Samsu stood. 'Thus die all those who threaten Babylon, her king, or his family,' he said, turning and making his way painfully down the steps of the dais.

Left alone up there, Eliana suddenly could not bear the sight of the corpse or the smell of blood – her stomach turned and she felt ill, but she could not – must not – show any sign of weakness on a stage before all the court.

She rose gracefully and descended the steps after Samsu, then walked away in the opposite direction, heading for a favourite path that followed the entire perimeter of the palace walls.

By the time she had walked a complete circuit, she felt calm and at peace, confident that she had made the right decision and seen justice done not just for herself, but for Mari, the people of Nippur, and everyone else he had wronged.

There was an ominous silence as she entered her apartments. They were usually a hive of activity, with servants and messengers coming and going at all hours. Now, they were deserted.

A bolt of pure panic shot through her and she ran to the nursery door. It stood ajar.

Mari and Tabi were nowhere to be seen, but there, in the middle of the room, Samsu stood examining her daughter.

He had Nisala stood on a bench before him, to raise her up to his eyeline. Scrutinising her from every angle, he pinched at her face and arms, poked at her waist, tugged at her hair. The girl had her eyes squeezed tight shut, clutching her doll, tears running down her face. Against the far wall, Sarri and Kisuri huddled together.

Eliana had to restrain herself from running over there and snatching her daughter from the bench, away from his probing hands.

She forced herself to speak calmly, 'Is everything alright, sir?'

Samsu turned blazing eyes on her, 'She is mine, I suppose?'

Keeping her face mild and impassive, she said 'Of course. I belong to you, and you alone, as does Nisala.'

'I wonder,' he sneered. 'You started your career as a whore – the Great Whore of Babylon, the people called you – who in their right mind would expect fidelity from a whore?'

She felt her anger rising dangerously, but maintained an even tone, 'Your unwilling whore, sir. I was never loose or light with my morals.'

Grabbing Nisala's chin, he twisted her head, forcing her face towards the window. 'She doesn't look like me,' he snarled suspiciously.

'Children do not always take after their fathers,' she shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant.

'The traitor said she and Eshu could be Ashan's. In certain lights, I see it.'

'I do not,' she replied, the lie coming easily, forcing down the rising terror. 'There is no reason that they should look like Ashan. You heed the words of a known traitor over your most trusted commander?'

'He was one of my most trusted commanders, until he was proven a traitor,' shouted Samsu. 'Who's to say if any of these little harlots are mine?! Marduk alone knows.' He gave Nisala a violent shove, sending her stumbling backwards off the bench. She hit her head on the floor as she fell, lay stunned for a moment, then began to cry loudly in pain and fear.

Eliana went running to her daughter, dropped to her knees and gathered her up in a hug. She pressed her fingers lightly over the sore spot – there was a lump forming, but no blood. There seemed to be no lasting harm. She rocked Nisala gently, arms wrapped protectively around her, shushing her as they knelt at Samsu's feet.

'You are a whore!' he bellowed. 'Once a whore, always a whore! I was a fool to make you my queen, to acknowledge children you cannot prove are mine!'

'You cannot prove they are not yours!' she retorted, regretting it instantly as he swept his walking stick across a nearby table, bringing its contents crashing down around her.

'May Marduk strike you down if they are not!'

He picked up a little porcelain vase and hurled it across the room – it hit the wall above Sarri and Kisuri and shattered, raining shards down on their heads. The girls pulled tighter together, Sarri trying to block her fragile little sister from the worst of it.

Eliana seized the opportunity; she scrambled up and ran to them, dragging Nisala with her. She pushed her daughter in with her nieces, and stood with her body as a shield between them and Samsu as he ranted incoherently, spraying spittle everywhere, his face turning purple with fury as he smashed the room to pieces.

Behind her, the girls wept and trembled – they had always been afraid of their father's coldness and sharp tongue, but they had never seen him in a blind rage before. Eliana held her arm behind her, and three small pairs of hands seized it, seeking comfort.

She did not think he would kill them – in her experience, his killing was a result of cold calculation; when he was in a frenzy, his instinct was to hurt people. She prayed that he would not assault her – not here, not in front of the girls. She did not want them to have to see it. He would do it, she was sure, but the pain in his leg sometimes prevented him from becoming aroused now, which only added to his anger and frustration.

'Whore!' he shouted again. 'You may masquerade as a queen, but you're a whore! The people should see you for what you really are – I'll punish you, I'll make them see. They must see, before you meet your downfall.'

