* * *
Claudesius smiled. The girl was faltering. Only moments before, she faced him with bold insolence. Now she cowered before her governor, trembling with indecision and fear. It was all working out so well! All that was needed was the tipping stone, the one act that would force her to recant all hope and faith. Then he would have her. She could not help but surrender to him.
Ishtar struggled to remain standing, her knees weak and shaky. All courage had vanished from her heart, leaving behind a searing void of trepidation and uncertainty. From deep within Ishtar’s soul there grew an overpowering desire to release a screaming breath of desperation, her lungs constricting in preparation. Storm clouds of madness rushed through the girl’s mind, chasing away any remaining sanity this world held for her. It was wrong, all so wrong!
The governor waved his hand. In moments, three ghostly shapes emerged from the shadows, two guards half dragging someone between them. Stopping in front of Claudesius, they threw their prisoner at his feet. “My Lord!” the man cried, sitting back on his knees and craning his neck to stare up into the governor’s eyes. He clasped his hands beseechingly. “Please! My Lord! Mercy! Please!”
Claudesius smiled condescendingly. “Travet, my trusted servant.”
Ishtar stared at the man, perhaps in his early forties, groveling in the dirt. He must be a house servant of some kind, but not that of a laborer, his white clothing, now stained and torn, indicating high rank, possibly a director over foodstuffs. He cowered before the governor, occasionally whimpering some incoherent words.
Feigning innocence, Claudesius asked, “Travet, why do you quail before me? Have you not known me to be a fair and just man?”
Travet’s eyes darted around nervously at the others and back toward the governor. In a shaky voice, he answered, “Ye… yes, my Lord. You are a most fair and just man… most renowned in all the land.”
Claudesius stepped forward, resting his hand on Travet’s shoulder and asked, “So, should I make a judgment against someone, it would be fair and honest, correct? Based on true facts and without prejudice?”
Travet nodded assuredly. “Oh yes, my Lord! You are the most noble of all men, fair in all your ways.”
“Well…?” Claudesius patted Travet’s shoulder. “If that is so, why would a man who is wholly innocent of accusation fear coming before me, quailing upon the ground like a common criminal?”
A shiver swept through Travet. He was being set up to take a fall. Why, he did not know, and the results he was still unsure of. It would matter little what was said in his defense, the governor having already decided the man’s fate. His mind began to resign itself to whatever might come, but his heart cried out in desperation, “Have mercy on me, my Lord! I am an innocent man! I have done nothing wrong!”
As his face filled with a mock, righteous sadness, Claudesius circled Travet, glancing at Ishtar. ‘Good! Good!’ He could see growing terror in the girl’s face. Stopping at Travet’s other side, he again squeezed the man’s shoulder, his voice filled with hurt and betrayal. “Your speech is twisted and confusing.” With a sly smile, he shot Treston a glance.
Treston tipped his head, recognizing the warning being given. Travet was playing the pigeon in today’s game and Treston was being warned just how close he had come to being that fowl instead of Travet. Claudesius was intolerant of imprudent behavior. Treston had seen it before. And when there was a kettle brewing, he was willing to imply imprudence even when there was none to be found. The governor liked Treston, and this day, when he so needed a victim of impropriety, he selected an innocent – that Treston knew – instead of choosing him when he had earlier acted so brashly. That glance was Treston’s warning not to act in such a way again.
Claudesius continued, “You claim your innocence, yet you beg for mercy.” He bent down, staring into Travet’s face, scolding, “Only a deceitful man filled with treachery would seek mercy, not one honest in heart and motive. No! No! With a lying tongue and crooked mouth you have preached falsehood, risking the lives of all in my house! I have it on good authority that you intentionally sought the harm of my distinguished guests by spoiling the food served them this very day. Confess your sins to me at this time, my son, so that mercy can be given you.”
Travet cried out in desperation, “No! My Lord! No! I gave them our very best there was found to offer. From your own larder, I found the stuffs to provide. They asked for what could not be found in the city, anywhere! I searched and searched. All night, I personally sought out their request and could not find such things anywhere at all.”
“Liar!” Claudesius screamed.
“No, my Lord!” Travet cried out, sobbing, “I searched the city out…”
“Shut up, you!” the governor shouted in his face. “You attempted to poison my guests, the very magistrate of Caesar and his distinguished councilor! For that, you must be disciplined to the proper degree.” He stood back, shaking a finger. “It has been said that a poor cook will blame the pot for a bad meal.”
He motioned the guards and, sweeping his hands in broom fashion, ordered them to remove Travet. As they dragged the whimpering man away and toward the cat pit, Claudesius sighed with sweet longing, “I will so miss those ham and clove omelets.”
