“Who are you, traveler? Where do you come from?”
I had thought I would invent a name for myself; but suddenly there seemed no reason to do that. “I am Gilgamesh,” I said, and waited for her to laugh in my face, as one might do if I had said, “I am Enlil” or “I am An the Sky-father.” But she did not laugh. She looked at me long and close, frowning. I felt the presence of her, strong and warm and good. I said after a moment, “Do you know of me?”
“Everyone knows the name of Gilgamesh.”
“And is Gilgamesh a murderer?”
“He is king in Uruk. Kings have bloody hands.”
(from Gilgamesh The King by Robert Silverberg)
6*/10. The complete review is here.