The Causality of Time Read online

  Before dawn, Talmido rose, washed, and ate, neither smiling nor acknowledging his men. His head hung low, deep in thought, contemplating on only the gods knew what. A crease ran across his brow, wrinkling his forehead and making him look older with the seeming wisdom of age. The men whispered in hushed words of concern, casting fleeting glances his way to ascertain if he was sick. Talmido rose and looked around the mess tent.

  “The time has come for those Elamite dogs to pay for our brothers’ lives by the thrusting our blades into the hearts of their sons and daughters. Why should Assyrian mothers be the only ones to weep? Does not Ishtar provide justice for the weak? Rise up, my brothers, and remember your friends, your families, and your honor. Share with me a toast to the gods of our men, and may we be victorious today, and may Ashur shelter us from Zaltus’ machinations.”

  The men stood and held up their goblets while looking intently at Talmido and toasted to their fallen comrades. Quickly, Talmido and the men left the mess tent and began barking the orders for each platoon to prepare and assemble for war. Scouts arrived, providing situational awareness on the caravan and division B’s position. All, it seemed, was in place.

  The units, with muffled sandals and hooves, began to quietly move through the forest toward the east and the unsuspecting caravan. The sun had not come up yet. It was deathly quiet, with neither insect nor bird providing any acoustic cover; hence, any rustle or snap could be heard for hundreds of cubits, so each man was instructed to remain silent under penalty of death. These men were professionals, and while no threat was ever made or implied, they all knew the possible outcomes—either the enemy would kill the man they hear, or Talmido would kill that man for giving the division’s position away.

  Once word had come in that division B was stationed around the caravan, Talmido gave the word for the horns to be blown and the attack to begin.

  Pandemonium broke out in the Elamite baggage train camp with disheveled men grabbing for their swords while staggering around, trying to determine from which direction their enemies would come. The baggage train had been surrounded, and the attack was all-encompassing, with the glittering bronze armor and snarling white teeth of the Assyrian soldiers driving the eternity of death’s embrace through their enemies’ hearts or bellies, whichever became more exposed.

  The screaming of women rang out into the night air, shattering the peace of the early morning as they ran or were dragged away into the forest, as the grunts of the dying and the weeping of the wounded added an orchestral balance of rhythmic sorrow that was all too familiar to Talmido and his men. It had not registered entirely until the battle was over and the sun shone with all its glory on the camp’s destruction. Fires burned where torches had been thrown into tents to flush out their occupants. Bodies laid where they had been beheaded or disemboweled, with arms and legs stretched out in bizarre arrays of demise.

  Thankfully, it was all over within a couple of hours. All enemy army personnel were either killed or captured, and the slaves were corralled into tight columns of humanity. The quartermaster began his work of dividing up the spoils according to rank and reward for outstanding fieldwork.

  “It is good to see you, Sergeant Major. I am glad that Ashur showed favor toward you and kept you alive for another day of fighting,” Talmido commented.

  “Thank you, Commander. Yes, it would seem that way,” replied Si-tatious.

  “How many dead and injured?”

  “Eighty-one dead and ninety-three injured, sir.”

  “Bury the dead, and bind up the injured. We need to move out of here tonight before the Elamite east-flank division finds out what happened and sends for reinforcements.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  That night, the company was divided into four groups, each taking one-quarter of the spoils and moving out in various zigzagging patterns to shake off the prying eyes of the Elamite scouts. Each team made it back to the Assyrian camp the following evening and rejoined their company to hearty slaps on the back and full grins of devious satisfaction. The heist had worked, and they had exacted some Assyrian revenge on their Elamite counterparts. This was their purpose. This was their life. This was their reality.

  Talmido joined his men later that night for beer and roasted goat to cheers of jubilation and words of gratitude. Each man had just become wealthy beyond his wildest dreams. It was on that day the company indeed became Talmido’s for his to do as he wished. The men were his to command and lead, and Talmido knew this to his great satisfaction.

