Mesopotamia - The Healer, the Slave and the Prince

by Yehuda Israely

  Rukha's small lungs did not allow him to hold his breath for the duration of more than half a verse, but Timin had practiced for months and finally succeeded in holding his breath for an entire verse plus the chorus. This was the amount of time needed to take out the curved hollow reed he had hidden in linen fabric near his loins. While still submerged, and while grasping the roots of the reeds on the pool's floor with one hand, he placed upon his head with his other hand the loops of fresh, supple sheep's artery. Timin threaded the reed between the sheep's artery and his temple, placed the tip of it in his mouth, sealed his nose with a clip he had made out of a split piece of wood and began to breathe freely through the reed.

  Rukha silently hummed the second verse to himself and thought, 'Now he is removing the stones from the inflated cow stomachs on the floor of the pool.' Timin spent hours working on the cow stomachs that he stole from the offal left by the wolves. He rolled them back, scraped and cleaned out the stomachs inside and out and dried them in the sun. He then softened them with urine and inserted stiff and hollow plant stems inside the intestinal duct to prevent it from closing, sticking to itself or shrinking. Using a fish bone needle, he delicately stitched all of the stomachs together in a chain. At the end, he coated the stitches with a layer of bitumen sealing.

  Timin breathed heavily through the narrow reed as he fastened the inflated stomachs to his body with a harness made of wickers. The cow stomachs and the stone weights connected to them were impeccably designed and tested by Rukha so that, when Timin fastened them to his body, he was suspended in the thin mud at a suitable height above the floor of the pool yet below the surface of the water.

  Rukha hummed the third verse and thought to himself, 'Now he is fastening his sandals.' Rukha had prepared long-soled sandals made from strips of reeds woven with sturdy green palm fronds. He figured that these sandals, like the tail fin of a fish, would enable Timin to double his swimming speed. Without them, he doubted if Timin would be able to travel the distance needed to reach the river tonight.

  Suddenly, he noticed a movement. Rukha sat up at the entrance of his hut and saw the silhouettes of two taskmasters advancing toward the laundry pool. 'What are they doing?' A terrifying thought crossed his mind as his breath became short. Did one of the maids fail to bring them all of their laundry? Perhaps they were checking that no slaves remained in the pool, or maybe they were looking for a maid for the night. Could it be that their liquor jugs were empty and they were thirsty for water? He decided to divert their attention.

  Timin was groping the walls of the pool when, all of a sudden, he heard footsteps on the riverbank. Their voices indicated that they were merely several cubits away from him, though under the water he could not make out their words. With his blood frozen in his veins, he calmly thought that as long as he remained still, didn't make a sound and continued to breathe through the reed, they would not detect him. He settled into a mindset of serenity, much like the calmness that hovers at the threshold of sleep, and anticipated the moment when they would leave. Had it been daylight, a keen eye would have noticed the unnatural phenomenon of a reed floating vertically. Reeds either grow vertically or float horizontally; but in the darkness of night, no one noticed. To his relief, someone called out to them. Rukha was contorted with stomach pain. Timin silently hummed to himself the harvest song from beginning to end before daring to continue groping toward the narrow and muddy opening of the irrigation channel. With a slight push of his feet, he set out on his journey to freedom.

  Despite his exhaustion, Rukha did not sleep. He imagined that every dog's bark or jackal howl would awaken an uproar that would storm on Timin. Rukha trusted Namu, Goddess of water, not to betray his scent. With the first light, the slaves came out of their huts to kindle their fires and put water on to boil for the morning barley porridge. Shamash would reach a height of four fingers above the eastern horizon before the taskmasters would notice Timin's absence. By then, though, he would have already passed the opening between the narrow channel and the broad channel and would have found shelter like a nutria under an island of raspberry thickets. During the course of the day, he would doze with his head above the water and the reed in his mouth, always ready to noiselessly retreat back into the water should the need arise.

  All night, Eo tossed and turned between his straw mattress and feather quilt, unable to sleep. Finally, he rose from his bed and began to dress.

  “What's going on, my dear?” asked his wife.

