He tried to walk with the confident gait of a free man as he was walking along the path on the banks of the canal through which Timin had escaped. He severed a long reed and dipped it into the water, as if Timin were still submerged and would notice that Rukha was looking for him. About two parasangs further, he stumbled upon one of the stomachs that Timin had used for floatation. The slave hunters had surely passed by here but could not have imagined that this unusual contraption had facilitated Timin's escape. If they had suspected such a thing, they would have pursued him along the canal until the river. He recognized the stitches that he had sewn with his very own fingers and hope ignited within him once more. 'At least I know that the plan worked. At least he got this far.'
The estuary was dammed with woven reed fishing nets filled with fish, fluttering in a futile attempt to escape. 'This is where Timin came out of the canal. Nobody saw him. If they had seen him, he would have been caught. The river was full to the brim and the strong current would have quickly swept him to the ocean, and from there to his home in Elam,' Rukha thought encouragingly. 'From this point on, I will not find any more signs.' He bit into the barley bread and cheese that Kishmi had given him as provisions for the journey and tossed a piece of it into the water, as if sharing it with Timin. He then retied the knots on the sack of cheese on his back and ascended the bridge leading toward the other side of the river.
Rukha stood on the bridge and gazed down at the stream below. As Eo had predicted, he deliberated his options.
One moment he thought: 'I am no longer the property of any man. Not even of the kind Eo and Kishmi. I have the right to go free, if I so desire, just like Timin did. This sack of cheese could last me a couple of days and there are plenty of fruit and almond trees along the river banks. I could build myself a raft out of canes and float out to sea and from there continue to Elam, to Timin.'
And then the next moment he contradicted his own proposition: 'You have nowhere to go. You have no family to which you can return. The chances of locating Timin in the Kingdom of Elam is akin to finding a fish scale inside a swamp. Kishmi and Eo are not like the masters you used to know; they treat you fairly. Eo does not burden you with hard labor and Kishmi cares for you as if you were her own son. And where would you go, anyway? Perhaps you will see Timin one day again.'
Rukha traded the cheese for oil on the other side of the river and returned to the hut. He grasped the neck of the jug of oil and unloaded it from his back. “My master, my lady, I have returned. I brought the oil,” he called out as he entered the house. When he heard no reply, he went out to the back yard and saw them sitting on the ground. Eo's face was sullen and Kishmi appeared to be sobbing. They lifted their eyes to him in silence.
“What has happened?” he asked as he felt the dread creeping up his back to his nape and closing in on his face.
“They found Timin,” said Eo.
The jug of oil dropped from his hands, struck the ground and spilled. His eyes darkened, his lungs deflated, his knees trembled and he collapsed like a sack of grain. Only after Kishmi offered, “I'm so sorry, Rukha,” he began to sob and they hugged him in their arms.
Finally he composed himself and asked, “What happened?”
“About fifty parasangs down the Euphrates from Uruk lies the city state of Ur. When Timin tried to enter the gates of Ur, according to Savsesser's account, the slave hunters waiting there recognized the Elamite dressed in rags.”
They were supposed to meet one day. Rukha insisted on it. Timin would join his family in Elam and one day he would have enough money to buy Rukha's freedom. As far as Rukha was concerned, he would be freed from slavery one day with the Gods' help, sail down the Euphrates to Elam in a boat made of reeds and then the Gods would help him locate Timin. They already planned on raising their children as neighbors and then marry them to one another, thereby realizing the familial bond that they already felt toward each other for so long. Now none of this would happen. Ever. As he felt his future falling to pieces, Rukha thought about how no one could ever take from him the past that he shared with Timin, his memories of the man who was like a mother and father to him, the one who bore both of their harvest quotas on his rugged back.
“Did they capture him?”
“No. He fled as soon as he realized they were on to him. Then they understood that he was indeed Timin and shot him with their arrows.”
“So he died a free man?”
“Yes. Timin left this world as a free man.”
CHAPTER 4
"What, do you think is the reason for the woman's fainting spells?" asked Eo.
As was their habit at the end of each work day, since Rukha had been bought a year before, they sat between the spice sacks, skins of oil and tar, potion bottles and star charts, and discussed the patients who had asked for their help that day.
"You can't ignore the fact that these attacks started since her husband took himself an additional wife, and they have become worse since his other wife gave him a son".
"Good Rukha. What else"?
"When she is unconscious, her husband never leaves her bedside, never even goes near the bed of his second wife".
"Good, and what about the other man we saw? Why does his left eye have a visual paralysis that comes and goes"?
"His son, who he calls 'the Apple of My Eye', disappeared in the flooding of the Euphrates and won't return. At least 'the apple of his left eye' returns now and again".
Eo smiled in satisfaction at Rukha's wit and the clarity of his diagnosis but continued to question him.
"And the girl whose parents brought her, the one who is tearing her hair out one hair at a time"?
"Maybe like the first woman she isn't receiving any attention from her parents"?
"Did you see any sign of that"?
