Mesopotamia - The Redeemer (49 page)

“Here is the promissory note.” From
within the folds of his robe, the eunuch removed a tablet bearing
inscriptions testifying that the king's officials are guarantors to
the financial obligations for the debt to the lender. “I won't keep
you any longer, my friend. You have your work cut out for you,
purchasing a worthy slave. Just one word of advice.”

“Gladly, my master.” Eo was
thinking about how the eunuch's shrill voice reminded him of the
squeaking rats in the sewers.

“Ever since one of Savsesser's
slaves escaped, slave prices have plummeted. I suggest you buy your
slave without delay. That way you can get a slave at the lowest
price and keep the sack of coins for yourself.”

“Thank you, my master.”

The eunuch gestured toward the door
with his hand, rang the small copper bell and waved goodbye with
his pudgy fingers laden with gold rings. The sentry opened the door
form the outside and Eo exited, taking care not to overtly break
out in a run as he stifled a sigh of relief.

Savsesser spared no effort in
hosting Eo. Eo had already become accustomed to the honor showered
upon him by those whose health depended on him; the embarrassment
of those whose social status was below his own; and even the
apprehension displayed by those who did not understand his
practice, wary of his abilities to communicate with demons and
spirits. Savsesser's attitude was different. He was a wealthy man,
a landowner and slave owner, but in Eo's presence he became
remarkably servile: he yelled at the slaves to hasten to bring the
esteemed guest chilled pomegranate juice, barley liquor and smoked
strips of lamb. He spoke in obsequious praise of Eo, 'the most
distinguished healer that Uruk has ever known'.

Eo knew how to filter the truth.
This flattery was an integral part of the business, as the eunuch
had mentioned—a relationship between buyer and seller in a buyer's
market.

They sat under the grape arbor,
sipping liquor and chewing smoked meat as they observed the toiling
slaves.

“I have two Nubian slaves, built
for long hours of field labor under the blazing Shamash. You can
see them there in the line of harvesters, the two on the far right.
What do you think?”

“They certainly look industrious.
How long have you had them?”

“The tall one for two years and the
shorter one—a year. If you need especially vigorous slaves I'll
give you a special price for one of them, just for you.”

“And who else is for sale?”

“I have a number of fine
maidservants, excellent for both field and house labor. If your
wife does not object, I'll suggest the best one for you,” winked
Savsesser and laughed deeply with his entire mouth: his gums were
almost empty, with only a few rotten teeth remaining.

Eo ignored the joke. “No, thank
you. I am looking for a slave.”

“And maybe you'd like to purchase a
boy, who you can mold like potter's clay?”

“No thank you, my honorable
Savsesser. Just a simple slave.”

“If that's the case then, I'll show
you the merchandise. But first, eat and drink. It is an honor for
me to host you in the shade of my arbor. More meat and juice!” he
yelled out to a slave, who leapt to the kitchen as if his life
depended on it.

“I offer you heartfelt thanks for
your substantial generosity, but I have eaten and drunk enough. If
you are ready, let us take a stroll through your property.”

Savsesser rose to his feet and
moved with a limp, supported by his staff while leaning with his
other arm over Eo. Savsesser looked older than his forty five
years. His right knee had already collapsed under the weight of his
heavyset body. When he spoke, his beady eyes darted from side to
side and Eo wondered if he was plotting something while he
continued to heap flattery upon him. Eo breathed deeply and thanked
him in return, expressing astonishment at the beauty of his fruit
trees, the sweetness of the water in his canals, the swollen stalks
of barley and the diligence of his slaves. Savsesser greedily drank
in every compliment.

“Call him!” Savsesser ordered the
slave that was escorting him and pointed his staff toward the edge
of the field. The slave set off in a sprint and returned with one
of the slaves by his side.

“Yes, my master,” said the slave
with his head lowered.

Savsesser did not answer him. “He
is one of the most diligent slaves. Assyrian origin. You can see
that he manages double the quota and leaves his fellow slaves in
his dust. Come closer and examine the fine condition he's in.”
Savsesser peeled back the lips of the slave, who stood at
attention, revealing straight white teeth. He pressed his thumb
into the fold of his elbow and demonstrated the speed at which the
muscle moved back in place without leaving a mark. Finally, he
struck the slave's side with his staff to demonstrate his obedience
and ability to absorb blows. Savsesser forcibly grabbed the
Assyrian's jaw and turned his gaze to Eo.

Eo saw depths of despair within the
slaves dimmed eyes. He restrained himself from reacting to
Savsesser's harshness and regretted that he could afford only one
slave.

“He really makes an excellent
impression, but he is surely more expensive than the other slaves
and I have no need for a slave this strong. I am ready to see the
other candidates.” But the slave's gaze had pierced his soul.

“How much are you willing to pay?”
ventured Savsesser.

“I prefer to see the others,”
sidestepped Eo. He was not a natural merchant and was wary of
negotiation.

“As you wish. Let me show you the
slaves who are occupied with the olive harvest.”

Between the furrows of barley grew
the orchard trees: pomegranates, crab apples, sycamores, figs,
almonds, apricots and a number of olive trees. When Savsesser and
Eo approached them, the boys stopped smacking the tree branches.
Savsesser signaled the biggest one of them to come forward and he
ran over. He stood before them, his entire body tense and
trembling, assuming he was about to be whipped.

