Twilight in Babylon Read Online Free PDF

bearded man said to Chloe. “Do you need anything else?”
    “Pomegranates,” she said. “Their skins, if nothing else. I know it’s spring, but—”
    The bearded man looked into Chloe’s face. “I’ll get them.”
    She smiled. “Thank you.” She followed Kalam out of the garden and into a long, narrow room. Her eyes took a minute to adjust to the darkness.
    “This is a copper tub,” he said to her. “Get in it, and the slave will wash you.”
    She didn’t know what it was about his tone, but it made her backbone stiffen. He left the room, and she took off her skirt, hid her tablet in its folds, and climbed into the tub. The water was warm, warmer than the Euphrates in the spring, but not as hot as the Euphrates in the summertime.
    “The Euphrates!” she said out loud, as if she’d never heard the word before. “Sacred dung!”
    *      *     *
    “By Sin, what a change! Come, come. Here are your pomegranate husks,” the bearded man said.
    Chloe walked in, aware that bathing and shaving had given her every advantage.
Men love beautiful women, and men fear smart women, but a beautiful smart woman can have the world in her lily white palms.
It was a voice in her head; an accent she’d never heard and words that weren’t like her own. But it was comforting; it made her smile. “Thank you,” she said to him.
    “Fetch the female some beer,” the bearded man said over his shoulder. Two young boys brought in a jar that stood as tall as her waist and set it between her and the bearded man. The boys gave each of them footstools, thrust drinking tubes into the neck of the jar, and gave one to Chloe and one to her host.
    “I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t believe I know your name?”
    “Ningal,” he said. “Seventh son of a son from the First Family, but I gather you know little about them, being from the marshes.”
    “No, I’m afraid I don’t.”
    “Drink up,” he said, slurping on the beer. “It’s good.”
    The brew was sweet and heavy, instantly refreshing. “It’s delicious,” she said. “I don’t know these flavors.”
    “The ale-wife who makes this brew is famous for her mixture of spices. I particularly like this cinnamon and cloves with honey beer. It doesn’t go well with food, but it’s tasty before or after a meal.”
    “It is,” Chloe agreed.
    Ningal leaned back in his chair, and the sunlight fell on his chest and legs. He might be white-bearded, but his body was strong and well-defined, his skin still supple even though it was tanned as dark as leather. “As I told you, I would like you to make a report to the
lugal.
Maybe even more, perhaps to the two houses who rule the commonwealth, just to give them an idea of what kind of damage we’re facing.”
    “What does it matter to you?” she asked, sipping her beer.
    “What?” he said, turning his ear toward her.
    “Why does it matter to the thirty thousand humans here, what happened on the marsh?” she said, louder.
    “We buy our cattle from small villages like yours, we need to know if there is going to be less supply so we can make alternative plans. Also, it’s necessary to calculate the taxes on those clients who own property in those fields. The commonwealth gets a percentage. And,” he said with a sigh, “we have to figure if the commonwealth will be supporting extra humans who can’t support themselves. That has been our lot recently. Too many humans. Mostly, though, we care because that is what humanity is.”
    She leaned forward, listening.
    Ningal smiled at her. “What makes us different here in Ur is not because we know Ziusudra is alive and well, or because we read and write. It’s because we are aware we’re not the only ones on the Plain of Shinar. Others might need help, care. We are the more affluent, thus it is our responsibility to help our kin.” He sat forward, looking at her.
    “You know we are all kin, don’t you? Even though your eyes are different colors and mine are