by Jon Saboe
They proceeded down the hallway until Buan arrived at a large wooden double-door on the right. He pushed firmly on the doors and they swung open, revealing a large room, brilliantly lit by a huge opening to the sky which crossed the ceiling at a slight angle.
Peleg and Bernifal both gasped as they surveyed the room. Other than the Hall of Spheres back at the Citadel, Peleg had never seen such a large, enclosed area. And he had never seen anything decorated in such a lavish manner—especially in a building that was privately owned.
Lavish reclining divans for feasting lined the walls, along with several plush chairs. Large exotic plants hung from jeweled alabaster carvings which jutted out from the edges of the ceiling. They flowed like blossoming tapestries, outlining doorways which exited the room on both the left and right sides. On the far wall was a huge mosaic rendered in brightly colored semi-precious stones depicting the slaying of a large ušemšutum by someone who was obviously a great military leader. The huge animal walked only on its hind legs, since its front legs were too tiny to be of any use. One of these small legs was missing, and blood poured from the open wound in a splash of inlaid, crushed rubies.
But it was the huge eight-sided fountain in the center of the room that demanded their full attention. Arches of water shot from each corner into the center where they crashed together and fell into the waiting pool. Each spout emanated from a small carving of a demigoddess who carried an urn under her arms. Although the water rose upward out of the urns, the descending spray actually created an illusion of water pouring into their miniature vessels.
Peleg knew the story behind these mystical ladies. Each one represented a spirit who inhabited magical healing plants for different parts of the body, and according to the story, they were created in a garden created by Ninhursag, and anyone finding this garden and partaking from all eight of the plants would be free from all injury and malady and live forever.
Shem and Bernifal joined him in slowly circling the great fountain. As they walked, Peleg was suddenly startled as Shem began to laugh softly and shake his head.
Peleg glanced up at the large mosaic and noticed that the military man slaying the ušemšutum had numerous injuries, but that small images of the same mystical ladies could be seen ministering to his various wounds. Peleg was also familiar with this story, but was amused that the face of this great warrior had been replaced with the image of Enmerkar, the current ruler of Uruk and High Minister of Finance.
Buan spoke abruptly, and all three were suddenly aware of their grime and filth in stark contrast to the opulence in front of them.
“You will find baths and perfume rooms through those doorways,” he said to Peleg, “and I will send for food and clothing immediately.”
He nodded and pointed towards the doorways on either side of the room.
“Master Reu will want to speak with you as soon as he is available,” he added. “Be sure and make yourselves comfortable. It may be some time before he arrives.”
He smiled suddenly at all of them in a way that seemed forced to Peleg, and then he turned and left the room, heading down the hallway in the opposite direction from which they had come.
It was as if the bath had washed the past thirteen years of stress and anxiety from his mind. His travels, escapes, and questions were now a vaporous afterthought as Peleg relaxed in the eternal present, resting on a stone bench next to the large, square sunken bath where he had spent the last hour.
He had never seen so much opulence. He had heard of hot running water in some ministerial estates, but had never before experienced it. He was wrapped in a large, thick dark-blue robe which seemed to be a mix of tufted linen and cotton yarn. A golden embroidered crest adorned the left breast, bearing the same symbol that appeared on Buan’s signet ring. The room was filled with a clash of fragrances which had been unleashed when Peleg experimented with the various perfume canisters which rested on a shelf alcoved into the far wall.
A sudden pang of hunger washed through him, reminding him that he had eaten very little during the last three days. His chest and throat ached, but he refused to allow anything to upset his reverie. Food would be coming soon enough, and nothing was going to prevent his total contentment at this time.
He tried to quiet his thoughts, but was suddenly reminded that he was still choosing—using the volition that Shem had spoken of. Just like choosing to ignore his hunger. Somehow, he couldn’t escape such thoughts, and ironically, it was no good to choose not to think about it.
He shook his head, rejecting all introspection; choosing instead to think of nothing except the warm robe and the aromatic, humid room. And the pure enjoyment of simply being clean. Nothing else. Just the present. Except …
His son. Soon he would see Reu for the first time in over seventy years. There was no great emotional excitement for the anticipated reunion. Peleg had been forty-seven when the young seventeen-year-old Reu had headed for Uruk after learning he would never study at the Citadel. Back then, Peleg’s influence was not sufficient to gain Reu’s acceptance, and he remembered the sorrow he felt that his son would not be joining him there. Although he had fathered many sons and daughters since then, the Citadel was his true family, and he had long since lost any emotional connection with the firstborn that had left so many years ago. He was, however, curious about the apparent success Reu had attained, and also interested in hearing about a life devoted to the pursuit of wealth—although it was certainly a far lesser calling than a devotion to Knowledge.
With his eyes still closed, he shook his head to clear his thoughts and forced them to return to the present. Warm, humid room. Thick linen robe. Rest …
He awoke some time later with a stiff neck and a hunger that could no longer be ignored. Noises and smells from outside of his bath told him that food had arrived. He pulled his robe tightly around himself, and ventured back into the room where the eight demigoddesses collected their waters of eternal life from the sky.
