New Day - Chapter 4 (PG-13)

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Penina Spinka
Freelance freshie
Posts: 226
Joined: Sat Jan 24, 2009 10:10 pm
Location: Sun City Arizona, USA

New Day - Chapter 4 (PG-13)

Post by Penina Spinka »

I have been revising. If you read this, please be good enough to review. Thank you. Penina

New Day
(2521 words)
Chapter 4


I waited until the other guests had eaten and retired to their rooms before I presented myself to the innkeeper. “I’m Radu, physician to the court. Do you have a merchant here who uses the name Miceas?” Though I spoke softly, he tensed. Royal physicians did not often enter his hostelry.

“Is there some trouble, Lord Physician?” he asked, swallowing nervously. I wondered what he had to hide.

“None at all,” I tried to assure him. I’m merely interested in what he has to sell. Would you be good enough to send for him?” I put it in the form of a request, but as I intended, he took it as a command. He spoke immediately to a slave who promptly climbed the narrow staircase to give the foreigner my message.

The first I saw of the trader were his long legs as he descended. They were clad separately in baggy leggings of dark blue fabric that rose from his ankles to where his legs joined his trunk. I learned the word for it later, but it was the first time I saw the northerner version of pants. They were a Phrygian invention that had yet to catch on in Babylonia. Barbarian, I thought. His sleeved tunic was dark blue as well. It was gathered in the front by a narrow belt. Miceas was so tall; he had to bend to avoid hitting his head on the low ceiling above the stairs. His hair was wrapped in a loose covering of deep blue, tied around with a decorative band of green embroidered over cream-colored linen. He peered through the dim, smoky room. “I’m Miceas,” he said to the room in general. “Who asked for me?”

I stepped into the late afternoon light that entered the narrow windows. “I did. I’m Radu, physician to the court. Please join me at my table for a cup of wine.”

He seemed suspicious. I waited for him to acquiesce. “Thank you,” he said at last. He spoke in an accent common northwest of Babylon. “A cup of wine will help me sleep.”

He took the opposite seat so we could see each other. I came straight to the point. “I hear you’re a merchant in gems and fine metals. I would like you to show me some of your pieces. I might be interested in purchasing one or two.”

The common room was nearly empty. The other guests were just going to bed. Only the innkeeper and we two remained. He poured our wine and brought left the bottle on the table. While we sat and drank, dusk descended. The innkeeper lit the oil lamps, which brightened the room better than had the late sun. Over the rim of his cup, Miceas met my gaze. To someone who didn’t know better, he seemed the more powerful, broader in the shoulder, slim-waisted, with powerful arms. Certainly, he was younger, being not much over 20 years of age by my guess.

“I’ve heard good things about your merchandise,” I said. “You travel far to sell it. Have you insufficient customers in Nineveh?”

“I’ve already supplied my customers at home and had to travel to find new ones. I hear Babylonians have a taste for fine things and money to pay for them. This has turned out to be a profitable journey.” The Lydians had introduced metal coinage to Babylonia some time back. They were more easily dealt with than goods, but enough coins to cover his purchases would be difficult to carry. I wondered if he was paid in another type of currency and what it might be.

“Do you manufacture your own goods?” I asked.

“I’m merely a distributor of fine pieces to decorate the wrists and arms of the discriminating buyer. There is an artisans’ factory in Nineveh. The workers follow the patterns ordered by the designer. I have a few samples for sizing, and copies of designs and colors, but nothing more to sell until my next trip to Babylon.”

“You do realize people who have the means leave Babylon in the summer. We will be in Ekbatana in the mountains during the hot months.” Humans could barely tolerate a Babylonian summer. It was much more unpleasant for one of my kind.

“Well, then I must go to Ekbatana if I’m ready to travel again before winter. I won’t return to Babylon until it is cool,” he said. “Thank you for the advice. I would be pleased to show you what I have although it is not much, Lord Physician. If you will follow me to my room, we’ll be able to see the designs and work in a better light. I have two oil lamps.” We finished our wine and I paid the innkeeper.