  “Four donkey loads and water rations of two months, Tashritu and Arahsamnu? Wherever shall I get them, Kishmi?”

  “King Meskiagasher loves you, Eo,” replied his wife as she rose from their bed. Eo was a nickname, short for Eogulades, the name his teacher had given him upon ordaining him as an Eazo, healer of oils and spirits. The name meant 'He who the Medicine Goddess Gula lays within him'.

  “And what makes you so sure of this?”

  “Did anyone of all the king's doctors receive the seal besides you?” she asked, combing his thick hair and square beard with a comb made of hippopotamus ivory.

  Eo glanced with pride at the cylindrical seal, made of blue lapis lazuli, which he wore around his neck. Kishmi was right, as usual. Even his rival, the Ezo, healer of water and flesh, did not get such an honor.

  “Ever since you banished the Spirit of the Dead from the palace halls two harvest seasons ago, you have been remembered favorably.”

  “Indeed, yes, my dear.” He stroked her black curls and gazed at the love of his soul. He loved every eyelash that framed her large almond eyes. Eyes that always gave him strength. He cherished her touch, which never failed to warm him, and every curve of her plump body, from her smooth shoulders down to her abundant hips and her wide, barren thighs.

  “Don't worry, Gula has blessed you with the gift of healing. Take with you a fat goose for the high priest at the ziggurat temple, along with a sheep for him to bless, and go to the king with the sheep as a gift and request the price of a slave.”

  “I will have to meet with one of the king's ministers. In this vipers' nest, I have no idea who leans in my favor and who does not. How will I get past them to reach the king?”

  “Be patient. Advance slowly. Turn to whoever you need to and return home. Then we will consult together about how to progress. I'll be waiting for you with a sweet dish of pork neck meat with cherries and apricots in saffron and date honey, just how you like it.”

  “I cannot even afford the slave that I need and here you are planning a royal feast,” grumbled Eo as he looked into Kishmi's face. She dipped her hand in sheep's milk butter and peppermint extract and slid it over his beard. He kissed her hand and regretted his words.

  In Eo's eyes, there was no one better or more beautiful than Kishmi. The feeling intensified over the years, whenever he used to see her sitting at the entrance of her parents' hut as a young girl, helping her mother sort peas, he dreamt of her gleaming teeth that flashed through her coy smile. No man was happier than he when her parents agreed to his parents' request to arrange an engagement between them. He learned to appreciate her intelligence over the years.

  He stood up. Kishmi wrapped the traditional wraparound skirt around his small belly, fastened the skirt and laced his sandals that he reserved for special occasions. Eo examined himself in the polished copper mirror and studied his high forehead, flat nose and dark skin. A tangled plume of hair sprouted from his collar. 'This is how an oil healer favored by the king ought to look,' he tried to convince himself. He looked at his jewelry, the gold earrings adorning his ears, the bone bracelets hugging his forearms, the chain with the blue seal around his neck and the golden serpent pin that was a testament to his position as a healer.

  “You look very respectable,” said Kishmi, standing behind him as her image dimly took shape in the mirror.

  He scrunched his thick eyebrows so that his sharp gaze appeared even more penetrating. 'This is the soul-penetrating gaze of an oil healer,' he tried to flatter himself, but the th
ought only brought a smile to his lips and the dour wrinkles on his forehead vanished.

  “At least I look like a healer,” said Eo sheepishly.

  He loaded the goose, whose legs were bound together, onto one shoulder and with his other arm he pulled the sheep, which was tied to a rope woven from palm fibers. The couple touched noses in farewell. He left the dimness of the hut through the low doorway and emerged into Shamash's blinding light, on his way to the temple.

  At the edge of the broad palm avenue, before the red temple reserved for the king, rose the ziggurat tower, the white temple, called such after the tens of thousands of white engravings made of baked clay that were embedded in the building's mortar and that lent it its color. Here and there, blue engraved lines highlighted the whiteness of the walls. Eo headed anxiously and excitedly toward it, greeting passersby’s with a touch of his hand to his nose. He apologized to those who wanted to stop and consult with him about their ailments and hurried along on his way. In exchange for a few flakes of copper paid at the foot of the white step pyramid, he quenched his thirst with some bitter pomegranate juice.