Near the door where they had entered were silver trays piled with a variety of meats, fruits, and other items which Peleg couldn’t quite discern. The attendants who had brought the food were already gone, but before Peleg reached the table of food, new attendants brought in three suits of clothing that demonstrated the latest fashions of Uruk, and which certainly had a value far beyond anything Peleg could ever afford.
He suddenly realized that Shem and Bernifal were nowhere to be seen, and he turned around just in time to see each of them emerge from their baths, also wearing thick dark-blue robes. The gold crest glistened from their chests, and Peleg had to stifle a laugh when he saw how Shem’s robe barely reached his knees.
Soon they were wearing shirts, skirts, robes, and even undergarments all made from various textures of linen, and all perfectly fitted. Shem’s suit was a burgundy with gold and dark olive trim. Bernifal’s predominant color was amber and had a thin dark-blue swath down his left side and was trimmed with a sky-blue cord. Strangely to Peleg, neither seemed very impressed, and Bernifal actually looked very uncomfortable, walking awkwardly in small steps as if trying to adjust to the weight.
Peleg’s suit was obviously the most elaborate of the three. His outer robe was avocado colored with a large light-green collar and undershirt, and also included a sash which was bright gold with green embroidery along the edges. The end of the sash included a subtle sateen weave which, when the light caught it properly, displayed the same business crest as the robes and Buan’s ring. Three strips of light-green trim surrounded the hem of Peleg’s suit, and a small gold chain was fastened about the waist and appeared to aid in closing the robe, but on closer inspection, was simply for decoration. All three suits included a matching cord which actually secured the outfit at the waist.
Peleg suddenly realized he had left his travel pack in the bath and dashed back to reclaim it. It was where he had left it, and soon it was secured under his new clothing.
When he returned, new leather sandals which laced up to the knees were present
ed to each of them. The attendants then pointed to the assortment of food, and rushed wordlessly from the room.
The three men stared silently at each other for a brief moment, and then headed over to the trays. Peleg was very pleased with his outfit, but also felt awkward since he had never worn anything this splendid. He also desperately hoped he wouldn’t soil his new clothing while eating.
One tray was filled with large beef ribs which had been cooked in a corn wine, and were surrounded by rice sauce with mangoes and pears. Next to these was a tray of filleted pheasant and quail, along with a large salad of asparagus and broccoli in an almond sauce. Additional smaller trays held cheeses, olives, figs, and mustard dips. Empty silver plates and goblets rested near golden carafes of wine and wheat beer, and soon all three were filling their plates and retiring to the divans to eat and drink.
They were startled as Buan entered midway through their feast, dressed in a new, dark-orange suit with sewn-in jewelry which draped all the way to the floor. His outer cloak covered footwear which clicked against the marble tiles as he walked.
Shem looked sharply at Peleg and demanded, “Ask him when we will be able to meet your son, Reu!”
Before he could speak, Buan addressed Peleg.
“I’m afraid your son won’t be able to meet you at this time,” he said. “In fact, he has emissaries arriving at this moment from Aratta, and they will be here soon to refresh themselves.”
He waved his hand, indicating the room where they now ate.
“They will reside in this room for the night.”
“What is he saying?” Shem demanded as he and Peleg both rose from their reclining position. (Bernifal had not reclined on the divan, but instead remained seated awkwardly along its edge.)
“When will Reu arrive?” Peleg asked Buan, ignoring Shem.
“I’m afraid he won’t be available until late this evening,” answered Buan. “Right now, you must finish your meal immediately. I have been instructed to take you directly to master Reu’s residence where you will spend the night.”
“What is he saying?” demanded Shem for the second time.
“We must finish eating quickly and leave here,” said Peleg. “This room is needed for visiting businessmen, so they are moving us.”
“But when do we meet Reu?” insisted Shem in a manner that made Peleg want to reach up and strangle him.
Buan discerned the question and looked at Shem while speaking to Peleg.
“My master will meet you at his residence when he has completed his meetings late tonight.” He turned back to Peleg.
“I assure you he is looking forward to visiting with you very much,” said Buan, who seemed anxious, yet was making every effort to appear calm and comforting. Probably, Peleg thought, he was accustomed to impatient guests who demanded punctual audiences with his master.
They continued their feast as quickly as possible, making sure they did not spoil their new garments. Two additional aids joined Buan, and soon they were escorted from the room. However, this time they were led to the front of the building where they eventually passed through a large foyer arched in marble where finely dressed men and women were industriously conducting business. Commodity vouchers were being noisily exchanged as instructions were shouted to attendants who hurriedly scratched changes into the large clay charts which were mounted on the walls.
Peleg was pleased that their dress blended in perfectly with the traders as they pressed through the crowd. Soon they exited from the very door that they had been forbidden to enter earlier and found themselves back on the street in the late afternoon sun.
