Gilgamesh the King Page 10

  But caution returned, after that first burst of excitement. Even if I had read the message rightly, could I trust it, or her? Inanna the priestess had already led me once into peril; and Inanna the goddess, as everyone knows, is the deadliest of the gods. A message that comes from one, under the auspices of the other, might well be an invitation to doom. I must move carefully. That afternoon I sent word to Uruk, by one of my own slaves, saying simply, “Hail, Inanna, great lady of heaven! Holy torch, you fill the sky with light!” It is what the newly enthroned king sings, when he makes his first hymn to the goddess: let her see in that what she chose. I signed the tablet with the name she had given me, Gilgamesh, and the royal symbol.

  A day or two afterward, Agga called me into the royal throne-chamber, that great echoing alabaster-walled room where he liked to sit in state for hour after hour, and said, “Word has come to me from Uruk that Dumuzi the king lies gravely ill.”

  A joyous surging arose within me like the rising of the waters in the spring. I felt the fulfilling of my destiny now beginning to begin. Beyond doubt, I told myself, this is the confirmation of the message inscribed in pictures on the seal-cylinder. I have read the message rightly: she has already begun to work her deadly spell. And Uruk will be mine.

  But to Agga I said only, with a shrug, “That news causes me very little grief.”

  He shook his head, freshly shaven, brows and beard and all, bald as an egg. He tugged at his jowls and leaned forward so that the pink folds of his bare belly piled one atop the other, and he peered down at me with dark displeasure, whether real or feigned I could not tell. At length he said, “Ah, you invite the anger of the gods, with words like those!”

  My cheeks grew hot. “Dumuzi is my enemy.”

  “As he is mine. But he is an anointed king in the Land, who carries the blessing of Enlil upon him. His person is sacred. His illness should grieve us all: and especially you, a child of Uruk, a subject of his. I mean to send an embassy to Uruk to bear my prayers for his welfare. And I intend you to be my ambassador.”

  “Me?”

  “A prince of Uruk, of the line of Lugalbanda, a valiant hero—I could send no one better, not even one of my own sons.”

  Amazed, I said, “Do you mean to send me to my doom, then? For surely it is not safe even now for me to return to Uruk!”

  “It will be,” said Agga blandly.

  “Can you be certain?”

  “Dumuzi suffers with the sickness unto death; you are no threat to him any longer. All Uruk will welcome you, even Dumuzi. There is advantage in this for you, boy: can you not see that?”

  “If he is dying, yes. And if he is not?”

  “Even if he were not, a safe-conduct is granted to my ambassador. The gods would destroy any city that violated such an oath. Do you think Uruk would dare to lay hands on the herald of Kish?”

  “Dumuzi would. If that herald were the son of Lugalbanda.”

  “Dumuzi is dying,” said Agga again. “There will be need soon of a new king in Uruk. By sending you at this time, I put you into the position most useful to you.” He rose slowly from the throne and came down to stand beside me, and laid his arm heavily across my shoulders, as a father might; for in truth he had been virtually a second father to me. Sweat glistened on his scalp. I felt the physical presence of him almost as I might a god’s: he was massive, not only in his fleshly bulk but in his deep-seated regal authority. Yet there was the smell of beer on his breath. I did not think Father Enlil would smell of beer, nor An the Sky-father. Quietly Agga said to me, “It is all quite certain. My information comes to me from the highest power in Uruk.”

  “From Dumuzi, you say?”

  “Higher.”

  I stared at him. “You are in communication with her?”

  “We are very useful to one another, your goddess and I.”

  In that moment the full truth came to me, and it struck me like the fire of the gods, so that the breath was knocked from me for a moment. I heard the droning buzz of the god-aura within my brain. I saw, enveloping Agga and everything else in the room, a luminous glow, gold with shadows of deep blue within it: the sign of the tempest in my spirit. I trembled. I clenched my fists and struggled to remain upright. What a fool I had been! From the first, Inanna had ruled me. She had engineered the necessity of my flight from Uruk, knowing I would go to Kish and that during my exile I would make myself ready to replace Dumuzi upon the throne. She and Agga had conspired that between themselves; and Agga had sent me to his wars and trained me to be a prince and a leader, and now I was ready; and now Dumuzi, no longer needed, was being pushed into the House of Dust and Darkness. I was no hero, but only a puppet, dancing to their tune. I would be king in Uruk, yes: but the priestess would have the power, she and Agga to whom I had sworn the oath. And the son I had engendered upon Ama-sukkul, daughter of the king of Kish, would be king in Uruk after me, if Agga’s plan worked its way to its final flowering. So Agga’s seed would come to reign in both great cities.

