“It opens with a date. The first of Nabräkama, the first of Kobukama, the first year of Melisākacän Kobu Nejiteheki-Pēzjiceni, the seventh of Kobu Kadjänjetsorhu-Kenilēdji. The new year lines up with the new month of KobuThonu. As auspicious a date as could be.”

The professor stands before the giant stele, carved with glyphs and images of the triumphs of Narhetsikobon. The writing is faded, and so are the images. But the stele is huge, imposing: hewed of pink granite, it dominates the room—just as it must have dominated the festival grounds of Narhetsikobon.

“After the date, comes a brief account of the founding of Narhetsikobon: of the exile of KobuThonu from the Island of Paradise and how Falcon landed upon an oak after showing KobuThonu the way to land. The stele emphasizes how Falcon was guided by a path, kacä in Kemithatsan, of course, and how the path took the boats of KobuThonu to safety. The verse here is quite compelling, and the images of rowed canoes and Falcon landing are some of the earliest examples of Tritonean Profile art in monolithic construction.”

The professor takes a drink of water.

“Next the stele tells of a world which is guideless, which has—quite literally—strayed from the path. It then depicts scenes of supposed disorder, gesturing towards the untamed lands, the north shore of Tsukōdju, and naming Boturomenji as a city in disarray. The images here include famished persons looking straight on, almost half-skeletal. They are among the most striking on the stele.

“What follows is a straightforward list of conquests by Kobu Nejiteheki-Pēzjiceni. It names villages brought into the fold, tehibemi raised, and temples built. While we do not know the locations of many of these villages, this period of the stele tells of expansion principally to the north and east. The imagery here is of goose-fish monsters, a demon in traditional Kemithātsan folk-religion, being driven off by legions. Further on, it depicts Nejiteheki, the much larger figure, and his elite guard of bowmen shooting the demons as they flee. Below, we see temples and tehibemi raised within now fruitful land.

“It is worthwhile to take a brief excursion and discus the elite guard. The military of Narhetsikobon was primarily composed of men on their kacätsadräma—their twelve-year commitment to a fictive clan—who would then retire to a farm or herd in newly conquered territory or as a craftsperson beside a tehibemi dependant on their wife’s profession, while remaining ‘in reserve’ and expected to keep peace and protect their community in times of strife. However, an elite core, possibly 144, possibly more, stayed on with the kacätahamä—the soldier fictive clan—and served as the bow-guard of the Melisākacän. The bow-guard is distinct from those who completed their kacätsadräma with kacätahamä and then married into KobuThonu—serving as commanders for their lives, or those who married elsewise but were appointed to leadership in a tehibemi. The bow-guard did not marry and served for life. They resided within the Temple of the Soldier complex. It does seem as though the majority of the bow-guard were younger sons of KobuThonu. I digress.

“The verse here is quite interesting: Kobutson sonurapān Boturomenjite djanatsän. Kobutson—the metaphorical representation of the city of Narhetsikobon, far-seeing—wise, judges—with connotations of religious law, Boturomenji. Next, Rapātsän Boturomenjite, djalädopomu. The subject is dropped but it is still clear from the class marker that Kobutson sees Boturomenji, Boturomenji walks-wrong—acts in discord with the path. Njireni kacäta drozjomu. Children, referring to the people of Boturomenji, beg for the path. Kacäta Kobutsonku njirenitse mahatsän. The path is given to the children by Kobutson.

“Elsewhere in the stele, it names the Melisākacän as the agent—most verbs are marked with -kV. In fact, it’s something of a trend in these stele to drop the subject and thus render the text more as “he did this,” “he conquered that.” The repeated invocation of Kobutson here seems to be a direct homage to the founding myth of Narhetsikobon and the fraught history between the two cities.

“The other explanation is that because it is spiritual, religious health being granted to Boturomenji through the conquest. It thus has to be visited upon the city by a component of the kacä, rather than an agent. Further, the incorporation of Kobutson into the stele equates the Melisākacän with the embodiment of the city’s spiritual health.

“This portion of the stele is also in some senses the focal point. While they’re sadly lost to us now, two winged bulls stood facing the stele, and their horns and heads met the stele at this point, each topped with a crescent moon. The imagery beside the inscription here is also simply two rivers: one barren, sick, the other lush and plentiful.

“Monumental architecture is rarely subtle.”

She gets a small laugh at that, at least it's something.

“It then returns to the more straightforward, typical account of battles and victories. Though now the bow-guard is accompanied by winged-bison when they appear, and the legions bear crescent moons upon their heads.

“It names a date now, on the Autumn Equinox—the eighth year of Melisākacän Kobu Nejiteheki-Pēzjiceni, the first of Kobu Sēzjitanarhä-Senisedjarha—a new Temple of the Path was erected in Boturomenji. The art beside it depicts a tower rising out of the lake and capturing the light, almost. It’s quite evocative. But archeological evidence shows that this ‘new temple’ was really just a new tower on the old Temple of the Path. The major change, rather, was the massive expansion of the Temple of the Soldier into a full military complex which dwarfs the palaces of the city. It’s hard to overstate the scale of it—and I highly recommend you go to the archeological site: the tilework is stunning. The stele makes no mention of that, however.

“Rather, what follows is an account of the soldiers receiving blessings in Boturomenji—see the legions on their knees before the falcon.

“The next section of text switches meter to that used in the founding myth of Narhetsikobon. It speaks of paradise regained when paths are rejoined. It’s sadly damaged somewhat in this part, so the whole of the stele is not legible.

“It ends with a list of names: every Melisā of the conquests, those who commanded the armies of Narhetsikobon, the mothers of Narhetsikobon, as well as the mothers empowered in the conquered territories. This last bit is of vital importance in highlighting how Narhetsikobon’s empire was structured. It was not outright imperial control, even if tehibemi were built and housed troops from Narhetsikobon. Rather, cities maintained autonomy beneath their mothers. In fact, we have twelve named cities subordinate to Narhetsikobon included on the stele. Each city had its own council of mothers who ruled there, even if they were advised by kacätasäla and had garrisons of kacätahamä. We also know that the children of the elite from these cities were typically kept in Narhetsikobon during their kacätsadräma: both to make them develop allegiance to the city, and to serve as a bargaining chip.

“Before we turn to the reverse of the stele, it’s worthwhile to consider a different account. A song called, ‘The Song of Mourning’ which linguistically seems to date back to the period of Narhetsikobon’s conquests, though the first written records of it are hundreds of years later.

“Sung by a mother, it tells how these wars were felt by those who actually fought them. I’ll recite a shortened version, a summary referencing the full song used to presage passages in later exigetical work:

“Kacäta djunolonu, noduto zjopudrozjobru njorhonu. I have followed the path, done what a mother must, what is asked of a mother

“Dimelike kacätahamäta kacätsadrämakä, kacätsantsä. Three sons committed to war for honour/grace/piety.

“Sēdjejinte dimelitse njätamanä. Be healthy, she told her sons.

“Njädāzjäka nodunbamotu djädjanabrä, tsänatsanä. Ashes returned to a mother’s house, now she is alone.

“So students, as you look upon this stele, try to look with a double vision: see both the skill of the craft which went into making it, how it speak to the capacities of the state and its conquests, but also see the homes broken by war. The thousands who died unnecessarily for the honour of a city. It is easy to forget the humanity of those in the distant past when all that remains is stone.

“Now the rear of the stele…

The conquests of Narhetsikobon