The Whore of Babylon

Chapter 17 | part 3

Ashan was on guard duty that evening.

Eliana plucked at the lyre, weaving a sweet tune of her own composition as Samsu reclined on the bed, reading a tablet bearing his father's seal, his forehead creased in concentration.

He shook his head, putting the tablet down and leaning back against the pillows, closing his eyes to better absorb the music. The final notes of the melody quivered in the air, before melting away into nothingness.

Silence stretched out, settling over the room.

Ashan cleared his throat.

'What is it?' asked Samsu, not opening his eyes.

'Sir, if I might mention a small domestic matter...'

'Go on.'

'You are aware that your concubine is nearing her final month of pregnancy?'

'Of course I am, boy. I'm not stupid.'

'She has been anxious for several weeks now, concerned about the whore, though I told her that she was well-cared for and there was nothing to worry herself about.'

'And?'

'The physician has advised that an unhappy mother breeds an unhappy child. If she continues to pine and fret, your son may come forth sickly and weak.'

Samsu opened his eyes and sat up, 'and why has nobody mentioned this to me before?'

'We had hoped that she would come to accept the situation, sir. But she is worse than ever, and the physician advises that this is a vital time for the child.'

Ashan spoke with a perfectly straight and serious face; Eliana wondered how much of what he said was true. Was Kisha really worried?

'Well I will not release the whore, so she can give up that idea immediately. She can join her if she likes – I'm sure there's room for two chains over there.'

Eliana's heart sank – no, no, no! That was not the way it was supposed to happen. She bit her tongue to prevent herself from speaking and ruining everything.

'I would not have dreamed of suggesting it, sir.' Ashan said respectfully. 'I merely meant to suggest that the concubine be permitted to visit the whore if it might stop her worrying.'

Samsu frowned as he thought – Eliana could see that he was torn. He did not like being forced into giving her an extra privilege that he would consider a gift to be earned, but if his son was weak and sickly, the future of the empire could be at stake.

'Do you believe you have earned a visit from your sister, karkittu?'

'I've tried to, sir.' She answered tactfully.

'And would you be willing to give up another privilege in order to see her?'

'If it is your wish.' The words grated in her throat, but she must be deferential, must be respectful; it was the only way to manipulate him into giving her what she wanted.

'It is. You will give up your garden walks for the next two days in exchange.'

'Thank you, sir.' She returned her attention to the lyre and struck up another tune, a little irritated that she would be stuck here for two days, but rejoicing in Ashan's clever playing of Samsu. She was beginning to learn that by massaging his vanity and presenting ideas carefully, it was possible to get almost anything out of him.

Anything but her freedom.

'Very well. Ashan, arrange it.' Samsu picked up the tablet again and resumed reading.