  Yet I might still turn all this to my advantage, if I walked warily.

  I said, “When am I to set out for Uruk?”

  “Four days hence, on the day of the feast of Utu, which is an auspicious time for the commencement of great ventures.” Agga’s hand still tightly grasped my shoulder. “You will travel in majesty, and they will welcome you with joy. And you will bring with you splendid gifts from me for the treasury of Uruk, in recognition of the friendship that will exist between your city and mine when you are king.”

  On the eve of the feast of Utu, the moon, when it appeared, was covered by a veil, which is an omen that is widely understood to mean that the king will attain the greatest power. But the moon did not say which king was meant—Agga the king that was, or Gilgamesh the king that would be. That is the great trouble with omens, and with oracles of all sorts: they speak the truth, yes, but one is never sure what that truth truly may be.

  11

  MY JOURNEY TOWARD URUK WAS like that of a king already enthroned, and my entry into the city was like that of a triumphant conqueror.

  Agga placed at my service three of his finest sailing vessels, of the kind used for the sea trade to Dilmun, with great spreading sails of scarlet and yellow cloth that caught the breeze and sped me downriver swiftly and in the grandest style. I had with me a great richness of gifts from the king of Kish—slaves, stone jars of wine and oil, bales of fine fabrics, precious metals and jewels, effigies of the gods. I was accompanied by three dozen warriors as a guard of honor, and by a good many high officials of Agga’s court, among them his astrologer, his personal physician, and his steward of wines, who saw to my comfort at each meal. My wife Ama-sukkul did not come with me, for she was just then about to be delivered of my second son. I would never see her again; but I did not know that then.

  At each town along, the river the people came out to hail us as we passed by. They did not know who they were hailing, of course—certainly they did not suspect that the kingly bronze-skinned man who returned their homage with a regal wave was one and the same as the fugitive boy who had had their hospitality four years earlier—but they knew that a fleet such as ours must be an important one, and they stood on the banks shouting and waving banners until we were gone from sight. There were at least two dozen such villages, each of a thousand dwellers or more, the northern ones owing allegiance to Kish, the southern ones to Uruk.

  By night the astrologer showed me the stars and pointed out the omens in them. I knew only the bright star of the morning and evening, which is holy to Inanna; but he showed me the red star of war, and the white star of truth. All these stars are planets: that is to say, wanderers. Also he showed me the stars of the northern sky that follow Enlil’s way, and those of the southern sky that follow Enki’s way, and the stars of the celestial equator, which are those that follow the way of An. He taught me to find the Chariot Star, the Bow Star, and the Fire Star. He showed me the Plough, the Twins, the Ram, and the Lion. And he imparted to me much secret knowl
edge of the mysteries of these stars, and how to know the revelations they offer. He taught me also the art of using the stars to find one’s way at night, which was of great value to me in my later journeyings.

  Often I would stand by myself in the darkest hours of the night at the prow of my ship and speak with the gods. I asked counsel of Enki the wise, and Enlil the mighty, and Sky-father An, who rises like the arch of heaven above all things. They granted me great favor by entering my spirit; for I know that the high gods have many things to attend to, and the world of mortal men can occupy very little of their time, just as mortal rulers cannot devote themselves greatly to the needs of children or beggars. But those potent princes of heaven inclined themselves toward me. I felt their presence and it was comforting to me. I knew from that that I was indeed Gilgamesh, that is, He-Who-Is-Chosen; for it is not the business of the gods to grant much comfort, yet they granted it to me as I sailed toward the city of Uruk.