“This slave is of Semitic Amorite
origin, twelve years old, speaks Sumerian and Akkadian. He was
brought to me by his sharecropper parents as payment for their
crops. Don't worry about him escaping—his parents' lives are at
stake as they are collateral for his loyalty. He is diligent and
quiet and I am sure that he will be of good use to you.”

Eo felt distressed by the slave's
suffering and wondered if it was best for him to just give up on
the whole idea. He had no interest in joining the ranks of slave
masters, recoiling at the practice of separating a child from his
parents to sentence him to a lifetime of slavery. Maybe it would be
best if he didn't take an apprentice; perhaps Kishmi would be
upset, but surely she would understand once he explained to her
what he had witnessed in Savsesser's estate.

“Allow me to think it over, my
honorable Savsesser. I have seen more than enough and now I must
consider.”

“If the cost is too much for you, I
am certain that we can reach a compromise.”

The boy shot Eo an entreating
glance, his eyes pleading, 'Buy me at any price, and just get me
out of here.'

“Thank you, your honor. Obviously,
I would not purchase a slave that was outside my price range;
however, cost is not my only concern. I need to reconsider my own
needs and I shall return to you shortly.”

“You shan't find healthier or more
diligent slaves with any of the other landowners. Just promise me
one thing.”

“And what is that?”

“That when you return, you state
the price that you see fit, before approaching other landowners.
They are merciful and their slaves are in turn lazy. You will not
find harder working or more obedient slaves in all of Uruk.”

“I offer you my most heartfelt
thanks and shall consider your words positively.”

“If so, then I am satisfied. Let me
escort you back.”

As they approached the gate of the
property, Eo noticed something that had been hidden from him when
he arrived. Chained to the stone wall to the right of the gate was
a swarthy slave, spread-eagle, back bleeding, streaked with whip
lashes and swarming with flies.

“Who's that?” inquired Eo.

“A rebellious slave, whose penalty
is death.”

“What is his crime?”

“Assisting in the escape of a
slave.”

“How do you know?”

“I have no proof, but the chief
taskmaster told me that he was the slave's best friend, so it's
impossible that he was not involved in the escape plan. It seems
that he pretended to suffer from acute stomach pain and distracted
the taskmasters just as his friend was escaping. Slaves are
obligated to hand over another slave who is planning to escape the
moment the knowledge becomes available to them, and if not, their
sentence is death. He was interrogated the entire night and did not
admit to anything. I would have let him die last night but I hoped
that he would reveal the destination of the escaped slave. We'll
leave him here until he talks or until the flies, ants and cattle
egrets finish the work for us. Had he talked, he would have been
entitled to a quick death by the sword.”

“Has his friend been captured
yet?”

The question embarrassed Savsesser,
who stammered an answer. “He disappeared yesterday and I am sure
that by tomorrow night, the slave hunters will have found him, dead
or alive.”

“How did he escape?” Eo felt a sort
of satisfaction hearing about the slave's escape and the slave
owner's consequent embarrassment.

“We, uh... we don't know,”
stuttered Savsesser.

“May I examine this slave?”

“You want to buy a rebellious
slave?” Savsesser asked incredulously.

“I want to examine him,” replied Eo
politely but firmly.

The baffled Savsesser did not know
what to say.

“If you do not wish to sell to me,
then I will be on my way.”

“No, no, please, examine them all,”
said the master, coming to his senses.

Rukha wished he were dead. With
each lash of the whip he prayed to die before the next lash. From
time to time he sunk into flights of fancy, imagining that he had
already died and was meeting Dagon, God of his fathers, crowned
with fish scales. Dagon asked him: “Would you still have helped
Timin had you known the fate that awaited you?” Sometimes he
answered yes and other times no; but then he thought of Timin's
abounding loyalty, how he endangered himself time after time on
Rukha's behalf. He then settled into contentedness, at peace with
his choice and its aftermath.

'I knew what awaited me,' he
thought.

“What is your name?” He heard
Dagon's voice. He was taken aback, since the God surely knows his
creations.

“What is your name?” repeated
Dagon.

“Rukha,” he muttered inaudibly.

“What? I cannot hear you.”

“Rukha,” he tried to repeat his
name in a louder voice. 'Dagon cannot hear? It cannot be!' The
sharp pain in his lacerated back and his weary joints struck him at
once as he was jolted back to reality.

“Rukha?” asked the stranger.

“Yes,” he replied indifferently,
staring into the stranger's eyes.

Eo knew immediately and without a
doubt that that this was the slave he had been looking for.

“He's practically dead,” Savsesser
gestured with his staff toward Rukha.

“I do not wish to waste more of
your time, your honor, and thank you for your hospitality. You may
return now to your important occupations. I shall stay another
moment with the slave before going on my way, if you do not
mind.”

“As you wish, and like I already
said, return to me before you approach the other slave owners. I am
certain we can reach a favorable compromise.”

“Thank you, thank you.” Eo held his
breath in hopes of avoiding Savsesser's foul stench as they rubbed
noses in parting. Savsesser called to one of his slaves and began
limping toward the shaded arbor, supported by a slave and his
staff.

Link to "Mesopotamia – The Healer,
the Slave and the prince" book page

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/291348