Enki’s Songbird Pt 6 (Gilgamesh, Hakuno)
“He’s crazy,” the goddess had whispered repeatedly the moment that Gilgamesh had gotten close. “He’s gone completely insane.”
She hurried to her feet, running for her temple and demanding the doors be shut. Her body was wrapped in a blanket as the doors were closing.
He, alone, stood in the remains of what had been the bridal market.
There were bodies strewn about the ground. There were small fires that were being put out by the citizens as he glanced around. The people and priests that had managed the market were gone. Gone in the sense of brutality and severe punishment.
Enki hadn’t merely killed them, he’d made them doomed for eternal suffering.
The methods of death were more heinous than anything he could imagine would have happened to one of Enki’s daughters. The sheer number of bodies made it clear that the god was not playing around or simply feeling a petty argument. Someone, somewhere, had taken the god’s child and there was death in store for that man and their home.
He needed to warn Ninsun about this.
“My king,” one of the surviving young men murmured.
“Bury the bodies somewhere quiet. Tell Ishtar’s temple to send someone to pray. If no one will go, send for one of Ereshkigal’s.” The woman would honor her sister’s fallen. The woman was, on occasion, respectful to her sister.
If not, then he wasn’t sure what else could be done. The souls would be damned, most likely.
Perhaps Ereshkigal would enjoy that.
The ziggurat was quiet as he entered once more. His direction was almost automatic, heading around his audience room to where the gardens were.
His mother always went to the gardens when upset.
Her hands were stroking at the young maiden’s hair. Her voice was soft as she murmured to the plain wren of a woman he had taken for himself.
On the upside, it seemed that the maiden was finally awake and active.
She’d been rather intent upon resting, to the point that, when waking up, she would simply go back to sleep. She ignored his commands and kept her mouth carefully shut. Had she been of divine presence, he would be worried, but she just felt like someone with magic. No doubt, she was probably a magician who had held a decent voice and had gotten herself stolen.
It would be easy to ascertain once she opened her mouth and spoke.
“Gilgamesh.” Ninsun looked over at him, sighing in relief. “You’ve calmed Enki.”
The girl looked up at his mother in surprise.
“He’s not calm, but he’s stopped his rampage.” Gilgamesh shook his head. “Who has Enki been with to be this out of control about a child?”
“Enki has entertained no visitors. In fact, we’ve not sensed a single divine presence around his home. He barred us a while back, but we keep him in check… until recently.”
“Do you think perhaps it’s an Anzud bird rather than a child?”
Ninsun shrugged, “I don’t know. He’s never-“
The woman before his mother dared to leap to her feet, running for one of the nearby exits.
Without thinking, he pounced, grabbing her and pulling her against him as his mother stood up. The body in his arms squirmed and hit, but he pinned her hands behind her back.
“I do believe that my son just asked you a question. It would be wise to be answering.” His mother was closing the distance between them, her arms crossed and her eyes glued to the woman he was holding. “You have decided to run from me while I am speaking to my son. Do you not fear the gods, child? I can be more fearsome than Enki.”
Lie, but the woman in his arms shook her head and motioned at the door.
“Words,” Gilgamesh told her.
She shook her head, motioning at her throat.
“I heard you make a noise when we were at the market. You can speak. You choose not to.”
“I need to go find my Abum before he does anyone else harm.”
The market hadn’t been wrong when they had described her voice.
It was melodious, soft; only to be likened to something like the sound of a lyre or a flute when played by the most accomplished of hands. The gentle lilt and tone of her voice would have made Ereshkigal’s most damned weep at her feet. It would have been sending Nanna and Enlil running to scoop her up and carry her off to their homes.
It was the sound of a god’s child, a god who could create beings of unparalleled beauty.
Gilgamesh felt himself pale.
His mother’s stern look was cast aside, her hands immediately on the woman’s face as she grew more and more excited.
“You need to speak again!”
Uruk is doomed, Gilgamesh thought.