I followed Miceas up the narrow brick staircase to his room on the second level. I would have expected a dealer in gems to have a better room, but I could see he did not want to draw attention. His room was modest with barely enough floor space for the bed. The room contained a small chest for his personal items and goods. A narrow window allowed ventilation. The crescent moon was visible through the nearly closed wooden shutter. Miceas carried a taper from the coals of his brazier to light the oil lamps. He must have paid extra for the oil. I saw no illumination from other rooms. Miceas gestured toward the bed. “It’s the only place to sit,” he said in apology. “I was not expecting company.”

I waited while he bent over his travel chest. When he straightened, his head grazed the low ceiling. “Babylonians are shorter than Ninevans,” he said by way of conversation. He looked at me. “Are you Babylonian?”

I did not intend to tell him where I was from. “I have made my home here for now. Show me what you have.” He handed me two sheets of stiffened linen. “Here are the designs and here are chips of the gems I can supply.”

Designs were painted on the linen in the forms of outrageous animals. On one was a stylized dragon, which is usually associated with the sky god Anu. The second showed a large fish about to swallow a man. Above and below the representations was something that looked like writing, but in a form I had never seen. There was cuneiform in Babylon - wedge shaped words I could read, and hieroglyphs, picture writing, in Egypt. This was neither. I had seen enough of Egyptian writing to recognize it, but even in Egypt, few aside from the scribes could read it. It took years of study. “Are these words?” I asked, tracing the inked design. “Do they mean something?”

“Perhaps. I don’t know.” His heartbeat increased. I didn’t believe him. “Here are bracelets and armlets, but they have no designs or gems. They are not for sale, but for sizing,” he said and dropped several onto the bed beside me. My first inclination was to pick up a silver armlet and slip it on. I thought of buying one for Serali. “Women usually like silver,” he said. “It’s Ishtar’s color, for the silvery color of the moon.”

“Of course,” I said. I’d seen silver. More often gold was used in statuary and decoration. The coinage of the kingdom was baked clay disks with holes for cords. They were embossed with the king’s seal. If anyone were caught copying the king’s seal without authorization, the perpetrator would be fed to the king’s fiery furnace. The threat was a good deterrent, although I’d never seen it carried out.

Silver inlay would have been common on Ishtar’s temple walls, but few men entered there, except for the eunuchs who polished the holy statues, burned incense for the Lady and served the goddess’s women. The armlet felt too warm. As I stared at it, the discomfort became worse until it felt like I was wearing nettles around my arm. I yanked it off and dropped it on the bed. A quick glance at my arm showed me blisters. I pushed down my sleeve to cover them, but did my best to hide my concern.

“Is there a problem?” Miceas asked.

My skin still tingled. I had never experienced anything like this before. I listened to Miceas’ heart and lungs. The rate of neither increased. If there was some spell involved that would harm a wearer of his armlets, he had not been expecting it. He was surprised as I was by my reaction, although I’m sure he noticed it. “No. You’re right. Silver is for women. I believe I’d rather try the other.” The copper did not affect me. I tried to guess the cause of my distress. Was it the silver or something else? I still had the design sheets upon the skirt between my knees. I set them down at once.

Perhaps a written spell had combined with the silver to sting my arm. Miceas might not know if he was a supplier of a harmful substance, but he seemed to know something. I decided I wanted to meet the designer to learn for myself if he was enchanting the silver armlets and bracelets. I wondered why no one had called upon my services to stop painful reactions. I could not be the only one the silver affected, could I? There was some mystery here. “These designs interest me, Miceas. Would you know anything more about them then what you’ve told me?”

“The dragon stands for Sky god Anu. The big fish represents my city, Nineveh. The word is if someone comes to our city meaning us harm, the city will swallow him and not spit him up until evil thoughts have left his head. As far as the designs, they are pretty. That’s all I know.” I still didn’t trust him.

“So big fish are your city’s protectors?” I asked. In my day, protectors looked more like people, even if we were somewhat more powerful and long-lived.

