Mesopotamia - The Redeemer

by Yehuda Israely

  There were slaves who glued themselves to the walls of the pit. Some were too weak to deal with the ordeal and simply preferred to avoid getting hurt. Others did not want to cause injury to their fellows. There were also those who refused to allow the eunuch enjoyment at all costs, even if that cost was condemning themselves to stay in the pit. The remainder of the slaves, however, crowded into the center of the pit like a solid mass and tried to snatch the ball. The eunuch delighted in the cries of the trampled, the sight of the flowing blood, the writhing mass of sweaty bare limbs and the sinewy muscles threatening to burst under the strain.

  To his dismay, however, his amusement was short-lived. One short but stocky slave, whose flat nose indicated Egyptian ancestry, used the last of his strength to climb the rope dangling into the pit, clenching the sinews of the ball in his teeth. He kneeled and extended the ball to the eunuch.

  “You have merited to come out of the pit and return to your labor.” The eunuch concluded the game and left the platform toward his litter. He did not linger; the tally of wounded would be presented to him later, after his slaves carried him back to his quarters.

  Eo skipped swiftly in his light and silent felt shoes over the river rocks between the banks of the small gutters that flowed from the courtyards into the back alleys. He was careful not to step on the rats that were not quick enough to dart out of the way in time. At this time of night, not a soul walked through the streets and certainly none in the sewers; even Sin himself had finished his journey across the sky. Before Eo went out, Kishmi clothed him in a thick wool cloak worn over his cotton nightdress. On top of all this he wore a cloak made of black camel wool and a large cowl that hid his face from the night chill as well as from prying eyes. He was familiar with the serpentine path behind the courtyards that led toward the vizier's mansion. When he skipped over the wider banks, his hand grasped the clay tablet inside the pocket of his cloak.

  That morning, he rose early and went down to the banks of the irrigation channel nearby. He dug a bit of clay off the side of the bank and flattened it into a tablet. Using a piece of flint, he cut off a section of reed and sharpened it into a stylus. The curse was a simple one. Three symbols: disease, downfall and death. Even though he did not know how to read or write, he was familiar with these symbols. He lay the tablet out to dry and went off to gather wood to fire it. Before placing the tablet on the scorching stones, he pressed into it a small clay marble bearing the symbol for reversal.

  A wide road patrolled by watchmen separated the craftsmen's quarters from the royal servants' quarters that encircled the palace. Eo paused next to a house and silently listened to the chattering of the guards and the slapping of their sandals until they had passed. When he was certain that the coast was clear, he quickly crossed the street and flattened himself against the outer wall of a mansion that was most likely inhabited by relatives of the king. He removed his cloak and turned it inside out so that the yellow stripes were clearly visible on his sleeves. Kishmi had sewn on these stripes that indicated service of the king. This way, he could step out from the shadows inconspicuously. 'Wise Kishmi,' he smiled to himself as he continued walking.

  The vizier's house was now about two hundred cubits away down the alley. 'So far, no mishaps. With Gula's help, it should remain this way,' he said to himself. He clenched the lapis lazuli seal that hung from his neck. He then went back to crouching in the shadows and waited.

  “Thieves! Help, thieves!” rose a woman's voice from underneath Vizier Murdoch's house. Eo restrained himself from peeking at the scene. He listened in suspense.

  “Thieves are prowling the king’s streets and no one is watching!” shrieked the woman furiously.

  “What happened, fair lady?” he heard one of the watchmen whisper.

  “Someone snatched my bundle of silver coins and fled in that direction,” she raised her voice and gestured in the opposite direction of where Eo was hiding.

  “Run and catch him!” the chief guard commanded his sentries. He then turned to the woman. “What is a respected lady such as yourself doing outside at such a late hour?” asked the guard without raising a voice lest he awaken his master.

  But the woman did not care. She continued to complain at the top of her lungs about the dangers lurking on the roads, the crime encroaching onto the city and about how, even in the royal quarters, a woman cannot safely walk while carrying a bundle of silver coins without being robbed. The chief watchman attempted to silence her, but to no avail.

