals. Turgut stood amongst the seated
audience, agitated by that fact, with his hands flailing in time
with his speech. Because public opinion backed him, Ahmet
had only to resist the temptation of an acerbic retort to
maintain the town's respect.
"Your parents are dead, your wife's dead, you have only
one son. Why do you need so much land?"
"For food! I do need it all. Anyway, there is nothing
dangerous to farming away from the town. There's plenty of
land farther out. Why don't you use that?"
"I am not afraid", Turgut snorted. "It is not fear but good
sense to stay near the town. You know the Annunaki wouldn't
let anybody farm too far from the town". Annunaki was the
name given to Earth-spirits descended from the heavenly
armament, whose vocation it was to protect the Earth. "Why
do you want to see me fight the Annunaki?"
"The Annunaki", said Ahmet wearily, although he knew
that his protest was futile, "do not really exist". He paused to
invite a man who had walked into the group to sit down with
them. The visitor took a seat at the back and listened with the
others as Ahmet continued. "In a hundred years' time Eridu's
population will have doubled, so there will be a time when
we'll all have to confront these fears of the Annunaki and farm
away from the town."
For Turgut the word 'hundred' was used to count people or
houses. A hundred years would never pass. "Can't you think of
the present? If we can't distribute land fairly amongst
ourselves then who are we to justify taking it from the
Annunaki?"
"Our problems are on a much greater scale. The
distribution of land between us is trivial. The real problem is
that a growing community should be using more and more
land, which means working farther and farther from the town.
If we try to support ourselves in the confines of the land as it
lies now, the fields will be overworked, crop rotation will be
too intensive for the land to be able to recover between crops.
We'll never produce the amount of grain we're going to need."
Since coming to Eridu as an educated young man, Ahmet
had always been careful not to talk down to the people. At
first this had been through the need to be welcomed, then it
was through habit. Even now he never took an argument too
far, and in this argument he would have to offend most of the
gathered gentlemen if he were to belittle Turgut's beliefs.
Instead, Ahmet rose abruptly and wished the group a pleasant
night, saying he was tired and would go to bed. It was difficult
to ignore Turgut's disdainful remarks as Ahmet left the scene,
but it was satisfying to mutter to himself the powerful blows
which he could have verbalised if he had allowed himself to be
as rude as Turgut.
Leaving the firelight and making his old path around the
side of his house to his door, he was startled by a man
blocking his path. His dress was a little unfamiliar, a hooded
robe with a leather strap crossing his chest and supporting a
satchel by one of his hips. His face was in shadow with just a
shard of light along his nose.
"It's nice to see you, Ahmet", the stranger said. Ahmet
recognised him as the visitor he had offered a seat to during
the argument with Turgut.
"Thank you". Ahmet would have liked to say more if only
to disguise his wariness, but couldn't think of a suitable
comment. As if he suddenly realised that his face was hidden
in the darkness, the stranger moved his cowl aside. Ahmet
froze and peered at the man. Connections ran like lightning
through his memories, connecting the visage with a long-ago
life in Nippur. Ahmet reached out with one hand, his mouth
moving in silent wonder, and placed a gentle finger on the
man's jaw so he could turn the face to the moonlight. "Veysi?
It is never you?"
The man turned his face to Ahmet's, whose eyes were
creasing and stretching like a baby's. "Here I am."
Ahmet hustled the man along the dusty gully into a spot
where the moonlight shadow didn't reach and once again
pushed his face from side to side.
"Well", he managed at length, "Well", before taking the staff
and satchel and silently leading the way indoors, his face
crying a delighted smile of surprise.
Ahmet spared his bed for his friend Veysi and lay all night
on the hearth, remembering. He remembered the day he met
Veysi when they both had been boys and were walking along
the banks of the Tigris at Nippur, scouring the mud for stones
to skim across the water. They had found friendship at once.
Ahmet remembered his parents' deaths, one after the other,
and the solace Veysi had offered. Ahmet also remembered
Veysi's wedding at the E-Kur, the temple of Bel, on a
mountain-side above Nippur where he had married a girl
named Kirsi. Ahmet had helped them build a house in a valley
in the foothills. He also remembered making the decision to
leave Nippur and begin farming at Eridu, where the land was
more fit for grain. He remembered his parting day most vivid
of all for it felt like a day when somebody had died. He
remembered the crystal tears like dew on pretty Kirsi's
mourning cheeks, and he still remembered the grip of Veysi's
hand in his as they said goodbye.
Ahmet had next heard of Veysi four years later, once he
had moved and had established crops at Eridu. At this point
his memories became vague. He had been ploughing one day
when a young man had come walking across his field towards
him. He had brought a message from Nippur, the unsealing
and unfolding of which had shown it to be from Veysi, asking
Ahmet to return at once to Nippur. Ahmet had found Veysi at
his house, and had been told of the crisis which needed their
help.
Through the night Ahmet lay on his side on blankets,
playing with his memories, piecing together the events of so
many years before. For some of the night a little cluster of
ruby embers in the fireplace incarnadined the otherwise
Prussian-blue of the room's darkness. It tinged the crown of
Veysi's hair which glowed golden, resting on pillows on
Ahmet's bed. As Ahmet dreamed of conversations long past
his lips puckered and parted and his eyebrows twitched up and
down. As the warmth died the light crept back into the grate
and the inky darkness stained the scene blue-black.
_

Veysi had walked a long way to come to Eridu and his
journey had taken most of his strength. He didn't wake until
Ahmet was already telling the people in the market about the
arrival. He was stopping everybody to make sure they had
heard and he even told some of the travelling merchants,
asking the ones who had been to Nippur if they knew Veysi.
Once or twice he stopped to stand for a moment in thought
while he retraced his memories from the night before, still
trying to darn the holes and tie the frays in his recollections.
Pausing in his excitement, Ahmet wondered whether he
really was lucky enough to have seen Veysi the previous night
and that he had not dreamed it, but after retracing his steps
from the vague night before he assured himself on that very
sunny morning that Veysi really was in Eridu.
Ahmet asked himself what Veysi would think of Eridu. It
wasn't very unlike Nippur, but then Veysi wouldn't find it
familiar and might not be so comfortable here as there. Ahmet
would have to introduce him to people if he were going to
make Veysi feel as part of the community. Something would
have to be done to impress the townsfolk with Veysi. But then
how long would Veysi want to stay in Eridu? It was
remarkable that he had come alone all the journey from the
north, and he wouldn't want to suffer the return journey for
only a few days' visit. In contrast he might not want to be
away from home for long, especially without his wife Kirsi.
Ahmet had not considered Kirsi - it was strange that Veysi
would come so far without her. Perhaps she had died and
Veysi had found that Home, which for him had been the place
where his dearest had lived, had moved to Eridu on the laying
of her headstone.
Ahmet was removed from thought when he saw Veysi
pass between sandstone houses a little way off. He caught up
with Veysi as they approached an area of the town which was
sometimes used as a forum for debate. Today the large
wooden platform which filled the clearing was being readied
for the annual and venerable Archers' Tournament, held to
decide which of the town's growing boys were competent
enough to be included in the patrols which encircled the town
each evening to guard not so much against attack from other
settlements or from animals, but to stay the townsfolk's
anxiety that either event could occur while they slept. To be
chosen for patrol was a proud thing for a boy and for his
family.
The platform had been swept and the short lectern used at
debates had been mounted in the centre. The boys would stand
in turn at the lectern as if charged to deliver a lecture to the
gathered townsfolk on exactly how worthy they each were to
join the patrols, except that the only speech they could use
was the plucking of arrows from a quiver and the drawing and
releasing of the bowstring.
The arrows had to be fired true enough to withstand the
shouts of the crowds lining the forum and the malevolent
wishes of rival boys' families. The arrows would shoot into
the bales rigged up as targets. Ahmet explained the tradition
to Veysi as the two of them walked the lane towards the arena.
"My son Ghashmi is taking part this year", said Ahmet. It
wasn't easy to remember that Veysi, who had been one of the
most contributory people in Ahmet's life could know so little
about his family. What an extensive plot Ahmet's life had
used that two contiguous chapters had featured such unrelated
characters.
"He wanted to try it last year but I didn't think he was
ready. It would have been very difficult for him this year if
he'd failed last year."
"Is he good?" asked Veysi.
"He might do well. This year there's only one vacancy in
the patrols to be filled, so if Ghashmi doesn't win outright he
won't get in."
The tournament was to start at midday, so Ahmet passed
the morning touring Eridu with Veysi. Ahmet had been
nervous that he would suffer from the coyness arising from
meeting someone he hadn't seen for a long time with whom he
had once been totally at ease.
"How long did it take you to reach Eridu?" he asked as
they took in the town's Temple of Wisdom.
"I was last in Nippur at the start of the year but I stayed in
a few settlements on the way down, only for short periods
usually. Being not much of a hunter these days I had to stock
up at each village and carry a load of food with me on each
stage."
The words "these days" was for them both a reminder of
age and they smirked as if to say "Gets harder, doesn't it?" and
"Tell me about it".
"Did you have any difficulties with bandits?"
"Not at all. I lost an amount of meat to wolves once, but
they didn't hurt me. I must admit, though, it is nice to be in
civilisation again, especially with someone I know. In a
foreign town you can't trust anybody - not that they are all
disingenuous, but if being robbed is the only way to discern
the crooked from the straight then I'd prefer not to know who's
who. You must find the same problems here in your own
familiar town anyway. You must have people who won't help
the community?"
Hearing that Veysi was still a man to voice his aversions,
Ahmet decided to voice one of his own. "Crime is not a
problem in Eridu, the people are very consolidative. And yet
there is the great problem of poverty. Everyone here is a
farmer and the only produce we have to barter with is
agricultural."
"Right."
"We have plenty to eat but what we are short of are
clothes, furs, tools, anything which can't be grown. Some of
the townsfolk try to make clothes, and we can make some of
the tools we need, but we can't make very good ploughshares
and because there's no clay in the soil here we can't make
enough cooking pots or water vessels."
"I had heard that Eridu's craftsmen are very capable."
"Yes they are, but they haven't the materials they need.
There are too few of them to supply the entire town. To be
honest, the problem isn't acute yet and we do have an
admirable reputation for craft and technology, but the problem
exists and to avoid its worst effects action should be taken
now."
They came to the clearing and saw some children chasing
dogs around the target bales. Ahmet and Veysi sat down to
watch them play.
"Right then", said Veysi as he made himself comfortable,
"Unless you've changed then you won't have stopped thinking
after analysing the problem. What's your solution?"
"I'll tell you the solution once I've told you the rest of the
problem. When I studied at the En-Lil sanctuary I knew many
people who believed without reservation what they read in
Sargon's library. They went out into the villages where they
were well regarded as scholars and astronomers and convinced
the peoples that the land was infested by what I would call
demons. All the beasts in the Gilgamesh Epic was conjured
into the minds of the peasants and the fear numbed them.
