“The judges of the underworld, the elders and wise men who decide the fates of the demons and spirits, held a meeting to discuss my case. A great dispute was struck up between the judges. There were those who emphasized my unacceptable actions and there were those who emphasized my good intentions. Kumbaba, the terrible demon, requested that I be placed into slavery as punishment. Not one creature in the entire underworld could muster the courage to defend me and stand up to Kumbaba's furious wrath. Anonki, presiding judge of the netherworld, finally decided that the Gods and demons serving in the netherworld should be judged in the same manner in which they judge the spirits of the dead—on the basis of their actions and not on their intentions. They sentenced me to return to my work chopping wood, but now as Kumbaba's slave.
“I accepted my sentence, but the loss of my freedom was too heavy for me to bear. Without the ability to choose how to conduct my life, I was left devoid of it. My blade became dull and my arms limp. With each additional tree I felled, I became filled with the decision to flee to my freedom. Using my copper ax, I bribed Siluigi, demon of the ferry, to take me across the river that consumes men and demons. In the twilight hours, when the gates of the netherworld are open to welcome Shamash, I distracted Neti, guardian of the netherworld, with intoxicating cedar incense and escaped to the middle world, the dwelling place of humans.
“The solitude was even bitterer than slavery. I was a stranger in the middle world. The netherworld is my home. I am tormented with longing for the cedar forest, the soot of the furnaces and the whispering magical incense. I miss the sounds of the beating ax and the rushing of the water underneath the ferry. I miss the work songs of the woodsmen and the hellish warmth of the depths of the earth. I longed to return to the netherworld, to my home. Only with your help, sons of man, can I return to my world as a free creature.
“While wandering through the land, in the barley fields, I recognized Enmerkar, son of Meskiagasher, King of Uruk. He was blessing the land in the name of the Gods. I decided to reside within him because, like me, his love for his work distracted him and he remained in the fields after sunset. I chose him because, like me, his intentions were good but his actions were improper. He wanted to bless the land, but did so at twilight. That is the time when we come out and possess men, taking advantage of the fact that the gates of the netherworld are open to receive Shamash. I chose him because his father is a king who has the power to be heard in the temple of the Gods. He has the ability to make me heard by Nergal, my king. I chose the young crown heir because, like me, he felt a sense of slavery—he felt chained to the dynasty of kings established by his father in Uruk. He was bound by the restrictions to which kings are obligated. He cannot drink water unless it is from the king's well; he cannot associate with the people of the city; when his time comes to rule, he cannot deviate from his duty to do justice, to sentence those deserving of it to death; when his time comes to lead Uruk's army into battle, he shall not be able to avoid slaughter and killing. And his soul is so delicate.
“I chose the prince because he is also a slave, a slave to the royal dynasty, although his soul yearns to be a regular man. Like me, his thoughts are innocent but his actions are dark. The prince walked as a righteous man following a straight path, neither deviating right nor left, but in his soul he had removed the boundaries of the Gods by neglecting his obligations as a cruel conqueror in the future; as a conqueror, who will spread wisdom throughout the city states. I also ignored the boundaries of Kumbaba by chopping trees from his garden, but in my heart I was faithful to my work.
“I attached myself to his fate so that I could be tried along with him—the highest prince of the land, the son of the God's chosen one. I knew that if I were to choose him, the men of Earth would listen to my pleas that emerged from him and be my advocates in the netherworld. If the Gods forgive the prince on account of his pure intentions, acquitting the crown heir by the merit of your prayers and lifting my punishment from him, then they must uphold a parallel judgment system between the humans and the demons, thereby freeing me from my slavery and returning me to the land in which I belong.”
Only Rukha noticed that underneath his front of confident composure, Eo was anxiously unsettled. As an apprentice, Rukha could not appreciate the greatness of the discovery. He did not know that even Eo had never encountered a demon in such a direct manner.