  “I can assure you that law and order are being maintained in these streets. It's possible that the thief who snatched you money is the fugitive slave who recently ran away from Master Savsesser's fields. We'll catch him soon and I can assure you that we will sentence him with as many punishments as the number of coins he stole from you.”

  Eo took advantage of the ruckus unfolding in front of the house and slipped through the sewage alleys into the back courtyard of the vizier's house.

  “My lady, please lower your voice as not to awaken my master from his sleep,” whispered the chief watchman. But it was already too late. On the second floor, a window opened and an older man's voice called out, “What's going on there?”

  “We're taking care of it, Your Highness...”

  The woman interjected, “Your Highness, there are thieves prowling about outside your house and the guards were unable to detain them.”

  “And who are you, my lady?” asked the vizier in an amused tone, the glow of the oil candle flame flickering across his wrinkled face.

  “It is improper for me, and especially for Your Highness, that our conversation is exchanged in the streets like petty gossip in the marketplace. Is that not so, my master?”

  “Of course, of course,” replied the vizier. “Escort her up here!” he instructed the chief watchman.

  “As you say, my master.”

  “Psst...” whispered the vizier.

  “Psst...” replied Eo from within his hiding place in the dark alcove in the house's back courtyard.

  “Kishmi is a very courageous and wise woman, Eogulades. I wanted to send her home in a litter, but she refused.”

  “Yes, Your Highness the Vizier. Thank you, but it is crucial that no one finds out that we were here. She will go on her way by herself. She certainly told you that your watchmen acted appropriately.”

  “I was glad to see that no thieves had slipped through my guards' hands.” The vizier smiled.

  Eo smiled back.

  “And so, what is this important and secret issue that necessitated this whole scheme?”

  Eo told him about his meeting with the eunuch, of the eunuch's request for him to place a curse on the vizier and his inability to directly refuse him lest the eunuch conspire against him. The vizier listened intently. Initially, he was suspicious of Eo, but he quickly realized that the spiritual healer had no interest in becoming entangled in the intrigues of the court and it looked like he had been dragged into this mess against his will. His words seemed truthful. The vizier's gaze hardened. Finally, he said, “I always knew that that eunuch was a snake in the grass. I would gladly behead him. I assume you came here to suggest a solution.”

  “Yes, Your Highness, if you find my solution favorable. This is the curse. Hold it carefully. Don't worry, it won't hurt you.” Eo removed the clay tablet from his pocket and placed it in the vizier's palm. “There are three symbols here: Disease, downfall and destruction. The marble pressed into the tablet bears the symbol for reversal. Break off the marble with your right hand and put it in your pocket. It will serve as an amulet so that whatever curse is hurled at you will function as a blessing.”

  The vizier broke off the little ball from the corner of the tablet and cupped it in his fist inside his pocket. He returned the tablet to Eo, who placed it inside his own pocket.

  “Your Highness,” Eo turned to him, “In order to remove any doubts or suspicions from the eunuch's heart, I think it would be worthwhile for you to affect illness for a few da
ys and make sure the eunuch gets a chance to see your weakened state. This way, he will be certain that I am operating on his behalf, will assume that he has achieved what he seeks and will not take any more measures against you.”

  “Then so be it! By the way, if for any reason the price of the slave is not approved, I'll help you. Do not hesitate to approach me regarding any matter whatsoever. I see that you are averse to black magic and are loyal to the king and his loyal servants.”

  “Your Highness, with your permission I shall utilize the remaining hour of darkness to slip away to my house.”

  “Go in peace, Eogulades.”

  When he returned from the sewage alleys through the back entrance of his hut, Kishmi was already home. She hugged him tightly and silently. He stretched out on his bed and hoped to sleep for the little time that remained until sunrise, but he did not fall asleep. When the roosters crowed, Eo did not tarry. He bundled up the breakfast of cheese and onions that Kishmi had prepared for him and headed toward the eunuch's chambers in the royal palace. In his pouch was the tablet, whose corner had been sanded down so that it was impossible to discern that it was not whole.