"No".
"Trust yourself. If you don't see something, it probably it isn’t there".
"Maybe it's a demon?" asked Rukha.
"Did you hear a demon speaking from within her"?
"No".
"Did you see a demon resisting letting her speak with us"?
"No, I didn't see that either".
"Again, trust yourself. That's not it".
"My teacher, I do not know. What is the reason"?
"You surely remember the day I bought you from Savsesser a year ago".
"How could I ever forget?"
"Do you know why I chose you"?
"No".
"And it never occurred to you to ask"?
Rukha was silent.
"I chose you as an apprentice oil healer because I believe that people are free, and choose at least some of their illnesses in order to pretend that they are not free".
"And why did you choose me"?
"Because when I saw you beaten, in pain, and chained to the wall, you were completely enslaved in the simple meaning of the word, but uncommonly free in the deeper sense. You had realized your freedom in the choice to help a friend escape, and you had put your freedom to the test, in the way you carried the price of that choice".
Rukha had never admitted that he aided Timin, but now he saw no reason to deny it. He lowered his eyes humbly.
"Do you remember what you answered me when I told you that Savsesser should be chained in your place?" asked Eo.
"No. I wasn't really conscious".
"I'll remind you. You said: Every man's fate is determined by his choices. I have no hate or bitterness. Savsesser chooses to oppress his slaves, Timin chose to risk his life for freedom and I am charged with choosing to risk my life for friendship".
"How does that have anything to do with it"?
"Did you see how they were sitting"?
"She and her mother sat very close to one another, hand in hand, and the father sat bent over opposite them".
"Well"?
"Well what? My teacher, I do not know," Rukha responded.
"If she doesn't resist her mother's hold, she will never be able to become one with a man. How old is she"?
"Sixteen".
"She has reached a marriageable age and her mother is not searching for a suitable match for her. Don't you find that odd?" Eo asked, hoping Rukha would notice the clues.
"It is strange, but what does that have to do with the fact that Savsesser chooses to act the way he did?" his mind was working feverishly.
"The mother, the daughter, and the father are making choices too. What are their choices"?
"Now I understand," Rukha's eyes lit up. "The mother is choosing not to let the daughter go, the father is choosing not to intervene, and the daughter is choosing to please her mother".
"And the hairs"?
'Severance', the word echoed in Rukha's mind, but he said nothing. He was afraid of sounding silly. Despite the good treatment of Eo and Kishmi, in his heart nested a worry that he might fail as an apprentice and be returned to Savsesser. Eo understood Rukha's fear. He knew that despite all his efforts, it would still be a long time before Rukha would learn to trust himself and his instincts.
"Speak! Don't be afraid to be wrong".
Rukha gathered his courage and said, "the word severing seems to be important here".
"Good, go on," Eo encourage him.
"She is severing the hairs from her head".
"Go on".
"Like… like she would like to sever herself from her mother," he said all at once, and waited tensely for the reaction.
Eo looked at him with a serious expression and little by little a smile appeared at the corners of his mouth. "Excellent, Rukha, you're learning to read body language".
Rukha sighed in relief and straightened his wrinkled forehead.
"In contrast to your choice against Savsesser, why did the girl's choice have to be an unconscious one?" asked Eo.
Rukha thought and finally answered. "I don't know, Eo".
"What was the reason why you refused to admit to Savsesser that you had aided Timin? Didn't you believe that admitting it would grant you a swift death"?
"Actually, I did believe that," Rukha answered.
"So then why did you stay silent"?
"Because admitting to aiding him might have revealed how he escaped and led to his capture".
Eo was silent.
"How is this connected to the girl?" asked Rukha.
"You also refrained from admitting it in order not to give away someone else".
Rukha's eyes lit up. A pleasant satisfaction stimulated his senses. True pleasure. "You mean the girl is refraining from admitting she wants to be cut loose from her mother, in order not to give away the fact that her mother is enslaving her?" Rukha asked.
"Very good," said Eo and didn't let go. "Now for the treatment. How would you treat the woman who keeps fainting"?
"I would give her a concoction of wormwood leaves ground up with mustard seeds and instruct her husband to give her a heaped serving every time she faints, but other than that, he must not be anywhere near her when she is unconscious. Only his other wife may come near her and massage her temples with common rue oil. I would tell the husband to allow the wife to choose three nights a week when he will sleep in her bed and instruct him to keep to this arrangement for two months and then return to us again".
"And to the bereaved father"?
"I would tell him to take a young goat's kid and sacrifice it to the river God Enki, but not to eat from the meat of the kid. He must spill the blood into the river, and after separating the priests' sections to the temple, he must prepare from the rest a meal for the lucky dice players at the taverns".
"Why?" Eo was puzzled.
"The sacrifice will help him to refrain from closing his eye," winked Rukha, "that's because the river God Enki took his son as a sacrifice, not to be returned. The lucky dice players will invite him to play with them, and the game of luck will be a place where money comes and goes, rather than the vision in his left eye".
