CHAPTER ELEVEN #2
“Is your part in The Epic located in the cuneiform we haven’t yet discovered?” Lord Peterson asks almost at the same time.
“Cuneiform?” Alad rakes his gaze back to the viscount, ignoring Sir Gilead.
“The written language of your people. Here.” The floppy-haired lord searches in his jacket’s pocket before withdrawing a folded piece of paper. He holds it up to Alad, who examines it.
“Hmm. This writing might be a subsequent form of our scribes’ etchings.
This symbol, for example.” He taps his claw on one of the signs.
“Se. I believe you call the grain barley. In my time, the character pointed upward. It lies upon its side here, but the essence is the same. And the reclining pyramid shape might be ninda. Bread.”
“Which means you can read The Epic.” Lord Peterson’s voice rises with excitement.
“With time. Possibly with magick, though at this moment, I prefer to focus upon English.”
Sir Gilead nods. “I would be grateful for a consultation, Lord Alad. We have many tablets found at Nineveh. At your leisure, of course.”
Alad nods again but doesn’t commit himself to the task. Unless I’m mistaken, he doesn’t appear to like Sir Gilead, though I can’t imagine why. The baronet has been polite.
Mary leans forward. “We’re all anxious to hear your story, Lord Alad. You’re something of a miracle, you see.” She sends him her patented smile, the one capable of lighting a night sky.
Jealousy rises fast and furious within me. It’s so untenable, I push it away.
“My story isn’t very interesting, Lady Mary.
I’m your average demigod, cursed into stone by my best friend, my king, because I insulted him.
Gilgamesh,” he clarifies, looking to Lord Peterson.
“As for me, I was born to Hyram, a simple, unlearned human shepherd possessed of reason and restraint. He charmed Lama, the Goddess of Celestial Zodiac, Mediation, Harmony, and Unity. At my birth, the gods decried I was born to protect Uruk and its throne. Its people. Its king.”
“In what year were you born?” Lord Peterson interrupts.
Alad shrugs. The ripples wave down his furred hide. “As you count them? I don’t know, but it was during the ten-year celebration of King Lugalbanda.”
“Do you mind?” Sir Gilead removes a small leather book from his pocket. Attached to it is a pencil on a ribbon. He turns it open and begins to write upon a blank page.
Alad purses his lips. “I would prefer you not to disseminate my tale until I give you leave.”
Sir Gilead opens his mouth to argue. Lord Peterson elbows him. “You have our word.”
Alad nods. “To continue then, Lugalbanda reigned over nearly 80,000 souls. When he died, Gilgamesh, his son through Ninsun, the Goddess of Wild Cows and daughter of the Sky God, Anu, took his father’s throne.
Gil and I were raised as brothers. We were brothers—in all but blood—and the best of friends.
But then…” He pauses. There’s a world of story in the few seconds he doesn’t speak, a story I can’t begin to comprehend.
“We argued over a whore. Excuse the terminology.”
Everyone in the room other than me had gasped in outrage at the use of the word within a proper Society drawing room.
Lord Peterson retrieves himself first. “And the curse? Why did you awaken now?”
Please don’t say it. Please don’t say it. Please don’t say it. I wrap my hands together and squeeze them tight, trying to beg him with the force of my mind rather than words.
Alad must note my tension because he only shrugs. “I must find Gil to understand the curse and its terms.”
Relief makes me weak, but no sooner do I relax than I find Mary studying me. Of course. She saw me stroke Alad’s member at the museum. She must realize I had a part in his awakening. After all, I’m the one he took with him when he flew off.
As if reading my thoughts, Sir Gilead asks, “And Miss Butters? Why did you fly off with her?”
“Ah. Well, at first blush, I thought her Karu, a—a member of the court. The familiarity drew me, though upon closer inspection, I quickly realized they’re not identical.
” Alad sends me another soft smile. “I suspect Miss Butters must be of the same lineage as Karu, who was taken as a slave from a land to the west filled with druid priests, as yours was. Perhaps she had a child before she was taken.”
“Do you truly believe I had an ancestor in your court?” The idea appeals to me. Even if she was a slave, it’s a link joining him to me.
His attention centers back upon me. “Two explanations for the similarity of your features exist: a familial connection or reincarnation. I would need to consult my mother and allow her to read your horoscope to know for certain.”
“A slave, though?” Sir Gilead turns up his nose. “Hardly illustrious forebears you’d wish to claim, or…” He waves his hand, sniffing. “Whatever you might call a previous life.”
“I was quite fond of Karu,” Alad says, a growl in his words.
“She was strong, bright, and beautiful.” Alad offers me a small smile before returning his attention to Lord Peterson.
“I must find Gil. Without knowing the exact terms of the curse, I can’t know when I will be returned to stone.
Miss Butters suggested I find a Sir Austen. ”
“Sir Austen Henry Layard? Capital idea, Miss Butters.” The viscount sends me an approving glance.
“Even though—I’m sorry, Lord Alad—but how will Sir Austen help when everyone from your time must already have passed from this earth?” Mary, ever sympathetic, wrings her hands.
Alad offers her a small smile this time, creasing me with all shades of green. “Immortality is only cured by a god’s wrath, and no god would strike down Anu’s grandson.”
“You sound as if you love him,” Mary says. “But how, when he cured you of your immortality for ages? Did no one stand for you?” Mary asks.
“I suppose I’m learning that love doesn’t end with betrayal. At least, I hope not.” This time, Alad looks directly at me. “If I can’t find Gil, I’ll find my mother. I’ve no wish to go back to stone, not now when life suddenly possesses so much potential. And joy.”
Is it too much to hope he speaks of me?