They followed Buan’s clicking shoes through the streets in a northerly direction. As they walked, Peleg couldn’t be sure, but it seemed as if the crowds parted slightly as they passed. Their path took them along the eastern side of Uruk’s Citadel, and after about twenty minutes of walking (proudly, Peleg was discovering, in his new clothes) they arrived at a small marble mansion which seemed to rise seamlessly from the city’s limestone base. Although not nearly as tall as the Citadel, it towered at least three stories above the surrounding structures.
Large hand-hewn steps rose to meet the entrance where an assortment of attendants and guards acknowledged Buan and waved them through.
Inside was a large courtyard which enclosed a beautiful sunken pool and an assortment of fountains—each with canopied benches nearby, and smaller fountains with goblets which appeared to offer fresh water. On closer inspection some of these miniature spouts seemed to dispense alternate, slightly more fermented offerings.
They walked under palm trees which were planted into the patio to the left of the pool. After passing under a large archway, they entered a large hallway which was paneled in imported cedar. Peleg had never seen wood used in such a fashion, and he wondered how many trees were needed to cover one wall.
He was startled suddenly as he passed a large opening on his right. It seemed to enter into another room also paneled in wood, but the lighting was strange—almost distorting his vision. But it wasn’t the room that startled him, but the unexpected approach of a man from the other side of the wall who almost collided with him.
He was a dark-skinned man with bright eyes, and was wearing a full, green garment with a gold chain. Both men stopped suddenly, immobilized at their unexpected proximity.
They looked into each other’s eyes for a split second until Peleg expanded his view. The man’s skin appeared slightly wrinkled with small areas of discoloration. Also, although the man was dressed in the finest clothing, his hair was unkempt—with graying tufts around the sides. Fortunately, it appeared to have been washed recently, but it was long and straggly—and very inconsistent with the man’s high-class attire.
Peleg had seen graying hair on only a few occasions; and only on people who were known to be a great deal older than average. On the man before him, it seemed somewhat frightening—as if it were a precursor to death. Peleg maintained his composure and bowed slightly in respect, lowering his eyes at the same time as the older gentleman also bowed.
But Peleg received his biggest surprise when he lifted his eyes again. Taking in an even broader view, he was shocked to see Shem, Bernifal, and Buan standing impossibly behind the gentleman. And as he slowly began to realize what was happening, Shem broke into his infuriating, loud, laughter. Peleg could see him shaking behind the man in the doorway, but heard the annoying sound coming from behind him, over his shoulder. He spun around (as the other gentleman also turned) and faced the gasping Shem angrily.
But there was nothing to say. Anger melted into embarrassment as he turned forcibly away from the others, focusing intently on the floor in front of him. He stomped after Buan who was now clicking several paces in front of them, and appeared to have noticed nothing.
Mirrors! He had seen mirrors before, but they were usually used for signaling (or applying cosmetics), and were quite small with handles or small hooks for hanging. They were made from polished bronze or tin, but he had never expected to see one covering an entire section of wall! Or polished to such a perfect glaze
From the corner of his eye he noticed that these mirrored panels were at regular intervals along the hallway, separated by brilliant tapestries and an occasional alcove containing an embedded fresco or small sculpture.
His chagrin boiled inside, but although he was mortified at being fooled by a mirror, a deeper anxiety started to fester within. He had been walking proudly with his new attire, allowing his clothing to generate an air of superiority and sophistication as he self-consciously imagined that people were watching him with esteem and admiration.
The charade was dashed. He had just seen a weary, aging traveler pretending to dress as a successful businessman. And the people whose approval he had imagined, now (again in his imagination) had probably been mocking him as he passed.
Mercifully they finally reached the end of the hallway where Buan separated two large tapestries and escorted them into a small room on the right.
“You may wait here,” announced Buan, speaking to Peleg, “until my master returns home from his summit.”
He gave a quick wave around the room.
“You will stay here for the night,” he said, suddenly flashing a warm smile. “Please do not wander too far off.”
With that, his smile winked out as quickly as it appeared. He turned with a swirl of his cape, exited the arched doorway, and turned left; parting the tapestries they had just passed through.
The room contained simple but pleasant living quarters with three divans, a small table and oil-lamp, and a doorway to the left which was certain to be an area for relieving and washing oneself. A large skylight with wooden slats allowed the late afternoon sun to fill the room with sharp angles of dusty light.
Shem was the first to speak.
“Peleg,” he began cautiously. “I truly must apologize for laughing at you in the hallway.”
He stopped to await a response, but Peleg simply sat on one of the divans and shrugged his shoulders.
Shem sat on the divan opposite Peleg, but it was to low for him, and his knees were forced up almost to the height of his shoulders. Bernifal disappeared into the adjoining room.
“You must understand,” he continued. “When I saw you bowing to yourself, it was simply too humorous. You would have been forced to laugh, also, had you seen it.”
Peleg smiled in spite of himself.
“I did see it,” he said, finally, with a shake of his head.
Shem gave a sigh of relief.
“I am glad you are no longer angry,” he said.
Peleg said nothing, but continued staring at the floor. A clash of emotions coursed through his system. He was happy and relaxed at being so close to home. None of the fears or anxieties which were with him perpetually on his expedition remained.