Inanna's Descent into the Underworld Ch. 04

Nevertheless, Inanna made a final appeal. "Ereshkigal... you can still turn from your chosen course. The errant boat may return to the shore; the straying man may return to his home; the forlorn sheep may return to its fold. We need not do battle. Let us return to Irkalla - invite me as a guest, and I will do you high honor as the Queen of the Underworld. Let us recline and converse, and consider how best to return the Elder Ones to their appointed places. They are too much for you and I, mighty though we are in our way, to have dealings with. Let us return to Irkalla - we shall go together, hand in hand!" She lowered her arms, no longer showing her muscles in warlike display, and raised them, palm upwards, towards her dark-eyed counterpart.

But Ereshkigal shook her head slowly. "The grain once cooked cannot return to the field. The wine once drunk cannot return to the amphora. I will have vengeance. My wrath boils over, and breaks the levees. It will sweep over the earth; it will rise to the high heavens, yea, even unto the gates of Nibiru; I will drown Utu in it; I will break the bones of Anu; I will feast on the marrow of Enki; and you, I will keep ever after at the foot of my throne, as a woman keeps a pet, as a mistress keeps a plaything, as a Queen keeps a slave!"

"Then I shall stand against you now," Inanna said grimly. She returned her arms once more to the posture of aggression, and once more her muscles swelled with gathering power. "If you will not return willingly, I will return you by force!"

It was then that Ninshubur rushed in, and froze in shock at the sight before her eyes, taking in beaten Ningal on the floor, and the awesome might of Inanna and Ereshkigal on full display, as they both prepared to clash.

"Mistress!" she cried. "Ninurta lives yet, but he cannot join his strength to yours. But I can!"

Inanna called to her servant. "Ninshubur, my loyal sukkal, you are as a strong shield arm to me. Listen to me now: bear the Mother of Reeds outside, to the river outside her door; carry her in your arms, as you go into the middle of the river; immerse her within its waters. Do so, now - and do not interfere in our battle, but if I should fall... then fight Ereshkigal, with all your might, my brave handmaiden!"

Ninshubur knew her mistress would never issue such a command unless the situation was truly dire. Ereshkigal's rampage had to be stopped, at all costs - and Ninshuur was a warrior queen, a strong goddess in her own right. She, too, would have to fight, even if their complacent brother gods refused to bestir themselves.

So she obeyed. Her slender but strong arms gathered up Ningal's heavy body, and she bore the Mother of Reeds on her firm shoulders and back. Then casting one last look at the two goddesses, she ran out.

Inanna and Ereshkigal began to close the distance, step by graceful step, the positioning of their arms still unchanged.

"I felt such joy, Inanna," Ereshkigal said softly, "when I overcame you in our Trial. I tremble with anticipation now, at the thought of contending once more with you, and feeling my superior strength against yours!"

"I, too, am eager to contend once more with you, Ereshkigal," Inanna replied, in that same low voice. "For I want you to know this keenly: you shall not defeat me again. I chastised you once, and then you chastised me; but now I am not as before. My strength shall always be superior to yours!"

They were now only a short space apart - each could now reach out and touch the other, if they wished. Each goddess lowered her arms, and put her right foot forward.

"You will no longer stand between me and my destiny!" Ereshkigal snarled. She reached out, with her left hand.

Inanna did likewise. They clasped each other's left forearms firmly, at a level just below their lush, full breasts. "But I will, Ereshkigal. This was written in the stars. From the beginning, it was always between us!" Their right arms came up, bending at the elbow. The muscles on their arms swelled and writhed with strength. Their right hands came together between them, above their clasped left hands, gripping each other tightly with such force that nothing could have pulled them asunder in that moment.

"I will chain you to my throne, and smash your worship out of existence," Ereshkigal promised, her voice dripping venom. "And I shall drive the cursed shame of my first defeat at your hands from my memory forever!"

"Enough talk!" Inanna's clarion voice rang out.

"Yes!" Ereshkigal spat her agreement. "Let this be our final battle!"

Every muscle on both bodies stood out, in the same moment, as they commenced their contest for dominance. There was no movement - their arms were evenly matched, and each goddess pulled with equal force. But the force was so immense that the very walls of the sanctum began to tremor, as though the earth-serpent were writhing in an earthquake.

The muscles on their arms swelled until they could swell no more, and their nipples stiffened, hardening until they could cut rock.