It suddenly clicked in Treston’s head. Claudesius had not delivered Ishtar here to feed the girl to the cats. He wanted to put on a convincing show for her, one that might just help adjust her thinking, make the child submissive to his will. What the governor intended to do with her after she had pleasured him, Treston was not sure. Whether it was to the arena to delight the crowds or the secret chambers under the governor’s palace where special guests were quartered mattered little at the moment. Treston knew it was best he should diligently serve his master’s will, or Travet’s coming fate might well be his own.
Treston yanked Ishtar around and, with the help of other guards, forced her to the edge of the pit. Pushing her head forward and down, he reached over Ishtar’s head, pulling her eyelids back, his nails digging into her flesh until blood oozed from the wounds he made. There the girl stood, helplessly staring into the faces of hungry animals jumping and clawing at her, only feet away.
Ishtar cried out in terror, vomiting as she did. Then all control dissolved. Her bowels surrendered their restraint as her bladder emptied itself on the stone pavement. But she did not fall. The strength of many hands secured her well, carrying the girl’s weight, keeping her standing.
A guard assisting Treston laughed, chiding Ishtar, “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet! Honey, jus’ you wait!”
With a grunt, the two men holding Travet shoved him into the animal pit directly under Ishtar’s eyes. The man’s screams were cut short when he was literally ripped apart in front of her. A mad scramble broke out among the hungry cats, they fighting for pieces of flesh hitting the floor. Crimson liquid squirted up, hitting Ishtar in the face. She screamed. Most gruesome of all, though, was when one of the wild beasts grabbed part of the man’s torso and, retreating across the pit, strung Travet’s innards along its path.
Ishtar watched on in horror while the animals each settled down to finish their remaining morsel. The crunching and gnawing of bones finished quickly, but to the girl it lasted for an eternity. Finally, after a lifetime of numbing terror, the frenzied tumult below eased until the sounds of raspy tongues licking the stones and an occasional growl were all that was to be heard. Of Travet, nothing remained to tell of his woeful tale other than a few scraps of bloodied cloth and pieces of chewed sandals.
“So‘s the fate of cooks and fools...” Treston taunted. Clutching the girl by the hair, he jerked her back, throwing her down to the stones. Ishtar sprawled on the pavement, shaking uncontrollably while sobbing in a fit.
“Get up, you!” Claudesius screamed. “You’re next on the menu if you fail to offer your proper respect to our lord and king!”
Although h
er eyes were opened, all Ishtar could see was Travet being torn to pieces by the giant cats, searing forever those ghastly scenes into her brain. Gradually she came to her senses so as to hear the governor’s continuing threats. Struggling, she slowly pushed herself up and back until the child sat, rocking back and forth on her knees.
Ishtar’s panicked breathing and glassy stare comforted Claudesius. The girl’s blood-spattered face and uncontrolled tremors only excited him all the more. His groin ached with an agony he never before experienced. It took all the man’s effort to restrain himself from ravishing the girl at this very moment.
‘Patience… patience…’ a voice called out in his mind. ‘Your fun will be better if you wait for her offer. Wait on the girl to surrender to your will.’
Leaning forward with arms outstretched, Claudesius’ voice became benevolent and fatherly. “I am so dismayed that such a young thing like you must suffer such travesty as this. Please, if you will now only reach out to me and submit to the generous laws of this land, I can save you from any more of these indignities. Please child, reach out to me. Let me guide you to your rightful destiny.”
Rubbing her arms in anxious despair, Ishtar heard only the roar of the beasts and Travet’s final screams cycling round and round in her head. The governor needed to repeat his offer twice more before she could comprehend what was being said. Looking toward the source of the words, the girl’s eyes gradually focused on Claudesius. As the numbing pain of tormented dreams eased, she began to understand the words’ meaning. She was being asked to surrender all that was real to her, all that made life worth living.
“No! I cannot!” She cried. “I cannot! Cannot! No! No! No! I cannot!”
Claudesius’ face reddened in anger as he screamed, “Fool! Damnable, stupid fool! Do you not fear such a horrid death?!”
Ishtar stared blankly, her lips speaking unuttered words.
“Damn you! Damn you!” Claudesius cursed. “I shall have my way with you if the world should be forced to end!” He turned toward the darkness, pausing in thought, then motioning to others hidden in the shadows, turning back to Ishtar with a wily smile. “To bask in self-sacrifice for such a foolish cause and to risk your own death appears to be an easy matter for you, but what if your actions determine the fate of others? I wonder...”