  On the morning of the ninth day of the month Ululu I came to Uruk under clear skies and a huge burning sun. Runners had gone ahead, bearing news of my coming, and half the city, so it seemed, was waiting for me when my ships docked at the White Quay. I heard drumming and the sound of trumpets, and then the chanting of my name, my old name, my birth-name, which I was soon to drop from me. There were some ten thousand people, I think, crowded along the rim of the Dike of the Ship of An, and flowing from there to the great metal-studded doors of the Royal Gate.

  I leaped lightly from my ship, and knelt and kissed the bricks of the ancient dike. When I rose, my mother Ninsun stood before me. She was wondrously beautiful in the brilliant light, almost like a goddess. Her robes were of crimson interwoven with strands of finely drawn silver, and a long curved golden pin fastened her cloak at her shoulder. In her hair she wore the silver crown of the high priestess of An, set with carnelian and lapis, and glinting with highlights of gold. She looked not a day older than when I last had seen her. Her eyes were shining: I saw in them the warmth that emanates not merely from one’s own mother but from great Ninhursag, the fountain of repose, the mother of us all.

  She studied me a long while, and I knew she was contemplating me both as a priestess and as a mother. I saw her seeing the size and power of my body, and the presence that had come upon me in full manhood. There could have been no stronger confirmation of the godhood of Lugalbanda than the godly body of Lugalbanda’s son.

  After a time she put out her hands to me and called me by my birth-name, and said, “Come with me to the temple of the Sky-father, that I may give thanks for your return.”

  We walked at the head of a great procession through the Royal Gate and along the Path of the Gods. At each holy place there was a rite to perform. At the small temple known as the Kizalagga a priest wearing a purple sash lit a torch in which spices had been inserted, and sprinkled it with golden oil, and did the rite of the washing of the mouth. At the holy place called the Ubshukkinakku another torch was lit, and pots were broken. Near the Sanctuary of Destinies a bull was sacrificed, and its thigh and its skin were seared and offered up. Then we ascended to the temple of An, where the old high priest Gungunum mixed wine and oil and made a libation at the gate, smearing some of it on the doorsockets and some on the gate itself. When we were within, he sacrificed a bull and a ram, and I filled the golden censers and made the offering to the Sky-father and to all the other deities in their turn.

  Throughout all this I asked no questions and spoke no words out of turn. It was like moving through a dream. In the distance I heard the steady beating of the lilissu-drum, that is beaten only in the hour of an eclipse, and at the time of the death of kings; and I knew that Dumuzi the king was dead, and that they were going to offer the kingship to me.

  I had not yet felt the goddess-presence. Nor had I laid eyes on the priestess Inanna. Thus far Uruk had withheld the goddess from me, and I had moved only in the presence of the Sky-father, to whom my mother is dedicated. But I knew Inanna would be manifested to me shortly.

  “Come,” said Ninsun, and we crossed from the precinct of An to the precinct of Inanna, and up the steps of the White Platform toward the Enmerkar temple.

  Inanna waited for me there.

  The sight of her drew a gasp of amazement from me. In the four years of my absence, time had burned all the girlishness from her. She had entered into the deepest ripeness of her womanhood and her beauty had become overwhelming. Her dark eyes gleamed with the old wanton sparkle, but also with strange power where there had been mere mischief before. She seemed taller, and more slender, with the blades of her cheekbones sharply outlined; but her breasts were fuller than I remembered. Her deep-hued skin was shining with oil. The only garments she wore were the ornaments of the goddess, the earrings and the beads, the golden triangle at the loins, the hip-jewels and the nose-jewels and the navel-jewels.

  I felt the heavy musky aura of goddess-presence and the buzzing aura of god-presence both at once. The slow steady beating of the drum penetrated my soul and invaded it utterly, so that the drum became me, and I became the drum. I felt myself stretched taut in the sunlight as the felt-covered paddles descended again and again. My eyes met Inanna’s and I was drawn toward those dark immensities just as long ago I had been drawn toward the eyes of my father Lugalbanda, and I yielded myself for a moment and let myself drift into a pool of darkness.

  She smiled, and it was a terrifying smile, the smile of the Inanna-serpent.