They wrestled, goddess against goddess, strength against strength.

***

In the streets of Uruk, there was much wailing and gnashing of teeth.

From the steps of the palace, a woman came down, staggering unsteadily. There was hollowness, a void, in her eyes. Her fine robes hung in tatters off her frame. Her fair, pale skin was stained with mud and blood. Her delicate feet, bare and without sandals, were lacerated with many wounds, but she seemed not to care.

She walked down the broad avenue leading to the palace. The trees to either side of the road were now burning, withered, dead. Where before they had given shade to supplicants, fruit to the thirsty, and branches for birds to make their nests, now they stood still and silent, leafless.

From her mouth issued words. "My brother... my cheerful... my brother, your feet hurt... do your feet hurt? Do your feet hurt on the roads below? Let my feet hurt with you... my brother, I will hasten with you... I will hasten with you... going as your slave girl... the slave girl of the lord... my brother..."

Throughout the streets, voices called weakly for succor that would never come. The demon soldiers had gone, but in their wake, the city lay dying.

Eventually, the woman came to a stop, on the banks of the Euphrates. The waters were red with blood and with the fire of the setting sun. She bent down, scooped up some of the water in her hands, and looked at it for a time.

Then she raised her head and gave vent to her grief, flinging the water from her hands.

"Return to your river! Return to your river! Return to your river! O water that my brother cannot drink, O water that Dumuzid cannot drink, return to your river!

"O my brother, lad who has not fulfilled his days! O my brother, shepherd Amah-Ushumgal-Ana, lad who has not fulfilled his years! Man who has no wife, who has no children, who has no friend, who has no companion! O my brother, who can no longer be a comfort to our mother!"

She bent her head then, and sank to her knees, heedless of the mud and dirt.

"The great misfortune has come to you. My brother is no longer alive. My brother is no longer alive. Dumuzid is no longer alive. He will definitely not return. I cannot rejoice over the time when you were born. I... Geshtinanna... to you... Dumuzid... I... I Geshtinanna..."

As she continued her lonely dirge, she gradually became aware that she was not alone. Turning, she beheld that someone stood nearby.

It was a man - an old man, with eyes undimmed by the years but dimmed now by grief and the endless visions of carnage within the city. He stood with the aid of a tall stick, though he did not seem to need it. His hair was a venerable white, as was his beard. He stood, gazing out across the broad expanse of the river.

The man spoke. "Day and night I wept over him - he who underwent with me all hardships, whom I loved dearly. He went to the fate of all mankind. Since his passing, I have not found life - I have roamed, like a hunter, in the midst of the steppe. But I have not found life." And Geshtinanna knew him for who he was.

"You..." she breathed, forgetting for the moment to weep, in her astonishment. "It is you..."

"Are you the sister of King Dumuzid, the Shepherd, Amah-Ushumgal-Ana?" the old man asked, not without gentleness. "Are you the king's younger sister? Are you Dumuzid's sister, Geshtinanna?"

Her grief returned, fresh and raw. "Cut the cord that binds me to life," she wept, "I am his sister, I am his younger sister. Cut the cord. Let me be in a similar state to him; I am his sister. If I had the blade of a knife in my hands, my hands would not hurt. If I had a wine jar on my shoulder, my shoulder would not hurt. Cut the cord; let me be in a similar state to him; I am his sister."

The old man raised his eyes to the heedless skies.

"For whom have I toiled?" he cried out. "For whom have my hands toiled? For whom is being spent the blood of any heart? I, who raised the walls of ramparted Uruk - I, who laid the palace foundations - I, who built the houses of burnt brick - I, who gave praise and worship in the Temple of Inanna - I have not received a boon for myself. I have not given a boon for the people of the city. I have reverenced the gods, who give all, and they have taken away all from me."

"If even mighty Gilgamesh has not the ear of the gods," Geshtinanna wept, "what hope have any of us? Our orisons fade like the smoke of the incense into the air, and vanish."

"The gods are capricious. Cruel and uncaring, they are, in turns," the legendary hero-king said, bitterness dripping from every word. "Even now, many sit, loftily enthroned, in their own ziggurats, while we their servants and creations burn and die."

He lifted his voice in a ritual lament.

"What strange conditions everywhere!

The gods have forsaken us, and disappeared.

The goddess fails us, and keeps at a distance.

Our protecting spirits have taken flight.