  This time, the eunuch did not let him wait outside as he had previously done. The sentry announced his arrival and brought him in immediately. He wore a thin green robe and sat, as usual, with his belly protruding out between his knees. After a brief exchange of polite chitchat and regards to Kishmi, the eunuch began the conversation in his shrill voice.

  “Eo, my dear, what is that in your hand?”

  “This is the curse,” he said as he drew it out of his pocket, “You must hide it in a secret place and avoid touching it so that it won't affect you.”

  “I knew you would not disappoint me, my dearest Eogulades.”

  “Yes, my master.” Eo held himself back so as not to inadvertently blurt out the truth in front of the eunuch. 'And why would you care if he thought that you are corrupt just like him?' --he heard the prudent voice of Kishmi speaking in his head.

  “That is why you will receive all that you have requested. The donkey loads, silver coins, irrigation rights. And don't hesitate to approach me again. I am sure that I'll find others who deserve to be cursed, and you will only be the richer for it. Stay by my side, Eo, and you will amass a fortune. A greater fortune than you have ever imagined.”

  “Yes, my master.” Eo sensed his ability to feign his intentions was reaching its limit. He was itching to be rid of the oppressive presence of the slick eunuch.

  “Why are you sitting so far away, opposite me? Come, sit beside me. After all, we are friends and partners now.” The eunuch batted his kohl lined eyes. His thick wet lips stirred up feelings of nausea in Eo, but he had no choice but to get up and sit some distance from his side. Seruf put his hand on Eo's knee. When he sensed Eo becoming tense, he retracted his hand and relented. 'It seems that, in the meantime, I cannot obtain or gain any more than this from the handsome oil healer,' he mused.

  “Here is the promissory note.” From within the folds of his robe, the eunuch removed a tablet bearing inscriptions testifying that the king's officials are guarantors to the financial obligations for the debt to the lender. “I won't keep you any longer, my friend. You have your work cut out for you, purchasing a worthy slave. Just one word of advice.”

  “Gladly, my master.” Eo was thinking about how the eunuch's shrill voice reminded him of the squeaking rats in the sewers.

  “Ever since one of Savsesser's slaves escaped, slave prices have plummeted. I suggest you buy your slave without delay. That way you can get a slave at the lowest price and keep the sack of coins for yourself.”

  “Thank you, my master.”

  The eunuch gestured toward the door with his hand, rang the small copper bell and waved goodbye with his pudgy fingers laden with gold rings. The sentry opened the door form the outside and Eo exited, taking care not to overtly break out in a run as he stifled a sigh of relief.

  Savsesser spared no effort in hosting Eo. Eo had already become accustomed to the honor showered upon him by those whose health depended on him; the embarrassment of those whose social status was below his own; and even the apprehension displayed by those who did not understand his practice, wary of his abilities to communicate with demons and spirits. Savsesser's attitude was different. He was a wealthy man, a landowner and slave owner, but in Eo's presence he became remarkably servile: he yelled at the slaves to hasten to bring the esteemed guest chilled pomegranate juice, barley liquor and smoked strips of lamb. He spoke in obsequious praise of Eo, 'the most distinguished healer that Uruk has ever known'.

  Eo knew how to filter the truth. This flattery was an integral part of the business, as the eunuch had mentioned—a relationship between buyer and seller in a buyer's market.

  They sat under the grape arbor, sipping liquor and chewing smoked meat as they observed the toiling slaves.

  “I have two Nubian slaves, built for long hours of field labor under the blazing Shamash. You can see them there in the line of harvesters, the two on the far right. What do you think?”

  “They certainly look industrious. How long have you had them?”

  “The tall one for two years and the shorter one—a year. If you need especially vigorous slaves I'll give you a special price for one of them, just for you.”

