CHAPTER 1
The Ancient Temple
The farmers heading to the market stopped their pack animals at the edge of the stone courtyard in front of the temple. The morning prayer had begun inside. Smoke from the incense burned by the priests drifted out through the open door, and the sound of bronze bowls could be heard from the surrounding streets. The farmers bowed their heads and waited. Then they urged their animals onward again. The soldiers coming behind them stopped at the same place; most of those passing in front of the courtyard turned toward the temple and said a short prayer before going about their business.
As the sun rose above the hills to the east, the walls of the fortress were illuminated, while some of the streets below remained in shadow. Smoke rose from the chimneys of mudbrick houses. Potters had opened their shops and begun arranging vessels in front of their doors. The sound of animals’ hooves heading toward the market mingled with the ringing of the blacksmiths’ anvils. Those arriving from the surrounding villages were trying to get their loads to the square before the city grew crowded.
The temple stood just south of the fortress. Those entering the courtyard could see the walls above when they raised their heads. The fortress commanded the city and the plain around it; the temple, meanwhile, was visited by farmers, merchants and travelers as well as soldiers. Some were content to stop in the courtyard, while others went inside to make offerings. Those about to set out on a journey stopped here before leaving the city.
After the morning prayer, the priests returned to their duties. Some of those passing through the courtyard headed toward the bazaar. Those waiting at the temple door went inside. When the sound of the bronze bowls ceased, the noises coming from the workshops in the nearby streets became more distinct.
Everyone knew that those who had settled in Ankuva had not built this temple themselves. When the elderly priests spoke of the building’s past, they told of an Anatolian people who had lived here before them. The name of that people had been forgotten. Nor was it known when they had built the temple. When the people of Ankuva arrived in the city, the building was already standing; according to the priests’ accounts, centuries had passed since its construction.
The walls bore traces of repairs made in different periods. Worn sections had been renewed, and the roof had been repaired. Each generation that took responsibility for maintaining the building had continued to use the temple left by those before them. The foundation stones, however, had remained untouched. When repairs were needed, work was carried out on the upper walls and the roof, while the foundations, considered sacred, were left as they were.
The people believed that the gods had chosen this hill long before their time. For this reason, the temple’s great age did not mean it was left neglected. The priests continued to hold ceremonies here, and the townspeople brought their offerings to the same place. Although most people did not know which generation had repaired which part of the walls, no one objected to preserving the foundations left by the building’s first owners.
The broad road passing in front of the temple stretched westward. After leaving the courtyard, the farmers had joined this road. Merchants’ shops, artisans’ workshops and stone houses lined both sides of the road, and pack animals waited in front of the grain storehouses. Those heading to the market and those preparing to leave the city used the same road. People emerging from narrow streets onto the main road had to stop at the side to make way for loaded animals.
Persian couriers arriving from the east also passed this way. Merchants bringing goods from Cappadocia, caravans traveling west and travelers from distant lands joined the same crowds within the city. Loads were unloaded in front of shops, while those continuing their journeys completed their preparations. As caravans passed, the space in front of the workshop entrances grew narrow, and shopkeepers pulled their goods a little farther inside.
After passing through the city, the main road ran between vineyards and fields to the natural crossing of the Ankara River. Farther on, there were small inns. Travelers and caravans stopped there to rest before continuing on their way. A significant part of Ankuva’s trade depended on this route. The bazaar did not serve only the needs of the city’s inhabitants; goods were also prepared for visitors from elsewhere to buy and take away.
The city’s rulers lived in large stone mansions near the fortress. The buildings where the priests carried out their duties were clustered around the temple. In the bazaar below, artisans and farmers had been at work since the early hours of the morning. Living under the rule of the Persian Empire, the people of Ankuva continued to observe their ancient rituals. The offerings made at the temple, the morning prayers and the care shown to the foundations considered sacred were part of daily life in the city.
As the sun climbed higher, the market square filled up. Children played in the square while farmers unloaded the goods they had brought. Stonecutters had begun their work. The priests attended to the offerings of those who came to the temple, while travelers and pack animals continued to pass along the main road. Most of those who had stopped in front of the courtyard that morning had now returned to their work in the bazaar.
No news of Alexander the Great’s approaching army had yet reached the city. In Ankuva, shops had opened, ceremonies had been held, and goods brought to the market had been put up for sale. The Macedonian army, meanwhile, continued its advance, drawing a little closer to the city with each passing day.