Dread has enfeebled the robust.

I am appalled at these things;

I do not understand their significance.

For myself, I gave attention to supplication and prayer.

The day for reverencing the gods was a joy to my heart.

I instructed my people to keep the rites,

And enjoined my people to uphold the gods' names.

But now the plan is annihilated.

The storms foam like a flood.

The ways of Sumer are subverted.

"My heart is enraged... and cannot be appeased," said Gilgamesh, two-thirds god and one-third mortal, builder of the walls of Uruk, former consort of Inanna, slayer of the beast Huwawa, legendary hero-king who had travelled to the mountains of Mashu to speak face to face with the immortal Utnapishtim.

"Where is Inanna?" Geshtinanna cried. "Where is our Strong Mother? Were her hands fettered, that she could not restrain her sister the Dark Queen? Was her mouth stoppered, that she could not speak out against Ereshkigal's actions? Were her legs chained, that she could not come to our defense?"

She had meant those questions rhetorically, but Gilgamesh turned to her with the anger brimming over in his eyes.

"Divine Inanna," he said, "Queen of the Sky, Lady of the Earth, whose holy city Uruk was - she fought and failed. Her strength was not enough; her cunning was not enough; her courage was not enough. Ereshkigal took Inanna captive, a prize of war. But Inanna was revived - Inanna was seen leaving the gates of Irkalla - Inanna was seen accompanied by Ninshubur the Star of the East. They have left. They have abandoned us their children, and gone in pursuit of Ereshkigal the rampaging vengeful one, to continue their war. When the gods war, all we can do is die beneath their feet, like ants under the feet of careless boys and girls."

Geshtinanna slammed the ground with a fist. Her knuckles sank into the soft yielding mud.

"We trusted her," she sobbed. "She was my sister-in-law. Daily we gave her praise and worship. Daily the sweet incense reached her nostrils. On feast days the best calves were slaughtered and burnt offerings made. She has abandoned us, her children. We can do nothing but die. This is the task of mankind."

For long moments, Gilgamesh was silent, as Geshtinanna's sobs continued.

Then, almost too softly to be heard, he spoke to her again.

"Geshtinanna, do you wish for an end to the suffering visited upon us by the gods? Do you wish for mortals to cease being their playthings for sport?"

"I do," Geshtinanna cried fiercely.

"Do you wish this out of vengeance? Is your heart filled with rancor? Do you wish to tear down the abode of the Assembly, to bring your rage to the very gates of the high heavens?" His eyes glinted in the light of the setting sun.

Geshtinanna shook her head. "What use is vengeance? It cannot bring back the dead. It cannot remove the weeds from the uncultivated field. It cannot return the fruits to the trees in the orchards. No, Gilgamesh, my hatred is a petty thing - a candle cannot burn the sun.

"I wish for relations between the gods and us to end. I wish to renounce our contract. They do not protect us, though we entreat most earnestly. When they squabble, they kick down our houses. Let them leave, like the migrating birds, but never return! Let them bring their struggles elsewhere, so we can live in peace!"

She knew her words were blasphemous beyond belief - but she was long past caring. And if the hero-king struck her down for her impertinence - for was he not once the lover of Inanna, did he not speak on equal terms with even Father Enlil and Father Enki - then so much the better. She could rejoin her brother in the depths of the land of the dead.

But Gilgamesh did no such thing. Instead, he spoke again, in a kindly voice.

"Then attend, Geshtinanna. Attend to me.

"I will reveal to you, Geshtinanna, a hidden matter; a secret of the gods I will tell you.

"They are the ones who from Heaven to Earth came - in the Boat of Heaven they came, the same Boat that Inanna, when she was by the reckoning of the gods a girl child, wilfully took from a drunken Enki, to bring Uruk the gifts of laws and the ways of wisdom, and through us magnify her name.

"They come from afar, yea, further than the keenest eye can see, from seas that none of our best-made ships can sail. They grew us from the Uzumua, the flesh-growers, to do their work - for they had come, in great numbers, but not great enough, and many among them clamored to Enlil and Enki that they should have aid, so they could be at ease and enjoy the fruits of labor.

"So we were made, to till the fields and grow the barley for bread and beer; to tend the orchards and pluck the fruits for honey and wine; to protect the pastures and raise the cattle for meat and sacrifice.

"But they, our creators, hold the power of life and death over us. In their hands is the killing-light; in their eyes is the look of death; in their voices is the groan of doom.