  The priest was delighted to receive the goose. After slaughtering it in accordance with all the rules and customs, he offered the roast goose to the idols of An, God of the Sky, and his daughter Inana, Goddess of Uruk. The Gods ate their meal in private from behind a screen. They ate very little, an almost imperceptible amount of the food. Afterward, when Eo visited and prayed with the icons who prayed for him and Kishmi, the priest ate what remained of the Gods' offering. When he finished, he wiped the goose fat from his beard and blessed Eo and the sheep in the name of the Gods of heaven and earth. Eo tugged the sheep's rope and continued on his way, down the broad road that stretched from the temple to the palace.

  The chief guard called him: he must not wait in line with the commoners. He led Eo around the pool at the entrance, past the gilt statues of winged lions into a small waiting room.

  Eo waited a long time. The minister’s slaves served him chilled water, roasted pistachios and dried figs. He ate until he was content and almost fell asleep in the warmth of the day when one of the guards finally invited him into the minister’s chamber.

  “Seruf, the respected and sublime minister of slaves, who serves King Meskiagasher, may his glory be exalted, ruler of the Middle World, will see you now,” announced the erect doorman. Eo followed him through a maze of corridors until he reached the chambers of Minister Seruf. The minister's bottom filled the wide couch and the many folds of his chins overflowed out onto his blood-red robe. The robe covered an enormous belly that settled somewhere between his knees. His black eyes were lined with dark kohl and his cheeks were smeared with rouge in the manner of the Egyptians.

  “The oil healer Eogulades!” announced the sentry.

  The eunuch continued to file his long fingernails on a stone, and without even raising his eyes to Eo, inquired in a shrill and obsequious voice, “How are you and how is your wife... healer?” he added with a touch of sarcasm.

  “I am well and my wife is well, my master.” Eo felt chills crawling up his spine in the eunuch's presence.

  “And if you are doing so well, then to what honor do I owe this visit?” The eunuch glanced sideways at Eo and blinked seductively.

  “I wish to acquire a slave to act as an apprentice to my craft, my master.”

  “Of course, of course, a distinguished healer such as yourself is deserving of an apprentice to safeguard your precious knowledge. Indeed I am the officer of slaves, but why have you turned to the king's court? Why do you bother us with such trivial matters?

  “Well... Even though I find myself in the king's favor, my wages are still meager, and... I am unable to purchase a slave,” stammered Eo shamefully.

  “So you feel that King Meskiagasher, may his glory be exalted, does not pay you properly for your toil?”

  Eo felt webs of intrigue grasping his ankles and creeping up the length of his body, pushing all of his blood up into his flushed face. He twisted the sheep's rope nervously around his fingers. “No, my master. I am grateful to the king and his officers for all compensation for my craft. I am merely asking for a loan.”

  “Please, come closer, my dear Eogulades. Why do you stand so far from me? Come sit by my side.” The eunuch's lips curled into a greasy smile and he patted a cushion next to the couch.

  Eo reluctantly sat down on the cushion and the eunuch rested his hand naturally on his thigh.

  “How much do you need?”

  “Four donkey loads of barley and two autumn months’ worth of water rations, my master.” Intense cold crept from his thigh and spread to the rest of his body. The eunuch did not hurry to reply. He pressed his weight more heavily on Eo's thigh while staring at him and said, “Of course you are a talented healer.”

  “Many people are satisfied with my work.” Eo hoped that that was the correct answer.

  “And what do you think? Is this indeed the case?”

  “I have been able to harness the Gods to help my patients more than once, if not every time.”

  “Tell me, are you good at what you do?”

  “Yes...” he replied hesitantly.

  “Yes, I also imagined that was the case, otherwise the king would not have invited you to see him. King Meskiagasher, may his glory be exalted, wisest of men in the Middle World, makes no mistakes, as opposed to some of his ministers. I want to help you because I know how great your contribution is to the kingdom, a contribution that far outshines that of his most senior viziers, is it not?”