Meskiagasher and Partakhti his queen were horrified by the news of their son's condition. A glimmer of hope stirred in the queen's heart, but the king trembled as he thought about the tremendous powers the healer must face. 'I hope that Eo's abilities will serve him well,' he thought.
Seruf the eunuch and Murdoch the vizier, sworn enemies vying for closeness with the king, sat opposite each other across the long royal table, exchanging phony smiles and words of respect devoid of any meaning. When the sentry at the entrance announced the king's presence, they stood to their feet, along with eight of the senior advisors of His Majesty Meskiagasher. Seruf clutched the curse in his pocket and squinted at Murdoch, trying to ascertain his state of health. 'The curse was too weak,' he told himself. 'I must speak again with the stupid healer.' Meskiagasher briskly approached the chair at the head of the table and gestured to the others to sit down as he took a seat. Murdoch the vizier felt a sense of confidence as he clutched the clay marble that Eo had given him to serve as a protective charm against the eunuch's curse. In his head, Seruf reveled at the image of the slaves trampling each other as they tried to reach the leather ball.
“You are all aware of my high regard for Eogulades, the oil healer, and are familiar with his efforts to cure my son, Enmerkar,” said the king.
Everyone present nodded mechanically.
“According to Eogulades, my son's illness is none other than the result of a demon or spirit that possesses him.”
The men's mouths widened and gasped in surprise and concern, though only a few of the expressions were actually genuine.
The king, who had become expertly accustomed to the feigned responses of his entourage, continued. “Eogulades made it clear to me that the demon possessing my son is none other than a slave, attempting to win his freedom.” The king paused for a moment so his words could sink in and then proceeded. “And in order to pave the way for my son's release from the demon, we must support the release of the demon from his slavery. You will probably tell me that this is the responsibility of the oil healer!”
The men nodded, “Yes, yes, the oil healer.”
“And so, the oil healer is conducting meetings with the upper world and the netherworld. We must do something in the middle world.” The audience quivered apprehensively for what was to come next. “For a while now, I have been deliberating making some changes to the slavery laws. I see the involvement of the Gods of the netherworld as a sort of message. The Gods are telling me to implement these changes.”
The vizier preempted the eunuch in his show of dedication to the king.
“We must do something for the sake of Uruk's slaves,” said the vizier.
“I am glad that someone here understands this,” said the king as a compliment to the vizier and a jab at the rest of them.
“Yes, yes, we must do something for Uruk's slaves,” repeated all of the sycophants, aside from the eunuch, who sat in silence.
“What do you think, eunuch?” asked the king.
“Indeed, we must pacify the demon slave and do something for the slaves,” said the eunuch halfheartedly.
“What do you suggest?” the king asked the eunuch with veiled sarcasm.
“Well,” began the eunuch with mock gravity, while deliberately pausing to calculate the minimum concession he could offer without angering the king. “Well, we could release more slaves from the pit each week.”
The king was silent. The eunuch understood that he had erred in offering too meager a proposal and hastened to correct it. “Much more.”
“Maybe we should release many more prisoners of war as part of the peace deals w
ith the surrendering parties,” said the vizier. “That way, we gain them as allies on our side.”
The vizier was betting on the likelihood that the king would be happy with this suggestion as well as the financial perks involved. The vizier also knew that the suggestion would enrage the eunuch, who pocketed money with each prisoner that was sold.
“I think that this is an excellent idea, Vizier,” said the king.
“Yes, yes, truly a great idea,” they concurred obsequiously.
“Minister of War,” the king turned to the commander. “You must cancel the executions and the slave auctions that were planned this week for the Amorite captives.”
“As you wish, my King,” said the Minister of War, his head bowed humbly as he tried to hide his disapproval as best as he could. The jeering smile of the eunuch, which had been wiped from his face at the beginning of the meeting, was replaced by a bleak and embittered expression.
“Is this enough for you?” the king prodded them.