The cries of a woman fell upon Ishtar’s ears. She looked up, searching for the face behind the cries - cries that carried the tone of a familiar voice.
A guard angrily shouted, “Get goin’, you, or I’ll jab ya again!”
Aghast, Ishtar watched two terrified little boys followed by a very pregnant woman holding a small girl hurrying out of the shadows. The woman came at a waddling run, supporting her naked belly with one hand while clutching her daughter in her other arm. She was stripped to the waist, wearing a torn and bloody garment that was now little more than a rag. It was obvious from the woman’s cuts and bruises that she had fared little better after her arrest than had Ishtar.
Catching her breath, Ishtar whimpered, forlorn, “Merna! Oh… oh… Merna!”
Nearing the governor, the guard slammed Merna between her shoulders, sending her sprawling on her belly. The woman’s elbows hit the stones with a loud crack! she extending them so as not to crush the child she carried. With a painful groan, she sat back, grabbing her belly in agony as she vomited on herself and the child.
The guard shouted at the terrified and confused boys, “Sit down, you brats, or I run ya through! Ya hear!”
“Dilean… Jessie… Hilen, Hilen…” Ishtar was in tears. “Oh, Merna! Merna! I am so… so sorry!”
Claudesius smiled questioningly. “So you know each other? Well, well, what a small world we all live in.”
Looking over and into Claudesius’ eyes, Ishtar began to comprehend what was on the man’s mind. She froze in terror as the full meaning sank in. Then, falling forward on outstretched arms, she rocked her head from side to side, writhing in distress, wailing, “No! No! No! You cannot expect… You cannot… Can not!”
Claudesius feigned remorse as he apologized, “I did so much wish for the entire family to make their visit upon you, to help you understand the seriousness of the hour, but, alas, Merna’s husband…” He glanced at Merna. “Well, you see this woman, Merna? Her husband had an unfortunate accident this last evening. He was of a rather delicate nature, you know, something he failed to inform the inquisitor about.” He looked again at Merna. “Poor fellow, and with such a big, needy family, too.” Then he added, with a grin, “And growing bigger every day...”
Turning his attention back to Ishtar, Claudesius crooned wistfully, “It would be such a shame, you know, with everything this family has already suffered, to see any more misfortune befall them today.”
Ishtar stared first at Claudesius and then at Merna, saying nothing.
Claudesius replied to her question unuttered, “This family was arrested for being members of an illegal society that is in opposition and a threat to the emperor and this great nation. It is my regrettable duty to pass proper judgment upon these people so that justice is served.” He smiled. “Of course, with your help, I might be able to act with added care and leniency, seeing all that your dear friend, Merna, has already suffered.”
Tears were now streaming down Ishtar’s face as she cried out, pleading, “Please! Please, my Lord! Cast me to the lions! Kill me! Kill me!”
Shaking his head, Claudesius calmly answered, “It is not your judgment that is being determined at the moment. Merna has disregarded our laws and shown disrespect to our gracious leader and king. She must answer for her error. But you may be able to decrease the severity of her punishment by assisting me in this matter.”
“How!” Ishtar asked. “How can…what can I do?”
‘She is yours!’ The voice in the governor’s head called out. ‘Make her worship me and she will become your willing servant.’
He had won… or so he thought. Puffing out his chest in exalted pride, Claudesius answered, “The power is in your hands, my child… has been. Just go to the little statue and show your respect for our gracious leader and chief magistrate, and I will be able to show some mercy to this distraught woman and her needy family.”
Ishtar cast her eyes toward the stones, shaking her head and with arms outstretched, cried, “I can not! You know I can not! I can not do such an evil thing to my God and Lord!”
Claudesius was taken aback. Surprised and angry, he shouted, while motioning to the nearby guards, “See to my justice! Take such a little thing and feed it to my pets!”
In less than a breath, a guard had taken hold of Hilen’s arm and, whisking her away from Merna, flung the screeching child several feet through the air and over the edge of the animal pit.
Merna struggled up, screaming, “My baby! My baby!” Crack! Another guard hit Merna on the side of the head, knocking her down.
The cats made the most terrifying noises as they fought for the tiny morsel. Ishtar clutched her ears, adding her dreadful wails to the tumultuous sounds. “My God! My God! Why have you forgotten us to these devil beasts who walk like men?! You must help us! Help us! I cannot do this alone!”
Laughing, Claudesius chided, “Where is your great Yehowah now?! Do you think he may be asleep in blissful rest? Maybe he needed to relieve himself? Yes, yes, that’s it. He needed to relieve himself.” Putting his fisted hands on his hips, he shouted, “I am your god! Now listen to me and live! I can give you and all this other rabble life!”
