The Sighs of the Priestess

**Note to readers:

Oh man, I've really written myself into a corner with this one.

For the Witch's Want tale, I wanted a guy out of antiquity - a fearsome warrior with a legend. So I picked a name. There seemed to be enough things in Sumerian history for it to work.

Ok, that was before I read the rest. I've just found out that their son, Ur-Nammu, had a son himself - a pretty important and legendary character. Well crap, I didn't want that! So I wanted to write this as a prequel to The Witch's Want. I figured maybe 3 chapters of the couple's back story and then get on with what the witch wants, you know?. Oh hell, no. I'll be lucky if I can do this in 5 chapters. I'm not a scholar in ancient Mesopotamian history, so if you are, please do your best to overlook the way that I'm about to torture history.

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She held out her hand and they walked back to the hearth. Looking around, she found two of his blankets rolled and set aside. She unrolled them and laid them out on the floor. "Sit as we did before," she said.

It took much less time and effort this time to get them together. In only minutes, she had him moving his fingers quickly enough to maintain his own state and they sat for a time only smiling at each other in their prayers. Slowly, once he'd shown some ability to keep some sort of pace, she took one of his wrists and asked him to do the same, before bringing their hands together.

Then she began to teach him at the pace where their minds could exchange information without the delay of spoken words being heard and interpreted, without the pauses of seeking the correct inflections of speech and the couched terms that come unconsciously when conversing. There was no thinking about what might be meant in the space between them now. Everything was what was meant; no more and no less.

"So you know, in spite of the many lesser gods" she thought to him, "that Ammuru is the main and most powerful, along with his wife, Belet-Seri, the queen of the desert, the scribe of the earth, recorder of the dead. These must be kept foremost in the mind, and so it is easier for me if I use one hand for those prayers and the other for whatever the matter at hand might be."

She found that his mind was as hungry as the rest of him for this, and when she judged that he'd had enough theology for the moment, she instructed him in simple and basic defensive magic. In this space, there was no time lost over his being incredulous and needing to be shown. He just absorbed everything.

It was much the same with the language. In minutes, he had a grasp. He couldn't speak it, not having tried yet, but he had a basic understanding of many everyday nouns and verbs, enough to catch some of what was spoken around him, though here, no one spoke this tongue. She told him it didn't matter. He'd need this for when she taught him to read.

Finally, she knew that he was tiring, but what he'd already learned in this one session amazed her. Even so, he still wouldn't stop.

"What is the gated bridge?"

"It is a bridge near where it is said that the faith began," she answered. "I have been there and seen it. The bridge is a causeway to an old stronghold on the mountain of Jebel Bishri. It is far from where the temple was, but not as distant from here, if what I feel is right. When I was brought here, I saw some caves not far from the city," she thought to him, "There was a sign in the rock there. One could ride through the caves to reach the bridge quickly if this is the right sign."

"The Dead Caves," she heard his thought to her, "I am not from here and all that I know of them is that no one goes near there at night. The dead were brought there at one time, but no longer, from what I have been told."

"I need to go there," he heard her words, "I need to see my mother once more."

"But your mother is dead."

"Yes," she answered, "she waits to see me at the bridge. I must go soon."

"Then we will go," he answered.

"How?" She looked at his face.

He smiled slightly, "Somehow."

"I enjoy this with you," she thought to him.

"I will always hunger for your thoughts," she heard his mind say, "but will I remember any of this later?"

She smiled a little wider and told him yes, that now, he'd likely remember everything.

"You have done so much for me," she thought to him, "but there still remains the matter of the lock. I will tell you of this soon, but for now, I will say that until now, there has been no place in the faith for more than priestesses. I have seen how this constrains us in times when warriors are needed, so I will do things differently."

She moved very slightly to find a bit more comfort for herself without disturbing what they did, "High priestesses have always taken up the position and used the lock as they saw fit, and this has worked. But in times like these, a more forceful priestess would serve better. I am such a priestess, but even that is not enough."

