2310 BCE

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Telal looked up from the clay tablet on the table. Setting down his reed stylus, he rose from his chair. After quickly glancing behind him in the room, he pulled back the curtains with both hands, the harsh yellow light falling upon his forehead. It made him squint, and he briefly had to shield his eyes to see properly.

Hirom’s tanned face met his. It was obvious he was on his tippy toes, straining to meet the ledge of the window. The young slave’s hair was covered in leaves and straw, and his hands were muddy, like always. But when the moment Telal saw his face, the dreariness of the day seemed to lift off his shoulders.

Hirom shyly drew back, apparently startled.

”Hello,” Telal eagerly whispered. He leaned forward, resting both arms on the window ledge. “Hello,” he repeated again.

“Hello,” Hirom said, waving to him, before digging his left bare foot into the dirt. His Akkadian had gotten a lot better, although his accent remained. He still spoke a few Hebrew words every now and then. But Telal didn’t mind—he was quite fascinated by them.

A bird settled in a tree nearby, rustling its branches.

With a small hand, Hirom placed three lumpy potatoes on the windowsill. They still had soil on them. “I brought you a present.”

Telal slowly smiled.

“Are you busy?”

“No. I have studies. Mother is gone. So is Papa.” Telal rested his elbows at the top of the window. “It is only Amata and I here.” He placed a finger on his lips. “I will come out.”

“Alright,” Hirom whispered, dropping down below in the bushes. Telal glanced around the room for a bit, before picking up his leather ball. He spied a large piece of bread on his tray and stuffed it deep into his tunic. After peering out in the hallway—and, with hearing Amata’s humming coming from the kitchen, grabbed two fruits from the dining room table. His leather sandals echoed against the smooth marble floor as he took off running through the front door.

* * * * * * *

Hirom scarfed down the bread with both small hands, picking up every single crumb. Despite it being a very hot day, both children had sought refuge from the sun’s unmerciful rays underneath a large poplar tree. Its branches cast a large patch of shade. Telal was tossing the ball up and down in his arms. He giggled as he observed Hirom licking his fingers and reaching for a bright red apple.

“You eat very fast.”

Hirom glanced up at him, stifling a grin, although his cheeks were bulging with food. Still chewing, he took another bite of the apple, setting it carefully upon the grass as he finally got to his feet and walked over.

Telal caught the leather ball in his hands and drop it in the dirt. “Would you like to play a game?” he softly asked. “I can show you.”

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Hirom tilted his head. “What game?”

”You have to try to take the ball away from me,” Telal continued. He bent down, picked up a stick, and drew two solid lines far apart from each other in the dirt. “This is my side. And this is your side. If I get the ball over on your side, I score. Same goes for you.”

The other boy nodded. “What happens next?”

”The one who has the most points wins.” Telal placed his foot over the ball. “Would you like to do a practice rou—” When he looked down, he saw Hirom taking off, kicking it with his feet. Surprised, he began to chase after him.

Their laughter echoed in the trees, across the dense bushes. For his size, Hirom was remarkably quick, although he was rather clumsy with the ball. Dust floated in the air, getting caught in their hair and faces. As the sun gradually lowered in the sky, Hirom grinned when he attempted to sneak the ball below Telal’s right leg, but landed flat on his face in the mud. Telal rushed forward, concerned appearing on his face.

“Are you alright?”

Hirom yanked him by the arm, pulling directly him into the puddle. Snickering, both boys threw clods at each other, before they were covered completely head and toe. As they laid on their backs with their arms folded behind their heads, Hirom turned his head.

”Can you teach me?”

”Teach you what?” Telal asked.

”How to do those tricks with the ball.” The young slave straightened up. “Can you show me?”

Before Telal could answer, there was an echo. A shout that fell upon the field. Hirom quickly got to his feet, clumsily attempting to stand in the mud. Disappointment fell upon his small face, and his smile faded away.

”I have to go,” he whispered.

“You…you will come tomorrow, won’t you?” Telal asked. “Just knock at my window.”

Hirom nodded. “I’ll try my best.”

”Me too,” Telal quietly said, and both boys looked at each other and exchanged smiles. Hirom ran at the edge of the woods, before pausing to wave at him. Emerging at the end of the cornfields was Utua, who grabbed the boy’s arm, giving him a very verbal scolding, before dragging him out of sight.

Telal stood in the mud, glaring at the man’s shadow. After a few moments, he picked up his ball and reluctantly returned to the villa.

* * * * * * *

“My lord, how can you show up like this?” The elderly slave scrubbed viscously at his arms and legs. “If your mother ever saw anything like this, she would have me flogged.”

