Herotica 1. Kerry Greenwood

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СКАЧАТЬ deep green shadow blinded him as effectively as a bright light, and he halted and blinked. It was cool and scented under the trees.

      Trees? This was Ninevah, great city of the Assyrians, brick and stone and dust. He had been shoved and lashed if he looked up, dragging a heavy cart full of little trees in barrels. Now he was ordered to drop the hauling ropes and he slumped down onto damp grass.

      Grass? The overseer, the Assyrian Kul, gave Nahum a final flick of the whip and stomped away to torture another child of Naphtali. How many of us can be left? thought Nahum, dragging in deep breaths. Surely not many now. Babylon wanted to steal our lives, our daughters, our songs. Assyria just wants to kill us all if we do not follow their ways.

      And we cannot abandon God, though he has abandoned us for our sins. If we abandon God, we will no longer be Israel. Someone put a rough palm on his shoulder, and when he flinched away from the contact, said in Hebrew ‘Shalom, brother, peace. Can you stand?’

      ‘In a moment. Shalom, brother, is this paradise? If so the road was long and hard.’

      Nahum could see, now, in the leafy gloom under the dense fruit trees. The man who was patting his shoulder was no older than he. He wore the simple cloth of a labouring slave, and over it the gown of an employee of the court. His voice was warm and amused.

      ‘No, Eden happened already. This is the Hanging Gardens, and we are its keepers. The Great King Sennacharib comes here every now and again. Only he, and his wives. There must always be fruit, and not a fallen leaf may be seen. Therefore, he set us here. There are twelve of us, all Israelites, because we are so good with gardens.’

      ‘That bastard Kul made me drag this cart all the way from the market. Are the trees for you? I can’t thank you for the task, brother.’

      ‘My name is Aaron of the tribe of Dan,’ said the other man gravely.

      ‘I am Nahum of the tribe of Naphtali.’

      They exchanged the kiss of peace, as between brethren. Aaron smelt fragrant, of jasmine and roses. Nahum knew that he stank of sweat, blood, and fear.

      ‘Soon we shall talk, and eat, and I shall introduce you to the others. You are the only one of your tribe here,’ he said, forestalling the question. ‘We all are. Our captors chose us, one from each tribe. And hatred must not devour us,’ he added, hauling Nahum to his feet. ‘Now, my little trees. They need a drink. So do you!’

      ‘What sort are they?’ asked Nahum, taking the cup Aaron held out and drinking gratefully. Cool, earthy water. He had never tasted anything so delicious.

      ‘The Babylonians call them citron,’ replied Aaron. ‘Come, with both of us hauling, it will not be too long before we can get their roots into good rich earth. Then you can wash and eat. I will tend your welts, and you can lie down in peace.’

      ‘I would love to believe you, my Aaron,’ replied Nahum. ‘But I can’t.’

      But it seemed to be true, at least, for the moment. They were lodged in pairs, in little houses on each level of the structure. One man from, as Aaron had said, each of the twelve tribes: Dan, Asher, Naphtali, Reuben, Simeon, Levi, Zebulun, Gad Judah, Issachur, Levi, and Benjamin. The news of all of them was uniformly dire. All the Northern Kingdoms had been conquered and swept away. Only the tribe of Judah in the land of Judah held out against the Assyrian siege.

      ‘And soon, surely, Jerusalem, the Holy City, will fall again,’ commented Isaac, gulping down the sour wine they had managed to make, covertly, of the Great King’s surplus grapes.

      ‘Even if it does,’ said Aaron, ‘Israel shall not break.’

      ‘Look around you,’ scoffed Asher. ‘We are broken! What is left of our tribes, but the bare remnant which is us?’

      ‘Even so,’ stated Aaron. ‘Put some honey in your wine, Nahum, the bees have been feeding on the roses. We are not yet dead. While we live, while only one of us lives, Israel lives. So drink up and don’t be so gloomy! Look at this palace of trees,’ he said, waving a work-worn hand around at the orchard in which they were sitting. ‘Made by coating many reed mats in tar, building two courses of mortared brick on that, then a coating of melted lead to make it waterproof. Walls twenty two cubits thick, causeways five cubits wide, water supplied by the aqueduct and lifted by Archimedes screws? So that it is always wet, always growing? And in twenty years the trees have grown so high that the Gardens are a mass of green, a relief to sore eyes in this city of enamel and clashing colours and dust and stone. Is it not a marvel?’

      Reluctantly, they all agreed.

      ‘And if man could make such a thing as this,’ declaimed Aaron, ‘God, what wonders can he create?’

      They had nothing more to say, and ate their lentil soup, bread made of barley, and a sweet cake of honey and dates and apricots.

      ‘Will you lodge with me?’ asked Aaron. ‘It is a climb, but you will find it worth the effort. From my little house you can see the whole garden.’

      ‘I will,’ said Nahum, who had been stricken to the heart with longing as soon as Aaron had laid a hand on his shoulder. He had not realised how lonely he had been, until he had heard Aaron’s voice, speaking the Hebrew of his homeland. He took Aaron’s hand as they climbed, stopping at each of the six levels, until they reached the top.

      ‘It is a marvel,’ breathed Nahum. ‘It is a miracle.’

      The Garden was oblong. Each layer was laden with trees, and under them, shrubs and lattices of roses and jasmine. The gardens breathed the scent of water and leaves.

      ‘What have you planted over there?’ asked Nahum, leaning on Aaron’s arm.

      ‘That is Asher’s poison garden,’ said Aaron. ‘Wormwood, castor oil beans, hemlock, crow-mallow, water-chestnut, nightshade, oleander, wolf’s-bane. He tried to get poisonous fungi to grow, but the air is not humid enough. It makes him feel better,’ said Aaron, ‘we have to manage our hatred as best we can. This way, Asher knows that they cannot take him again. One mouthful of any of those, and he can die. He was...very badly treated. Do not judge him harshly.’

      ‘I do not,’ said Nahum. ‘Your little trees seem happier with their roots in earth. They are picking up their leaves already.’

      ‘They will bear a goodly fruit,’ Aaron assured him. ‘Now, my brother, sit down, and let me draw water: you can wash, and then I will tend you.’

      Nahum stripped off the dirty, torn cloth, and scrubbed his body all over with meal sewn into a clout. When he was clean, he dipped water over his head. He felt wonderful. He was a little drunk, from the sour wine doctored with honey, and as clean as he had ever been.

      Aaron dried his back with the remains of the cloth, then threw it aside. He smoothed an ointment over the random stripes on Nahum’s back.

      ‘That smells so sweet,’ said Nahum. ‘What is it?’

      ‘Essence of roses, bees’ wax and ox fat,’ replied Aaron. ‘That feels better?’

      ‘Oh,’ replied Nahum, turning to his friend and leaning into his embrace. ‘That feels as good as new. Will you lie with me?’

      ‘What of Leviticus?’ asked Aaron, running a line of kisses down СКАЧАТЬ