When I came to Eridu nobody here had heard the myths, we
are too far south, and the few religious beliefs that did prosper
didn't stop the people getting on with their work.
"When the scholars did infiltrate this part of the nation
nobody here had the education to discuss the texts the scholars
referred to, and if it seemed plausible that a god like Ea could
give the people skill and health then so could these new devils
do the opposite. Suddenly everyone was talking about devils."
Ahmet paused for Veysi's comment. "But nobody has seen
anything extraordinary outside the town."
"No, but then nobody has seen Ea, whom they believe in."
"That is true, but then it is very convenient to believe in
Ea. Where else could they think their marvellous culture
comes from?"
"It was also convenient to believe there was something
inhuman causing their hardships. Even successful towns have
difficult times and bad luck."
Veysi began nodding now that he recognised the situation.
"I've seen this before. Your people are afraid to run trading
routes back and forth neighbouring villages because of what
might be waiting outside the town."
"Is it common?" Ahmet had thought it might be and the
right answer would give him even more confidence in his
ideas.
"Oh yes, and there are not many towns which are self-
sufficient. These beliefs are a curse of the modern age. In the
past when the immigrants were still settling here the
population was too mongrel to have steadfast beliefs, and the
rivalry between traders spurred them to place business success
above all else. You need someone who will pioneer trade with
other villages."
Ahmet found it refreshing to talk to someone who agreed
with his every word. "Some people even suggested a wall be
built around the town to keep out the demons."
"That may not be such a waste of work, you understand,
because at least the townsfolk will feel more confident and can
get on with their work."
"No. Not here", sighed Ahmet. He interlaced his fingers
and rubbed his hands backwards across his scalp. "We have a
growing population and our agriculture should be expanding if
we're not to suffer from shortages. Now there's plenty of
unused farming land around the town's farms, ideal for
farming, and we should be developing our boys to use it rather
than training them as warriors to fight absent spirits."
By now the platform had become surrounded and Ahmet
suddenly leapt to his feet. "We're in the wrong place! We
should be at the other end!" Veysi followed behind Ahmet as
they picked their way through the gathering crowds. Ahmet
explained over his shoulder, "It's seen as a lack of confidence
not to be near the boys. The family should be in the right place
to watch their boy be offered a place in the patrol."
They had time to find places to stand not far from where
the competing boys were lined for the opening speeches from
eminent townsfolk, including Turgut as the leader of the
patrols. Looking not a bit the elderly woman, Ahmet's mother-
in-law stood restless beside the platform. Her hands patted
and fussed on Ghashmi's shoulders and she was using every
suitable pout and twitch from a lifetime's collection of
expressions, wishing him luck with every expressive stretch of
her brow. Everybody in the town was nervous, not just the
competitors' families, for most families had felt this
apprehension before and knew it well.
"Don't misunderstand my views on this", Ahmet said
softly to Veysi, "I am very much behind Ghashmi's
competing. A win could be the event to pull him out of
childhood and give him confidence, and everybody should be a
competent hunter, but I just think he'll put too much time
towards guarding the city and not enough towards working in
the fields."
As Ahmet explained to Veysi, each of the boys, and there
were seven this year, shot at a row of five tall bales across the
forum, aiming every time for the middle one. Points were
awarded for hitting each of the bales and the highest-scoring
boy won. Each boy had only six arrows, and the whole event
took only minutes to conclude. This year only the winner
would be chosen for the one patrol vacancy. If two boys
received the same highest score, as happened this year for
Ghashmi and another boy called Bachir, there were rules for a
climactic duel between them.
Ghashmi had shot quite well, hitting the centre bale more
centrally than Bachir, but more than accuracy was needed for
the final battle. All but one of the bales were removed to
reduce the target, at which Bachir was chosen to shoot at first.
He would fire two arrows, both times aiming for the one
remaining bale. Then Ghashmi would have two shots, and
they would compare scores. If they scored the same they
would have another round of two more shots each and this
would continue until their scores differed.
However, the competition was more than a test of archery.
The two boys had to race against each other, one with a bow
and one with his feet, for if a boy hit the bale with his first
arrow, his opponent could start running alongside the wooden
platform towards the bale; if he could get there in time he
could pull the bale off the platform, using a rope tied around
the it for the purpose, and cause the second arrow to miss.
The two boys had calmed themselves after the initial
trauma of the competition but the audience was nervous and
fidgeted, becoming more restless as a gap was cleared behind
the bale for safety now that the shield of bales had been
reduced to just one. Bachir took to the platform and drew two
arrows from his quiver. He fitted one to his bow and fired it
straight downwards into the wooden boards. He pulled it from
side to side with one hand to make sure it could be whipped
up quickly into the bow after his first shot. He notched his
first arrow and took aim amid the silence of the arena.
Ghashmi readied himself at the start mark, and he waited.
Bachir fired once, straight into the heart of the bale, swiped at
his second arrow, took only a heartbeat to aim, and sent it
tearing through the apprehensive air. Ghashmi ran too quickly
for his memory to take note of what happened but on hearing
the clatter and scrape of Bachir's second arrow in the lane
beyond the platform, Ghashmi found that he had pulled the
bale away in time. The spectators shouted and pushed him
along as he made his way back around the platform to stand
the lectern for his turn with his bow. Bachir had scored one
point.
Ghashmi mounted the platform, catching Bachir's eye as
they swapped roles. He fixed one arrow in the platform and
notched his second. The crowd was quiet but Ahmet
exclaimed "Go on Son!" and the crowd re-erupted. Ghashmi
held the bow downwards, looking firmly at the arrow's tip,
until he had silence. He raised the bow and his head in unison
and took meticulous aim.
Bachir bent forward on his marks and glowered at the
rope he was running for. Ghashmi took a breath and held it
inside. After a moment to compose himself he released the
bowstring. He lost no time watching the arrow hit the bale, but
snatched up his second and took aim. Bachir was part-way to
the bales by now and Ghashmi tried to spend as long as he
could aiming before he was forced to fire. It was difficult to
gauge Bachir's distance from the bales and from the moment
he freed the second arrow he knew that he had spent too long
on his aim and that Bachir had out-raced him.
The rope slackened in Bachir's hands as the bale fell from
the platform, and they both watched Ghashmi's arrow fly out
of the arena and scurry along the stones in the lane. Ghashmi
had scored one point, and the competition had to continue.
Ghashmi stood down to the starting line for his race,
Bachir returned to the lectern and prepared his arrows. Ahmet
leaned forward and called some stratagem to Ghashmi but the
crowd was noisy and Ghashmi didn't hear a word. He was
poised read for the sprint. When the crowd hushed, Ghashmi
let Bachir into the corner of his eye and waited. Then he heard
the swipe of the bowstring and watched the arrow dive
towards the bale. He pushed the ground away and took off,
hurtling past the screaming faces which were silent to him.
The first arrow hit home. As Ghashmi picked up the rope and
heaved he watched the bale tumble off the platform and come
to rest. Looking down at it he saw two arrows fixed in the
straw. He closed his eyes for a second to keep the panic out.
Once more Ghashmi strode back to the podium, but when
he stood at the lectern he found himself struggling for breath.
He knew he had to score with both arrows this time to force
the final into a third round, but his aim would be poor now
that he was shaking. He had run twice and felt exhausted, and
yet Bachir could run so fast and showed no signs of tiring at
all.
As the crowd quietened Ahmet called, "This time,
Ghashmi, fastest arrows you've ever fired!" Bachir was ready
on the start line. Ghashmi took two arrows from his quiver
and shot one into the floor. He took a series of longer and
longer breaths, then he notched his bow and filled his lungs.
He knew he had to win with these two arrows. He would
get no reprise and no forgiveness would his conscience spare
him until the tournament came again next year. Certainly these
arrows had to be special arrows. He pulled the chord back to
his right shoulder and let two fingers hold it there calmly. He
opened and clenched his left hand while holding the bow, to
make his grip comfortable. He looked at the fletches on the
arrow and the way in which the wood had been carefully split
along its grain to take them. He looked down the smooth shaft
and watched the silver sunlight splash on the arrow's tip.
Blurred in the distance was the row of bales. With a blink he
re-focused on them and aligned his arrow with the bale.
The crowd was silent and was afraid to move lest it
disturbed either boy. Ghashmi tilted back his head and aimed
the arrow far above its usual path. The bowstring lashed
forward and the arrow was hurled high above the crowds and
the cubic buildings. On hearing the bow's gasp but not yet
seeing the arrow hit the bale in front of him, Bachir had to
struggle not to fall over his start line. Still nobody spoke but
all of the crowd's heads tracked the arrow high above them as
it streaked upwards before the clouds. Everybody in the crowd
gaped at it, except Ahmet, who knew what Ghashmi had in
mind.
Bachir stood up slightly in indecision, while Ghashmi
calmly pulled his second arrow from the floor. Still holding
the same breath so as to keep himself steady, he prepared for
his second shot. He was gazing at the row of bales, but in his
imagination he was positioning his first shot high above him.
Under his control it hovered like a kestrel far above the bales,
and then as it gently began to creep downwards its fletches
tucked into its sides and pointed its tip towards the heart of
the bale. Some of the onlookers standing to the sides of the
bale became uneasy, shuffling backwards against the weight
of the crowd behind them. Ghashmi began to relax his string
fingers, very gradually so that the string wouldn't vibrate when
released. Then as fast as the arrow leapt from his bow,
Ghashmi's eyesight chased it through the air. It speared the
bale in the same second as the first arrow speared the wooden
boards a foot in front of it with a loud beat. Bachir stood on
his mark in astonishment, but Ghashmi was wincing and
wincing.
Ahmet walked to him but he stepped down from the
platform and turned his back to him. The crowd sighed in
admiration and solace, then the applause broke. Ahmet's
shoulders sank and he dropped his head so that he wouldn't
catch Ghashmi's hurt looks and have to smile. He was pleased
at least to see his son offer his hand to Bachir, the boys
exchanging congratulations.
Ghashmi sat through the finishing ceremony with nothing
in his head.
"There are occasions", preached Turgut in his speech, the
leader of the patrols, as he commented on Ghashmi's
performance, "There are occasions during the hunt when
patience is essential. One must give the quarry its run until the
moment for attack is ready. To try to hasten the hunt shows
inexperience and can be one's downfall". He did not,
Ghashmi's temper noted, acknowledge the need for
innovation.
Later that day, when the dreadful act of shrugging off the
commiseration of his family had been finished with, Ghashmi
found a peaceful place to sit on the outskirts of the farm
buildings, leaning against a grain store. He was at least proud
that he'd come second, and pleased at how close he'd been to
winning. For his every painful re-enacting of the final arrows,
he imagined ten times over that he had won.