The words struck fear into her belly, 'My downfall, sir?'

'Aha! Now I have your attention! Marduk has shown me a vision of you – a beast with seven heads and ten horns, that's your downfall!'

He was raving like a madman. She could not think what she might say that would calm him – his every word, every action was unpredictable.

Asag appeared, returning his own son and Eshu to the nursery after their daily combat training. He stopped in the doorway; his jaw dropped in frank astonishment to see his cold and calculating king throwing a child-like tantrum, ranting like a lunatic.

At first, Eshu did not seem to know what to make of the situation, but one look at his terrified mother and weeping sisters told him what was going on. He went to the king, put a hand on his arm. 'Father, we have been studying great victories today, and our tutor said we might benefit from hearing about your glorious conquest of Nippur. If you have time, would you mind telling us the story?'

Samsu stared down at the young prince as though a cushion had suddenly started talking to him – he had not even seen him come in. Then, slowly, reality began to work its way back into his clouded mind, and recognition dawned on his face. 'My son – yes, of course. Go, wait for me in my office with Ahat – I will show you the maps. Tell you all about it.'

With a last anxious look at his mother, he left with Asag's son.

Taking a couple of limping steps towards Eliana and his daughters, Samsu hissed, 'Don't think I've forgotten – I will show the people what a whore you are. Put you and the little harlots on public display.'

The hatred in his eyes took her by surprise – he had looked at her in many ways before, but never with hatred.

Asag left with his king, hurrying him away without seeming to do so. As they departed, Eliana thanked Enlil, Marduk, and every other god she could call to mind for her son's quick-thinking – appealing to Samsu's ego to lure him away. The boy may only be nine years old, but he was already a skilled reader of people.

**

When Samsu decided on her 'punishment', she accepted it with stoicism and dignity. The three girls were to be included – it was a good lesson to teach them, she supposed, that what could not be changed must be endured with as much grace as possible.

It was made easier by the idea that had taken root in her mind just before Eshu's disappearance. The king had run mad – he was dangerous, was incapable of ruling effectively. The notion that he had to die grew ever-stronger in her mind – it was the light that sustained her through her darkest moments. All she awaited was an opportunity.

With Ashan back and the Brute no longer a threat, she could feel confident that Eshu's succession was assured. All she needed now was to know whether Ashan was with her, for the sake of their children, or whether his love for her was truly dead and buried, and he would side with his mother. Even if Ashan did the unthinkable and took the throne for himself, Eshu was still his first-born son, his heir.

What would happen to Eliana and the girls remained to be seen.

But for now, Samsu sought to humiliate them. He had Eliana dressed in purple and scarlet, decked with gold, pearls and precious stones from her hair to her ankles. The three girls were dressed in miniature copies of her outfit.

They were sat upon donkeys, and had tablets hung about their necks. Eliana's read The Great Whore of Babylon, mother of harlots. Sarri's, Kisuri's and Nisala's all simply read Harlot.

A golden cup was forced into Eliana's hands before they set off, full of blood, offal and things so vile that she did not want to think about what they might be. The stench was appalling, and she tried to breathe through her mouth to avoid retching at the smell.

They set off on procession through the streets of Babylon, preceded by a herald with a bronze gong – he gave her an apologetic look as he beat it, calling the citizens out of their houses to see her pass: 'Here comes the great whore!' he cried, looking embarrassed. 'The woman who has committed fornication with kings, and seduced the people with the wine of her misdeeds. She is drunken on the blood of martyrs, and has brought forth abominations and harlots. The beast with seven heads and ten horns shall be her downfall.'

The people exchanged quizzical looks and muttered uneasily as she passed. They were not concerned about whether their queen was or had been a whore, or whether their princesses were to be named harlots. What worried them, what affected them, was wondering what had possessed their king to order such a spectacle, to present them with such nonsensical ramblings.

Sarri was almost weeping with the degradation when they returned to the palace. She was of an age where her appearance and reputation were beginning to matter a great deal to her, and her father had swept it all away in a heartbeat. If she knew that he planned to snuff out her life in sacrifice to his god, she would weep a great deal more.

Kisuri and Nisala, being a couple of years younger, took it all very much in their stride. They were mortified by the abasement, but knew that tears would change nothing.

As Eliana shepherded the girls back to the nursery after the trial, she made up her mind that she must speak to Ashan alone, breaking the vow that she had made so many years ago. It could not be avoided – they had much to discuss.