The Queen’s Sacrifice

The people of the city carried their apprehension with them to the top of the hill, along with their sharpened weapons. They were not puzzled by the presence of the enormous cauldron—every great temple had one—but they had never seen one built so high off the ground. Everyone pressed in closer for a better view and guessed at what was going to happen next. The notice from the Priestess said only that the Queen would present her “vision of the future.” Bitias worried that Elishat had decided to marry Iarbas and would use the gathering to announce her intention to do so. Barca doubted she would give herself up to marriage but had learned not to try to predict her actions. He was prepared to defend the hill in any case. Iarbas, who had been escorted from the Amazigh war camp, thought that Queen Dido had finally come around to seeing things his way. He imagined a surprise marriage ceremony and arrived in all his finery. His small entourage stood nearby, watched closely by the Queen’s guards. The Lieutenant was, for the moment, at least, nowhere to be seen.

No sooner had Amaal, Hannu, and Uru found one another at the top of the hill than the big drums thundered the crowd into silence. The Priestess came out of the half-built temple. Embroidered into the front of her robe was a new symbol: a figure composed of a circular head, a triangular body, and two horizontal lines forming outstretched arms. It was a shape not unlike that of the giantess that had appeared at the top of the hill to scare off the Amazigh warriors. The upturned horn moon above its head left no doubt: it was the goddess Tanit, patroness of Qart-hadasht. Two temple maidens, one carrying a day-old lamb in her arms and the other holding a firepan of hot coals, climbed the steps to the platform at the top. They stood at the lip of the cauldron and waited while two men pulled a handsome ram, its fur soaked in oil, up the stairs.

“They’re sacrificing a whole ram!” Hannu whispered. “But what for?”

One man restrained the animal while the other slit its neck with a knife and let the blood pour into a sacred bowl. They quickly did the same with the lamb. The men lifted the lifeless carcasses into the cauldron and stepped back. The maiden stepped forward and poured in the hot coals. The cauldron burst into flames that leapt so high into the air, it sucked the breath out of the crowd. The attendants rushed down the steps to save themselves from being singed.

Iarbas looked on in delight. Never before had he seen such a dramatic opening to a wedding ceremony. He was already thinking of how to incorporate the spectacle into the Amazigh tradition. His loins stirred in anticipation of taking Queen Dido back to his village as his bride.

A figure appeared at the top of the second platform. Her face was hidden by white make-up, her eyes encircled in dark kohl, her lips blood red. At first, the crowd took her for a goddess, but the royal robes edged in violet blue and the turquoise pendant centered on her breast told them it was their beloved queen. In her hand she held the ram’s head staff. Most surprisingly, she wore the golden crown not seen since Tyre. Its crescent horns flashed in the light of the inferno, giving the impression that it, too, was ablaze. The Queen stood so close to the roaring flame that some people called out for her to move away for fear her robes would catch fire.

Elishat lifted the ebony staff and pounded it three times on the platform. The crowd fell silent and gazed up at her, their North Star. She spoke loudly and clearly for all to hear.

“Today, we sacrifice an innocent lamb!

Today, we sacrifice a powerful ram!

But, hear me well, people of Qart-hadasht!

By the will of the gods,

We…shall…not…sacrifice…our…freedom!”

She slammed down the staff with each word then lifted it high into the air and turned to face the fire. The crowd gasped. No one was prepared for what happened next. To everyone’s horror, Elishat allowed herself to tip forward and drop into the cauldron. From one second to the next, she disappeared into the flames. The crowd froze in disbelief. Bitias, Barca and several others rushed toward the platform and tried to climb up the steps, but the flames were too high and too hot. They couldn’t get close enough to see, much less save her. Amaal, Uru, and Hannu stared at the raging fire, waiting for Elishat to somehow reappear. No one could believe what they were seeing. Someone let out the first scream, and the crowd fell into hysteria.

Iarbas looked like a man turned to stone. He could not understand what was going on. What ritual was this where the queen dies by her own hand, sending her loyal subjects screaming in horror and pulling at their robes in despair? By the time he regained his senses, his disbelief had turned to utter disgust. Without their queen, these people were nothing. They couldn’t survive a year without her. As far as he was concerned, they could have their hill and crawl all over it like frenzied ants. He would take their taxes, and if some of his people wanted to join the new city, so be it. He wanted nothing more to do with their madness. He thanked the sky god for delivering him from the catastrophe of bringing this woman into his home. He signaled his entourage and, amid the chaos, they marched down the long steps, mounted their horses, and rode off to their land beyond the southern plain without ever looking back.

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