From where he sat, Ghashmi looked out over large fields
which his father ploughed. They were brown and beautifully
green and bands of light wafted across them as clouds wafted
over the sun. The wind lay in the fields and ran its hands over
the sleeping corn, and barley leas blushed and blanched as
they swayed. Over the horizon, where Ghashmi had never
been, he knew there were thick marshes where nothing but
pungent weeds could grow, but around to the north of the
town were expanses of unused land, easy to irrigate, close to
the town, perfect for agriculture; but Turgut told him that
Eridu could cope without expansion and that to take from the
Earth what it could not deny one was "licentious and
dissolute". The Annunaki would be affronted. Not for many
years, he said, would Eridu's population be large enough to
warrant extending the farmland. For Ghashmi this was a
disappointing thought because with an increased land area
belonging to the town would be brought a need for more
patrols, and he would surely be selected.
Ghashmi could have spent the rest of the day admiring the
landscape if Veysi hadn't sat down unexpectedly at his side
and introduced himself.
"Did you see the tournament this morning?" asked
Ghashmi once the conversation was established. "I didn't
win."
"Certainly I saw it. You're very good, I must say that, very
entertaining. It was worth missing first place for that display
you gave. Did you see the people down by the bales when they
saw that arrow coming down on them?"
Ghashmi arched his eyebrows and looked sideways at
Veysi.
"I'm glad it was worth it". Veysi didn't see his face and
couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic.
"Are you bitter?"
"No, no", said Ghashmi, hoping Veysi did not think him
brash.
"Your father was pleased. You made him very proud."
"Not as proud as I could have made him."
"No, but he'd be first to realise that archery isn't the most
important skill to learn."
"The town does need protecting, though", argued
Ghashmi. "No amount of farming can protect the town."
"Protect it from what?" asked Veysi as if knowing that
Ghashmi couldn't answer him. He was hoping to convince
Ghashmi that he needed to concentrate more on farming than
on heroism.
"From whatever might attack. Patrols of archers are the
defence against unpredictable attack. Known attacks can be
prevented."
"But there is nothing that could attack the town, is there?"
Veysi was not worried but he found himself sounding
unsettled. He had thought that he would direct the
conversation. He had thoughts he wanted to instil in Ghashmi,
but rather than tell him factually he had planned to let
Ghashmi develop them himself by posing him deliberately
worded questions.
"Are the patrols called upon often?"
"I don't think they've been used for a few years, but they
can't be disbanded. Anyway they guard just as well against
fear as they do against wild animals or hoards."
Veysi was lost. He had made it his goal to convince
Ghashmi that the patrols were a defence against nothing more
than superstition, but if Ghashmi had already thought about it
then he could have no further influence.
Ghashmi continued. "They need to be ready for when they
are needed. When an attack comes we'll wish with hindsight
that we had started training now, and there is nothing more
frustrating than the clarity hindsight can bring. This way we
can congratulate ourselves on the day of attack on being so
well prepared". The conversation suffered a pause and
Ghashmi read a question into it. He said "Attacks are likely to
come, although maybe not in my generation. The world covers
a colossal area. I've seen maps extending in all directions and I
know that the world is expanding. We have already seen
immigrants come from eastern lands which we didn't know
even existed. We can't possibly know how many other races
are developing and we don't know if we can trade or even talk
with them. The links we have to Nippur are too weak for us to
call on them when we would like to, so we have only one
strategy. We must be ready to defend ourselves and at an
hour's notice."
Veysi watched a dog wandering on the far side of the
field, nuzzling the ground occasionally to see what it could
find.
"So", Veysi said at length, "You do think that you will be
under threat some day, do you?"
"Yes, the questions we need answered are when it will be
and how we can anticipate it."
"Then if the town is to be patrolled you must consider
what the patrols' aims are. They exist so that the townsfolk
can go about their lives without having to worry about safety -
that ability is the benefit of patrols. Now, if the farmers give
up farming and the craftsmen ignore their arts, the patrols are
redundant". Veysi was tired of these complicated arguments,
especially because what he wanted to say was so simple. "You
should, I think, concentrate on farming. That is the best way
for you to make use of the work done by the patrols. Your
father could use your help. He has to feed his family and he
could work shorter hours if he had your help. I know that
archery is challenging and that you enjoy it but it should be a
secondary skill for you. If you find no success in archery you'll
want to fall back on farming, and as a farmer you could still
practice your archery but they must be done in that order."
"Farming is so mundane", sighed Ghashmi. "I appreciate
how hard my father works, but that he works hard is no reason
for me to have a hard life if I can avoid one."
"Farming's not hard. It's laborious, true, but there are no
worries over security or money, and that will be important to
you when you are older. There will still be time for archery."
Ghashmi didn't want to offend Veysi, so he had to choose
his words tactfully. "I don't see any excitement in farming."
"When you're older you'll value excitement less.
Excitement in jobs comes only with risks, and when you are
trying to feed a family you'll not call risks exciting, you'll
call
them frightening. You can get thrills from other things. I
wouldn't have persevered as a farmer if I hadn't been able to
spend my evenings telling stories."
Ghashmi felt awkward again, Veysi could tell. Ghashmi
knew that he would eventually settle on farming as a living,
but it was worth a token struggle at this age just to make sure
that he was bound enough to a farming life to feel secure in it.
"I don't really expect to spend my life in a patrol",
Ghashmi admitted.
"It couldn't be done as a secondary job, it would need hours of
practice of hunting, medical skills, keeping strong and fit."
"Ha! Farming will do that much."
"And I do quite enjoy the evenings we spend around the
fire."
"Then I must say you should farm and tell stories for the
rest of your life. Try your hand at other skills first by all
means, if you get the chance, but settle on farming."
They both felt a little relieved to have finished arguing. It
had been a discussion which had needed to be held and they
were glad it was finished and behind them. The sun glowed a
little warmer, they both thought.
"I had this conversation with my father", Veysi
reminisced. "It was in the morning, and then in the afternoon
he taught me to tell stories."
"In a day?"
"Yes". He glowed a little warmer himself at the memory
of his father.
"You make it sound as though he handed the ability to you
as a gift; in a parcel perhaps."
"It was a gift. And it was given then and there. People
pick up story- telling after years of listening to stories, but
this
gift is something more than fiction. It's the ability to control
somebody, to substitute an environment of your own
concoction for the one they take as real in a way that makes
the target believe anything you wish him to. Very useful it can
be. I'll give it to you in time if you would like me to, when you
need it."
Ghashmi was sceptical. "Will you be at the harrow
tonight?"
"Yes, I'll ask Ahmet to round up some of his friends". He
took a while to raise himself to his feet but Ghashmi didn't
offer to help him because he assumed that Veysi mimicked
Ahmet in his pride; and squinting profoundly into the sun
Veysi did look very much like a man who was justly proud.
"Ahmet will want to hear more about where I've been since he
last saw me at Nippur". If he had been speaking to someone
his own age Veysi would have told how sentimental he was
feeling and how he was aching to talk more with Ahmet.
_

"Let me tell you", said Ahmet, "the tale". He seated
himself on the harrow and, brushing a fly from his sleeve, he
began.
"Veysi and I met for the first time since our childhood at
the E-Kur at Nippur, where we discussed the crisis with the
priests", Ahmet told his audience from his perch on the
harrow outside his house. "It was in solemn debate with the
priests that for the first time since my childhood when my
mother told me tales of gods and heroes, I heard the name
Tiawath. The name conjured up the same almost-forgotten
flavour of dread and mystery then as it does now. Tiawath.
Veysi had talked with travellers from Larsa, who told of a
great animal building a nest on the southern bank of the Gulf.
Herdsmen had complained that it had eaten livestock they had
been driving to market in the great city of Ur. Veysi had
promised the priests that he would lead a few men in search of
the animal's lair, in the role of scouts at least. If we did
nothing else we could report on what we found and strip the
beast of the Larsans' hyperbole. Quite why Veysi had been
given the task I can't recall, nor why I was finally the only one
to join him, though it was true that of those who actually
believed the reports, only a few were unafraid to join us."
Veysi listened with interest, trying independently to
construct a history from what he could remember and hoping
that he would get his chance to sit on the harrow and finish the
story. If he were to make himself a friend to the gentlemen of
Eridu then there would be no more natural way than to
entrance them with the wonder of the stories he was capable
of telling, and Ahmet could give him no greater welcome to
the town than to give him such an opportunity. For now,
Ahmet continued.
"Veysi and I packed some provisions into backpacks and
left within days of the discussions. We travelled first to
Ninevah where we spent some days replenishing our supplies
and investigating local thinking. We heard more reports of the
animal from travelling merchants, who told us what they knew
of the animal. They said that it was a survivor of Merodach's
battle against Tiawath and her hoards. They said that from the
massacre perhaps one, perhaps more, had escaped. Despite
their advice we set off again for the Tigris' estuary."
Veysi wanted to hear Ahmet ask him to continue the story,
but he was patient. He tried to catch Ahmet's eye so that
Ahmet would smile to say "I'll let you speak soon."
"We hugged the southern bank of the Gulf for nearly a
month, walking far every day for we were both eager to have
the job in our pasts and return home. One morning, shortly
after we had woken and set out for the day's hike, we came to
a region where the sand was stained and burnt. Our first
thoughts were of course to link the signs with the monster and
it stunned us to think that we had camped so close by the
previous night."
Some of the gathered townsfolk looked at Veysi in awe,
and Veysi would have liked to tell them all just what happened
next and continue the story, but Ahmet was still talking.
"We walked for most of the day over ground that seemed
unnaturally damaged. By evening we were walking in the
shadow of black cliffs which rose behind us a little way from
the water. I kept my eyes on the water's surface and Veysi
watched for movement from the cliff's crevices as we made
our way between the two.
"This is where my part of the tale ends. What happened in
the following days Veysi can describe better than I can, so I
will let him". It was an abrupt end and it left the audience
anxious to hear Veysi's account. Ahmet raised himself from
the harrow and Veysi changed places with him. Veysi gave
Ahmet a grateful smile as they passed for it had been a while
since he had sat where he so loved to sit, in front of an
audience.
At his home in Nippur Veysi would replay his full life in
his head and, mixing it with his sparkling story-teller's skill,
he could concoct tales that could open anyone's eyes wide into
stares of amazement. When he took his place on the harrow
and the small audience saw his golden face shimmering
through the fire's fumes, the gentlemen turned so quiet that the
children's snores and the crickets' concert were the only noises
to be heard between his words.