Treston said nothing, but was nearly numb with shock. Never had he seen the governor act in such a violent manner. Yes, he had witnessed murder, deceit, rape and even more disgusting acts come from this man, but never with the abandon being displayed at the moment. ‘Devil beasts?’ Ishtar included him in that lot. Was he truly a devil beast-man? The words stung, possibly because they struck chords of truth.
Extending his hand, Claudesi
us calmly made Ishtar an offer. “Come, my child, just show a little respect to the ruler who can give you strength and life. Come…” He waved his hand toward Merna and the boys. “Come and do your sacred duty, and allow them life.”
An inner turmoil tore at Ishtar’s heart and soul, she ripping clumps of hair from her head while clawing her face, crying inconsolably. With swollen eyes, the girl pleaded with Claudesius. He said nothing, waiting upon her. Finally, with halted breath, she choked out her reply. “I… I… I will never surrender my love for my God… not to a demon whore! Never!”
Shocked and angered, Claudesius fought his feelings, acting as though sad and remorseful. “What a pity. And I thought you were so wise…very disappointing.” He studied Merna. “The poor woman is weak. This ordeal has done so much to add to her frail condition already. And look, her baby is due soon. What a shame to lose a life before it sees the world around it. And the boys, to see such loss…both parents in one day.”
Ishtar stared at the stones, quietly sobbing.
“Bitch!” Claudesius screamed. “It’s all your fault! You little bitch! You and that goddamned religion of yours! You’ve ruined it all! You’ve ruined it all for me!” He lifted his arm, motioning the guards.
Two men grabbed Merna and with a grunt, they roughly lifted her to stand and, half dragging her, pulled the whimpering woman toward the pit. At the edge, they stopped, waiting further orders.
Shaking a finger at Ishtar, the governor warned, “You have just one more chance to save your friend and her unborn. Tell me, what will it be?”
Choking back bile from an unruly stomach, Ishtar cried, “I will not betray my God!”
Merna stood motionless, mumbling, “Hilen… Hilen...” over and over.
Claudesius nodded toward the guards.
Merna screamed when the two men shoved her into the pit, her cries quickly replaced by the sounds of tearing flesh and crunching bones.
“Mommy…! Mommy…! Mommy…!” Dilean and Jessie cried, tears streaming down their faces. They started to get up and run to her.
“Down you!” A guard gruffly shouted, cuffing one of the boys and grabbing the other. “Now sit!” He shoved them to the stones. “Your time’s soon enough. Be patient.”
Ishtar wailed Merna’s name and pitched forward, almost knocking herself senseless on the pavement. Stunned momentarily, she lay motionless.
Concerned not for the girl’s welfare but fearing she might be dead, ruining his hoped-for fun, Claudesius leaned forward to look for signs of life.
Eventually Ishtar stirred, the sound of the cats’ feasting pummeling her ears. The sights of blood and gore witnessed at Travet’s demise flooded her brain, except this time she was watching Merna and Hilen being ripped apart by the beasts. Slowly her dreaming passed, she awaking to the nightmare of the reality around her.
With her remaining strength, Ishtar pushed herself back on her knees. She hunched forward, resting on her hands, rasping in shallow breaths. There was little expression to be seen in her tortured face and swollen eyes. Like some animal that had been beaten and broken, the girl blankly stared at the paving stones, dumbly nodding her head while bloody froth dripped from her mouth.
Silently relieved to see the girl lived and was strong enough to still sit, Claudesius began to gloat. He could see Ishtar’s exhaustion and defeat written on her face. One more little push and she would be his. Then…then…
‘Hurry! She is almost ours! Give the creature to us so we can have our fun with it. You have done well.’ There were now two voices in the back of the governor’s brain calling out to him, but speaking in the way a master does to his servant.
Claudesius smiled, nodding, but his heart was not listening. He was already making new plans. This child was a true contestant. She made his blood heat with passion in a way it had never before been made to do. He would not surrender the girl up to the circus this day, possibly ever. Somehow he was going to whisk her away, she becoming a slave in his house. After all, why should they have all the fun? Had he not satisfied their desires in the arena so many times before? He wanted this one prize - for once he wanted a prize just for himself…not the chiding voices in his head.
Those voices inside Claudesius could not read his mind, but they did feel a change in his emotions, one that disturbed them. ‘Be careful, now. We need this prize. You can do with it what you please for now, but it must stand in the crowd today. Do not forget!’
‘I will not! This prize is mine! I will not give it up!’ Claudesius’ anger reddened his face.
