Son of Ishtar by Gordon Doherty

Author:Gordon Doherty [Doherty, Gordon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: www.gordondoherty.co.uk
Published: 2019-06-12T16:00:00+00:00

***

That night, Hattu entered his bedchamber and felt lost in the well of silence within. No snoring, no scratching, no sudden gastric outbursts. Just the plump bed in the centre of the room and an old oak chest by the window, set out with a copper wash bowl and white linen towels. He moved over to the window which looked down upon the square of the acropolis’ upper ward. The wind had ebbed and the shutters lay open. He drew back the curtain hanging there and inhaled. The citadel grounds were inky-blue under the moonless night sky. A sharp, beaky poke to the wrist brought his attentions to the outer portion of the sill, and Arrow’s nest. She glared up at him.

‘Let me guess: food?’

Arrow cocked her head to one side, with a look Hattu read as outrage – for she already had a worm held captive on the sill.

‘Then what?’

Arrow screeched quietly, then stepped from her nest. Shards of speckled eggshell and the down of fledglings lay in the swirl of twigs. A moment later, a trio of shrieking young falcons flapped down to bother Arrow, and she took to tearing up the worm and giving each a piece.

Hattu stared for a moment and then laughed aloud. ‘So the mate you found was a good one?’

Arrow cocked her head one way then the other as if carefully evaluating her mate’s pros and cons.

He noticed the young falcons had a full plumage and were almost ready to leave the nest. ‘Tend to them well, girl. Keep them warm.’

Arrow waddled back to her nest and settled down, back turned to him, her attentions fully on her three worm-munching progenies.

Laughing at the typically abrupt snub, Hattu leaned back in, drew the curtain, closed the shutters then stepped over to the bed. He swept the pristine white linen sheets and grey woollen blankets back. A large copper flask full of hot water lay there, warming the bed. It was an odd sight after seventeen months on an uncovered mattress of hay. He didn’t even hear the barefooted slave boy scuttle in to take the flask away, bowing as he went. Hattu tried to thank the boy but this caused the slave to hurry away all the faster. Suddenly, being a prince again felt odd.

He slipped off his clothes and slid into bed. The soft comfort soothed his hardened limbs and should have cajoled any man to sleep, but his thoughts would not settle. For most of his early months at the Fields of Bronze, he had eagerly anticipated this return home. Now that he was here, he realised that part of him was impatient to return to the academy and the enjoyable balance of shared hardships and camaraderie that went with that life. He thought of Atiya, and this lured him into a half-slumber, until he remembered Lady Danuhepa’s words.

Would you want to forever look back and wonder?

This wrenched him awake. ‘I should go to her and tell her how I feel. Tomorrow, I will,’ he asserted, then rolled over to lie on his other side.

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