"As night began to fall we saw a chasm which began
where the cliffs met the sand and which sank backwards and
downwards into the ground beneath the cliffs. There was an
odour in the air. Most noticeable were the dark red stains on
the rocks at the chasm's entrance. We didn't want to risk an
exploration of the crevice in the poor light, so we used the
remaining daylight to climb the cliff and we bedded down in a
small but deep recess near the top of the cliff, into which
anything bigger than a man would be unable to come.
"We took turns sleeping. Sometimes there were noises
from below, breathing that sounded more like the raking of
stones. At one time as I kept watch, I saw the faint moonlight
shimmer as hot clouds of air rose up past our recess. I
shivered all through the night and by morning I was very tired.
Although we were both conscious, we weren't woken up until
we heard a tremendous hissing shake the rock, like a snake's
but so violent that its echo rumbled up and down the cliffs for
several moments after its sound had stopped. Veysi and I
crept to the edge of the recess and peered down the cliff
towards the water's edge. I didn't see anything until Veysi
pointed to a grey-green mass moving over the rocks a hundred
yards or more farther along the bank. We did not see enough
of it to make out its features, only its colour and size.
"It was the first time we had known for sure that the
reports were true. As the animal moved out of sight the shock
of having seen it moving pinned us to the rock face for several
silent minutes before we decided that we should use the
animal's absence to explore its lair. We climbed down to the
crevice and stepped cautiously inside. We considered going in
one at a time, while the other kept watch, but neither of us
took to the idea of entering alone, although it didn't occur to
us
that there might have been another animal still waiting inside.
"We had to light a torch before we had gone far from the
daylight. There were carcasses to one side of the crevice and
the floor on the other side was thick with sand. We felt
nauseous at the smell. As we walked into the crevice the
ceiling became very low and stopped us going any farther. We
came back to the sandy area and saw that it was heaped into a
mound, waist-high. When I touched it I was surprised to feel
that it contained something hard just below the surface. We
were both stunned when we dug away some of the sand and
saw a large egg beneath. It felt smooth but there were marbled
lines covering the surface, as though it were wrapped inside
the film of a sunlit bubble.
"We knew that we would need time to think what to do
but also that we shouldn't spend any more time in that cave
than we had to, so we hurried outside again and climbed back
up to the recess in the cliff to consider our course of action.
We could have returned to Nippur without the egg, or
smashed it to kill what was inside, but to convince the people
of Nippur that the stories were true we decided it would be
best if we could steal the egg and carry it back to Nippur.
Killing the mother would have been too dangerous without
others there to help us. But if there was anything more
dangerous than the mother herself then it was the ignorance of
the people of Nippur, and merely showing them that they were
going to have to send a party of men to kill the animal was
more than half the battle against it.
"The sky was beginning to get dark. We weren't sure that
the mother was still away from the crevice, so we decided to
wait until morning before taking the egg. We collected four
straight branches from the cliff-top so that the next morning
we could construct a device for carrying the egg. We
considered sleeping comfortably in the woods, but we were
nervous about doing so and soon decided to return to the
recess we had slept in the night before.
"Again we took turns to sleep and by morning we were
both aching. Once again we heard the animal's waking scream
and we waited until the heavy slaps of its feet had died in the
distance, not daring to try to look at it in case it saw us.
Taking the four branches with us we climbed down to the
animal's lair and gingerly crept inside.
"We lashed the branches together to form a rectangle
slightly narrower than the width of the egg, so that we could
carry it like we would carry a stretcher. We made our way out
of the cave and started east without hesitation. Fortunately we
didn't meet again with the mother, but recollecting the horror
of our first sight of it was enough to keep us wary for the rest
of the journey. Once again we hugged the edge of the Gulf,
but when we passed the Tigris' estuary and were on our way
north-west to Nippur, we encountered our first great setback.
"We had enjoyed some success on our journey - nobody
could have doubted our findings when presented with the egg.
Unfortunately our luck was exhausted. I had wandered a little
way from the camp to collect straw to start the fire, and as I
was returning I was startled to see a stranger walking
alongside me, only yards away. I stopped suddenly but he
continued and seemed not to have seen me, neither of us had
been expecting not to be alone. I inched towards a tree, not
sure yet whether I wanted to alert him to me. As I watched him
he gestured to an invisible accomplice and scanning the scrub
I found another man creeping behind him. It was not difficult
to reach up to the low branches of the pine tree beside me and
pull myself up into its cover, from which hiding place I
watched the two men advance on the camp. Their plain clothes
gave no indication of where they were from, nor could I infer
anything from their speech as they were keeping as quiet as
they could.
"I thought for a moment that I should assume their worst
intentions and act to protect Ahmet, taking advantage of my
ability to surprise them, but until I was sure that my
assumptions were correct I decided to remain unobserved.
They neared Ahmet, who was huddled over a tree-stump
splintering wood with a hatchet, and one after the other they
drew knives. My first instinct was to call out, to warn Ahmet
and to distract the two thieves, but once the four of us had
been alerted to each other a stand-off would leave Ahmet and
me with no advantage. I chose to take a risk. I let them
advance on Ahmet, I waited until the last possible moment
when the knife-edges were about to be launched, before
dropping from the tree with an alarming scream and lunging
across the forest floor with arms flailing, trying to prolong the
invaders' petrifaction. To plan, in as long as took for his head
to spin around, Ahmet had summarised the situation, and he
swung his hatchet fiercely into the side of one of the men's
knees.
"After the ensuing moments of frenzy, Ahmet and I were
standing together, armed, a few yards from the two thieves.
One of them was writhing on the floor, alternately clutching at
his leg and thrashing his arms against the ground, his partner
was hovering above him with one eye on the flowing wound
and one on me and Ahmet, both eyes frantic. He stood and
took a few steps towards us then cowered back, then swung
his knife wildly through the air in a frustrated and ineffective
show of strength. Just as Ahmet and I were regaining our
composure our concert was sundered by the most unfortunate
event.
The thief grasped a stick from the floor and, angered to
the strength of Merodach, brought it down on the crown of the
egg which the thieves must surely have been bent upon.
Shards of shell hailed crazily through the forest air, their
careers slowed painfully by the sudden quickening of our eyes.
Sunlight was focused and sprayed as sticky albumen spewed
in glossy slabs and saliva-trails across the sky. When the last
fragments of shell had slipped from the air and joined the
thousand others littered amongst the pine-needles we had to
return our attention to the two thieves, although we couldn't
ignore the sight of the last pastel flakes suspended on dewy
threads being slowly lowered to the earth from the edges of
the ruined egg, tiny wet pendulums ticking with the
movements of air.
"Before the heaviness of dismay had left us the thieves
were both afoot and were struggling into the trees. As our
heads cleared of tragedy and we remembered the danger at
hand, we saw them become obscured by the growing stretch of
forest between us and them, and we were prepared to let them
go.
"We approached the remaining half-egg. As the changing
perspective separated its near and far edges we saw what
might have been the silhouette of the embryo beneath the pool
of liquid. We couldn't see it clearly and we spent no time
investigating it. The proof which we had intended to present to
the townsfolk of Nippur had been destroyed, and that meant
we would be unable to rouse a posse to return to the Gulf to
slay the mother. We salvaged a few of the larger pieces of
shell to take home with us, but they could have been broken
pottery to a sceptic, so thick were they. We decided that to
guard against the thieves' return, perhaps in greater numbers,
we should pack up and walk through the night, so we prepared
our packs unhappily, slung them onto our backs, and plodded
from the campsite towards the west once more, carefully
cradling the pieces of shell in our hands."
The audience crouching in the inflamed darkness was
silent. Even Ahmet had nothing to say. The blend of emotions
displayed on his face was so complex and so subtle that it was
hard to rate his melancholia above his reminiscence. After
some time Veysi concluded the story. "The priests at the E-
Kur heard our accounts and I am sure they believed every
word, but they said there would be nothing gained by showing
the townsfolk the fragments of egg which, by the time we had
reached Nippur, had faded almost entirely to white."
Veysi rose from the harrow and stood ponderously for a
few moments before leaving the congregation for the house.
Ahmet stood and followed him. Very little conversation
remained once they had left and soon small groups said
goodnight and went home, until the last one or two left the
harrow alone in what was now silence, for even the crickets
were pensive.
_

Inside their house Ghashmi saw Ahmet become suddenly
solemn.
"Ghashmi, we need to help Eridu. This fear of the
Annunaki will suffocate the town". Ahmet was rapping his
knuckles together. Ghashmi, who was sitting on Ahmet's bed,
watched him pace from side to side, wondering what had
brought the subject so suddenly to Ahmet's mind. "But it's an
impossible task to convince them of it". Ahmet's head moved
between glancing down at the floor and straining up at the
ceiling, as though in symbolism of his mixed depression and
frustration. He could see that solutions were not to be found in
Eridu. To manage the growth of Eridu was an unenviable task,
and Responsibility was there listening to decided what the
task should entail and whose it should be.
"People are not going to listen to your opinions", said
Ghashmi, "You've not been outside the town boundaries since
you came here from Nippur. In their eyes, how could you
know whether or not there is anything to guard against?
Perhaps Veysi could convince them, he is well-travelled."
"No, nobody here knows him. Outsiders' opinions have no
weight. But your opinion would be valued."
In the rhythm of dialogue Ghashmi opened his mouth to
reply, but stopped on his late registration of what Ahmet had
said. "How could I help?" Amid the flood of apprehension,
Ghashmi felt Responsibility slap him on the shoulder. "I
would have to leave Eridu."
"Yes, you would travel to a village called Erech where
Veysi stayed before coming here. He told me what they have
in excess and what they lack - their needs complement ours
almost exactly. If we could contact them and do business we
would not only be helping Eridu and Erech but we would be
learning something about what is outside Eridu, and that will
help to lessen the people's introversion."
"Could I do it?" asked Ghashmi.
"Veysi will tell you how to get to Erech". He eyed
Ghashmi to get his attention, which the boy was having
difficulty maintaining.
Ahmet said, "There are two demons to watch for. The
lesser is the Annunaki the townsfolk worry about, the greater
is the worry itself. If you were to meet the Annunaki you'd be
pushed to get yourself away; if you were to kill one and prove
it to the people you would have great respect. But you won't
have helped. In a short while the people will have started to
worry again. If you can kill the greater demon, their fear, you
will have helped immeasurably." Ahmet inspired. "If you
could bring a party from Erech to Eridu you would show that
the countryside is safe, and even those who were still afraid
would be embarrassed to refuse to travel to Erech if their
people had come here first."
The boy and the man changed positions. Ahmet sat on the
bed to talk to Ghashmi, but Ghashmi stood to pace back and
forth.
"Can you be sure there are no Annunaki?" asked Ghashmi
coyly, afraid that the question was childish. He remembered a
question he had meant to ask earlier. "Did you really - " he
was careful not to show that he had been duped.