"I will not take up the task completely and then seek a consort, for the lock cannot be moved then. Since we are here together and we know what will be between us, I will take you as my consort and share the lock at the outset, because I know that you would have my heart."

"What of my new gods?" he thought to her, "They may not wish it."

"The high priestess is far from any of the remaining faithful now," her mind replied, "There is only decline for the faith if I must somehow make my way back with the lord general's army at my heels and begin out of the dust and ruins. I believe that the gods are willing and when we begin between ourselves to open and fit the mysteries of the lock of the faith, we will know it if they speak at that time."

"But I wish to know one thing from you at the outset, Lugalbanda. Between us, how do you think of pairing with me? If it is only something between a woman and a man at first, this will suffice for the purpose, but I am a woman, and I would like to know."

"We cannot dance through the meadow yet," he replied, "but you told me that you care for me and that we will love between us. I see no reason not to try to begin this now and then grow comfortable as one would with a set of new sandals. I have my own hope to love you which you saw, and I cannot think of this as only blind rutting."

"Unless that is what I want from you?" her thoughts asked.

His gaze had been locked on her eyes the past few minutes. He now looked and saw her little mischievous smile.

"Unless that is what you want from me," he answered, "But if it is so for the time that comes, as you say, then you must say it."

"No," she replied, "For the time that comes, I need as much of what I see in your heart there as you can give to me."

"Then it will be so," he nodded. "I wanted to say," he smiled to her, "that you do not need to struggle with my name so much as you have. At its heart, I am Banda, but my mother added Lugal to the front a little hopefully, I think."

"You do not need to explain it," she thought to him, "I understand it. Lugal is to say 'a great man' or perhaps 'king', and these you are to me. With much luck and some blessings, we shall see if it rises for others as well."

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He didn't lose consciousness when they stopped this time, but he found himself on his back anyway. The priestess smiled at him softly by the light of the fire and their clothing lay over one of the chairs. He watched her get to her feet and walk to the table and return with the pitcher of wine and one goblet.

She was a little different from most of her people, having black hair rather than the more common reddish hues common among the her kind, though her eyes were blue like so many of her people. He sighed to himself, - and she certainly carried the wild fierceness they were famous for. There were theories among the scholars, but no one really knew where they came from. Some of them were as far away the lands of Canaan and even Egypt, but they were outsiders there as much as they were to any other people anywhere else. They traveled far and there were many of them, all of them fierce if roused.

"Why do you smile?" she asked him.

"I have traveled far, wherever I was sent," he said, "I have seen many people in my marches and rides. I cannot think that I have ever seen one so lovely as my priestess."

She chuckled, "An answer such as that, warrior, wins you some wine."

As he sipped from the goblet, she reached for his manhood and began to stroke it, liking the feel of it in her hand and hoping that she was doing it correctly. She looked at it and wondered aloud, "How will this ever fit?"

His response was several minutes of choking as he fought for breath while the priestess alternated between heartfelt concern for his survival and laughing her head off at the faces that he made.

"What I mean to say is," she said, feeling a little foolish, "I have served in the gardens and I have seen that it is supposed to fit. If a child can come out, then this must be able to go in ... and out ... a few times."

She sighed and rolled her eyes, "And then as that is going on, the couple must groan to each other like sick dogs and shout the other one's name now and then. It is all very simple."

He laughed a little, "Well, thank you for removing the last scrap of romance from an act of love."

She was about to explain how that was what she'd seen when he began to laugh even more.

"I have not said anything else," she said, "why are you laughing at me?"

He shook his head, still laughing slightly, "I am not laughing at you, I never would laugh at you" he said, wiping a tear from his eye, "I only saw us for an instant just as you said. We could not do it that way, you and I."

"And why not?" she asked, beginning to chuckle herself from the way that he laughed.

"Beautiful Nisi-ini-su," he gasped, chuckling, "neither of us has the sort of name for that kind of passionate shouting. Can you hear us calling to each other like that?"