  Chapter 8

  A Vision’s Dream

  (1164 BC Earth Time)

  She moved Talmido in such a way as he had never before experienced, closing his mind’s eye to the reality of life, especially his own.

  The sweet smell of her perfumed skin pulled at his heart to such a degree that he could not banish her from his mind. Loneliness had been his companion for decades, and he was so tired of its persistent dialogue of self-deprecation.

  * * *

  The weight of time was wrestling my vitality from the gods of hope, keeping me from desire, throwing me to the winds of pain and regret so that I became lost in their vain hope of darkness, pulling me on toward a future of futility. Sometimes I wished those very same gods expelled me from their plans and banished me to a netherworld of disposition that blacked out my mind’s eye and closed the clouds of my anguish for all eternity.

  Such was my state of mind that I grasped for answers at any moment, wishing upon wishes, hoping upon hope that life would provide the solutions or direction I needed, but nothing—nothing was given. What was this? Why did this exist, this state of being—my life beyond life, my life after the lives of loved ones. After the experiences of history that I now do not even recall the counting, as the diseases of death and fault carry on year after year, decade after decade, with such a surety that time finds no fault or end.

  Her skin shone in the bright light of the day, glistening with the sweat of her work and carrying itself across to me. The scene drew me out with such intensity, grabbed me by the loins, and hefted me up by the ears so much so that I sucked in my breath and held it until my nerves calmed down.

  Death had been such a part of my life that I found it difficult to adjust my mind toward the thoughts of love and creation. Desire was now pushing me toward her with such ferocity that I could not hold back the steps of history, which were beckoning me forward with tantalizing questions of necessity.

  I approached her one day as she worked at folding laundry. I wanted to introduce myself, to eventually get to know her more.

  I walked up to the laundry tent and stopped at the entrance, waiting until she noticed me.

  Eventually, she raised her head. “Oh, I didn’t see you there. Who are you? Is there something I may help you with?” she asked. She smiled and stood up to greet me.

  “My name is Talmido. I noticed you working here and since I have nothing to do, I thought I may introduce myself.”

  “Well, Talmido, come in and help me with this laundry. It never seems to end. What do you do?”

  “I am a soldier of the emperor. I just came back from the front and I’ve been rotated for a rest period.”

  “Oh…a soldier. You must see so much death. How can you stand it? The laundry you see here is for the wounded. There is so much of it,” she said with eyes full of pain.

  “Yes…there are many that come back with terrible wounds. The enemy is persistent in its resistance. Many times we barely escape with our lives. The enemy is a tough adversary.”

  I spent some time with her talking about the front, the war and her day-to-day work. We seemed to meld into one person as we spoke. She would look into my eyes with compassion and respect, and over the days and months, I could feel my heart slowly slipping from the bonds of denial to the possibility of hope. As my life moved forward in a never-ending cycle of fighting, resting, working and then back to fighting, I could not for the life of me get her out of my mind. I was captured – heart and soul.<
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  I knew her to be owned by a particular man of ill repute among the soldiers, a man of malice and low stature of character. This man had acquired her through the devious machinations of a smear campaign and final accusations of treasonous acts that led to a poor man’s eventual execution. All the rank and file soldiers knew of this situation and tried to keep clear of his unwanted attention.

  As a scribe, he was the man who apportioned the loot from the fighting and kept all the records; hence, it became dangerous to challenge him in any way. He was a slave, however—a slave of the general—and had much power of persuasion.

  I could not get her out of my mind, and the longing became almost an obsession. I thought if I approached the scribe with enough gold, he would sell her to me, so I went on my way to talk with him to come to a reasonable agreement.

  “Hattusili, may the gods be kind to you,” I said as I approached him.

  “Ah, Talmido, and may the gods find favor in you also,” he replied. “What is it that brings you to me?”

  “I have noticed a certain woman, a slave of yours, which I am interested in perhaps purchasing, and I am wondering if you will consider selling her to me.”

  “One of my slaves? Well, well, that is interesting, and why would I want to sell her to you?”

