Ishtar's Blade
Chapter One
Dawn’s light caressed the mountain peaks of Nineveh and shimmered upon the reef-strewn waters surrounding New Sumer’s greatest city-state. The ocean, still restless from the previous night’s storm, tossed white capped waves toward the vast island’s rocky cliffs and rocked the small skiff Iltani rode in.
The snap of the sail, the sound of the waves slapping the small boat’s sides, and the stomach-dropping dips and rises of the bow all added to the excitement churning in her blood.
Iltani hardly dared to believe.
She was returning home for the first time after four long years of brutal, continuous training.
In truth, she’d dedicated her entire life to her training, but four years ago, she’d taken the final steps down that path, when Burrukan, the Leader of the King’s Shadows had taken her on as his apprentice.
Now, almost four years to the day, Burrukan was returning her to her childhood home, Nineveh, the ruling seat of the Gryphon King. She’d left her island home a girl of seventeen and was returning a woman of twenty-one summers. While she couldn’t guess if she could be considered wiser, she was greatly changed.
Four years was a long time. She sincerely hoped King Ditanu would be pleased with her progress and be happy to have her back at his side.
If he isn’t? The small doubtful voice of her consciousness questioned.
Her mind shied away from that thought.
She supposed she’d find out later this day.
Not wanting to think more on the dark possibility of an indifferent king or worse, she turned from the sight of her childhood home and glanced back at her mentor where he worked the boat’s rudder, guiding them safely past a reef. The wind shifted and two of the ropes tangled. With a grumble about needing to replace the fraying rope, Burrukan tied the rudder to maintain course. That done, he stepped over the bench Iltani sat on and started to work on the sail’s tangled rigging.
She knew better than to offer her help. No one touched Burrukan’s boat. He’d designed and built the swift little boat during the first year of her training, saying he wanted to shave time off the twice daily trips between the training island and Nineveh.
When she’d asked why he didn’t just shift into gryphon form and fly, he’d rolled his eyes and said if he did that day after day, he’d be in no condition to beat her into shape and make a proper warrior out of her. Then he’d told her one of a Shadow’s greatest strengths was their ability to remain silent, saying people with loose lips gave far too much away to their enemies. She’d frowned and he’d given her a fatherly pat on one shoulder and told her to go run a circuit around the island. She’d quickly learned not to question him about unimportant things.
It was probably for the best she didn’t possess a set of wings. If she had, she’d have been tempted to fly back to Nineveh in the early days of her training when her yearning to hear the sound of Ditanu’s voice, catch a whiff of his sandalwood and spice scent, or see the hint of a smile hovering on his lips grew too much to bear.
Sighing, she pushed away her internal musings and watched Burrukan work. That the ropes were in less than perfect condition could only mean the king had kept him busier than usual of late.
Iltani worried at her bottom lip as she stared at Burrukan’s back. Today, the questions circling her mind were far from unimportant or frivolous. Dare she ask him what to expect? All she knew was that her mentor planned to present her to King Ditanu this day so he could perform the blooding ceremony, thereby honoring the ancient pact between gryphons and humans.
To most citizens of New Sumer, Iltani was just a human woman training to become one of the King’s Shadows—a group of elite gryphon and human warriors who served and protected the king from all danger. She would have been content with that lot in life, but the goddess Ishtar had chosen Iltani for another role, that of her avenging blade. Only a select few people knew Iltani was Ishtar’s Blade, the embodiment of the eight-thousand-year-old pact between the Queen of the Night and the line of the gryphon kings.
Iltani had spent the last four years preparing to become a living weapon forged by the Goddess Ishtar herself. One of flesh and blood and magic, but a weapon none the less.
At least, that’s what Burrukan and High Priestess Kammani had drilled into Iltani from a young age.
Years upon frustrating years, Iltani had waited for Ishtar to rouse her magic. Even with Burrukan’s reassuring words, she would have given up hope long ago had it not been for the deep indigo and gold birthmark marching down her spine, growing each year, and declaring that she was Ishtar’s chosen weapon.
Her apathetic magic had finally roused for the first time this morning. Long before dawn, she’d jerked awake from a dream to find the mark throbbing with heat. After a good deal of twisting and turning, she’d gotten a look at it in her small handheld mirror. The mark had glittered with a soft gold and indigo power.
