Read Mesopotamia - The Redeemer Online
Authors: Yehuda Israely,Dor Raveh
Tags: #god, #psychology, #history, #religion, #philosophy, #mythology, #gnosis, #mesopotamia, #pythagoras, #socratic
The narrow passage leading down to
the pit could not accommodate the width of the litter. Four of the
stronger slaves of the group held His Eminence's thighs and arms
and carried him on their hands down the slope of the passage. Their
colleagues waited outside the pit and guarded the litter while two
guardsmen kept an eye on them. A litter must never be left
unattended. Any novice assassin would seize the opportunity to
sprinkle volatile and toxic oils in the litter for Seruf to inhale
the fumes and perish. He certainly had no shortage of enemies or
conspirators who wished him harm.
Every week at the usual time of
Seruf's visit, the chief watchman in charge of the pit would order
the lighting of the torches lining the passage. At a depth of six
cubits below ground level, the paved path ended opposite two tall
doors made of thick oak reinforced with bronze bolts.
When the door opened, a heavy
miasma emerged from within: the stench of the slaves in the pit.
His Excellency rose to his feet and paced along the balcony
platform that encircled the perimeter of the pit. He looked down
toward the dozens of slaves crowded inside. The walls of the pit
were smoothed over with mud and the bottom was filled with water.
Not all slaves were thrown into the pit. Most of the king's slaves
were employed in various tasks. Of these slaves, the ones who were
in a waiting period, having been recently captured or marked to be
sold, were held in a walled camp above ground. The pit was set
aside for particular slaves: the especially strong slaves, whose
owners feared their violent resistance; slaves who had been
separated from their family and could potentially run away in
search of them; or slaves who were simply subjected to the whims of
their masters. Slaves who presented an obvious threat were put to
death.
Seruf sensed a thrill in
anticipation of his favorite game. Into his pudgy hand the chief
taskmaster placed the pigskin ball wrapped around a circle of clay
and fastened tightly with sinews. The eunuch clearly enjoyed his
ability to instill fright and apprehension in the slaves. With a
wholly derisive smile, he held the ball over the pit and watched
the leaping slaves trying to catch the ball. When he was
sufficiently entertained, he flung the ball into the pit.
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 days 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.