CHAPTER THIRTEEN - PRICE OF SECRECY

Sapphire walked through the tight street. Around him towered high three and four story brick houses. They were crooked and old, leaning down over the street and watching the merchant that traveled in their shadow.

This district, called the fisher’s district, was comprised of a small island with tightly packed structures, surrounding a tiny central square. Vines grew against the walls, taking root in the cracked plaster. From a window an ancient grandmother stood watch. Clothes-lines with multi-coloured fabrics were spun high across the narrow walkways, dripping down on the streets below.

The island had three bridges leading over the canals towards other districts. Men were busy with fishing poles and nets, staring intently at the canal’s murky waters. Small boats came and went, mooring at the district’s edge.

He liked to visit such places. Backwater neighbourhoods and lower wards instead of the busy noble canals. Rundown districts instead of famous pleasure houses. Beauty was everywhere, but the most prized beauty was that which was only sighted by the few.

One of the tall crooked houses caught Sapphire’s eyes with a sign-board; The Insatiable Cat-fish, it read in flaky white letters. The merchant halted and peered inside through a small window.

Unclear wobbly glass panels showed dark confines and the outline of an occasional blurry figure.

He had seen seedier hovels, Sapphire decided, and he pulled open the crooked door.

It was a small drinking hall, just a few tables squeezed towards a counter, everything placed under an ominously sagging ceiling that seemed ready to collapse under the weight of the levels above. The floorboards were weathered, uneven, and creased up in rebellion, protesting and groaning under Sapphire’s shoes.

Across the hall there was a pair of small dirty green-tinted windows that showed the canal flowing past, casting a few rays of coloured light into the gloomy room. A hairy mongrel lay in front of an unlit hearth. The beast opened a single eye when the newcomer entered, then returned to its slumber.

Besides the dog, the other occupants of the inn were the dog’s master standing behind the counter, and four middle aged men drinking next to the windows.

There had been a soft murmur that stopped when the merchant entered.

‘You know who I am, fellows?’ Sapphire asked the inn.

‘Youre the trader; Sapphire.’ One of the men said, glancing at the merchant’s gemmed turban.

‘Mister Sapphire.’ A second corrected his companion.

Sapphire smiled. ‘In the midst of one of my long journeys I have found myself at the doors of this establishment. I am in a good mood today. Buy me a drink and I’ll tell you a story.’

The men, already noticeably inebriated by their aura of rancid sweat and the slur in their tongue, tossed a smattering of coppers at the inn-keeper, who was contently twirling the ends of his moustache. The Sapphire caravaneer - in his house? - The gossip alone would bring weeks of filled tables.

‘Take a seat, caravan of the dessert.’ The Innkeeper eagerly said. ‘I am Big Bas, and I’ll open my finest bottle for you. I won't pour you the bog those vagabonds are drinking. They are good for nothing save cleaning the murky slop that resides at the bottom of my barrels.’

He reached under the counter, uncorked a dusty bottle and filled a glass - one rim chipped - with an golden-amber liquid.

Sapphire took a sip and felt a comfortable burn spread through his throat. ‘Not bad, Big Bas, master of the Insatiable Cat-fish.’ He seated himself on a table next to the drunkards. ‘I will depart for another venture soon and I prefer to have the good people of this blessed city speak of me, rather than forget me while I am struggling in the sands. I want candles burning in the shrines for the safety of my caravan. Now ask, what tale do you want to hear? I have just returned from Dilmun; A shining pearl hidden between sand and ocean...’

The greasiest of the four leaned forward, eyes on Sapphire’s turban. The man had slick black hair, rough stubble on his fattened chin, and a ragged overcoat that likely hid a dagger or two. ‘Where'd-ya-get-that-Sapphire?’

Sapphire’s instinctively reached out to his turban, fingers gliding over the smooth surface of the gem. He gave a careful smile. ‘Ah-h-h, now that is an old story. I'm not from Uruk you see, I was born in the west, across the great sands...’ He eyed the innkeeper, who was listening attentively with his elbows on the counter.

‘...But a young man back then, only a few golden shekels to my name. The caravan I led was small, and owned by the Good Yayatum, whom you all know of course. I worked for him back in the day. Even if it was not my own caravan I was still careful, eyes out for bandits and storms, being kind to my camels, keeping close the few men I had brought along. But friends, know this; in the dessert you must be merciless. One mistake and you are stuck in a world that will try its best to add you to the sand collection-’

‘Merciless.’ One of the drunks muttered with a nod.

‘-We were halfway across the journey to the Palm oasis, somewhat on our guard as we had heard rumours about Karnak one-eye-’

‘One eye!’ One of the listeners exclaimed. ‘I have heard of him!’