Dawn’s light caressed the mountain peaks of Nineveh and shimmered upon the reef-strewn waters surrounding New Sumer’s greatest city-state. The ocean, still restless from the previous night’s storm, tossed white capped waves toward the vast island’s rocky cliffs and rocked the small skiff Iltani rode in.
The snap of the sail, the sound of the waves slapping the small boat’s sides, and the stomach-dropping dips and rises of the bow all added to the excitement churning in her blood.
Iltani hardly dared to believe.
She was returning home for the first time after four long years of brutal, continuous training.
In truth, she’d dedicated her entire life to her training, but four years ago, she’d taken the final steps down that path, when Burrukan, the Leader of the King’s Shadows had taken her on as his apprentice.
Now, almost four years to the day, Burrukan was returning her to her childhood home, Nineveh, the ruling seat of the Gryphon King. She’d left her island home a girl of seventeen and was returning a woman of twenty-one summers. While she couldn’t guess if she could be considered wiser, she was greatly changed.
Four years was a long time. She sincerely hoped King Ditanu would be pleased with her progress and be happy to have her back at his side.
If he isn’t? The small doubtful voice of her consciousness questioned.
Her mind shied away from that thought.
She supposed she’d find out later this day.
Not wanting to think more on the dark possibility of an indifferent king or worse, she turned from the sight of her childhood home and glanced back at her mentor where he worked the boat’s rudder, guiding them safely past a reef. The wind shifted and two of the ropes tangled. With a grumble about needing to replace the fraying rope, Burrukan tied the rudder to maintain course. That done, he stepped over the bench Iltani sat on and started to work on the sail’s tangled rigging.
She knew better than to offer her help. No one touched Burrukan’s boat. He’d designed and built the swift little boat during the first year of her training, saying he wanted to shave time off the twice daily trips between the training island and Nineveh.
When she’d asked why he didn’t just shift into gryphon form and fly, he’d rolled his eyes and said if he did that day after day, he’d be in no condition to beat her into shape and make a proper warrior out of her. Then he’d told her one of a Shadow’s greatest strengths was their ability to remain silent, saying people with loose lips gave far too much away to their enemies. She’d frowned and he’d given her a fatherly pat on one shoulder and told her to go run a circuit around the island. She’d quickly learned not to question him about unimportant things.
It was probably for the best she didn’t possess a set of wings. If she had, she’d have been tempted to fly back to Nineveh in the early days of her training when her yearning to hear the sound of Ditanu’s voice, catch a whiff of his sandalwood and spice scent, or see the hint of a smile hovering on his lips grew too much to bear.
Sighing, she pushed away her internal musings and watched Burrukan work. That the ropes were in less than perfect condition could only mean the king had kept him busier than usual of late.
Iltani worried at her bottom lip as she stared at Burrukan’s back. Today, the questions circling her mind were far from unimportant or frivolous. Dare she ask him what to expect? All she knew was that her mentor planned to present her to King Ditanu this day so he could perform the blooding ceremony, thereby honoring the ancient pact between gryphons and humans.
To most citizens of New Sumer, Iltani was just a human woman training to become one of the King’s Shadows—a group of elite gryphon and human warriors who served and protected the king from all danger. She would have been content with that lot in life, but the goddess Ishtar had chosen Iltani for another role, that of her avenging blade. Only a select few people knew Iltani was Ishtar’s Blade, the embodiment of the eight-thousand-year-old pact between the Queen of the Night and the line of the gryphon kings.
Iltani had spent the last four years preparing to become a living weapon forged by the Goddess Ishtar herself. One of flesh and blood and magic, but a weapon none the less.
At least, that’s what Burrukan and High Priestess Kammani had drilled into Iltani from a young age.
Years upon frustrating years, Iltani had waited for Ishtar to rouse her magic. Even with Burrukan’s reassuring words, she would have given up hope long ago had it not been for the deep indigo and gold birthmark marching down her spine, growing each year, and declaring that she was Ishtar’s chosen weapon.
Her apathetic magic had finally roused for the first time this morning. Long before dawn, she’d jerked awake from a dream to find the mark throbbing with heat. After a good deal of twisting and turning, she’d gotten a look at it in her small handheld mirror. The mark had glittered with a soft gold and indigo power.