A searing pain shot across the governor’s eyes. The voices, feeling his defiance, warned him of their power. Always before they had been unobtrusive and merely suggestive, but Ishtar was the key to a far bigger prize. Too much was at stake this day. Already armies in distant realms were gathering, waiting an order to bring the rabble house down. Symeon must surrender his faith this day. His demise would be the linchpin upon which Heaven’s War would swing.
Claudesius winced from the pain in his head. He did not understand what was happening, but was aware that other powers were displeased with his attitude. What were the gods doing anyway? Grudgingly, the governor accepted the girl’s fate. Still… he had some time to carry out his personal fantasies, but he must hurry in order to satisfy them.
Drawing Ishtar’s attention to the boys, Claudesius asked, so concerned, “What a pity. What a pity. Whatever shall become of these two forlorn orphans? To see the death of both parents in the same day and now…and now? What do you say? Their fate rests in your hands. You must decide.”
Ishtar stared at Claudesius, saying nothing. She slowly shook her head as tears began anew.
“Fool!” Claudesius shouted, infuriated at the girl’s resistance. “Must an entire family come to its end in one day? What are you proving?! Your God does not see you! Fool! Fool!”
The governor was desperate. What could he do? Ishtar refused all his threats. She would let the boys die before surrendering to Claudesius’ wishes. She would… Wait! He rubbed his chin in thought. After studying the two children, he turned his attention back to Ishtar, smiling, forlorn. “Such fair-skinned little children need special attention, someone who understands how to care for them in such a tender hour. I will let them live.”
He motioned Treston. “Take these fair-skinned boys to our distinguished guests. They will know how to treat with these little blond-haired fellows.”
Ishtar acted before Treston could move. Desperate, she waved her hand for the governor to stop. Gathering up her remaining strength, the girl managed to struggle to her feet with deliberate effort, forcing wobbly legs to move her toward the table on which the statue and incense fire were placed.
Claudesius’ body was trembling in orgasmic excitement. He had won! He had won! In only moments, he could whisk the girl away from here to his private sanctum, hidden deep within the bowels of the palace. There was time - a few fleeting hours - for him to enjoy the rewards for such a hard won contest. Then he could decide whether to listen to those troublesome voices or not.
“That’s a good girl.” He tried to hide the joyful excitement in his voice. “You are acting wisely. Soon this will all be over and everything here will only become like some bad dream. The boys and you can go at your leave. You can see your mother again. All this will soon be over.” Claudesius grinned in triumph.
Treston watched closely. Something wasn’t right. He caught the glint in Ishtar’s eyes. There was a hidden power behind those eyes that sent chills down his spine. Many a battle he had fought and many wild men he had bested in combat, but never had he seen that look of madness - not, at least, from an opponent facing defeat. Still, this was the governor’s game. He would not interfere, dared not.
With unsteady steps, Ishtar made her way to the incense table, resting her hands on it, exhausted upon reaching it. Tiny tremors rippled across the
girl’s naked flesh, making the golden firelight from the incense altar dance on the silver beads of sweat covering her skin. For the longest time she did not move.
Treston watched, wondering if Ishtar had the strength to do what was expected of her. As the time passed, he noticed a strange feeling creeping into his heart. He began to wish, in some way, that she had not surrendered her faith. Somehow, her unwavering strength had moved him in ways never before experienced. And now, while she stood before the god-king statue, he was feeling let down, as if he had also failed, or been failed.
Ishtar’s hand slowly moved. Then, to everyone’s surprise, her head snapped back, sending her hair floating upon the air. She stood bolt upright, glaring at Claudesius. In a defiant voice that could pierce the heart, she cried out, “If my God rescues us from your hands this day, it is of little consequence! Let it be known to you… man of dust… I will not bend a knee to any dungy idol and contrivance of man. The Devil be damned and all men with him!”
With both hands, Ishtar clutched hold of the statue and, swinging it high and wide, swept it down and across the table, splintering wood while scattering burning oil and incense in every direction. Then, with a grunt, she heaved the statue toward the stones, shattering it into a thousand flying shards that sparkled and glittered in the firelight.
The things that happened next arrived in little more than a blur. Treston stepped forward, reaching out to stop Ishtar. Too late! Claudesius lifted his hand in rage and opened his mouth to curse the girl. And Ishtar fell forward, grabbing her head crying out in pain.
“Fool child!” Treston took another step toward Ishtar but was suddenly stopped by an invisible wall of chilling cold. Yet it was that step taken that saved his life.
At that moment, the earth began to shake and the sky thundered in anger. Stones and dust fell from the ceiling above them, sending guards and slaves scattering. Then, with a crack! and a roar, the palace wall and ceiling behind and above the lions’ pit crumbled, cascading tonnes of stones and rubble into the pit. Panicked roars from below rent the air, only to be quickly snuffed out by the smothering dust. Again, the sky shook the palace with its maddening thunders.