She pictured the scene in her head. A moment later, they were both laughing.

He watched as she sipped from the goblet herself and had a passing thought. He decided that he would do his best out of his want for her comfort, as much as it was possible to do."It is no crime not to know," he said gently.

"But I do know," she snapped back very slightly. She knew that he was trying to help. She was nervous and felt a little stupid.

"It is a little different to see and to do," he offered.

"But – "

"I warn you, Nisi-ini-su, you begin to sound like a hen again." He chuckled, "I do not mate with hens – no matter what you might have heard about me."

It worked and she laughed, but spilled a little wine onto one breast and it ran to sit on her thigh. She reached to wipe it when he stopped her.

"I do not seek to make you feel foolish, beauty, but it is not so simple as you think. A child might pass out of there, but that is never easy and what I have for you can pass in – and out, but if you are nervous it will go only a little easier than the child. Either way holds pain for you. I would help in this if you would allow it. If you sit on me right now and seek to accomplish what you have watched, it will likely happen – and you would not like it. One of the secrets is to be comfortable and peaceful. Sit and enjoy the wine." He sat up a bit and came closer to her.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

He smiled, "I will enjoy the wine too." Then his lips and tongue were on her breast feeling softer than the lightest brush of the finest gown. She wondered how such a light and sensuous touch was possible. She set down the goblet and caressed his head. She waited for him to move to her nipple, and he did before he followed the track of the drops to where one still hung underneath. His tongue felt wonderful.

She decided that for once, her impetuous and hot-headed nature could go to hell. She'd seen into his heart and knew that he cared for her. He'd been with a woman before a time or ... well, he was no virgin as she was.

She watched as he lowered his head to her thigh. When the wine was gone, he kissed his way back up. He moved her hair from her face gently, "Come, Nisi-ini-su, lie with me. I promise that I will do my best so that you enjoy this time. What do you need for what you would do?"

She shrugged after lying down, "The simplest answer is that I have had a man there."

"Then as your friend, I say that this is no more correct than just sitting on that part of me," he said. "Of course it will fit, but it goes better where it is welcomed."

After his gentle kisses and the pleasant attacks of his tongue between her thighs, he did his best to illustrate his point. And of course, by then she had to agree. The priestess wondered about the ease of it, but he smiled and told her that he'd seen her on horseback and her answer to his question was that she'd ridden since she was a young girl. "I take no credit then for deed," he smiled. But she gave him an argument anyway, telling him that he was more than she could have wanted.

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She held up her hand and the little pouch left the table and found its way through the air to her. He watched her and noticed that while she'd been having fun, she now looked serious as she knelt before the fire. Her hand shook slightly as she unrolled the pouch so that it was flat on the blanket. Her hand got as far as the flap and then she seemed to be stuck at that point.

He touched her cheek with the back of his hand, "What is it, Nisi-ini-su?"

She shrugged, "I think that this is some sort of moment for me. I wonder if I am fit for this on the one hand, and if I open this, I almost wish that the main piece was not here. If it is here, it means that my mother is truly dead."

She turned to look at him and he saw that her eyes were brimming. "Yet," she sniffled, "if it is not here, then none of the rest would work. And ... I already know that it is here," she wiped her eyes, "I can feel the bulge."

"Well," he said, "I think that you are fit for it, and there is no one else. What must you do?"

She thought about it. "I need a long knife, and for this, if you can trust me, I would like to keep it for myself. For what I would do here, I must make one lock into two."

He got up and returned with a newer blade. Beyond thanking him, she said nothing, but as soon as it was in her hand, she knew that it was the best one that he owned. She laid the open pouch down and surveyed what looked like a child's collection of plain small pieces of gravel. Laying them out in a definite pattern, she said, "Combined, this is the lock of the faith, though even like this, it lies hidden."