"How much of your story was true? What did you find at the
Gulf?" He wanted to err on the side of cynicism so he added,
"Did you go to the Gulf at all?"
"We were scouts and we went to the Gulf, but we found
nothing. I like to think that I was sceptical at the time, and
since then I have become convinced that we wasted a journey.
But even without the Annunaki you won't have a safe
journey."
"I know", said Ghashmi, who had been nodding
purposefully at what Ahmet had been saying. "The journey
has to be made, doesn't it?" On his last word a shuffle at the
room's entrance made Ghashmi turn to see Veysi enter.
"Five or six days' walk", said Ahmet in an oblique answer
to the question. "There is a very dense conifer forest a day east
of here - that is your first milestone". That Ahmet seemed
already to have ascertained the way to Erech made Ghashmi
suspect that he had been central to Ahmet's plan some time
before his consent had been given.
Veysi had settled himself on the hearth very casually.
"The forest is too dense to go through", he said as if with the
previous and sly union of his plans with Ahmet's so too had
their speech been united, "so you should skirt it to the south.
When you see it thinning, and it will become thinner suddenly
so you won't mistake it, enter the forest and head north-east.
It's quite a small village but all the most obvious paths lead to
it."
"Would I get there more easily if you accompanied me?
They would listen to you more readily". He might have
sounded pitiful but Ahmet and Veysi knew (and Ghashmi had
counted on this) that if Ghashmi's reason for having company
was anything but the success of his errand then he wouldn't
have said anything.
Veysi said, "No, I'd slow you down. You'd be quicker to
go on your own even if you didn't find the best route."
"You should go as soon as possible", added Ahmet. "If the
townsfolk hear that you are planning to go they might try to
stop you."
"What about Nan?"
"I will talk to her for you. She understands."
"You will have to talk to the whole town, judging by their
reactions", said Veysi, drawing the others' attention to
women's voices which they found they could hear through the
wall. Ahmet looked at Veysi, thinking that the comment had
been innocent, but during the series of looks they interchanged
it appeared that there was more to it.
"Somebody asked me if our story was true", Veysi
explained. "The patrol leader?"
"Turgut."
"I thought he was pushing for a fight, it seemed such an
unnecessary question, but he wasn't. There were others
waiting to hear my answer and I took a few moments to tell
them that it was all nonsense". Ahmet's patent concern made
Veysi feel defensive, causing his explanation to become
apologetic. "In my flusterment I maybe didn't sound very
earnest. I thought when I left them that
- "
Ahmet knew the rest. "We shouldn't have made it up!"
"It might have seemed", persevered Veysi, "it might have
looked as though I had told them something that you wouldn't
have wanted me to tell them and was trying to take it back".
Ahmet was looking anxious.
"I should have known better", was what he said. "They'll
see this as their final proof. After all these years of battling
with their superstition I tell them a story like that! Perhaps I
could tell them that it wasn't true". His voice sounded hopeful.
"They can see that this is contrary to everything I have ever
said. It's obviously not true."
"No good", said Veysi. "It wasn't you who led them on, it
was me. They think you've kept this a secret all these years".
The women's voices pervading through the sandy walls were
not clear, the actual words could not be made out but the
intonations of shock and gossip were all that needed to be
heard.
"When you talk to the people in Erech", Ahmet said as he
turned wearily to Ghashmi, "they might be frightened to come
here in case they come to harm from the Annunaki on the
journey, but you'd better not tell them you don't believe in
monsters. You don't want to offend them."
Only minutes earlier Ghashmi could have succumbed to
Veysi's tale, but so much had now been revealed and denied
that he was surprised that the townsfolk could have been so
easily misled. The source of his frustration was that they had
been so carelessly misled.
"This makes the journey even more important, doesn't it?"
said Ghashmi, resigning himself to what had to be done. It
took a minute or two of silence for him to be able to think
about details. Who would he speak to on his arrival? Should
he take a gift? How many people should he bring back, and of
what professions?
"Have either of you any advice?"
"Leave in the morning", said Ahmet, "as soon as you're
up."
_

The sun wasn't yet warm when Ghashmi left the house
early the next morning, the whole Earth still looked shady.
Hearing someone behind him, Ghashmi turned to see Veysi
approach him and to hear him speak. "I can't give you
anything material to take with you, but I can teach you the
ability I have if you want me to."
"Hypnosis?" Ghashmi wasn't sure what to call it. "You
would like to share it with me?"
"I cannot share it", Veysi said. "Either I have it or you
have". Ghashmi would have been embarrassed to accept when
he knew he was so sceptical, but it would have been awkward
to decline. Certainly, Veysi sounded so sincere that he could
not possibly have been trying to give Ghashmi just a dose of
morale. He genuinely felt that he had a gift of power.
"I will need any help you can give me if I am going alone",
conceded Ghashmi tactfully. Veysi smiled a little and took
Ghashmi's arm, leading him on a short walk away from the
house. When Ahmet appeared from the house a short while
later he saw Ghashmi and Veysi still in conversation not far
away. As he tied the laces on his tunic he watched Veysi
gesticulating, all the time keeping his concentration fixed on
Ghashmi's eyes. Even when he paused for Ghashmi to ask a
question, his eyes were still inculcating something in
Ghashmi, to whom each of Veysi's eyes reflected the morning
light like the sunlit bubble he had likened the mythical lizard's
egg to the night before.
When they returned to the house and greeted Ahmet,
Ghashmi was looking composed. One or two farmers were
now to be seen dragging tools and leading yoked oxen into the
fields now that Ea had risen from the Gulf and attributed the
people with abilities ready for whatever confronted them that
day.
"I'm ready to set off now", Ghashmi told Ahmet with
conviction, adjusting his bow which was slung around him,
and tightening by one hole the belt which held a bag of food
around his waste.
Ahmet said "Well done. Now remember, Eridu's future is
under your protection."
Ghashmi nodded. "I'll be alright". He turned away, chose a
spot on the eastern horizon and began to walk.
"Kill it before it kills Eridu", Ahmet called after him.
_

Ghashmi had been away from Eridu before but not alone,
and this time he could not tell whether the thrill of adventure
was overridden by another feeling which he could not quite
identify. Whatever it was, Ghashmi tried not to touch upon it.
On leaving Eridu he took the route which Veysi had
suggested, reaching the pine forest by nightfall and building a
shelter there in what little light the stars offered him. It was
a
mild night but he had resolved to build a shelter every night on
the southern edge of the forest and to camouflage it with
foliage, not to be seen by bandits. During the daylight hours
he walked continually, some time being reserved for hunting
and cooking, and although he had resolved also to conserve
himself by resting from sun-down to sun-up, he found himself
feeling safer when he kept on the move until he needed to
sleep.
On the fourth day he noticed a change in the woods; he
could see farther into them than he had been able to until then.
He saw more than one place where he could have entered the
forest, so he chose a path which was more sunlit than the
others and followed it off the plains.
The woods were still dense in some areas and progress
was slow and laborious, but Ghashmi enjoyed the unfamiliar
feel of the opulent forest floor underfoot, and very pleasant he
found the honey-coloured sunlight dripping through the leafy
parasols. He no longer needed to respond to the first growls of
hunger with the urgent assiduity required on the plains where
he had to allow time for the difficulty of hunting. In the forest
fruit and wildlife was abundant and he could eat at will. After
a day's trek through the forest he noticed a change in his
environment, the woods were not so inextricable as Ghashmi
tried to plot his course ahead of him, and he saw the remains
of men's fires occasionally. Several patches of clear ground
spotted the forest and as Ghashmi advanced mile after mile
they grew, connected, and like the lichen prospering on the
trees they blended to form larger areas. From searching
through the bush for corridors of a few clear yards to quicken
his route, Ghashmi progressed to striding across small, wood-
locked meadows, avoiding the thickets scattered there, and
when he came almost finally to a clearing large enough to
cause him to pause in his footsteps to decide which of the
available outlets to use, Ghashmi felt that the correct path
would lead him very soon to Erech.
In examining the area Ghashmi noticed that the trees were
blackened in places as if they were burnt. There was an untidy
pile of what looked like kindling nearby. Ghashmi wasn't sure
why. He saw pieces of burnt wood scattered amongst the
scrub underfoot. Some of the trees were lying broken beside
their untidy stumps. It looked as though this part of the forest
had been wrenched into pieces by a giant and dropped
carelessly back into the clearing. From his height a giant could
have seen the line of men at the edges of the clearing, creeping
behind bushes, encircling their quarry.
Ghashmi heard what sounded like a heavy breath beside
him, and staggered a few steps in surprise before turning to
see a small cloud of smoke rise from behind a group of trees.
He heard a scrape, like a thick poker being shoved hard into
coals, and he took a few more steps back. The trees were
sunlit but Ghashmi couldn't see anything through the thick
foliage. Then he caught a movement and it scared him.
Something beyond the trees had moved. Again there was a
rasp and another billow of smoke and sparks rose upwards.
Ghashmi felt a mixture of fear and strength rush through
him and the feeling frightened him all the more. He carefully
took his bow from his back, pulled an arrow from his quiver,
and notched it firmly. He could see the rustling in the branches
in front of him, twenty yards away. Now he started to
concentrate. He looked at the brown and smooth shaft of the
arrow, scanned down towards the woven grip on the bow,
onwards to the metal-clad tip shining in the sunlight.
With a subtle change in his eyes' focus he saw, just
beyond the arrow's tip, a creature's head rise out of the
greenery and stare sideways at him out of its bulbous eye. The
tiniest release of pressure from his string-fingers sent the
twine whipping forward and the horse whinnied as it reared
up.
Shouts flew around the clearing from men who were by
then running past Ghashmi after the horse. After a moment
during which the horse crooked its hind legs ready for the
chase and heaved its weight to one side, it galloped away into
the woods with a fast drumming beneath its feet.
Seeing the arrow fix into a tree Ghashmi ran to recover it
before choosing to flee into the forest to avoid the men he had
seen. From the cover of the trees he stopped to look behind
him but espied no-one, so he hurried onwards, careless of
direction, through one more clearing before he disappeared
into the depths of the forest. In the clearing he passed a
smoking smith's forge and wood-pile, and holding a glowing
poker was a pinafored blacksmith who gazed in bewilderment
as Ghashmi leapt past him and into the trees.
It was soon afterwards when Ghashmi discovered the first
house. When he saw it he realised that if he had been more
observant he could have seen the village from farther back in
the forest. Seeing the buildings after searching for them for so
long, the sight came as a shock as if they had been searching
for him, and he side-stepped to a secret recess behind a high
bank of brambles so that he could not be seen.
What had caused him to walk so blindly towards them, he
realised now as he peered between swathes of thorns at the
three houses he could discern from still within the woods, was
that they were made of the trees themselves; it was a wooden
village. It was stunning enough to see houses that Ghashmi
could not recognise from any angle in any light, but to see
houses built so strangely and not even of stone was all that
was needed to push home to Ghashmi that there really was a
village built here within the pine forests.