Stunned motionless, Claudesius and Treston stared helplessly at the drama unfolding around them. Stormwinds swept through the broken wall while jagged lightning ripped the sky, filling the chamber with blinding flashes of light. The ground continued to shake, tearing giant stones from the ceiling and casting them to the floor. Amidst all this turmoil, Ishtar began to rise.
Treston tried to flee, but his feet refused to move. A dark shadow surrounded him, catching him in its freezing grip. He watched, spellbound, seeing in visions. Or reality? He could not tell, for he heard words spoken as thunders while seeing strange sights, but all through the veil of shadow. It was not the same, though, for Claudesius.
In terror and disbelief, Claudesius watched Ishtar reach out toward him, a black fire growing in her eyes until consuming her in its angry inferno. Her appearance took on the shape of some monster rising from the darkness. His legs trembled as he, not noticing, wet himself in fear. The raging fire-monster approached.
The monster’s voice rolled with thunders, hurling pronouncements like lightning bolts crashing in the sky. Claudesius’ entire universe, his life and deeds, flashed before his eyes in a heartbeat only to explode into nothingness and be swept away on the words this monster spoke.
From the depths of the abyss, from ages beginning and ending, from beyond the edge of the universe, an angry voice chided him with questions. “Little man! Little man! Tell me, little man, tell me if you can! Where were you when I founded this earth?! Did you, in your mightiness, drive its pedestals down deep for me?! Can you stop the sea when it is agitated or catch an eagle in the sky?!”
The monster lifted a hand, making the air smoke and crackle from its heated energy. “How dare you! How dare you, you insolent little speck of dung, call down evil on me! On me, the Maker of all things!”
Crimson flames grew in the monster’s eyes, its indignant rage increasing as it lashed out with venomous rebukes. “Your filthy idols are nothing more than dust beneath my feet! Nothing! Tell me, man of dust and ash, if you have wisdom! Did Pharaoh’s gods save him from the torrents when I brushed his military might into the sea?! Tell me!”
Claudesius quailed, raising his hands to cover his face.
“Tell me, food for maggots! I brought Dagon down in his own house, smashing his idol to pieces! The Hivites! Hittites! And the Girgashites! Do you know the names of their gods that I, long ago, consumed in my fiery rage?! Tell me, man of dust! If you can, tell me!”
A thunderous crash shook the room, filling the darkness with dozens of blinding static fireballs. The monster stepped closer, reaching out a smoldering hand. “Tell me, little man, one born blind and dumb! How strong was Goliath’s god so that my little child cut him down and carried his head away as spoils?! Tell me, if you have speech! Where is the glory of Assyria, city to the god-king?! Can a person water his camels in Nineveh today?! No! Its gods fled from before my face and… and in my fury, I laid it waste and burned it with fire!”
Claudesius was too terrified to speak or run. He cowered, crying out with tears for mercy.
None was offered, the monster only becoming more enraged. “I do not tolerate my enemies forever! I cut down Belshazzar and his house in one night because he dared to drink wine from my holy cups! These children of mine are worth many cups! And what of your own King Agrippa?! He was haughty, failed to give me glory for gifts given him. My angel, in her rage, struck him with maggots so that he died! Where were all the gods of those people on the day of my glory?! Answer me! Little man of dirt and clay… ANSWER ME!”
Flooding rain whipped by hurricane-force winds swept into the chamber, stinging Treston’s flesh with a burning, like icy flames. Through half-blinded eyes, he watched, transfixed, seeing Ishtar having taken on the shape of some mythical, fiery beast slowly advancing upon the governor. And Claudesius? Like a man in a drunken stupor, he dumbly stood before the advancing black fire, shaking so that his knees knocked.
Again the storm unleashed its fury with more thunderous outbursts. Immediately following, the monster railed anew, “Who are you to set laws and pronouncements against me?! I am the Ruler of the worlds above and the realms beneath! In my tumult, I burn cities with fire! And in my rage, I drown worlds under the seas! Can you stop me, oh man of nothingness?! Can you stop me from burning your own city with fire?!”
“Look! Because of the insolence of your kind, saying, ‘We are gods in men’s flesh!’ Look! I am bringing your wonderful cities, the jewels of your pride and the home of your birth, I am bringing them to nothing! In smoke and ash, I will bury them forever! And earthling men will forget they existed. Those cities will become a land of astonishment to time indefinite! You, yourself, I shall make to hear of it in your own days! And you will weep but find no comforter.”
