I write a historical fantasy series inspired by a little-known Hittite queen. There are two titles thus far in the series, Priestess of Ishana and Sorcery in Alpara. “My” queen is still a very young woman in these books, but I intend to follow the main events of her long life for quite a few more books. She’s got me entirely hooked with a life full of international conspiracies, diplomatic crises, throne usurping, magical rites, family conflicts and royal love story.
History Plus Fantasy
This Hittite queen performed many rituals that we in the modern world call magic, from removing curses to restoring cosmic harmony, and all sorts of sorcerous acts in between. I have allowed her supernatural beliefs and powers full range in this series—hence the genre of historical fantasy. Also, the historical evidence for this period is so fragmentary that I must fill in a great deal via imagination, and I like the honesty of calling it “fantasy,” even though my world-building is historically accurate. In this spirit, I create fictional names for the places and people, often ones that echo the actual names.
Researching Hittites
Writing fiction set in the ancient civilization of the Hittites can pose some unusual research challenges. There’s the great distance into the past—the 13thcentury BCE. There are the enormous gaps in our knowledge because this empire was quite literally buried and forgotten—and has only gradually emerged from the ground. There’s the difficulty of interpreting the excavated clay tablets written in cuneiform that are the primary documents of these people.
Conquering all of that to bring this era back to life takes some determination. The tablets, once transliterated and translated (by others!), give me a deep-dive immersion into this exotic Bronze Age world. I love the bizarre rites, myths, letters, court procedures, religious festivals, and the military and international conflicts that the tablets reveal. The details I extract are a key sustenance of my storytelling.
But, for all that I depend on this informative reading, my favorite way of researching the Hittites is through travel.
Traveling into Time
Before I wrote Priestess of Ishana, I planned an extended trip through Turkey, the center of the Hittite Empire, with the excellent help of my Turkish archaeologist friend Sevil, who guides and translates for me. It was my second such trip. We visited the archaeological dig of Tatarli near Adana, in southern Turkey, that has been identified as, most likely, the city of Lawazantiya, hometown of Queen Puduhepa, whom I renamed Tesha in my fiction. (She was famous for visionary dreams and “tesha” is the Hittite word for dream.)
The director of the dig, Serdar Girginer, spent a day and a half with me, explaining the remains of the temple, upper and lower city, fortification walls, city gates, and the famous springs, so that I had a workable sense of this long-lost city. You’re lucky if the walls of a Bronze Age ruin stand as high as a meter. Literary “reconstruction” requires some serious leaps of informed imagination.
Everything about this essential visit was carefully scheduled in advance. But soon, a stroke of luck or fate would bring me to the next major location for my fiction.
Sevil took me northward along the route of the old Hittite road. We saw the rock carving of Puduhepa and her husband Hattusili (Hattu in my books) making offerings to the gods, an ancient billboard of sorts. The message this stone relief sent to ancient merchants and other travelers was this: “All is well and stable in our kingdom because we, the rulers, serve the gods in the proper way. Do business here without fear.” Being carved in stone does project that subliminal permanence and dependability. The reality of their rule was considerably less conflict-free!
We spent time examining museum collections as well as the archaeological sites throughout this central region. One museum director told me the story of excavating the clay imprint of Queen Puduhepa’s seal. I loved his excitement as he described the moment he realized what he held in his hand and brushed it clean. He gave me a line drawing of that seal impression to use as my website logo and stamp when I sign books.
A Chance Stay in Amasya
Sevil picked a stop in a small town called Amasya because it’s picturesque with Ottoman mansions built close along the banks of the Green River. Why not stay in such a lovely place as we journeyed to various Hittite sites? I guess serendipity loves beauty.
I knew that the second book in the series, Sorcery in Alpara, would take place in a very different setting than the Tatarli site. I’d chosen the capital of a beleaguered lesser kingdom within the overall Hittite Empire, which had been situated somewhere in the northeast of what is now Turkey. I knew, because the name is mentioned on surviving clay tablets found elsewhere, that the Hittite name of this city was Hakpis. But knowing a name and identifying the site where the city actually existed are two quite different things. I hadn’t planned on visiting this city because I had never read any research from an archaeological dig identified as Hakpis, so I thought it hadn’t been found.
Sometimes it’s great to be wrong.
Sevil decided the curator of Amasya’s small local museum might be an informative contact for me (she’s great that way). So we visited the museum first thing that morning, and while she went to see if the curator had time for us, I explored the tiny Bronze Age section of the exhibits. To my surprise, the signs identified nearby ruins as a probable location of Hakmis. In the world of Hittite transliteration, Hakpis and Hakmis are almost surely different ways of spelling the same name. My adrenalin got going. Was I standing in the very place I wanted to use as the setting for the second book?
Not quite, but I was close. I had to look way up first.
A City at the Top
The curator confirmed my suspicion about the names. Even better, his wife had participated in the excavation of the Bronze Age ruins, and he told us the details. They aren’t visible today—a medieval fortress covers them. But the archaeologists had done exploratory digs below the medieval layers.
We looked across the river, past some modern buildings, up at the mountaintop where Hakpis had once stood. The curator described the trace finds of eight rings of fortification walls and an upper city. All built onto an impossibly high and steep mountain over a gorgeous river valley. Wow! I had a dramatic setting for Sorcery in Alpara exactly where history said it should be.
Needless to say, we went exploring and photographing all over those mountain ruins. By the time we left, I had visions of a thriving city, but also a city built to withstand constant assault by enemies.
From Hakpis to Alpara
The view from the top is spectacular. I wanted a more attractive name for the beautiful ancient city I had “rebuilt” in my mind. How did I choose the name Alpara for this mountaintop aerie? I combined two Hittite words so that the name means roughly “friend of the clouds.” This regal-sounding name inspired the title for book two, Sorcery in Alpara.
Through my fiction, I hope you’ll get to know Tesha, forgotten queen of the Hittites.
Priestess of Ishana is FREE on Amazon October, 20-24, 2022
Judith Starkston, October 20, 2022