‘Shut your mouth and let the man speak!’ Big Bas yelled from behind the counter, now pouring himself a glass as well.

Sapphire waited until it was silent again and patiently continued his story. ‘The fateful encounter occurred when we were crossing the salt flats, an endless plain of cracked white salt, miles and miles around. Well, there upon that moisture hating terrain I saw a lone man stumbling about. A single man in a haze of nothing. He just appeared on the blinding horizon. When he saw us he began yelling hoarsely. One moment I was wary - A trap perhaps? Luring one caravan with the misfortune of another? But the horizon was so terribly flat, giving the promise of spending days more in that barren wasteland with no raiders in sight…’

Sapphire licked his lips, taking another careful sip. ‘There, on that man’s forehead, on a half-unwrapped turban, sparkled the largest, purest Sapphire I had ever seen.’

‘So you stole it?’ The greasy man grinned.

Sapphire him an irritated glance. ‘Listen! Not speak. Can I tell my story or not?’

The friends of the man made angry hisses at the sweaty interrupter, and the innkeeper made a quick series of threats.

The merchant leaned back, retracting within his soft loose fitting dessert robes.

He had the full attention of his spectators and, savouring the moment, he took his time to formulate his next words.

‘The man was in a sordid state. And when I say sordid I mean terrible; close to death really. He collapsed at our feet, thick bulging tongue outstretched, wrinkled fingers clutching my boots with his last strength…’ Another sip warmed his throat.

‘-He was a captain of sorts, an older fellow. A good fifty summers. I would say another hour without water and his end would have been sealed. He was desperate for our water. He asked, then begged. But what did I tell you previously? There can be no mercy. No mistakes. Not in the great dessert.

He asked for water and I said no. I told him:

‘Youre no beggar, you are a trader, so make a trade. We are both merchants, I’m sure we can come to an accord. Where did you get that gem, and how much is your life worth?’

This lone captain however, was quite a negotiator. The man made clear, with signs and hoarse rasping, that he needed water first before he could tell the origins of the gem.

So one cup I measured, counting the drops, and I paid the man.

He drank and asked for more. Of Course I refused. I was with eight armed men, and in the possession of all the water for the next hundred miles.’

Sapphire shook his head, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. ‘Said he got the gem during gambling, and that the previous owner told him he stole it from the tomb of a red bearded giant... And you know what I said?

‘’- Thats a bad story, and I'm gonna need more than the gem if you want to be saved from the dessert.’’

I asked: where is your caravan?

He said it dead, he could bring me to where his camels had collapsed. He promised me half the goods. Well I gave him one more cup of water for his troubles and I let the poor fool lead me.

A host of camels lay scattered over the sand, brown hides pale from the coarse salt dust. Tusks of Ivory, spices from the hidden garden of the sands, chests of wealth. Well I took it all, every box of treasures, every satchel of coins, but I still had not enough.’

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Sapphire raised his finger. ‘-When opportunity comes, one must exploit it completely. I reached for the most valuable resource a caravaneer can have: knowledge. Far away oases, hidden wells, buried supplies. He told me what he knew, gave me maps. Very nice maps. The man had been crossing the barren steppes of the world for decades, and I extracted everything I could from his dehydrated mind. He had a brass ocular, lens shaped to perfection, so I took it. He had a ruby-inlaid knife, which now hangs from my belt. I took the gold-thread from his shoes and I took the rings from his fingers. And what do you think I did with this poor captain lost in the salt fields?’

‘Ye-left him.’ The greasy man said, emptying his clay cup and refilling it with beer..

Sapphire chuckled. ‘No. A trade is a trade. There must be some honesty between merchants. How else can we trust each other? He had bought his water fair and square, so I carried him to Uruk; penniless, his entire fortune added to my account. I sold him at the slave-market and I've not seen him since. So, that was the story of my famous gem. I thank you for listening and paying for the drink.’

‘Wait.’ The Innkeeper said, squinting his eyes ‘-One last thing. How Come the caravan of the captain had gone awry? You said his camels were dead, cargo and all still on their backs.’

Sapphire rose. ‘It has to do with luck. Caravaneers are lucky men, otherwise they wouldn't return from their difficult journeys. The captain’s luck however, had run out, the proverbial well drier than an Elamite whore. Scorpions, storms, betrayal, disease. It had all struck at once, wiping out without warning the man’s mercantile empire. It shows that men are tiny and insignificant, helpless against the fickle will of the Gods. He was a fallen bloated body in the sun, and I was the carrion bird. And one day, perhaps, I am the carcass, and another feeds on my tawny flesh. I wish you good day, gentlemen, and good luck.’

Sapphire opened the door of the Insatiable Catfish and continued on his wanderings.