Claudesius fell down on one knee while lifting up shaking hands, quailing, “Have mercy on me, my Lord! For dumb and stupid a man I am! Have mercy on this fool!”
“Mercy?!” roared the monster. “Travet begged for mercy from you!” At that, the smoldering flame burst forth into a raging orange inferno rising high above the cowering governor.
Treston could see his own skin blister, turn black, and then burst into flame. His eyes felt as though they were melting, yet he could still see. The world around him caught fire, dissolving into vaporous mist, then blown away by the violent storm. Ravaged by the ferocity of the tempest, naked to the world, he watched this drama unfold before him.
The monster’s raging voice rose in a crescendo, its words howling above the screeching of the wind. From a gaping mouth, fires spat, filling the air with curses and denunciations. Claudesius could feel his very being disintegrating, flesh dissolving off charred bone. But as the fire scourged his soul, he discerned a str
ange sensation that he was not alone in his body. The presence of hundreds or possibly thousands of beings… if that is what they could be called… the man served host to. And it was to these demons the monster was now addressing its words.
In a howling, the monster screamed, “Oh, you! Lord of the flies! How will you escape my day of retribution?! Most beautiful of my children you are, but putrid to my nose you have become! Dig for yourself a pit and see if you can hide from my wrath!”
With an extended hand, it shook a finger in Claudesius’ face. “The Whirlwind! The Destroyer! He is coming in his rage! And he will humiliate you and leave you naked and defiled! My daughters will rape your manhood, cutting off the manliness from your house!”
The beast then roared wild with laughter, pointing toward itself. “Look! The maiden standing before you will lift up a great sword and in her vengeance will slaughter your lover, lifting his carcass on a stake in celebration. And you! You will hear of it and weep over your loss.” It reached out a hand, fingers spread. “Your end will come in one day! My own daughter, the one you despise and call a usurper, by her hand you will perish, in the delight of her laughter!”
Claudesius cringed in terror, seeking to flee, but his feet would not move. The world spun around him in a dizzying blur and he found no helper, his guards having fled except for Treston, who stood there like a statue, half hidden in mist.
The monster again turned its attention toward the governor, raging on. “Confess to me, if you can! Where is your great power and might?! A tongue?! What has become of a tongue so eager to mock the God of heaven?! Will you humble yourself before my greatness… or must I destroy you this very hour?!”
At that moment, the monster’s fingers tightened around Claudesius’ wrist. A burning pain swept up his arm and through his body, so agonizing he could not scream, but also so purifying, he felt life flow anew throughout his soul. There was a scream, though - thousands of them, one enveloping chorus as the voices in the back of his head cried out collectively in one last, dying gasp.
“It is done!”
Claudesius heard the words, but in a voice nearly forgotten by him. Quickly, his eyes focused upon the face of Ishtar, she holding his arm. Light showers drifted on a summer breeze that echoed the storm’s passing. The spatter of water drops falling from the roof onto the cobblestones created a happy melody to the ear. ‘Drip… drip… drip all is well, all is well, all is well.’
Treston almost fell when the shadow released its iron grip. He looked up to see the few remaining guards crawling out of hiding places, the rest having fled to the city streets. Eyes filled with wonder and fear searched the lower palace, puzzling over what had really happened. Only Treston had seen the governor’s vision, yet even he had not heard what was spoken. Still, any who had witnessed the child speak as if with the thunders of the tempest were filled with trepidation and forever changed regarding the girl and the God she professed. Never did they forget, and many were the ones they told, turning the events of that day into legend and fable.
Ishtar stood facing Claudesius, she again as beautiful as the first moment he had seen her. Gone were the monster’s fiery eyes, replaced by the girl’s cool, serene stare, almost chilling to the governor’s bones. Calmly and gently, she addressed him. “My hour is come. We must leave.”
Claudesius stood up, dumbly looking into Ishtar’s face. Fumbling in his speech, he said nothing at all.
Ishtar released her grasp and stepped back, warning, “My God can overlook your travesty done this day, but, should you touch only one hair on Cephas’ head, your wife and children shall become Ogust’s playthings at tonight’s festivities and you… you will be burned in the very gown taken from me in your court.” She waved her hand, lowering it open-palmed in front of him. “If you will listen to wisdom and truly give ear to my voice, and you do recall with knowledge all that has been yours to see and hear this day, the death of the city you so dearly love will not happen in your lifetime.”