“That’s what the legends say.”

All signs told me he was hiding something. “When are you leaving for home?” I asked. “I would like to go with you.”

He looked at me as if I had two heads. “You want to go to Nineveh? Why make a trip? I’ll come again.”

Once the idea was in my mind, I was persistent. I did not intend to leave this alone until my curiosity was settled. “I want to meet and speak with the designer of these curious armlets and perhaps order several for gifts. You will introduce me. When does your ship leave?”

“I sail the day after tomorrow on the Silver Moon at dusk.” I made a fist behind my back at the ship’s name. Apparently there was something in silver that didn’t set well with me. At least, I would not be exposed to the morning sun. I hoped to arrange an awning for the next day’s dawn. I would need it if I didn’t sleep away the day in the cargo hold. “It takes two days and nights to reach Nineveh. Ask any of the harbor guards for the inn where the captain stays. He’ll decide if you may sail with him. He will expect payment for your passage. On ships, captains are kings and their word is law.”

I did not mind paying, but I would not allow him to turn me away. I had a king of my own, an emperor actually, who could order him to take me aboard. If the river captain refused, he would not be docking at Babylon’s harbor again.

There was much to accomplish before I could go. I had to make my concerns known to Ishtar’s high priestess tonight or in the morning and learn if any of the armlets or bracelets had affected her women. I must take my leave of King Marduk with as good an excuse as I could devise, or he would not allow me to leave the care of his court in another’s hands. I stood up and brushed off my robe to take my leave of the trader. “I will see you tomorrow afternoon then, good Miceas. Sleep well.”

# # #

Francis touched Sam’s cheek and whispered his name. His eyes had closed. “I’m awake,” Sam said slitting them open as if the light hurt. “Miceas was Mick, wasn’t he? Did you go to Nineveh with him?”

Francis smiled. “You really were awake. That is enough of the story for now. It is nearly 10:00 in the morning. You haven’t slept for 20 hours and you’re ready to collapse.” Sam looked as if he was about to protest. Francis’ smile widened. “You won’t be able to play tonight if you don’t get some sleep.” Sam couldn’t bear to be parted from his music for long. “We both need some down time,” Francis said firmly. “Don’t argue.” He paid and walked Sam back to the elevator to find his car.

He opened the door and helped Sam get buckled in. “What happened next?” Sam asked looking around lazily as if he couldn’t understand how he had moved from the chair in the restaurant to the car. “Was Miceas Mick? Did you go?”

“We both did, and so did Ishtar’s high priestess and Serali. I’ll tell you more about our trip to Ninevah another time.”

The drive from the restaurant to Sam’s apartment did not take long. Francis brought them up in the elevator and unlocked the door with his own key. He got Sam out of his clothing and ready for bed, then put him to bed and spread blankets over him. “Sleep well, my brother,” he said.

“But what about you? You must still be hungry. I ate the pancakes for you.” Sam held out his arms in invitation. “Come to me.”

Francis allowed himself to be convinced. He found it hard to ever say no to Sam, especially not to this, but Sam had lost too much blood in the last few days. “Just a little,” he said. He gathered Sam to him and turned him to his side, stroking his silky black hair before he moved it aside. Even half asleep, Sam’s aura reached out to pull him in. Francis held him close, savoring his aroma and everything else about him. He indulged himself, but stopped before he could weaken Sam further. “Yes.” These moments were what he lived for, what he chose to stay alive for.

Francis licked his lips before leaving the bed. He bent over Sam to kiss his eyelids. “I love you, my brother,” he said.

“I love you too,” Sam mumbled. His breathing and his heart had slowed.

Francis had visited Sam four times in the nearly two years since he found him in the United States, but he’d never tasted his blood this soon after a pancake breakfast. Maple flavoring in the memory - extraordinary. Mick was right. “You are delicious,” Francis murmured softly. He took a last look at Sam sleeping peacefully in the bed, climbed into his freezer and shut the lid.
Read Sam stories by Penina My index: http://www.moonlightaholics.com/viewforum.php?f=560
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