  “Your servant is not an expert in the laws and processes of the kingdom. Who am I to open my mouth and give my opinion on the king's ministers?” Eo quickly considered if he should continue talking and came to the conclusion that it would be better for him to continue to do so. Even if the eunuch did not approve of his answers, Eo could defend himself against any eavesdroppers. “The king who is wisest of men has been endowed with the understanding to choose his advisors and ministers.”

  “Of course, of course,” the eunuch immediately retracted his hand from Eo's thigh and hurried to unravel the webs of trickery that he had woven. A man such as him, however, does not relent so easily. “Indeed, the king, may his name be exalted, chooses those faithful to him. But even he needs eyes in all places. Even though he is the son of Gods, he has only two eyes in his head. Tell me a bit about your work, oil healer.”

  “Gladly. What would you like to know, my master?”

  “For what reasons do your patients come to you?”

  “When they think that a demon or spirit is the cause of their illness, they turn to me.”

  “And how do you work?”

  “I try to clarify cases in which dwellers of the Netherworld and the Heavenly World are indeed involved with human affairs, that is, the men and women who live in the Middle World.”

  “And if it turns out that this is the case?”

  “I try to negotiate with the demons and spirits to see what they want and why they are trying to attain this through humans of the Middle World.”

  “If so, you could say that it is part of your job to try to help both humans as well as dwellers of the other Worlds?”

  “Yes...” he stammered hesitantly and tightened the rope around his fingers again.

  “And you are able to intercede with the dwellers of other Worlds on behalf of human beings?”

  “I can try.”

  “Wonderful, wonderful, Eogulades my friend, simply wonderful.”

  Eo gave him a puzzled look.

  “The involvement of otherworldly beings may be extremely helpful in a certain matter. You need not carry on any longer without an apprentice slave to bear your knowledge, if you can help me as well. I am a person, if not exactly a man nor exactly a woman.” He batted his eyes again.

  “And how can I be of service to you, my master?”

  “Wonderful, Eogulades, how nice it is that you are willing to help me. I assure you that you will not regret the
donkey loads you shall receive.” From his disappointment to his finger, which had turned slightly pale under the tight rope, Eo could hide nothing from Seruf's eyes. Part of his devious scheme had been to treat Eo as if he had already agreed to help so that he could no longer refuse. “The matter is quite simple, and as a slave owner, it will interest you as well. But first, let us drink young and refreshing wine together.”

  The table was set with clay plates and cups, wooden spoons, a chunk of bread and pitcher of cool water. A stew of pork with cherries, apricots and date honey bubbled on the stove. The sweet scent of saffron filled the house. The brooding Eo ignored the lavish feast. “Why did you bring the sheep back, my dearest Eo? And why has your face fallen?”

  “It's better to continue with no slave at all or to cut back our expenses and buy the slave in two or three years' time than to fall into Seruf's web. Bring me cold water to settle my nausea from that scum.”

  Kishmi poured water into a ceramic cup and remained silent until Eo finished formulating his thoughts into words.

  “Minister Seruf, chief of slave affairs, outwitted me with his smooth talking. He manipulated me in such a way to make me look like a worthless fraud who is unable to negotiate with the dwellers of the other Worlds, and then while trying to prove my abilities I had to agree to grant his request so I could be worthy of his trust. To grant his price far exceeds the cost of a number of slaves.”

  He swallowed the entirety of the cup's contents.

  Kishmi waited silently for him to continue his speech and refilled his cup from the pitcher.

  “I must deliver a curse against Vizier Murdoch by summoning Ereshkigal and Nergal, rulers of the Netherworld, to take him.”

  “Seruf wants you to kill Murdoch, the chief vizier?” asked Kishmi in astonishment.

  “Shh...” whispered Eo, “the excuse that he gave me was that Vizier Murdoch treats the slaves too mercifully. If he continues to make their lives easier, we will face a slave revolt that will threaten the very existence of this kingdom. He asked me to assist him in saving the kingdom.” His mouth contorted. “Seruf has increased the severity of the slaves' punishments and now he wants to make their lives even harder. He claimed that, as a slave owner, I should also take interest in this. He even offered me many gifts so that I'd be able to buy more slaves. He refused to accept the sheep.”