Telal coughed and sputtered as Amata dumped a bucket of cold water over his head. The thick suds gathered around the bathtub, quickly becoming brown. “You tracked mud all over the floor, the walls, the table. And you did not complete any of your studies today.”

“I was playing,” Telal began, but was doused with cold water again. Upon being fully dried and dressed in a clean tunic a few moments later, Amata led him to the dining hall and sat him down at the table. Beads of water fell from Telal’s hair, and he sneezed as one of the maids set a steaming plate of roasted lamb, bread, and vegetables in from of him, before bowing and exiting the room. Amata knelt next to his level and pointed to the plate.

“Finish that, my lord.”

“Where is Mother?” Telal asked, placing an elbow on the table. “When will she be coming back?”

”She is in the city. You ought to know that.” Amata patted his arm and rose. “And after that, you will need to be put to bed.”

”But I am not—”

”My lord, it is what the Master orders.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

The young boy watched her disappear down the hallway, slumping his shoulders at the sight of the empty table. After taking a few slow bites, he picked up his plate, scooted off the chair, and left the dining room. As he approached the kitchen, he saw Amata spinning wool, talking with the other slaves. As he stood in the threshold, Amata spun around in her seat. A look of displeasure fell upon her wrinkled face.

“Please, may I eat with you?” Telal asked.

”My lord, you know the rules.” The old woman sighed and smoothed out her skirts. “Come now.” She held out her hand. “Back to the dining room. Let us go. You should not be here. You know your father forbids it.”

Telal shook his head and took a step back.

”Now, my lord—”

”No! I don’t want to!” The sound of crashing filled the air as the boy threw his plate to the ground. Pieces flew everywhere. Amata hardly reacted, just sighed and grabbed Telal’s hand. He began to kick and swing as she scooped him up in her arms and began to carry him upstairs to the second floor.

As Telal lay in bed a few moments later in his dark bedroom, water beaded in his eyes. He curled up as tightly as he could in the blankets, sniffing loudly into the thick pillow.

* * * * * * * *

“I made this for you.”

Telal’s bright blue eyes fell upon the small wooden object in Hirom’s hand. The young slave gently placed it in his palm, proudly smiling. One of his front teeth were missing.

“What is it?” Telal whispered, holding it up in the sun between his index finger and thumb.

“A horse.” Hirom shifted his legs in the grass. “Utua helped me. He showed me how to use a knife. I still need to practice.” The boy paused at Telal’s silence. “Do you like it?”

”I love it,” Telal quietly answered. His grip tightened around the figurine. “Thank you.”

“It’s supposed to be just like Angus,” Hirom continued, “but I can’t quite get her nose right. Or her tail.”

Telal hugged his knees, scraping off the mud on his legs. “Does Utua leave you alone?”

“What do you mean?”

”Does he…does he disappear for days?”

Hirom shook his head.

“I have not seen Mother or Papa for a while.” Telal picked up a rock and chucked it in the air. It went into a nearby ditch. He dropped his arm to his side and lowered his head. “They never take me anywhere. They leave me.”

”Why?” Hirom asked.

”I do not know,” Telal whispered, rubbing his eyes. “It is much more scary at night. If I have a bad dream, no one is there with me.”

“I have bad nightmares too.” Hirom took a step forward. “But when I get scared, I go to the stables, where Angus is.” He smiled. “Then I feel safe again. I also go when Utua snores too loud. I like it there. It’s very warm.” He went over and picked up the ball. “Do you want to play again?”

Telal did not answer, just sat down on a log, drawing in the ground with a stick. Hirom settled on the opposite end, he hesitated for a moment.

“Would you like to spend a couple of nights in the stables with me? Until your parents come.”

Excitement sparkled in Telal’s large blue eyes, and he immediately straightened up. “Really? Do you mean it?”

”Uh-huh,” Hirom continued. “We can bring food and play games until we get too tired.”

Telal smiled. “You might get tired first.”

”Not me!”

* * * * * * *

The scent of fresh, sweet hay met Telal’s nostrils as he lay on his side. On his left side was Hirom, was breathing softly, his eyes closed. Orange peels and apple cores were sprawled everywhere on ground, evident from the basket halfway filled with food Telal had stolen from the kitchen. He heard the faint sound of clucking chickens, bleating goats and sheep, and finally, Angus’ steps.

Half asleep, Telal yawned and snuggled closer into the blanket wrapped about his arms in the dim light. He slowly smiled as he saw the other boy’s tiny frame bundled beneath his own, one dirty bare foot sticking outwards.

“Hirom,” he whispered.