  “Hattusili, you are a shrewd, patient, and reasonable man, and I thought that with enough offered gold, perhaps you would accept my inquiry,” I replied.

  “So, Talmido, who is this woman that I should be so generous as to sell her to you?” Hattusili asked.

  “She is Sapalulmea, a Parthian of little importance.”

  “Hmm, I vaguely remember her. Quite a meal, that one, if I remember correctly,” Hattusili replied while looking up at the sky to fake his remembrance. He knew exactly who she was, as he had eaten from that table many times in the past and had quite enjoyed it.

  “I’ll tell you what I need. I need something done, and if you accept and are successful, I’ll consider selling the woman to you.”

  “What is the matter needing assistance with, and what is the price for her?” I asked, knowing I would probably regret this arrangement and never see the light of day in our negotiations.

  “Oh, just a trifle situation. I need your special talents to relieve a certain officer of his signet ring and then deliver it to me.”

  “Hattusili, that is impossible. You know those rings are never taken off. They represent the emperor’s solemn vow to an officer for legal and military support. This would be a suicide mission, in addition to being completely illegal, and it would put me in a terrible situation,” I retorted.

  “Well, I suppose we do not have an agreement, then.”

  “Wait, wait. Give me two days to think about this, and I’ll return with my answer.”

  “Two days, then, Talmido,” Hattusili replied while looking intently into my eyes with a smirk upon his lips, all the while knowing he had me right where he wanted me to be.

  As I contemplated Hattusili’s counteroffer, I unwittingly walked by Sapalulmea’s tent. While I was trying to figure out my way through this predicament, she emerged from the entrance with her arms laden down with linen. She jumped, startled, and fell to the ground with her load. I bent down to help her back up and assist with the bundle.

  “Sapalulmea, please forgive me for startling you. I did not mean to do so.”

  “Talmido, what are you doing? Why are you skulking around? You know whose tent this is? You scared me. Remember, we agreed not to see each other here,” she said.

  “Yes, but I cannot resist any longer. I need to see you. I have been thinking that perhaps I should talk to Hattusili.”

  “You would talk to Hattusili regarding me? Oh, Talmido, thank you. He is such a despicable man. I hate him with all my heart,” she whispered.

  “Yes, I will approach him soon,” I replied with awestruck eyes of desire as I looked her up and down, to my immense pleasure.

  She walked with supple grace. Her eyes of deep brown, almost black, beckoned me in with the ease of a quiet heart. She swung her hips in a rhythmic fashion of such hypnotic beauty that my mind and soul threw themselves to the wind. I shut my eyes and swallowed hard, resisting the temptation to grab her then and there and have my way with her. I wanted her, of course, but I wanted not only her body, but also her love.

  The women of the camp were there for many reasons—acting as slaves, wives, mothers, prostitutes, cooks, gatherers, and general, all-purpose labor. I had been with a few women of the camp, knowing there to be no future with any of them; each was just a relief from the tension of warfare and daily grind of life. I had moved beyond that need and wanted a relationship based on a consensual desire for love—deep, meaningful love—not for a moment of passion but for an endearing, ongoing result of our mutual want.

  I approached her, not knowing what to expect while looking at the curves of her body and holding her in my mind’s eye with a clarity that I could still recall in all its glory centuries later as if it had just happened. This was my first introduction to love within my camp life.

  Battles had come and gone with the repetitiveness of the dawn or sunset. Days went by without notice as I fought, recuperated, and assisted with the camp duties. This went on for years, perhaps even decades. I had lost all track of time then. We eventually defeated the Babylonians, taking the northern part of the Chaldean Empire and extending the Assyrian hegemony. The captains of my company noticed my propensity toward the death of the enemy, and I was subsequently commissioned to command a company of my own. I honed my skills, whereby I became the destroyer to the enemy without as much as a thought, earning praise and accolades from my companions. It would seem that plunder and glory were all we ever thought about.