‘Sir.’ A voice called to him. A muscular man was leaning against the wall across the street, scarred arms crossed. ‘This way please.’

Sapphire frowned, seeing a long blade hanging from the man’s hip.

The stranger poorly attempted a friendly expression, revealing a few missing teeth. His hairy face had the semblance of one the pit-dogs the lowfolk betted on in the sprawling shanties outside the city-walls.

The knife-man took a careful step closer, hands now outstretched as if trying to calm an unruly child.

‘My master Yayatum awaits you.’ He pointed towards one of the bridges.

Sapphire could see a large boat wedged between the canal walls there, its windows hidden behind soft blue draperies.

Sapphire dutifully followed the guard down a slick steep stairway to the water-level and stepped onto the boat. Moving through the draperies he entered a cushion filled room occupied mostly by the sizable body of Yayatum. The fat merchant seemed displeased.

‘By the piss of Inanna, what draws you to these seedy neighbourhoods.’

The boat started moving again and from outside groaning wood became audible as the large vessel scratched past the walls of the tight canal.

‘I look for you…’ Yayatum was out of breath. ‘...all day. And I’m forced to pick you up in a tiny sewer stream. Do you have any idea how much the woodwork of this beautiful boat costs?’

Sapphire relaxed on the cushions. ‘Everybody thinks the great Yayatum remains holed up in his estate, but actually he prowls Uruk’s tiniest waterways hidden behind curtains. Secretly spying on the fishermen and drunks. Who would have thought?’ Sapphire’s eyes fell on a pair of rough-woven sacks filled with pistachios, more than a few empty shells on the floor already. He looked back at yayatum. ‘-A messenger would have been enough, truly.’

Yayatum leaned forward, his bulging forehead creasing uneasy frowns.

‘Silence your nonsense you Sapphire nomad. Things have proceeded in far too important directions to send out servants, all thanks to you - Sarpa.’

Sapphire felt his mouth suddenly become dry and Yaya’s thick neck shook as the fat man let out a chuckle. ‘Do not look so worried my friend. I have got good news for you. I received a tablet this morning signed with the royal seal.’ Yayatum breathed in deeply. ‘The Kings says he is interested in your offer, and he will pick you up soon. He will contact you, discreetly. Its best to let things just go their way.’ Yayatum licked his lips, tongue lolling out like a bloated worm. ‘Mind telling me what it is all about, friend?’

Sapphire sighed. The secrets he carried screamed to be released. He clenched his slender jaw. If they only knew what was out there in the sands. ‘You got wine?’

Yayatum’s face became disfigured by sudden joy, mouth opening wide like the maw of some over-eager toad. His small piggish eyes sparkled. ‘Ylana, Wine!’ Yayatum squealed.

The hairless slave-woman that had greeted Sapphire on Yayatum’s estate now appeared through a screen of black cloth behind her master, handing over a bottle of red liquid. Yaya’s fat pork-like fingers reached back and caressed the woman’s cheek with affection. ‘Thank you my sweetest treasure.’

Sapphire saw she hid her disgust well. As Yayatum was busy with his slave woman, Dan Sarpa fumbled with the ring on his finger, opening the hidden compartment containing Serpent-venom.

Yayatum poured the wine into two goblets and Sapphire smiled sadly. I am sorry old friend. You have been good to me. I dont do this easily. Sapphire kept the emotions swirling within him under control, his face a mask.

Yayatum’s eyes narrowed, now almost hidden beneath the folds of fat. ‘You seem worried, sweet Sapphire. What is it then? You know you can tell me everything. I may look like an ugly swine but I am your friend nonetheless. I know you like your privacy, but this dealings with the King… It worries me.’

Shouting voices erupted from the stern of the ship and Ylana reappeared from behind the curtains. ‘Master, another vessel seems to block our passage.’ She was well spoken, her voice controlled, her accent holding the sort of elegant stiffness one found within highborn families. Yayatum must have paid quite a price for her, he decided.

Yayatum leaned closer towards Sapphire. ‘I told you, these damned piss streams of yours…’ Then his fat head angled back to his slave. ‘Well, tell them to get out of our way!’

‘They seem reluctant, master.’

Yayatum cursed in low tones. ‘By Inanna’s sacred clit, what you mean reluctance?’ He rose up with great effort, pushing his large frame through the draperies. His sizable behind remained in the room, accompanying the waiting Sapphire.

‘you damned reed-sellers! There is only space for one of us so this canal goes only one way today. Get out of my sight you poor miserables! Do you not know who I am? I am Yayatum! Away with you before I put the chain to your entire families!’

Sapphire moved his ring over the wine, releasing a single drop in both glasses.