They all benefited in some manner from the slaves, either from their ransom or their sale; without sufficient fawning, however, their lives were hanging in the balance. “No, it is not enough,” the murmurs rose from around the table. Only the eunuch was silent. He knew the correct answers, but despite this, he still could not overcome his greed.
“Yes, my honorable eunuch,” the king turned to him. “As the Slave Minister, what else can we do for our slaves, in your opinion?”
“The situation is a very delicate one, my king,” the eunuch squirmed. “Every concession we make for the benefit of the slaves will ignite the wrath of the lords, and we depend on them to supply our soldiers from the tenants of their estates.”
“It seems as if you do not understand the importance of the crown heir to the throne,” chided the king.
“Yes, yes, the exalted crown heir.” Sweat poured off his forehead. The sycophants exulted in his misfortune. They also knew that as long as the king's pressure was directed at the eunuch, they were momentarily safe from the danger that the king would turn on them.
“I think that we should free approximately half of the slaves in the pit,” conceded the eunuch. Though it pained him greatly, he was prepared to relinquish a portion of the enjoyment he derived by watching the sadistic games. He hoped that he would not be forced to part with his money.
“Slave Minister,” the king addressed him. “You must bid farewell to your beloved game and release all of the slaves from the pit!”
He did not dare hesitate. “Yes, my king,” said the eunuch in a broken voice, comforting himself in the thought that he might manage to squeeze in a game or two before carrying out the order.
“Also,” he addressed all of them, “I am prepared to enact sweeping leniencies and ameliorate the conditions of all of the slaves in the kingdom, if that is in fact what is needed for Eogulades to heal my son.”
“Of course, of course,” echoed the obsequious chorus.
“Vizier,” said the king.
“Yes, your highness,” Murdoch met his gaze without flattery.
“I appoint you to be responsible over the implementation of this plan, as well as the preparation of a proposal discussing changes in slaves' conditions.”
The eunuch had previously enjoyed exclusive command over the slaves. The king had just enacted a blatant change. He knew that he could not rely on Seruf to accurately carry out the agreement and took advantage of the opportunity to rearrange the chain of command. He placed the vizier above the eunuch, including in his duties regarding the slaves. The king knew that the eunuch would be humiliated; that was precisely his intention. He hoped that all those present would understand that if they did not properly fulfill what was expected of them, they would not be able to maintain their positions.
“I request that you make a trip to my office immediately following the end of this meeting,” smile the vizier in gratification of his new position.
“Yes, my master,” the humiliated eunuch muttered angrily.
For the third time, the king's servants prepared the stove of burning coals, the sesame oil, the clay water basin, the small jug of tar and a jug with a perforation that would serve as a water clock. This time, the oil healer did not request the sandalwood incense but rather cedar incense mixed with intoxicating galbanum. Once again, the room was sealed with wooden boards to soundproof it and prevent the palace's neighbors from hearing the sounds of Enmerkar's demon. Eo was afraid that the king would not grant his request, but knew that without the consent of the king he could not act of his own discretion.
The king debated for some time and then finally agreed. In an unprecedented manner, Eo and Rukha were sealed inside the room alone with the prince.
Eo helped Rukha spread the sesame oil and tar over himself. He tied the demon mask to his head and coached him on how he should act based on the agreed signals. After Eo donned the mask, he sat the prince cross-legged in the center of a circle of twelve oil wicks. Eo sat opposite him, inside the circle.
Rukha lit the wicks and scattered the cedar resin and galbanum on the smoldering coal stove. He then placed the stove inside the circle and sat behind Prince Enmerkar. He stacked a pile of wet clay tablets and a stylus to the side of them. When the room had filled with the scent of the galbanum, Eo removed the mask, placed his forehead against Enmerkar's own and laid his hands on his shoulders. He hummed a slow, simple tune in a low, quiet voice while rocking from side to side. By doing so, he drew himself and the prince into a trance until the words emerged from within him.
Kumbaba, Kumbaba, Kumbaba
Come show your face,
Kumbaba, Kumbaba, Kumbaba,
Come show your face...
