The Hittite - Ben Bova [118]
“As you wish, my lord.”
I could see the thoughts running through his greedy mind. If I could pull a precious emerald ring out of my purse, what other treasures might I have in those boxes that we had carried up to my room? I realized that I couldn’t leave my room unguarded.
I detailed Hartu and Drako to stay at the inn and protect our goods. “Wear your swords,” I commanded them. “Let these busybodies see that you’re armed.”
They nodded blearily, their eyes bloodshot. I had to make an effort not to laugh at them. “You can stay in my room with the baggage and take turns napping. But wear your swords when you come out here.”
Then Helen came down, muffled in her royal-blue cloak. As if nothing had happened between us the previous day, she asked me, “Are we going to see the city?”
“We are,” I replied.
14
We made an odd pro cession as we walked through the streets of Ephesus: Helen, Poletes, my two children and I— plus Sukku, one of the Hatti soldiers we had picked up along our route from Troy.
Still muffled in her hooded cloak, Helen walked at my side. On my other side Poletes, strong enough now to walk, had tied a scarf of white silk across his useless eyes. He carried a walking stick, and was learning to tap out the ground ahead of him so that he could walk by himself. Still, he never strayed more than an arm’s length from me.
Lukkawi and Uhri ran ahead along the narrow, crooked streets, poking their heads into every doorway, chasing after every alley cat they saw, laughing and happy to be able to give free rein to their childish high spirits. Sukku plodded along behind them and never let them out of his sight.
Soon the streets widened into broad avenues paved with marble, which opened onto grand plazas flanked by gracious houses and shops bearing wares from Crete, Egypt, Babylon, even fabled India.
I saw only a few beggars on those avenues, although there were mimes and acrobats and other performers in each of the plazas, entertaining the people who, from their dress, seemed to come from the four corners of the world.
Ephesus was truly a city of culture and comfort, rich with marble temples and centers for healers to ply their craft and even a library that stored scrolls of knowledge. We walked slowly through the plazas and the growing throngs of people crowding into them. Then we came to the city’s central marketplace, and passed a knot of people gathered around an old man who was squatting on the marble paving blocks, weaving a spell of words, while his listeners tossed an occasional coin his way.
“A storyteller!” Poletes yelped.
“Not here,” I whispered to him.
“Let me stay and listen, Master Lukka,” he begged. “Please! I swear that I won’t speak a word.”
Reluctantly I allowed it. I thought I could trust Poletes’ word; it was his heart that I worried about. He was a storyteller, it was in his blood. How long could he remain silent when he had the grandest story of all time to tell to the crowd?
I decided to give him an hour to himself while Helen and I browsed through the shops and stalls of the marketplace. Even with Sukku watching after them, I kept an eye on little Uhri and Lukkawi; they kept disappearing into the crowds and then popping into sight again. Helen seemed delightedly happy to be fingering fine cloth and examining decorated pottery, bargaining with the shopkeepers and then walking on, buying nothing. I shrugged and followed her at a distance, my eyes always searching out my two boys.
The ground rumbled. A great gasping cry went up from the crowd in the marketplace. A few pots tottered off their shelves and smashed to the ground. The world seemed to sway giddily, sickeningly. In a few heartbeats the rumbling ceased and all returned to normal. For a moment the people were absolutely silent. Then a bird chirped and everyone began talking at once, with the kind of light fast banter that comes with a surge of relief from sudden terror.
My sons came running up to me, with Sukku trotting behind them, but by the time they were close enough to grasp my legs the tremor had ended.