<< Go Back

Wells and Wanderers - Amorites

By Christine Dillon

Order Now!

Kiriath Arba (Hebron), Canaan
About 1900 B.C.E.
Inanna could still hear her mother exhale with deep disappointment as she said for the umpteenth time, “It isn’t seemly for a girl.”
A great number of things weren’t seemly for girls. Running, whistling, being too noisy, ruffled clothing, a head covering that slipped. Mama sighed over her every day.
Inanna envied Utu, her twin brother. He was not bound by these restrictions. Utu’s life could have been one vast round of climbing trees and exploring, but he preferred to help with their father’s herds and talk to the older men. Inanna couldn’t understand why he wasted his freedom.
Mama repeatedly told her not to climb trees and play with the boys, which was exactly what Inanna most wanted to do. All she wanted was to be free. Free of the restrictions put on girls. Free of the restrictions she saw her mother and her friends laboring under. Free like the eagles she spent hours watching as they cruised in the skies far above their home.
“Utu, I think we got mixed up in the womb. I’d make a better boy and you’d make a better girl.”
“Perhaps.” He looked at her with that irritating way of his.
Sometimes she wanted to shake him. But not today. Today she wanted to climb the oak trees outside the town gates.
“Don’t go outside the gates,” he said. “You know Mama wanted you to help her with the washing, down at the river.”
Inanna rolled her eyes. “Washing isn’t how I want to spend the day.”
She ran toward the trees. As she ran, she heard Utu’s exasperated groan as he battled with whether to let her face their mother’s wrath alone or to keep her in his sight. After only the briefest pause, his footsteps pounded after her.
Reaching the bottom of her favorite tree, she looked back towards him. “Help me.”
“When are you ever going to accept who you are?” he muttered as he made a cradle with his hands.
“Maybe never,” she said, putting her bare foot in his hands and stretching for the lowest branch. Utu boosted her into the tree, and she scrambled up.
Utu shook his head at her, then shrugged and jumped for the lowest branch. She winked at him. No matter how many times he admonished her, he always followed her, never wanting to leave her on her own in case she got into worse trouble. Trouble was something she naturally seemed to land in, but Utu was always there for her. He said he had an internal warning system when she needed him.
Inanna climbed higher up in the tree, reveling in the rough bark underfoot and the way the sunlight danced on the leaves and dappled the ground below with shadows.
She’d just begun to imagine herself standing on the prow of a ship, something she’d never seen but planned to one day, when the frantic thumping of a drum pulsed through the air.
“Raiders!” Utu said, scrambling upright from the branch he’d been sitting on.
The women at the river were already running up the hill, having abandoned their baskets in their haste. They didn’t scream. They just ran. This was the fourth raid this year.
Utu almost fell in his haste to descend the tree.
“There’s no time, Utu.” Inanna’s words tumbled over each other. “We’ll have to stay here.”
Utu looked up at her, eyes wide. There were too many branches to negotiate below him, and a long sprint to the town gate.
The raiders would be on camels. Swift and silent. Able to get close before they were spotted by the watchmen on the city walls.
Inanna frantically looked around for the densest foliage of the tree and inched her way forwards, trying not to shake the branches and give away their position.
“Ammuru, protect us,” she whispered under her breath.
She found a branch she could straddle, which was more hidden than other parts of the tree. Then she bent over, trying to make herself as small and comfortable as possible. Who knew how long they’d have to be up here?
A wail rent the air. Through a chink in the branches, she saw the first in the line of raiders scoop up a child who’d not been able to keep up. Ammuru, curse them. These raiders were becoming a summer menace worse than locusts or famine.
The beating of the drum stopped abruptly, and the familiar creak of their town’s main gate being slammed shut cut off any other options. By now, Mama would be scouring the frantic crowd inside the gate, wondering if she and Utu had gone out. Not knowing if they’d made it back inside the safety of the city walls.
Inanna squeezed her eyes shut. If they got out of this, she’d stick closer to home. At least, until she grew tired of the restrictions and had to stretch her wings again.
A rough voice yelled something to the raiders, and two of them came towards their grove of trees. The men didn’t bother to keep quiet.
The crunch of leaves and twigs came nearer and nearer. Inanna concentrated on breathing silent, shallow breaths. Don’t move a muscle.
The pungent smell of camel filled her nostrils, but she didn’t open her eyes even a crack. If she couldn’t see him, perhaps he wouldn’t notice her.
A camel let out a waterfall of urine. The raiders were close. Too close. With a loud belch, the camel moved on, and Inanna released a shaky breath.
They were safe. The raiders were moving off and leaving a tense silence behind them.
Achoo.
Utu’s sneeze erupted into the newly quiet glade and determined their future.
The raider turned around with a curse and soon came to glare up at them. “You up there,” he said in a heavy accent. “Come down, and it will be easier for you.”
Inanna never was one to make things easy.

Order Now!

<< Go Back