  “And who else is for sale?”

  “I have a number of fine maidservants, excellent for both field and house labor. If your wife does not object, I'll suggest the best one for you,” winked Savsesser and laughed deeply with his entire mouth: his gums were almost empty, with only a few rotten teeth remaining.

  Eo ignored the joke. “No, thank you. I am looking for a slave.”

  “And maybe you'd like to purchase a boy, who you can mold like potter's clay?”

  “No thank you, my honorable Savsesser. Just a simple slave.”

  “If that's the case then, I'll show you the merchandise. But first, eat and drink. It is an honor for me to host you in the shade of my arbor. More meat and juice!” he yelled out to a slave, who leapt to the kitchen as if his life depended on it.

  “I offer you heartfelt thanks for your substantial generosity, but I have eaten and drunk enough. If you are ready, let us take a stroll through your property.”

  Savsesser rose to his feet and moved with a limp, supported by his staff while leaning with his other arm over Eo. Savsesser looked older than his forty five years. His right knee had already collapsed under the weight of his heavyset body. When he spoke, his beady eyes darted from side to side and Eo wondered if he was plotting something while he continued to heap flattery upon him. Eo breathed deeply and thanked him in return, expressing astonishment at the beauty of his fruit trees, the sweetness of the water in his canals, the swollen stalks of barley and the diligence of his slaves. Savsesser greedily drank in every compliment.

  “Call him!” Savsesser ordered the slave that was escorting him and pointed his staff toward the edge of the field. The slave set off in a sprint and returned with one of the slaves by his side.

  “Yes, my master,” said the slave with his head lowered.

  Savsesser did not answer him. “He is one of the most diligent slaves. Assyrian origin. You can see that he manages double the quota and leaves his fellow slaves in his dust. Come closer and examine the fine condition he's in.” Savsesser peeled back the lips of the slave, who stood at attention, revealing straight white teeth. He pressed his thumb into the fold of his elbow and demonstrated the speed at which the muscle moved back in place without leaving a mark. Finally, he struck the slave's side with his staff to demonstrate his obedience and ability to absorb blows. Savsesser forcibly grabbed the Assyrian's jaw and turned his gaze to Eo.

  Eo saw depths of despair within the slaves dimmed eyes. He restrained himself from reacting to Savsesser's harshness and regretted that he could afford only one slave.

  “He really makes an excellent impression, but he is surely more expensive than the other slaves and I have no
need for a slave this strong. I am ready to see the other candidates.” But the slave's gaze had pierced his soul.

  “How much are you willing to pay?” ventured Savsesser.

  “I prefer to see the others,” sidestepped Eo. He was not a natural merchant and was wary of negotiation.

  “As you wish. Let me show you the slaves who are occupied with the olive harvest.”

  Between the furrows of barley grew the orchard trees: pomegranates, crab apples, sycamores, figs, almonds, apricots and a number of olive trees. When Savsesser and Eo approached them, the boys stopped smacking the tree branches. Savsesser signaled the biggest one of them to come forward and he ran over. He stood before them, his entire body tense and trembling, assuming he was about to be whipped.

  “This slave is of Semitic Amorite origin, twelve years old, speaks Sumerian and Akkadian. He was brought to me by his sharecropper parents as payment for their crops. Don't worry about him escaping—his parents' lives are at stake as they are collateral for his loyalty. He is diligent and quiet and I am sure that he will be of good use to you.”

  Eo felt distressed by the slave's suffering and wondered if it was best for him to just give up on the whole idea. He had no interest in joining the ranks of slave masters, recoiling at the practice of separating a child from his parents to sentence him to a lifetime of slavery. Maybe it would be best if he didn't take an apprentice; perhaps Kishmi would be upset, but surely she would understand once he explained to her what he had witnessed in Savsesser's estate.

  “Allow me to think it over, my honorable Savsesser. I have seen more than enough and now I must consider.”