The trance deepened. Eo, in a twilight state between waking and dreaming, continued to beckon Kumbaba for a long time. Eo jolted awake as soon as he felt a change taking place. The prince sat erect and stretched. It appeared as if his shoulders had widened. His forehead became furrowed, his eyebrows twitched and a menacing look came into his eyes.
Eo pulled his forehead away from the prince and pressed his right temple to the prince's. The price opened his mouth and an unfamiliar voice emerged. Rukha was ready to record any unintelligible syllable he could hear, but the voice, which was not that of the prince, spoke in his language. It spoke in fluent Sumerian, in the local dialect of the Urukian aristocracy.
“Who so brazenly disturbs the slumber of Kumbaba, the terrible and awesome demon?”
“I am a human. Eogulades, the oil healer,” replied Eo calmly.
“What do you want, human? How dare you disturb Kumbaba! Do you desire the deadly cedar fire of my breath?” The demon raised his voice.
“You enslaved Layil, the demon,” continued Eo in the same tone of voice.
“And what is it to you, mortal? You came from dust and will return to dust. What do you care about issues between the demons?”
“Layil the demon has possessed Prince Enmerkar, the son of his almighty kingship Meskiagasher, King of Uruk. I am the boy's healer.” Eo continued as he firmly pressed his temple against Enmerkar's, while his arms pressed down on the boy's shoulders.
“I do not interfere with human matters. It is not my problem if the sinful Layil clings to a simple slave or to an exalted prince.”
“Release Layil so that he can release the prince!” said Eo in a confident voice.
“Stay out of my business or I'll interfere with yours, you rotten maggot food,” Kumbaba's voice intensified.
“Release Layil so he can release the prince!” Eo intentionally ignored the demon's words and repeated his own in a low, firm voice. He pressed his temple more firmly into the prince's temple and felt their sweat mixing together as he grabbed the prince's neck with his right hand. “You are an inferior and weak demon,” provoked Eo.
“I shall kill you for your insolence, you wormy human!”
“You are an inferior and weak demon, deriving pleasure from the suffering of your loyal servant.”
“How d
are you! Your tongue—”
Eo cut him off and continued speaking. “You are an inferior and weak demon. You do not deserve your position in the netherworld. You do not deserve to be counted as one of the rulers because you are a slave to your own cruel delights.”
“I shall tear you to pieces and singe your flesh in the fires of Hell!” yelled the demon, quickly grabbing Eo's neck. Eo strengthened his grip and ignored the pain in his wrist. “The cruelty of human beings is unmatched by anything occurring among the animals, Gods or demons. How many souls has king Meskiagasher slaughtered? How many severed heads has he scattered in the battlefields?”
Eo deliberately ignored these words and returned the topic of conversation to the demon. “The pleasure that you derive from the suffering of another demon demonstrates how despicable you are, how much the envy gnaws at you inside—your envy for humans that walk on earth!”
“I shall inflict you with curses, ridicule and maleficence!” roared the demon as he dug his nails into Eo's skin.
“You have no power at all. Those who would ridicule and cause harm do not heed your command. Ever since you abandoned the woodsman, you removed yourself from the underworld order and all of your servants have abandoned you!”
Eo was betting on the reaction that his words would elicit: he did not yet know if Kumbaba did in fact have these supporters at his disposal, but he did know that these things could only damage the veneer of arrogance he wore. The humility that sometimes made it difficult for him to interact with other people now acted as a protection in his encounters with other worldly beings. The shock that Eo caused the demon began to show its effectiveness. He could not speak out of shock and Eo seized the opportunity.
“The rage, the jealousy, the arbitrariness, the arrogance, the ingratitude: these are the evildoers and mockers that are coursing through your veins,” said the healer slowly and quietly.
“The mockers are like the hair on my body,” he laughed demonically.
Mesopotamia - The Healer, the Slave and the Prince Page 9