Our hero from Ugarit, Baal, got a palace of his own and thought that all would be well with the world. But his troubles were not over just yet.
Baal threw a banquet to celebrate his new home and invited all the gods. All except Mot, the God of Death. And not without reason — Mot, if he were to come, would have eaten alive all the guests and possibly the host too, for he was one who revelled in human, or in this case divine, flesh.
After the festivities ended Baal summoned Kothar-wa-hasis, the master craftsman. “You asked me while building this palace about a window, remember? I think I need one now.”
“Why, I asked you twice then and you refused! But it is a splendid idea. I’ll get to work right away,” said Kothar-wa-hasis. He made him a window and a partition in the clouds so that Baal could see the world below.
Baal opened his window and announced that he was the lord of all. As his powerful voice reverberated, Mot heard him from his dark recesses. His dark brow further darkened in
anger.
“Baaal!’’ he shouted. “Dare you be the best of us? You who never even called me to your banquet of celebration? Come down here, I challenge you!”
This worried Baal. So he sent two of his messengers, Gupanu and Ugaru, down to invite Mot for a feast. “I know he will not be happy with cattle and sheep. Given a choice he’d rather eat us all... which is why I didn’t invite him in the first place,’’ he told them.
He knew that anything could happen and filled his storehouses with snow and lightning. He instructed them to go down to the place where two mountains Targhuzaz and Sharrumag stood, marking the entrance to the Netherworld. “Move them aside with your bare hands and make your way to his city of Humaryu. The throne he sits on is a pit and his land is full of filth. Bow down low and pay your respects. But beware, do not get too close for he may eat you!’’
The messengers presented themselves before the dreaded Mot and invited him for a feast. Mot was enraged. “He wishes to call me now! But did not think it fit to invite me when he called the rest of his brothers and family! Of course, I’m very, very hungry and want to eat him up in just two gulps!”
When Gupanu and Ugaru returned with the threat, Baal knew that he had no choice but to go himself. “Be horrified, but go!” implored Shapshu, the Sun goddess. She had some wise advice to give. “Wear robes of white and take with you your storm clouds, your thunderbolt, your wind, rain, dew and mist. Remember to take some cattle so that he can feast on them… ” Shapshu paused; “maybe someone else, a twin should take your place...”
Baal descended with his retinue but on the mountain slope, he swapped places with a look alike he created — a splitting image of himself. So it was the twin who was devoured by Mot, the bloodthirsty and the livid.
Two of Father El’s messengers discovered Baal’s slain body on the hill and returned to Mount Saphon with the news of his demise. El appeared surprisingly saddened, Anat noted. “The rain has ceased and drought has set in,” he said desolately.
Anat went in search of her brother’s body and found it by the hill. She returned to Saphon with it and gave him a burial fit for a god. “With Baal gone, you can choose the next successor to sit on that throne,” she said weeping, to Father El. “Athirat can choose her favourite son now.” Anat was bitter for she knew the trouble Baal and she had to go through to win the mother goddess’ favour.
Athirat looked at her husband and asked, “Shouldn’t it be one who can moisten the parched lands? Athtar, the rich it is then... ” But when Athtar, the god of irrigation attempted to sit on the throne, his legs didn’t touch the foot stool and his head did not reach to the top. Poor Athtar shook his head in humiliation. “This is not for me,” he said and went down to earth so that people might water their lands.
Once more Anat made her way down and this time, all the way to Humaryu. Fearless warrior goddess that she was, she seized Mot by his garment, knifed him, burnt him, ground him with a millstone and sowed the remains in the fields.
Many years passed and father El had a dream. “In my dream, it rains and the rivers are honey filled and all’s well again. Is Baal alive?” he asked Anat. Anat asked Shapshu, the sun goddess, to look for Baal. In the seventh year, miraculously, Baal returned home.
Another one too was resurrected… Mot came back from the dead, angry at being crushed ruthlessly by Anat. “It is war now Baal!” his voice boomed and reached Mount Saphon. “Because of you, I was burnt and scattered like dust. I’ll kill you with my bare hands.”
Baal and Mot battled it out on Mount Saphon, kicking, mauling, and goring each other like wild animals. Shapshu appeared and warned Mot.
“Enough Mot, Father El will tolerate this no longer. Without Baal, the earth will see no rain. You battle him at your own peril. Do you want the sceptre removed from your hand?” Mot stopped. He did not want his underworld taken away from him. He returned to his abode quietly. Baal sat on his throne once more.