**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.
-----------------------------------------------
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."