A strangling fog, one that had held the governor so long in its grips, was slowly lifting. Claudesius stared into the eyes of a child? Woman? Goddess? He did not know, but he did know that his heart begged for this moment never to end. He desired Ishtar now more than ever, but no longer to satisfy some sordid passion. No! He desired answers… answers to secrets hinted at but not revealed that this child understood. How could she seek death when he needed her insight and wisdom? Time! Claudesius needed time to sort matters out. And there was precious little remaining unless… unless…
Gazing at Ishtar in fear and amazement, Claudesius sought some way to change time and space. He argued, hands outstretched, “Please! Let us give the coming hour rest. Give me time to find another way to deal with you and your deeds. Give me time to seek the release of your uncle from this curse that I have placed over him. Please! Let us retire from here and we shall decide matters with understanding.”
Ishtar’s answer stung Claudesius’ ears and heart. “No! My hour has come and you cannot stop it. Should the winds of the Great Sea decide to strike the shore with a tempest, can a man brush it aside as nothing? You could better stop the wind than delay the coming hour by one handbreadth.”
She then pointed toward the shattered statue and incense stand. “You have a law, and you know well what your law states. Should your own son, in his innocence, fall upon the god-statue and destroy it, he would have to suffer my fate. Besides, the power to reprieve no longer rests in your hands. Look around! See how few of your servants stand with you. The others have already heralded the morning’s events to the crowds. Would they not stone even you in their passion to right this great wrong?”
Claudesius persisted to argue his point. “Troubling thoughts cloud my mind with confusion. I cannot judge you until they clear.”
Ishtar shook her head. “Gone is the darkness from your heart. You think with a mind freed from its wicked hosts. Better are you the judge now than when you stood silent upon the ramparts of the Tower of Ja-Boccan and swore an oath to Zeus, confessing need for wisdom and understanding.”
Stunned speechless, Claudesius dumbly stared in shock and amazement. He was little more than a lad when he stood upon the smoking mountain that overlooked his home city. Ja-Boccan? It was nothing more than a rocky outcropping that cast its shadow into the steaming pit, named by him and his childhood friends when small boys. And his oath to Zeus? Only he knew of it, when first becoming a city councilor, and it was spoken only in his heart. Now the governor was troubled more than ever.
With tears and uncertain speech, Claudesius broke his silence. “Who are you? You bind me with deathly cords that I cannot break free of. I am confused and cannot decide right from wrong. I fear you are a god sent here to test me out. How can a man retain hope for life when he seeks the violation and death of a goddess?”
Serenity filled Ishtar’s face. Someone else guided her mind while soothing an aching heart so that the atrocities recently heaped upon her were little more than half-forgotten dreams. She softly answered, “I am no goddess. A child of this world, born of dust and clay is all that I am. My mother you have seen and my father I have spoken of. Your attempted violation of my flesh is no more or less damning than what you have done to all so many other maidens.”
Claudesius began to quail anew. Ishtar calmed him, reassuring, “This truly was a day of testing, but not yours. The world has changed for me. It no longer holds my spirit bound. Soon I start a new journey. I see its opening door as I speak.” She motioned him forward. “Come! The hour is late and you must still cast your judgment against me in the city gate.”
The governor refused.
Ishtar touched his hand. “You do not sin at this time. You must exercise your authority given you. It was for this hour that you received it. Now come. I hold you harmless in this matter. I accept responsibility for the price that is to be paid for my insubordination.”
Claudesius cast his eyes downward. What could he do? He felt nauseous and his heart ached with regret and loss. There must be something, some loophole, another way. He was good at it, always had been. Ah, but today there was no way. There were too many witnesses to Ishtar’s act. She had sealed her fate intentionally. The girl must die in public disgrace. But hadn’t he forced such a fate upon her? Was he not even more culpable than she? There was nothing left to be done. Or was there?
Treston came out of his daze when the governor waved, calling his name. He hurried forward. “Yes, my Lord?!”
Claudesius was anxious. “Go to my chamber and tell my wife to deliver into your hands her purple gown, the one with the crest of the governor’s house on it. And fetch the servant women with perfumed water and our best oil. And be quick!”
Treston bowed and started to hurry away.
Claudesius ordered him to halt. “And these boys, I place them under your protection. Take them to be with my family until you can return.”
“Yes… Yes, my Lord!” Treston saluted, and with another guard assisting, gathered up Merna’s sons and departed.
Directing Ishtar and the others to follow, Claudesius addressed the girl. “Whether you are a goddess walking among us is not mine to know, and your choosing death instead of life is not mine to call, but I do have say in other matters. You will live up to your name. You will not pass through these palace gates like some common criminal or lowly slave but as Ishtar, the ‘star delivered from heaven’, the ‘Queen of Heaven’, you will journey to your new destiny. That, my child, I can do.”