initiation ceremony. Do you suggest I am less beautiful than this girl?”
“No! Of course, not, my High Priestess.” Hulalitu croaked the words. “I only meant—”
“Never mind, Hulalitu. I know what you meant.” A trace of condescension tinged Issar-surrat’s voice. Hulalitu rankled at the knowledge that the High Priestess’s benevolence only soothed the stir she had created herself. This was the Issar-surrat—the Prahthah—she knew so well.
“This girl, she has a name?”
“Yes, my High Priestess. Her name is Ianna.”
“Ianna.” Issar-surrat’s voice grew reflective. “So close to Inanna, the Mother of our Babylonian sisters.”
Hulalitu’s growing fear sealed her lips.
“Perhaps she remains because the Mother Goddess wishes her to remain. Do you think?” Issar-surrat’s tone became direct, her intention now clear.
Hulalitu could not respond. She never thought her intervention in Ianna’s consummation rite would lead to this. She could not admit to the camphor powder she added to the ceremonial libation. This would violate a tenet ritual of the temple, one mandated by Mother Ishtar herself. But why would the High Priestess take notice of one lowly initiate among the hundreds who pass through every year? Why would she care enough to summon the mentor naditu for questioning?
Unless . . .
“You have no reply, naditu?”
“I . . . I don’t know what stirs the heart of Mother Ishtar, my High Priestess.” Hulalitu’s heart was in her throat. She hastened to add, “I am sure, though, the girl’s best interest lies with our Matron.”
“‘The girl.’ You mean ‘Ianna,’ don’t you?”
“Yes. Of course, Ianna.” Verbalizing the girl’s name stabbed Hulalitu’s heart, a fact she was sure was not lost on Issar-surrat.
“And yes, you are correct. Mother Ishtar is interested above all in the welfare of her devotees. So am I. Therefore, Ianna will remain in the temple. She will assume the role of a naditu. See to it.” Issar-surrat shifted on the chair. The audience was over.
Hulalitu didn’t move. She stared at the foot of the High Priestess’s dais. Issar-surrat knew. Somehow she knew Hulalitu had sabotaged Ianna’s consummation ritual. She would also know why. Issar-surrat’s decision to make Ianna a naditu would establish her as a peer and remove her from Hulalitu’s control—perhaps even sever contact with her, if the High Priestess chose to send Ianna away to another temple in Kal ḫ u, or maybe Aššûr. Only if Hulalitu rose to the rank of a senior naditu could she hope to maintain any leverage over Ianna.
“My High Priestess—”
“You are dismissed.” Hulalitu flinched at the ice in Issar-surrat’s voice.
“But I—”
“You are dismissed!”
“Is there a chance I could become a senior naditu?” Hulalitu grimaced at her own words as they piled out and dropped flat onto the floor. No naditu ever nominated herself to the inner circle . This was unheard of, laughable. And that is exactly what Issar-surrat did.
The High Priestess’s stifled smirk broke into a throaty chortle and then into a full-bellied laugh, which echoed throughout the chamber. “Why, Hulalitu.” Issar-surrat lapsed into another fit of mirth. “You? A senior naditu? Come now, be serious.”
Hulalitu lifted her tear-laden eyes to the High Priestess’s chair.
Issar-surrat convulsed with laughter. “Why, I haven’t heard anything as funny as this in, oh, I don’t know how long!”
“I only thought—”
“ Dismissed!” All levity disappeared from the High Priestess’s voice. “See to the girl’s—to Ianna’s—ceremony. Without delay.”
Hulalitu hid a quiet sob. “Yes, my High Priestess.”
Issar-surrat’s glare tracked Hulalitu’s steps to the chamber door. The click of the latch echoed through her quarters and all went still. As the High Priestess eased herself back into her chair, a familiar shell of numbness slid up the back of her skull and over her
“No! Of course, not, my High Priestess.” Hulalitu croaked the words. “I only meant—”
“Never mind, Hulalitu. I know what you meant.” A trace of condescension tinged Issar-surrat’s voice. Hulalitu rankled at the knowledge that the High Priestess’s benevolence only soothed the stir she had created herself. This was the Issar-surrat—the Prahthah—she knew so well.
“This girl, she has a name?”
“Yes, my High Priestess. Her name is Ianna.”
“Ianna.” Issar-surrat’s voice grew reflective. “So close to Inanna, the Mother of our Babylonian sisters.”
Hulalitu’s growing fear sealed her lips.
“Perhaps she remains because the Mother Goddess wishes her to remain. Do you think?” Issar-surrat’s tone became direct, her intention now clear.
Hulalitu could not respond. She never thought her intervention in Ianna’s consummation rite would lead to this. She could not admit to the camphor powder she added to the ceremonial libation. This would violate a tenet ritual of the temple, one mandated by Mother Ishtar herself. But why would the High Priestess take notice of one lowly initiate among the hundreds who pass through every year? Why would she care enough to summon the mentor naditu for questioning?
Unless . . .
“You have no reply, naditu?”
“I . . . I don’t know what stirs the heart of Mother Ishtar, my High Priestess.” Hulalitu’s heart was in her throat. She hastened to add, “I am sure, though, the girl’s best interest lies with our Matron.”
“‘The girl.’ You mean ‘Ianna,’ don’t you?”
“Yes. Of course, Ianna.” Verbalizing the girl’s name stabbed Hulalitu’s heart, a fact she was sure was not lost on Issar-surrat.
“And yes, you are correct. Mother Ishtar is interested above all in the welfare of her devotees. So am I. Therefore, Ianna will remain in the temple. She will assume the role of a naditu. See to it.” Issar-surrat shifted on the chair. The audience was over.
Hulalitu didn’t move. She stared at the foot of the High Priestess’s dais. Issar-surrat knew. Somehow she knew Hulalitu had sabotaged Ianna’s consummation ritual. She would also know why. Issar-surrat’s decision to make Ianna a naditu would establish her as a peer and remove her from Hulalitu’s control—perhaps even sever contact with her, if the High Priestess chose to send Ianna away to another temple in Kal ḫ u, or maybe Aššûr. Only if Hulalitu rose to the rank of a senior naditu could she hope to maintain any leverage over Ianna.
“My High Priestess—”
“You are dismissed.” Hulalitu flinched at the ice in Issar-surrat’s voice.
“But I—”
“You are dismissed!”
“Is there a chance I could become a senior naditu?” Hulalitu grimaced at her own words as they piled out and dropped flat onto the floor. No naditu ever nominated herself to the inner circle . This was unheard of, laughable. And that is exactly what Issar-surrat did.
The High Priestess’s stifled smirk broke into a throaty chortle and then into a full-bellied laugh, which echoed throughout the chamber. “Why, Hulalitu.” Issar-surrat lapsed into another fit of mirth. “You? A senior naditu? Come now, be serious.”
Hulalitu lifted her tear-laden eyes to the High Priestess’s chair.
Issar-surrat convulsed with laughter. “Why, I haven’t heard anything as funny as this in, oh, I don’t know how long!”
“I only thought—”
“ Dismissed!” All levity disappeared from the High Priestess’s voice. “See to the girl’s—to Ianna’s—ceremony. Without delay.”
Hulalitu hid a quiet sob. “Yes, my High Priestess.”
Issar-surrat’s glare tracked Hulalitu’s steps to the chamber door. The click of the latch echoed through her quarters and all went still. As the High Priestess eased herself back into her chair, a familiar shell of numbness slid up the back of her skull and over her
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