She passed her hands over the stones, and they turned to gleaming polished orbs. She bunched some of the blankets into a place for him to lay his head. "I have never seen this done, and I have never heard of it being done in the way that I will try to do it here."

She smiled at him a little shyly, "At the least, I have seen this done before." With a few soft kisses and the work of her wet lips, she had him hard again in a minute or so and then she eased herself down onto him. She leaned forward a bit to enjoy it for a little while. He noticed the structure of her arms as she rode him and thought about seeing her with a sword. She hadn't held one in months, but the musculature was still evident as were the lines of the tendons.

Rather than speed up, she slowed after a time and just moved in subtle motions. She sat back a little and he watched her hands in her prayers until she stared at the main piece for a moment before stopping. The priestess carefully split the fragment and handed him a piece.

"After all of this is done, you will have to learn many prayers, Lugalbanda, for I try here to make you into something like a priest to share this power with. Before you try to argue, remember that you are the worthy of this in my eyes, and I have made my choices – both in you for myself, and for the faith. Now, place this in the center of my breast near my heart and hold it there."

She began to move her fingers in prayer and he placed the stone. She only moved just enough to keep them both a little pleased. When he thought that nothing would come of it and wondered how to ask, there was a bright light between them and he saw her convulse for an instant and then she smiled as she reached for the second piece.

"This could not be done by you if you were not seen as fit by the gods. Because of you, the faith has a new high priestess," she smiled, "far from where she needs to be and now it needs a new and still-learning high priest." She held the second fragment to his chest and the flash came even quicker because of her hand.

Different fragments were split under her blade and placed in various spots on them as she dictated. All of them disappeared into their bodies. Each one had a purpose, she said, as she explained them, and each time, they heard sounds within themselves which she said indicated the approval of the relevant deity. The second last set was a challenge, as it required certain parts of their bodies to be in contact, such as their wrists for a moment, or their thighs, one at a time. This was accomplished with much care and straining so that if at all possible, they could remain joined. There was nothing in any writings of this, but the priestess told him that for all of the difficulty of it, it would signal their joint intent to the gods. When the second last set was completed, they both heard drums. He stared up at her, "What does this mean?"

"The war god is very pleased with us both," she smiled, "hear the quick rhythm. It will come to you at times when you fight to help you go on. I have heard of this from my mother." She began to move in time with what they heard, but after a little while the sound faded and she cut the last fragment.

"There is one more set that we will share between us," she said, "there is one more by itself, but it must go to the leader of the faith. Once it is placed, all the stones will be the right size as if there were only the one set once more. The power will almost double, I think." She handed him what looked and shone like a small gem.

"Hurry, now, my warrior," she said, "this one must sit where my collarbones join. Place it now and hold it there for me."

Another flash and it was done.

"These last," she said, "go at the very bottom of our bodies. I will place yours first, and you will know where to place mine." She leaned back a little and pressed the gem against his perineum. What he felt was warmth, but he knew then where to place hers. When she laid herself on top of him, he reached and, holding the stone between his thumb and forefinger, he felt with his middle finger, and then set the stone into place for her. All that they heard was the other one's moans, though by then they'd stopped moving.

She looked into his eyes and smiled. "Such a gift to me and the faith," she said soundlessly in his mind.

"I can hear you," he thought to her, "and we do not pray with our hands."

"We no longer need to," she answered, "we are joined by the lock. As it was when it was in pieces in the cloth, it was the lock and the high priestess is the key. Once the main piece is placed, the priestess becomes the lock and the rest become the keys. What we have done has never been done, my great friend. I think that the gods know that it must be different this time. I am needed, but you are needed also, and this way, the lock of the faith is safe."

Minutes later, she was in the bed. "We are both weary after a day of days which began with my hatred," she said, "come to bed now, and I will do my best to please you for all the work that you have done to learn and to help me. I have found joy with you, but you have not spent your seed nor felt its release. I would begin it now between us, I think. Do not think of sleeping on the floor. I need little space and if I can hold you, there is room enough here for me."