Ghashmi left the obscurity of the bramble-bank and when
he arrived at the houses he saw that many more structures
were beyond them - barns, stables, pens. The ground was not
like the dusty streets of Eridu, it was darker and a little damp
in the shadows. Although the village was unarguably
picturesque Ghashmi wondered how it withstood high winds
and, despite the thick forest that protected the village, there
were indeed two houses that Ghashmi noticed which were
having their walls repaired.
A woman carrying a pitcher saw Ghashmi and it was
patent that she wondered who the newcomer was. Ghashmi
thought that perhaps he should speak to her; if he was seen to
avoid their contact people might find him suspicious;
fortunately a hut passed between them before the decision had
to be made and Ghashmi adjusted his speed so that the hut's
locus kept him hidden. Having avoided his first encounter
Ghashmi felt that he might have missed an opportunity. He
would have to speak to someone before one of the inhabitants
mentioned him to another, who conjectured that he appeared
shifty, and they might form an opinion of him before he had
chance to influence it. He determined to find the market,
presuming there was one, because in a market there was less
of a barrier between strangers talking.
Ghashmi had started to dawdle, intrigued by the thatched
roofs and stick sheds. He saw some locals but was careful not
to catch their eyes. However when he saw the blacksmith he
had seen in the woods he gazed for a little too long and by the
time his stare was fixed firmly on the ground he could see in
his peripheral vision that the blacksmith was approaching
him. When he was close enough that there was no other
option, Ghashmi decided to notice him. He did the best he
could to smile.
"Give me your bow", the blacksmith demanded. He
snatched Ghashmi's arm in an aggressive grip and pulled at
the bowstring across Ghashmi's chest. Rather than risk
damage to his bow or to his chances of reconciliation with the
smith, Ghashmi offered only a token struggle as he let the bow
be lifted from him.
"What do you want with it?"
"You're not safe with it." The blacksmith had already
turned away, which gave Ghashmi his first chance to look him
over. His huge arms hung on either side like butchers'
carcasses; black folds of hair rested across the top of his back
which, even through the coarse cloth he wore, was clearly
divided at the spine into two cumuliform masses of muscles,
each the size of a smaller man's torso.
"I didn't know what it was!" Ghashmi pleaded. "I thought
it was dangerous."
"A dangerous horse", repeated the mountain-man
sardonically, "Are horses dangerous where you come from?"
Grasping the chance to talk about home, Ghashmi said, "I
come from Eridu and, no, our horses aren't dangerous". The
blacksmith entered one of the wooden houses, Ghashmi after
him without invitation. "This is the first time one of us has
come here, I don't know where the Annunaki prey, and if ten
of your horses are maimed so that I can travel safely then
that's a bargain!"
The blacksmith stood on the far side of a table and
slammed the bow onto it. In addition to his existing quarrels
with Ghashmi, his evident resentment must have been caused
by the youth's effrontery to enter the house. He glared into
each of Ghashmi's pupils in turn, but his lack of motivity left
him baffled at Ghashmi's resolve.
"You're quite right, of course", he concluded, suddenly co-
operative. He took up the bow in order to hand it back to its
owner but, not wanting to seem totally submissive, he threw it
to him instead. Ghashmi was a little clumsy in catching it,
partly because he was surprised at having the opportunity
after arguing so vehemently. The blacksmith moved to a
covered opening at the side of the room and, holding back the
woven drape to allow him to see privately into another room,
he said something quietly.
In whispers from the other room came an answer, but
Ghashmi could not make out any words. Being paid no
attention he took the time to look around. The walls were
white and clean, but not as smooth or substantial as walls he
was used to. At intervals along them were columns built in to
support the ceiling, which was not plastered over like the
walls beneath. The rafters were fully exposed, with utensils
strung from them alongside what looked like leather armour.
With one more glance at Ghashmi the blacksmith brushed
past him, out of the house. Alone in the room, Ghashmi was
tempted towards the covered portal, but feeling suddenly that
even by waiting in this room he was an intruder, he left via his
original entrance out of which the smith's trailing heel was
seen to be disappearing.
Ghashmi followed the blacksmith to another building only
yards away. One or two people watched him. It made him
nervous. When he saw the blacksmith enter the house
Ghashmi was not sure if he should follow, but the smith
caught his eye and jerked his head to tell Ghashmi where he
wanted him. The blacksmith was talking before Ghashmi had
seen the insides of the house.
"Halil, a visitor has come from Eridu. Do you want to hear
him?"
Ghashmi entered to the nodding of the old head of a
seated man.
"What does he want?"
The blacksmith stood Ghashmi beside the seated
gentleman and instructed him to explain his visit.
"I have come on behalf of the businessmen of Eridu, who
would like to talk with you about running trade routes between
our communities. We hear you have excellent metal-smiths",
said Ghashmi, becoming conscious of the blacksmith shift his
weight between his feet.
"I would very much like to escort a few representatives
from Erech back to Eridu."
Halil cleared his sagging throat. "Why did you not bring
your own representatives with you?"
"We didn't know how willing you would be and we didn't
want a wasted journey. If a party of your people will
accompany me to Eridu they can look forward to successful
talks and can return to you with good news. Eridu is only a
few days' walk from here, and there are no natural barriers
between us, and certainly no cultural barriers."
Halil was about to speak, but he was slow to start.
Ghashmi stood patiently.
"You weren't troubled by the Annunaki", Halil said flatly.
It didn't sound like a question and Ghashmi wasn't sure if he
should answer it.
"Were you?" prompted the old man, looking directly at
Ghashmi for the first time.
"Not at all."
"If you had been then you wouldn't have arrived here",
muttered the old man. "Think what animosity there would be
between our two villages if I let some of my people go with
you and they were killed before they could return. I would
have to send my own armed escort with them, and I wouldn't
like the village to lose its wisest businessmen and its strongest
warriors for more than a day. You have a good idea, and I
don't suspect for a moment that your motives are not genuine,
but you will admit that you are young and an inexperienced
traveller."
"I can escort them", Ghashmi ventured.
"You are just a boy", said the chief. "And you are lucky
that Eridu is west of here. If you had come through the forest
north-east of here you might not have arrived here. Don't think
that because you have made one uneventful journey that they
will all be so easy. Perhaps we should send you to darker parts
of the forest and see how confident you are then."
"I can match any escort Erech can supply, in any part of
the woods. I could prove myself if given the chance". Ghashmi
had tried to weight his pledge with confidence but felt that he
had overdone it. Halil swapped glances with the blacksmith
while Ghashmi tried to think what he could do to convince
them.
"Even if you had the skill and strength of a grown man,
there's only one of you. You couldn't be an escort on your
own."
Ghashmi felt his grip of the situation being prised open.
His only hope was confidence.
"You don't know me. I can be as effective as several men.
The people of Eridu thought so, otherwise they wouldn't have
let me come here on my own, would they?"
Halil grunted. "I don't think we would let one of our boys
go on such as journey alone. Are you sure they sent you, or did
you come of your own accord?"
" I was sent by a committee headed by my father." There
was no point in telling them the truth.
Halil grunted again, very disapprovingly. "Regardless of
your ability, any bandits seeing you alone would have attacked
in a moment. You don't look so strong, even if you are."
Ghashmi was losing control. "What more can I say to
convince you? They let me come alone because they thought
that the gesture in itself would show you how well respected
my abilities are in Eridu. Self-defence is not so much about
fighting as would think. It is better to place more emphasis on
how you travel, how you plan and time your routes, how you
recognise signs of the presence of others. By the time you're in
a skirmish you've already shown yourself to be a poor escort.
What has age got to do with abilities like those?"
Halil inhaled deeply. "I will have to see some evidence
before I can believe you are as capable as you tell me. I don't
know if you'd be so sure in yourself if you ever really found
yourself in a dangerous situation. There is no need to talk any
more today, we can decide tomorrow what to do."
The blacksmith gestured that Ghashmi should leave.
Ghashmi took himself outside the house and, noticing that the
blacksmith had remained within to talk with his elder, he
decided to return to the forest for a while to consider his
situation.
Ghashmi spent the rest of the day building and planning.
He built a very solid bivouac which he thought he might re-
use the night before heading home to Eridu, and once he had
built it he settled himself in it to plan what he would do. He
was not sure that he should have been staying in the forest that
night, not for fear of bandits because he was still close to the
town, but because there might have been, in what Halil said,
an implicit invitation to stay in the village overnight. Ghashmi
didn't want to refuse the hospitality but perhaps the invitation
should not have been inferred.
Regarding Ghashmi's plans to impress the villagers with
his courage, it was necessary to somehow prove that he could
responsibly escort a small party back to Eridu, and he could
not now refuse any test the Halil might set him without
embarrassing himself and Eridu in turn. His advantage over
the villagers was that he had no fear of the Annunaki.
Ghashmi's only other tool might be Veysi's gift, but even if it
were anything more than an attempt to boost Ghashmi's
confidence then Ghashmi still did not know how to put it to
use. Ghashmi once more turned his planning to the matter of
proving himself to the villagers. He remembered his
commitment, "I can match any escort Erech can supply", and
he winced.
From Halil's words, Ghashmi thought it possible that he
would be taken to a part of the forest which would test his
nerve. But since no attack would come from the Annunaki,
how could he prove himself? All he could do that night was to
form a strategy. Knowing nothing of how he would be tested,
he was forced to make some assumptions, but a plan based on
assumptions was better than none.
He developed his plan slowly. He had to ensure that it was
perfect in every aspect. He choreographed the movements of
people walking with him into the forest. He experimented with
them asking different questions, answering his questions
differently, he plotted their reactions to every conceivable
event, with every response being turned to Ghashmi's
advantage. If his plan was to work it would have to be
adaptable at every moment. What happens when they are
surprised by a wolf pack? What do they say when spoken to
by travellers? How do they react when they think there are
marauding demons waiting behind trees? In the morbid forest
far from the confines of Ghashmi's small shelter in the woods,
men and monsters wrestled each other under Ghashmi's
direction, enacting and perfecting his plan. So vivid was his
imagination that when he finally fell asleep his dreams could
not have been any more surreal.
Ghashmi awoke during one of the darkest hours of the
night. How awake he was he could not tell, nor did the
question even occur to him such was his state, and the sounds
which he could hear could easily have been emanating from
his dreamy mind as from beyond the leafy walls around him.
Distantly, and lulled by a lyre and a tambourine, two men's
voices played sultry cadences in harmonic minor tones, the
notes being irregularly accented by the clapping hands of a
few who, despite the apparent randomness of their percussion,
still played in unison as though conducted by something
within their culture and therefore innately common to them.