Yayatum reached into the pockets of his shapeless trousers, throwing a scattering of gold and silver violently to whomever blocked him. Sapphire heard the coins bounce against the opposing vessel, a great amount plunging into the waters of the canal.

‘Yes, yes, finally. There you go.’ He heard Yayatum say, and the fat merchant returned, dropping back onto the cushions with a heavy sigh. Sweat dripped down his swollen reddened cheeks. ‘These back alleys house stubborn folk.’

Yayatum reached for the wine and took a tiny sip, savouring its taste. Sapphire brought his own glass to his lips, letting the liquid flow into his mouth. He nodded with eyes closed. ‘Never have I tasted better wine than yours, my most precious friend.’ Goodbye.

‘Forget about the wine!’ Yayatum roared with impatience. ‘What is the secret you carry with so much mystery? Must I treat you like a whore and pay you with gold to get what I want, or will you tell me like a good friend. You have got me involved in something I dont understand…’ Yayatum’s friendly voice gained a darker edge. ‘I dont like things I dont understand. I like to have control, you know this, good Sapphire. Dan Sarpa, I'm starting to obsess over you. Trust me when I say you do not want my obsession.’

A secret that forced my hand, poor Yaya. ‘Not here.’ Sapphire replied, a quiver in his voice. He straightened the wrappings around his head to keep his sweaty hands occupied, quickly touching the smooth surface of the blue gemstone.

‘I will tell you tonight.’ He lied while he collected his frantic thoughts. ‘I travel across the world…’ Sapphire started, momentarily forced to halt as he suppressed his sadness. ‘... but one of the few things that make me return here is you, Yayatum.’

Yayatum dismissively waved his thick hand. ‘And here I thought we just had a good - professional - business relationship. Dont complicate things with feelings now.’ But the fat man was gloating, happy and warmed by the words of his companion. He drank deeply from his poisoned wine.

Sapphire forced a smile on his face. ‘Deliver me to the fish-for-grain docks. I finish some pressing matters then I come to your estate on my own accord.’

‘Very well, very well. Can I expect you at dinner?’

Sapphire gave Yayatum his last smile. ‘My friend, prepare your favorite meal for me will you?’

He awoke from his own ragged coughing. Sapphire found himself lying on the floor of a drinking house, his throat constricted by swelling, and a multitude of concerned heads peering over him.

‘He lives, thank Inanna.’

‘Thank Inanna.’ Another repeated.

Sapphire groaned on the worn wooden boards, still feeling the venom coursing through his veins. Over the years he had taken the measure of continuously ingesting small amounts of poisons, but the one he used today was a particularly bad one; and he had ingested a sizable dose of it.

‘Poison.’ He whispered weakly.

‘Poison!’ The people cried. They carried him out of the smoky drinking house and onto the canal side, the hour revealing itself to be evening. Someone gave him water and he drank small sips. A wave of nausea emanated from his stomach.

‘I drank wine with Yayatum. I worry for his fate.’ He said. A tear ran down his silver-grey eyes. ‘Call the soldiery.’ He forced himself up, his legs still weak. ‘I must see for myself.’

Three boats glided through the darkening evening city, moving past the gambling and pleasure houses inviting the passing vessels with bright colours, and entering the calmer, more wealthier, parts of the city.

Each boat was filled with a dozen helmeted city guard leaning forward on the sterns of their boats, or rowing the oars with clenched teeth. The middle boat was led by Sapphire, holding a lantern to light the way.

Yayatum’s island estate approached. They landed on its shores and the guards hastily jumped out, their ankles in the water as they drew their blades. Sapphire asked for support and threw one arm around one of the men, then limped up the path to the estate entrance. The soldiers fanned out behind him, silent save the creaking of their leather armour.

From inside a loud wailing reached their ears and the Sapphire merchant strained to increase his pace. They ran inside the hallway and within the entrance hall he found the great Yayatum face down, his fattened body spread out on the coloured tiles like a formless slab of dough.

Servants stood lamenting around their enormous master, felled like a pale beast of the sea dragged onto shore.

Seeing his companion dead by his poison Sapphire burst into tears. He wept with the servants, falling to his knees as his vision became watery. Forgive me friend. I could not risk it.

When the tears passed he scanned the slaves. His grief had receded, for now, and all that was left was cold calculation. His eyes rested on the bald woman; Yayatum’s personal slave. Slowly his hand rose to point a bony finger accusingly at her.

‘She.’ He stated solemnly.

The woman recoiled in confusion. Sapphire averted his eyes as he prepared the lie.

‘She gave us the wine. She poisoned us. She killed the great Yaya.’ The woman protested but the soldiers bound her, then dragged her back to the boats. For the last time Sapphire looked at the friend he had murdered, then he too left.