"Whence comes this power? The gods can be hurt; they know pain and fear and suffering; yea, even as Inanna has, after Ereshkigal's victory in Irkalla, which none yet have heard news of, though I will bring it to mortal ears.

"Attend, Geshtinanna. Within the heart of the Temple, even beyond the Holy of Holies, there is a Well.

"Within this well is all the power of the universe. Within this well is the fire of a thousand thousand suns and more, yes, a thousand thousand. Within the veins of the gods this fire flows, but without the Well, it cannot flow.

"This Well was in Nippur, in ages past, but Inanna grew mighty, and Enlil, Lord of Nippur, entrusted her with the Well. It was moved, transported over many days in a great ark, and placed deep within, in the ground beneath our feet.

"By means of this Well, the gods have their power and vitality. They yoke its fire, and it serves their whims.

"Would you set mankind free from the yoke of the gods, noble Geshtinanna? Would you bar the gates of the heavens and keep the gods within? Would you strip from them their glory and make them as insubstantial as memory?"

Wide-eyed, Geshtinanna nodded.

From within his robes, Gilgamesh produced a blue pill, the size of a small pearl.

He told her where the chamber of the well was, and how to recognize the correct door within the bowels of the Temple, by the triple-horned sigil above the door.

He told her to swallow the pill before entering, "and it will keep you safe for a full day and a night, and no more; for if you do not do this, you will sicken and die before ever leaving the chamber of the Well."

He told her of the great beast she would see, the beast that swallowed up the fire of the Well, and turned it in its belly into power the gods could use, and he told her how the beast could be put to sleep with her touch.

"Then, when this is done, leave with great haste, Geshtinanna. Let your feet speed you from the chamber of the dying Well. And make haste to flee further still, further even than Ur to the south, further even than Lagash to the east, yea, even further than Nippur or Kish to the north. A great desolation will consume those places, and no man or beast will be able to stay and live. Not even the gods could do it.

"Go up the river, but do not stay close to any Temple city, for the Well is present in all these places at once, though it is only here in Uruk that you may do as I have said. This is a deep mystery, but do not waste thought on it - it is of no purpose to do so. Go up the river, and go into the wilderness, for many days and many nights, until you hear that the land is safe once again for the living.

"I will rise and go about the city, and call upon everyone in it to abandon it, to flee as far as they can. Many will die... but let their deaths be on my conscience, not yours.

"Go now, Geshtinanna. Go and be the savior of mankind."

***

Ninshubur cradled the unmoving body of Ningal in her arms, staggering a little with the weight despite her divine strength. Her lithe maiden limbs were strong, but within Ningal was the essence of every river on the earth. From Ningal came life for plants - this was weighty for even a goddess like Ninshubur.

Nevertheless, she persisted, and stepped into the flowing river just outside the shrine. The reeds on the banks were plentiful, and waved in the wind.

Her mistress Inanna was wise - here, Ningal could have respite, and heal from her wounds. There were marks and bruises on her arms, her belly, and her thighs. Ninshubur shuddered to contemplate what suffering Ereshkigal had inflicted on the Great Lady, who was strong but not warlike.

As she stood waist-deep in the flowing waters and immersed Ningal's body, keeping the head above water, she sang a hymn of praise to the Great Lady, a hymn that used to be sung in the streets of Ur, the city most devoted to Ningal.

"Be joyful - oh, be covered with ornaments,

Loving, gentle, lively Lady of the Reeds!

Your face and skin are smooth and shining;

From your breasts, good cream and sweet butter flow!

Bright Ningal, rising like the sun over the mountains,

A doe in the forest, a morning star at noon,

Ningal is alive - your limbs are full of charm;

From your loins drips heavenly rain, water for seeds!

Give us the bountiful harvest that grows the second crop;

Give us gardens of delight, with fragrant flowers in the evening;

Give us good fir trees covered in fir-cones;

Radiant Ningal, give us life and plenty!"

"Radiant Ningal, take into yourself life and plenty!" Ninshubur silently appended - the Mother of Reeds had such great need of it now.

Her heart raced with worry, when she thought of her divine Mistress, facing the dark goddess within the Temple. She bit her lips as she thought of what she had seen. They had both radiated strength and power, in their own unique ways. In the thickness of muscle and fleshly proportions, Ereshkigal was not in any way inferior to Inanna.