The night was hot. Even the insides of the bivouac seemed
to be filmed with perspiration and could easily be imagined to
have been struggling to stand in the heat. Ghashmi was not
comfortable. The greasy warmth kept him sweating and the
thick air's insipid scent robbed his thoughts of clarity. His
blood swelled and surged in his head causing a rhythmic
thudding to offset the tendrils of exotic music straining to
touch his ears. A host of wildlife buzzed outside but the only
sound which Ghashmi didn't perceive to have been scored by a
heavenly musician was the ongoing tut and whisper of a
bonfire. As his sleepy consciousness processed the sounds in
turn, they each held his interest for a time before becoming a
background wash on which the colour of foreground noises
was corrupted, so that none of the sounds could ever be heard
true as they shifted in and out of focus.
The shapes within the shelter were discernible only as
spectral black upon black, and the feeble night-light from the
opening served not to sculpt them but only to possess them
with a fiendish essence.
His dreams drew Ahmet and Veysi before his eyes, and in
his mind depicted their pride in him. The darkness eased and
lost its morbidity, while Ghashmi talked a long time with the
two wise men about the village of Erech and the task ahead of
him.
When Ghashmi entered Erech the following morning he
was ready to change his attitude from what it had been the
previous day. Outward confidence and brash words, having
been softened, were now used as a core of quiet strength
which he kept to himself.
The village was busy and Ghashmi was pointed out and
gazed at as he made his way to see Halil. When he arrived
there was a small, talkative crowd outside the house, and they
started chattering all the more as Ghashmi approached. They
parted for him to reach the doorway, out of which Halil
appeared, summoned by the growth of the noise. As the noise
died Halil began to speak. It seemed from what he said that
the people already knew why Ghashmi was in Erech, and what
it was he had asked of them.
"I have reached a decision", said the chief, looking more
frequently at the boy than the crowd. "As a community we
admire what Eridu is trying to accomplish and would like to
do all that we can to help what is our joint cause, but we must
remain mindful of the safety of us all. It has been decided that
we must know Ghashmi a little better before we can entrust
him with a contingent of businessmen."
"To do this we have asked these two guides, Zaid and
Saud, to escort Ghashmi into the denser forest." Ghashmi was
now aware of two men standing beside the chief who both
stood straighter at the mention of their names.
To Ghashmi the chief said directly, "There is a part of the
forest north-east of here where people have been killed by the
Annunaki and by bandits. These men will take you there to
measure your courage. If nothing happens to you then I cannot
conclude one way or the other, but if you have the chance to
prove yourself then it will lead to either my conclusion, or to
yours."
Ghashmi had heard only the word "bandits". He had no
fear of the Annunaki and in that respect he could afford as
much bravado as he could muster but he was, as Halil had said
previously, only a boy and when he let down his pretence he
knew that if he were ever under real attack then he would be
almost helpless. Even if he were a strong enough fighter he
had only a bow and a knife to use, and he might be
outnumbered.
"You will leave straight away", continued Halil, unaware
of Ghashmi's gripping reverie, "You will be back tomorrow".
He drew his breath to add something, but stopped.
Through an invisible gesture, Halil caused the crowd to
spread outwards to give more space to Ghashmi and the two
guides, whom Ghashmi now began to look over. When he had
finished inspecting one of them men and turned his eyes to
look at the other, he found that they were nearly identical,
likely to be brothers. They had each been attributed with the
same turbulent hair and aggressive brows, their slim builds
seemed to come from each other's mould. If Ghashmi could
have concluded how robust they were from the appearance of
their bare arms then he would have labelled them both
indestructible. Their skin looked so impenetrable that the
leather armour strapped over their chests might have been
donned only in modesty. Comparing himself with his guides
and feeling suddenly and ashamedly that he was not nearly
worthy to be challenging them to test his competence,
Ghashmi dreaded that the onlooking crowd had turned out
only to humour him and privately humiliate him, and he
glanced at Halil in fear that he might be smiling. But there was
no mockery in his face.
The two guides turned their backs to Ghashmi and began
rounding the house. Ghashmi followed immediately,
deliberately not looking into the eyes of the crowd. As the
three reached the first trees of the forest, a hundred paces from
the house of the chief, the crowd's noise was still audible.
Ghashmi listened for laughter but could not conclude
anything.
_

Ghashmi and his two escorts walked for most of the day.
As they trod the debris on the forest floor they found it harder
and harder to see out between the trees, causing Ghashmi to
feel increasingly uneasy and decreasingly sure that he was in
safe hands. The three couldn't walk easily in a straight line
because the wood was becoming thicker; Ghashmi had
expected as much, but more than that it seemed to him that he
was being led on a route to deliberately avoid some regions of
the forest. By tracking the movement of the sun, sometimes
visible through the dense canopy, Ghashmi suspected that
their route was curved and that he was not being led as far
from the village as a day's walk should take them.
Ghashmi did constant battle with the aching fear that he
had not been taken in earnest by the villagers, and also that the
two muscular braves leading him over the veined roots and
mulch had his downfall in mind. Were they intent merely to
see him bruised by thugs so that they could destroy his
reputation as a warrior before Ghashmi had even realised it?
Or did they want to show Halil the remains of his body and
report that not only had he been unable to save himself but
that in running to his aid the two villagers had endangered
themselves and fought off a team of bandits? Ghashmi was
only a farmer and he knew how eager he would be to show his
town how courageous he was. How much keener would these
two men be to impress their people? Ghashmi knew nothing
of their village's politics or traditions, or how young fighters
were selected and ranked. Ghashmi was in many ways feeling
insecure. Although he had built the foundation of a scheme to
prove himself to Halil's village, he had severe doubts as to
whether or not he could complete the plan, not to think about
his ability to execute it.
Not for the first time since he left Eridu Ghashmi wished
that he had the company of his friends or of his father, Ahmet,
but for the very first time since he left home he felt that the
situation was out of his control. He was unfamiliar with
everything around him, and now he wasn't sure that he could
return home with his life; returning with valuable trade for
Eridu seemed very far beyond his optimism.
If Ghashmi's rival, Bachir, had been there, Ghashmi might
have stumbled through that infernal forest with better chances
of survival. If Ahmet had been there he could have seated the
entire village around bonfires by midnight to discuss trade
routes.
The two guides stopped unexpectedly and one of them
gripped Ghashmi's wrist. Ghashmi was about to struggle
when he realised that the guide was trying only to grasp his
attention.
"We're coming to the road now, and there may be people
in wait for travellers. We'd better be careful". He let go of
Ghashmi's wrist and the three of them crept through the
thickets until, minutes later, Ghashmi saw the road. He almost
stopped, expecting to see the guides stop to adjust their route,
but as they carried on Ghashmi guessed that they must have
seen the road long before he had.
Ghashmi was led in silence for a few more miles while
they hugged the brush at the roadside. At length their pace
dropped and the two men seemed to become wary. They
gestured for him to join them, huddling amongst the bushes a
few yards from the road.
"Before we go on", said Saud, "we must ask you if you are
sure you are doing right. Hopefully we will pass an
uninterrupted night here, but if we are disturbed then you
might well lose your life". His eyes didn't stop scanning all
around the party, but the solemnity of his voice made him
sound as though he were looking Ghashmi very steadily in the
eye. "Your town will value our trade, no doubt, but I'm sure
they value you as well."
"Let's go on", Ghashmi replied. He wanted to end the
conversation quickly before he changed his mind, but because
he did not know the way he had to wait until Saud decided that
dissuasion was useless and turned to press on through the
forest.
They walked for only a few minutes more, then they came
to a thinning of the trees where the ground dipped. Zaid
settled himself on the floor of the hollow. "We shall stay here
until dawn, or until we can leave."
Saud looked grim. Ghashmi asked, "Under what
circumstances?"
"We will leave if the darkness gets to you", said Zaid.
Ghashmi looked up at the darkening sky and saw mauve
wreaths of cloud leading the night sky across the woods from
the east.
"Just so long as we leave", murmured Saud, his hands on
his hips, peering out of the clearing through the trees.
Ghashmi watched them and saw that they were uneasy, and
that it was no act.
It was hard to stand within that awesome forest and not
feel that it knew everything that you had questions for, your
future, your chances. Zaid and Saud stalked backwards and
forwards across the clearing for a time, sweeping the ground
with their feet as if for clues to what might happen during the
night. Ghashmi settled himself on a thick root which arched
out of the earth. He asked about the reports of attacks on
people in that area of the woods.
"There have been many incidents", said Zaid, looking up
from the forest floor and surveying the woods. "Sometimes
men come here for wagers when they're drunk. Some people
have been forced to use paths through here to visit villages to
the east - the alternative is a very long journey farther south.
Some people simply don't believe they can be hurt and come
here to collect wood. Attacks have been various. Mostly,
people talk of a large animal", he stopped. For a horrid
moment Ghashmi thought that Zaid had seen something
terrible through the trees but he had in fact stopped only to
choose his words. He looked to Ghashmi like someone who in
re-counting a dream had found that it was nearly forgotten.
"Something animal", murmured Zaid, tensing his forehead
to remember some delirious account he might once have
witnessed. Saud stood still and watched his colleague's
anguish. Ghashmi felt that in probing he had touched
something frightening in the villagers' history.
Zaid whispered something inaudible at first. "Ripped and
ripped", he whispered as if surprising himself at how dreadful
his own memories were. Ghashmi said nothing until Zaid had
begun walking around the clearing again. He knew what he
had ahead of him to do, but he needed some information first.
"What happens when you are confronted by it?"
The two men consulted each other with their looks. Zaid
said, "You will freeze. You won't be able to move. Normal
fear makes you stronger but too much fear petrifies you".
Saud nodded and added, "If it took you your only hope would
be for unconsciousness."
"Couldn't you escape through the trees? They would slow
it down."
Zaid and Saud cast disdainful looks over Ghashmi. "It is
more at home in the woods than the forest animals. It would
move even faster than the fear through your veins, and be
upon you before you remembered to scream."
"I can't believe it can be so ferocious. I'm sure we could
defend ourselves", said Ghashmi, hoping to coax the men into
exaggerating a little more.
"We certainly could not", said Saud. "It has three or four
times our strength and its skin is like armour. If you weren't
overcome by the fumes from between its jaws and were still
able to run from it, you'd soon be caught and killed, and the
sooner death came, the better for you."
Zaid was staring blankly ahead of himself, as if all of his
emotions were used up inside his head and none could be
spared for his face, conjuring vile images of death from the
mess of childhood legend and hearsay that infested all of the
villagers' minds. Ghashmi could see that Saud's imagination
was also igniting. He was brandishing his machete and turning
around and around, peering through the trees and listening for
anything alien.