  In a low husky voice she said, “The king Dumuzi has become a god. The city is without a king. The goddess requires this service of you.”

  “I will serve,” I said, as all my life I had known I was destined one day to say.

  Though I knew that it was Agga and Inanna who had conspired to give me this throne, for reasons of their own advantage, that did not matter to me. When I was king, I would be king: no one would own me, no one would use me. So I vowed to myself: I would be king, when I was king. Let them tremble who thought to have it otherwise!

  They had everything in readiness. At a signal from Inanna I was taken aside, into a small three-sided building adjoining the temple where the preparations for high services are done. There I was stripped and bathed by half a dozen young priestesses, and then I was anointed in every part of my body with sweet-smelling oils, and my hair was combed and brushed and plaited and gathered behind my head, and they gave me a skirt of flounced wool to cover myself from my hips downward. Finally I gathered into my arms the gifts that a new king must offer to Inanna, and I went slowly forward from the robing-room out into the terrible blast of the summer sunlight, and to the vestibule of the Enmerkar temple. And went within to claim my kingship.

  There were the three thrones, the one with the sign of Enlil, the one with the sign of An, and the one flanked by the reed-bundle of Inanna. There was the scepter. There was the crown. And there on the center throne sat Inanna, priestess and goddess, radiant now in all her awful majesty.

  Her eyes met mine. She looked close upon me, as if to say: You are mine, you will belong to me. But I met her gaze steadily and evenly, as if to answer: You much misjudge me, lady, if that is what you think.

  Then it began, the great ceremony, the prayer and the libations. About me stood the officers of Dumuzi’s reign, the chamberlains and stewards and overseers and tax-gatherers and viceroys and governors, who soon would be dependent upon my mercies. The flutes sounded, the trumpets played. I lit a globe of black incense; I laid down my gifts before each of the thrones; I touched my forehead to the ground before Inanna, and kissed the ground, and gave the proper gifts to her. It seemed to me I had done this a thousand times. I felt new strength flowing through me as though my blood had doubled in volume, as though my breath was the breath of two men, and both of them giants.

  Inanna rose from the throne. I saw the beauty of her long arms and graceful neck; I saw her breasts swaying beneath the blue necklaces of beads. “I am Ninpa the Lady of the Scepter,” she said to me, and took the scepter from the throne of Enlil
and handed it to me. “I am Ninmenna the Lady of the Crown,” she said, and lifted the crown from the throne of An and let it rest upon my brow. Her eyes met mine; her gaze was burning, burning.

  She spoke my birth-name, which would never again be heard in the world of mortals.

  Then she said, “You are Gilgamesh, the great man of Uruk. So do the gods decree.” And I heard the name from a hundred voices at once, like the roaring of the river in the time of flood: “Gilgamesh! Gilgamesh! Gilgamesh!”

  12

  THAT NIGHT I SLEPT IN the palace of the king, in the great bed of ebony and gold that had been my father’s, and Enmerkar’s before him. The family of Dumuzi had already departed from the place, all his wives, his plump doughy daughters; the gods had not granted him sons. Before I went to my bed I confirmed in their position all the officers of the kingdom, according to the tradition, though I knew I would remove most of them from office in the months to come. And I feasted most royally with them, until spilled beer ran in foaming torrents along the channels of the feasting-hall floor.

  At the evening’s end the chamberlain of the royal concubines asked me if I meant to have a woman with me in the night. I said that I did, as many as he could supply; and he supplied them all night, seven, eight, a dozen of them. From the eagerness of them I suppose Dumuzi had been making little use of them. I embraced each one only once, and sent her out and called for the next. For a moment, in their arms, it seemed almost as if I might be able to fill that hollow place within my soul that gave me such torment. Indeed I could—for a moment, for half an hour, and then the pain came rolling back in upon me like a storm cloud. One woman alone might have freed me from this distress, I thought. But that woman, the woman I would have chosen for myself that night had I been free to choose, was of course not for me to have—not then, not until the new year and the rite of the Sacred Marriage. But I allowed myself to imagine that I was with her, as I pressed my body against this concubine and that one.