  I had accumulated slaves, gold, and land, as they were all I wanted. Life was simple. Nothing mattered at this time as I requisitioned a place for myself within the hierarchy of man, trying to cleanse myself from the brutality of war. I broke the will of the enemy through brute force and determination. I made calculated attacks on cities, lands, and women. I took all there was to my satisfaction. I could think of no need for reflection or examination as I felt it was my divine right to choose and have whatever I wanted. It seemed the gods desired me to become a man of my own making—a man of my own destiny. What else was I to think? The accumulation of gold and wealth fed my desire for more. Taking was all I knew at that point—the taking of lives, wealth, and families. I wed my pain to the death of my enemies and the gathering of my wealth. There was nothing to stop me in my quest for self-gratification. I became what my father feared the most—a monster among men. I preyed upon the government-sanctioned weakness of its enemies to my own exultation, thus building the foundation for my own demise, which was unbeknownst to me at that time. Yes, time has a way of correcting the evils of man, and yes, it has a way of bringing balance back into the harmony of life.

  I am quite sure she was aware of my desire and probably used it to her own advantage as she seemed to accentuate her stature whenever I approached and smiled with sparkling eyes of pure happiness. Two days came and went with such swiftness that I could hardly fathom how I would decline Hattusili’s request with any form or reason.

  “What have you to say for yourself, Talmido?” Hattusili asked.

  “Who is it, and when do you need the task done?” I asked.

  “Ho, ho! So you will take me up on my challenge, then? This slave must be quite something to you for you to take such a risk.” Hattusili laughed without smiling. “Five days from the new moon, Mindroos, an officer of the Red Tigers regiment, will be out on the front for his rotation. I will send one of my slave girls to him as a present, and she’ll slip the ring off him and stow it under his sleeping mattress where you will find it and bring it to me.”

  “Why do you need me to fetch it when the slave girl can bring it to you?” I asked.

  “Do you take me for a fool, Talmido? I cannot have this mission linked back to me. No, it needs to be someone
not affiliated with me in any way.”

  “I see. I’ll do it,” I answered. “However, I need your signet ring until the deal is done and I have Sapalulmea purchased. I will do your bidding and pay five talents of gold for her. Is this acceptable to you?”

  “Five gold talents, you say? That is a large sum to pay for such a slave, Talmido. Yes, I accept,” Hattusili replied while taking his signet ring off his right middle finger. “I want the ring back with the gold once I receive Mindroos’s ring. Is that understood?”

  “Yes, absolutely!” I replied while grasping Hattusili’s arm to seal the agreement and pocketing the ring, so I had his insurance tucked away until the arrangement was finished.

  The night came, and I quietly stole into Mindroos’ tent while under cover of darkness. Reaching under his sleeping mattress, I found the ring, but I hesitated, closing my hand, not quite wanting to ruin a well-respected officer. I knew what would become of him with Hattusili at the helm of his demise. I shook my head and shut my mind to the betrayal and quickly slipped the ring under my belt for safekeeping and stole back the way I came in. The next day, I went to Hattusili and presented the ring and the gold for the purchase of Sapalulmea. Hattusili gave me a papyrus parchment with the cuneiform writing that indicated my purchase of Sapalulmea.

  “Thank you, Hattusili, for your careful consideration of this transaction. Oh, and here is your signet ring.” I touched my forehead and bowed in respect while turning to leave the tent.

  “And thank you, Talmido. Until next time.” Hattusili smirked into his goblet before sipping on his wine of the day.

  The day had come. I walked up to her and took her for myself without a thought of her own perception, leading her back to my tent with haste. I had to have her and make her mine.

  She fell into our lust and desire. Her smooth skin felt as soft as the best wine on a clear night, and it filled my head with thoughts not of this world. Her breasts leaped out at me as I tore off her clothing, beckoning me to sample their intoxication while my eyes ran down her supple line of beauty toward her belly, which undulated with anticipation and deep breaths of excitement. She trembled under my hands. Her lips parted with a sigh of blushed ecstasy, introducing her to me with her unfulfilled needs as a woman.