"Your words are so wise and precise, Rukha. You listen to the patient's words like a scribe reads a tablet. And what would you do about the girl who is tearing out the hair from her head"?
"I would tell her mother to find her a match".
"That may find her a match, but I don't know if that would cause her to leave her hair alone".
"What would cause that?" Rukha asked. Learning excited him. Working with Eo had taught him that for years he had been walking the world without seeing or understanding. It had never occurred to him that he could see into the depths of the soul, understand the motives of men.
Eo thought for a few moments before answering. "In contrast to what is usually accepted, her father should be the one looking for a match for her. She must be transferred from her mother's possession to her father's, before she can move to her husband's possession. She must cling to her father by preparing with him to meet the suitors' parents, and tighten the hairs in his beard with linen fibers and butter oil. The girl's mother must express her approval of the transfer from the mother to the father by churning the sheep's cream for the butter herself".
"And that's how she'll be transferred from the possession of the mother to that of the father, and from the father to the husband?" asked Rukha excitedly.
"Exactly, Rukha".
"Is that it"?
"No. She must also feel the bodily pain at the separation between her and her mother.
"How"?
"Her mother will pierce the earlobe of the girl, without a clove concoction to numb the pain, and her father will put the earring on her".
Rukha was surprised at the depth of Eo's perception, and from the speed at which he had designed the treatment ceremonies. "I'll never be as good as you".
"Why not? You're a quick learner and you understand what you need to learn. You understand that this world is with us at all times, under the surface, like a double bottom of a jug. Sometimes it is possible to understand what is going on there, and sometimes it isn't. I also don't understand all the time.
On a fine spring day, His Royal Highness, King Meskiagasher went out hunting lions. On his head he wore a tortoiseshell helmet, from which two polished buffalo horns protruded. His hair was braided and tied, his beard was separated into sideburns entwined with golden threads and curled against the slope of his wide exposed chest. At his waist, he wore a skirt of ox leather and on his feet he wore felt shoes made of sheep's wool.
Eo sat frozen in the sedan chair on the king's right hand side. Was there any higher honor than this? It could be interpreted in two ways only: Either the king was giving him respect for a particularly successful healing he had performed recently – Eo doubted this was the case, since he hadn't performed a healing like this recently, and also because he generally underestimated his worth; but the second option, the more likely and more intimidating, was that the king was going to put before him a particularly difficult challenge. Eo feared that the king had invited him in order to discuss the ongoing drought that had hit their normally fertile fields, dried out the barley before it had even ripened, and made the ground as hard as stone. Could it be that Shamash, the sun God and his servant Nergal, king of the underworld, were angry with them for some reason? Eo feared that the king was going to ask him to heal the suffering of the ground. He knew that this task was above his powers.
The king sat straight as a young palm tree, his jaw tight and his eyes focused on an unknown point on the horizon. Eo did not need his special skills to distinguish the great tension and the heavy sadness that encompassed His Highness. Eo was scared. The king was deep in thought and did not say a word during the entire trip, and neither did Eo.
Finally they arrived at a great wide space, surrounded by rare fruit trees from around the world. Between the trees were brooks which in these arid days had dwindled to a thin trickle. The king's servant guided Eo, along with the entourage of musicians and scribes. They could not hide their envy of Eo for the honor he had received.
A trumpeting sound erupted from a ram's horn, and the king's servant, who was standing on the lion's cage, pulled the cage's
opening up and opened it. The lion was tremendous in size, its mane was blacker than black, a gift sent by sea from the land of Sheba. There were lions in Sumer as well, but their size was not so impressive, and as such they were not considered worthy for a royal hunt.
The hunt began. The soldiers surrounded the confused and furious lion with their spears and directed it towards the king. He, from his lofty location at the top of the pole tower, shot his arrows at the lion. The audience cheered enthusiastically with each arrow that was shot, and that seemed to infuriate the lion even more. The lion tried to charge the soldiers, but they escaped in time. After a while, the wounded lion collapsed on the bloodstained grass, numerous arrows protruding from its body. The soldiers of the king's guard surrounded it with their spears, in case it recovered and got up just when the king was coming down from the pole tower. The king grasped a bronze sword he had been given as a gift by the king of the Philistines, who were known as metal-smiths. He lifted the sword to plunge it in the lion's heart, but the lion beat him to it, and rose on its legs.
The king was forced to show great courage and fight the lion or be torn to shreds by his people. The soldiers of the guard understood this and refrained from interfering. His Majesty was a brave man; if he had not been as brave, he would not have survived the many years of his reign. He slashed at the face of the charging lion, and slipped away from its jaws at the last second. The lion, with its slashed nose and eyes, moved slowly because of the blood flowing from its wounds, turned in place and tried to charge again. The king escaped at the last second and plunged his sword in the lion's side. The sword was so strongly embedded, that the king could not get it out. He took a spear from the nearest soldier and waited for the next charge.
Mesopotamia - The Healer, the Slave and the Prince Page 5