Ghashmi asked the guides to sit in front of him on the
forest floor. "A low profile will be safer", he promised. He
was feeling quite scared, not of attack but of failure. He had
only this night to prove himself to these men, and from the
proof would come his proof to Eridu that he truly was a son to
be valued. Although he had begun to implement his plan by
deliberately fuelling their fantasies, he knew that success was
far away and that he was still weak with self-doubt. As Zaid
and Saud slowly crept towards Ghashmi, holding their hands
out as if asking the forest to hush and scanning the darkening
woods for a glimpse of movement, Ghashmi could see just
how intense their fears were. For a moment he wondered if he
really should be so sceptical of - never, no, to think like that
was to let the night scare him.
"Listen", whispered Ghashmi when the three of them were
close. "Let me ask you something else". An animal was heard
in the distance and the guides turned their backs to each other
so they could watch every yard of the forest. The sky was now
a very deep, dark blue and very little light survived beneath
the gruesome boughs above their heads.
"What would happen", Ghashmi breathed, even the
passing of air from his mouth echoing from branch to foul
branch, formidably ugly and doom-black. "What could we see
if the sky were completely dark?" The leaves around them
swayed a little and a twig cackled nearby, causing the three to
flinch and reminding Ghashmi that he had to hold himself
firmly if he were to succeed that night.
"Imagine that the trees could lean over and black out the
remaining light. Think what darkness we would be in as they
bent overhead and joined". The men looked up and could not
help picturing each disfigured branch stretching out towards
the others. "And powerful vines could so easily slither up
around the tree trunks and join the branches together". Zaid
stood up and stumbled a little. He was still looking above his
head but he could now see only streaks of dark sky beyond the
knotted silhouettes of branches, and more serpentine creepers
seemed to be writhing around twigs and obscuring the purple
gaps between the shadows.
"We're completely covered!" Ghashmi hissed
unscrupulously. "Can you still see each other? Come close
here so we each know where we all are". Saud huddled closer
to Ghashmi, Zaid sat with them. Ghashmi felt vulnerable with
his back to the sinister woods, but at least for him the sky was
still visible. Had he guessed right? Had Veysi given him what
he needed to convince the two men? He would need to animate
such terrible devils in the villagers' nightmare; was he really
capable? He felt that he was.
"Let me tell you", said Ghashmi, "a tale". He steeled
himself to the marrow and clutching tight to his nerve, he
began.
"It started with an abyss. Vast it was, its edges didn't even
need to exist. Above it was thick, opaque darkness, and within
it was the Primordial Ocean, sluggish, slimy, and black like
tar". Beneath the surface of Ghashmi's mind a musing stirred.
Only a creep, just an itch, deep inside his infinite potential,
with only confidence being needed for his success. "What
existed in the void and what existed in the ocean grew and
eventually, when they were nearly as old as the abyss itself,
the two great deities rose out of the darkness. From the dark
waste came the god Apsu, and the Goddess Tiawath waded up
from the ocean's depth."
In the pit of the woods, a hundred yards from Ghashmi's
voice, the outline of a shadow was cast onto the broad side of
a tree. As it swayed, the shadow rippled over the rough bark.
The crawling wood-lice on the tree animated the shadow as
they passed in and out of the shape. Suddenly the shadow slid
from the tree and babbled like lightless white-water over the
undergrowth before reforming on another tree and standing
still again. It could hear Ghashmi speaking. It was waiting for
the right moment.
"Armed with his great net, club and longbow, Merodach
galloped on the storm, sending the lightning flying before him.
With a word, he invoked powerful tempests to rally before
him, and with the hurricane as his strength he rode out on a
silver stallion."
In the pit of Ghashmi's mind, deep below his voice, the
outline of a demon was forming, ready to play a role in
Ghashmi's tale and in his plan. Like the forest itself, boy's
mind housed fears and myths, and from them came vile
tyrannical demigods. As they were born and died he
commanded black shapes to creep from the wood's soil and
shrink unseen below the humus. One shadow persisted, and
continued to flit from tree to tree towards the sound of
Ghashmi's voice.
"Merodach held his club over his head and brought it
down with colossal strength onto Tiawath's side, killing her
for ever."
Ghashmi was thinking ahead of his oratory, letting the
devil from his mind explore the forest where soon he would
need it. Its shadow slipped down a tree-trunk and dribbled
over the roots into the earth. It could still hear the story
above
the ground as it swam under the feet of Zaid and Saud, and
took hold of the roots of a black pine.
"Kingu appeared with his hoards, but seeing the final
thrash of his mistress' tail he turned and fled into the deep
with his armies in pursuit, and they drowned to the last of
them."
Ghashmi stopped with his lips poised for his next word.
He looked over the shoulders of Zaid and Saud at the pine
tree, causing them both to whip around to look at it. Seeing
that all attention was on the tree boy said, "Supposing it were
to split and something came from it". Zaid shook briefly with
dread.
"Supposing it fell open", Ghashmi was urging. In their minds'
eyes Zaid and Saud saw the bark split down its middle into
two sections. They squinted in the darkness as the two dark
slabs parted. "Supposing something came from it, a being
driven out of the Earth by ancient bitterness. A survivor
soaked in vengeance might have spent eternal years waiting
beneath the waters of the Abyss, then digging a hiding place
from the light in its muddy shores, rotting underground until it
was safe to surface.
"Can you imagine the pride with which it once marched in
defence of its regal mistress, flanked by her vast armies? And
can you imagine its screaming shame at seeing them driven
into the stagnant waters. Imagine it feeling such anguish, such
catastrophic dismay, that it couldn't bear to die and let the
massacre go unrepented, so much so that it overcame all laws
of life and death and hid from the gods until they had lost even
its fiendish memory."
Zaid and Saud's eyes became unfocused and the only
vision they had belonged to their imagination. In it they saw
the bark suddenly splinter as the two sections were flung
outwards, revealing an effervescent twilight inside.
Ghashmi saw the wrenching of their faces and could only
guess at what monstrous alarm gripped them. "There's a
figure!" he insisted. They did see a figure. It was very dark,
but it looked as though it reached both hands to its shoulders
and pushed off the wood like it were a robe. It stepped
forward. Every step was loud on the dry ground. The men felt
something fasten their feet to the soil, but whether it was the
roots of malicious trees or the perversions of fear they could
not tell. The figure moved aside and the tomb formed by the
pine tree's wreck was dark again.
The figure looked human except for the faultless
blackness of its surface, as though it were formed from the
Primordial Ocean itself. Its every movement was followed,
though with a perceptible lag, by a black halo, but when it
faced them directly they saw through its eyes an army of fiery
sprites whirling inside its head. One of them paused at one of
the figure's eyes to peek out at the men. Another stopped at
the other eye, then they both flew back into the whirlpool of
lights.
Ghashmi stalked around the figure, watching keenly how
to play the scene. He positioned himself so that he was
obscured from Zaid and Saud by his creation, through which
he could see quite plainly the men's mania. The two men
thought of their knives. They would surely have no effect on
the adversary but might at least give them a quicker death than
they could otherwise have any hope for. Just as Saud's hand
was falling from its instinctive guard in front of his face, the
frightening black body shook as a thud was heard, then it
began to tremble. In the anxious slow moments through which
the villagers' minds strove for comprehension three rapid
thuds, then four more, evoked a series of jerks in the dark
torso. The creature's chest clenched and slackened, always
with the remaining spirits of its comrades foremost in its mind
and shining through its eyes. As the body cowered and fell
onto its knees, then onto its hands, a cluster of eight arrows
were borne up by its folding back and Ghashmi was revealed
standing, sweating, panting admirably, with his bow slowly
lowering to his side.
Ghashmi ran with Zaid and Saud through the bush and
along the roads, over the chaotic undergrowth and beside
ditches, and they didn't stop until they stood before Halil with
the villagers crowding outside the door to listen. Zaid and
Saud could not yet speak clearly, partly from the craziness of
their fear and partly from the ecstasy of their relief. Ghashmi
stood slightly behind and let Zaid talk.
"When the foulness stood before us we thought we would
never see you again! Its presence alone could have killed some
men. Saud and I could only cower!"
Ghashmi heard his praise only distantly, he was so
exhilarated.
"We thought Ghashmi had fainted or run!"
Veysi had understood from the start. He had known how
to do it.
"But when he came out of the darkness to save us, we saw
him for what he was - this boy is indomitable!"
Halil had only to raise his chin to indicate that he wanted
to speak and the whole room fell silent, the only noise being
the shuffling of the villagers at the door trying to hear what
was being said. The chief spoke slowly, knowing that every
word had to be clearly understood.
"I had prepared myself to say that I could not allow
anybody from Erech to travel to Eridu, that the risks were too
high, but I might have overestimated our vulnerability to
attack on the journey. However, even though I would be very
pleased to see businessmen establish a trade route between
here and Eridu, I cannot make that decision for them, I can say
only that I think you will be safe enough on the journey to
Eridu, but beyond that it is up to individuals to make their
own decision. Is there anybody here who would be willing to
be our ambassador?"
There might have been a web of glances cast gingerly
throughout the congregation, each person testing the
responses of others, and it might have taken some time before
a party had been assembled, but so convincing were the
reports of Zaid and Saud and so impressed were the crowd
that six or seven arms were raised immediately. The owners of
some of those hands were volunteering partly in the hope of
seeing Ghashmi's skills tested again.
"Good", the chief declared. "There is no need to go
tomorrow. You will need some time to make plans, and I'm
sure Ghashmi would like some time to rest from his ordeal".
He smiled graciously at Ghashmi, who smiled just as happily
back.
_

The journey back to Eridu was laborious but uneventful.
Ghashmi was a little fatigued by the time he recognised his
father's fields; he had found some difficulty keeping his pace
up with the others' on the return journey and it had reminded
him that he was still a boy. However, he could not be deflated
knowing how close he was to home. It was early afternoon and
the farmers were working with scythes.
From mid-stride in the fields Ahmet saw the line of brown
silhouettes filing over the horizon and he walked some way
across the fields. He caught the attention of some of the
farmers, some others saw the figures for themselves and,
having squinted into the sunshine for a second, began walking
towards them. Ahmet was first to recognise Ghashmi and
hurried over the furrows until he and Ghashmi saw each other.
"You killed it!" called Ahmet, "You killed the wretched - "
Stuck for a noun he cried again, "You killed it!"
Now Ghashmi hadn't heard his father's voice since the day
he left and into his mind came the last words Ahmet had said
to him. "Kill it before it kills Eridu". This time he understood
them.
He broke into a run, running too were the townsfolk
coming towards him. The farmer who reached him first wiped
his grimy left hand up and down on his shirt while he punched
the boy happily in the back with his grimy right.
"I killed it", Ghashmi said when he faced his father. "I
killed it."