“Gil!”
I had been screaming at the top of my lungs. A veneer of sweat wraps my skin. I find myself sitting up in my bed, gulping down air.
“I’m okay…” I say.
“Was it another dream?” says Kiddu.
“Yeah…”
“It sounded like a bad one.”
“Yeah, a little…”
I’m not sure if it’s day or night. It’s impossible to tell, which makes it harder for me to calm down. The torch still flickers on the wall outside my cell.
“What does he dream?” asks the native woman.
“Oh,” says Kiddu. “Good morning. Are you ready to talk to the evil Akkadians yet?”
“In my land, dreams and nightmares are not taken lightly.”
“Well, it’s none of your damn business what he dreams about. I thought we weren’t talking?”
I don’t like where this is going. “Kiddu…”
“What? If she won’t tell us anything about her, why should we tell her anything about us? Ah—aaah.”
She yawns. Apparently she had been sleeping against the wall and my screaming woke her up. I wonder if any of the imperial guards heard. I feel like an idiot.
“I’ll stay up with you for a while, if you want,” she says.
“No, it’s okay. Let’s try to get some sleep. I’m sure we have a really exciting day tomorrow.”
“Kiddu,” says the native woman. “You may sleep in the bed if you like. I am not tired.”
Kiddu yawns again. For a while she doesn’t say anything. Then: “Thanks.”
I hear the rustle of her clothes and then a creak as she drops onto the mattress. After only a minute, I hear her snoring.
“Do you love her?”
The young native woman speaks in a low half-whisper that nevertheless shakes me out of my stupor. It takes a few moments for the question to sink in.
“What? Do I love who?”
“Kiddu.”
I hesitate.
I have no idea how to answer. I’ve known Kiddu since we were little kids and obviously I’ve had a crush on her from time to time, but—what kind of stupid icebreaker is this supposed to be?
“Yeah,” I finally say, quietly. “I mean, I guess I do. I mean—like a sister.”
“You are a bad liar.”
“What are you talking about?”
I’m glad she’s talking, but I sure as hell don’t want to talk about this.
What would she know, anyway?
“I was in love once.”
This just hangs in the air for a while.
“What happened?”
“He was killed by Akkadian soldiers.”
“Oh…”
“And the men who killed him took me and they—had their way with me.”
I sit up in my bed. I suddenly feel very stupid and childish.
“And now, I am here.”
I try to come up with some sort of comforting or sympathetic response to this but I don’t think there is any. The torchlight flickers, counting out the seconds of awkward silence.
“Why are you telling me this?” I say.
“Because … I do not want to hate you. It is difficult for me, after what happened. It is tempting and easy to simply hate all the Akkadians. But I do not want to. I am getting tired of it.”
“Well…”
“And also to warn you. Do not let yourself fall in love. You walk a tightrope between sin on the one side and unimaginable grief and hatred on the other. It is better to not love at all, and only obey the will of Asham.”
I clear my throat. My eyes are watery. I wipe them on my dusty sleeve.
“I don’t think I really have a choice about how I feel,” I say.
“Perhaps not.”
“I meant what I said earlier, you know. About not being one of them—”
“I know.”
I smile, relieved.
“But you are still a sinner.”
“Psh,” I say. “I know what you are, but what am I?”
“What?”
“I know what you are, but—heh, sorry, it’s just something me and Kiddu say when we’re making fun of each other. I didn’t mean anything by it. Just sort of blurted it out.”
“I see.”
I struggle for something to fill the near silence, punctuated every now and then by Kiddu’s tremendous snores. I feel thankful and a little guilty towards this woman for opening up to me. I wonder if she’s ever told anyone what she just said. Or if she’s had the chance.
“What are you reading?” I ask.
“An Akkadian book. They gave it to me several weeks ago. I have already finished it, if you would like to read it.”
She hooks her arm out through the gate and around the cell wall, book in hand. I reach out and take the small leatherbound tome, careful not to touch her fingers lest I violate some native rule of male-female decorum. It’s dusty green with the scarlet ziggurat-and-eye Akkadian emblem on it.
“The Encyclopedia Akkadia?”
“I offered it to Kiddu earlier, but she said it would only put her to sleep.”
I flip through the book. I’m pretty sure the Temple had a copy in its small library but I never read it.
“Thanks.”
She doesn’t answer.