The other boy mumbled something in his sleep, before his eyelids slightly opened.

“You will stay here with me, won’t you?”

Hirom blinked and rubbed his eyes. “Hmm?”

”We are brothers,” Telal quietly spoke, “aren’t we? We can be brothers forever. You and I.”

”Yes,” Hirom replied. “I’ve never had one like you.”

Shifting his arms, Telal moved a bit closer. “I am glad you are here. I hope you don’t leave.” His voice trembled. “You are my only friend. I do not want to lose you.”

“Me neither,” Hirom answered. “I didn’t have any back in the village. Before my ma—” He paused. “Before my ma and pa went away.”

“Where are they?”

“I…” A glaze fell upon the boy’s dark eyes. “I don’t want to talk about it. They are gone.”

”Oh.”

”I miss them. You are lucky to have a ma and a pa. I won’t ever see mine again.” Hirom sniffed and drew the blanket closer to his chin. A hopeful expression fell on his face. “But I have Leonara and Utua.”

A twang settled in Telal’s chest—the same one the day they had made their oath by the mirror. He slowly smiled and whispered in the dark, “You are my brother. I’ll protect you. I’ll make sure no one harms you.” He clutched the blanket.

”I can protect you too,” the boy eagerly said.

”You are littler than me. It is my duty to protect you, even if you can fend for yourself.”

Hirom was silent for a moment. “Do you want to hear a story? It is about a mighty warrior. I remember it is one that the elders from my village told me once. A long time ago.”

Telal nodded. As he snuggled deeper into his blanket, listening to the other boy’s voice, his eyelids slowly drooped, until he fell into a delicious, sweet slumber, one that mixed in well with hay and manure and strong earth.

* * * * * * *

Rain fell from the sky above.

With all their might, the children lugged a small wooden crate up a steep hill. The wind blew hard in their faces, but as they finally made it to the top, both stopped to catch their breath.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Telal asked, gazing at the soaking wet ground. He was shivering, hugging his arms as tightly as he could. Water dripped from his chin.

Hirom nodded, eagerly jumping up and down. “I used to do this all the time in the village.” He rushed towards the crate. “Come on!”

The other boy hesitated, but took a few steps forward. The rain was pouring harder, and thunder rumbled above. As Hirom sat in the crate, with all of his might, Telal pushed it against the soggy grass. His bare feet sank into the mud as momentum began to pick up, before he finally climbed in just as the box was beginning to slide down. The sudden dip in gravity made Telal grip both sides, his fingers digging into the wood.

Hirom shouted with glee. As they descended down the hill, the rain and sharp winds slapped into their faces. Telal stretched out his arms before releasing a high pitched scream as they flew faster. The bottom of the crate caught against a rock, causing it to flip over.

As they crashed into a giant mud puddle, both boys broke out into uncontrollable laughter.

* * * * * * *

Quietly humming to himself, Telal played with the small wooden horse on the surface of the table nearby his bed. The clay on the cuneiform tablet he had begun was beginning to harden, the clumsy symbols that he had etched on the surface barely visible. As he examined the figurine with his fingers, Papa’s shadow appeared in the threshold. He was dressed in a colorful, patterned robe, and several jewels lined his fingers. He looked flushed from his trip, and his pale hair was strewn all over his head.

A chill ran down the boy’s spine, and he immediately slipped the figurine into his pocket as his father stepped into the room.

”How are your studies?” he barked.

”They are going well, Papa,” Telal whispered.

”Speak up.”

”They are going well.”

His father’s dark blue eyes narrowed. “The tutor is coming by this week. Do not disappoint me again.”

”Yes, Papa.”

The man turned to leave, but paused. “Word has it that some of the overseers had seen you down at the quarters.” He clasped his hands behind his back. “Did you go there?”

Telal swallowed hard.

”I asked,” Papa thundered, “if you went there.” He pointed a finger at him. “Foolish boy. I’ve told you again and again to stay away from those heathens. They carry disease and pestilence. You bring it up to this house, then everyone catches the plague. As my son, you do what I tell you to. You have disobeyed me once more, and I will no longer tolerate it.”

“No, Papa, I didn’t—”

His father gave him a cold stare. “Perhaps I ought to make other arrangements for you. While I do that, you can stay here and think about what you have done.” With those words, he slammed the bedroom door shut. The sound of keys jingling echoed in Telal’s ears. He rushed forward, trying to tug at the latch, before banging at the surface with both fists.

“Papa!”

Silence. The boy dropped to his knees.

”Papa, please let me out! Let me out!”

His father’s footsteps echoed down the hall.

”Please,” Telal weakly said. “Let me out.”