In Every Iteration
An Eye For an Eye
Hollow lute music echoed softly in the hall of King Hammurabi. He sat on a great bronze and copper throne, flanked by imposing stone statues of lions. Several of his advisors and scribes sat in front of him on wooden benches and stools, scratching away at soft clay tablets. Soft flames flickered along the walls and cast strange shadows on the glazed brick reliefs of Hammurabi’s great deeds and conquests.
His favorite court musician sat on a cushion directly next to his king and noticed when his eyes began to flutter and his head dipped. The man gave the ruler of the greatest empire in the known world an imperceptible nudge with the edge of his instrument. Hammurabi’s eye flicked toward his favorite servant. He stood from his throne to signal the end of the day’s court session.
Maat
The relentless sun shined down on the construction site and glinted off the tips of the guards’ many spears. Thousands of laborers worked to move monumental blocks of limestone across the sunbaked earth.
Meskhenet strained against his rope and felt it cut into his skin, rubbing it raw. He grunted as he took another step forward, his muscles accumulated from years of hard farm work coiling underneath his skin. He was so hot and thirsty, but he knew it would be a long time before they would have a break to drink water and rest for a few scant moments. His throat felt as parched and dusty as the desert beneath his feet.
He was stationed at the back of the line of men pulling the huge slab of rock. Directly behind him was the overseer and the water throwers. He envied them. Their sole duty was to throw water onto the sand in front of the moving sled to make it easier to pull. According to one of the older laborers, the job actually required a lot of skill and quick calculations to make sure the sand had the correct consistency, the perfect stiffness. He thought it was a waste of manpower and water.
He stumbled for a moment over some unseen rock and almost fell to his knees. He had trouble standing back up and the overseer walked over to him and lashed his back with his whip. Meskhenet’s eyes watered when he stood back up and continued pulling. Black spots began to appear in his vision and the sounds around him became muffled and indistinct. Some dim far away part of his mind recognized the first signs of heat exhaustion.
Suddenly, he felt something cool and wet splash against his heels. His thoughts crystallized and he looked behind himself for a moment, feigning to wipe his sweaty face against his shoulder. The water thrower nearest to him had an impassive face and looked intensely at his work. After he turned around he felt another refreshing caress of water, this time against the back of his knees. The overseer shouted at the clumsy water thrower, threatening to whip him.
Come and Take Them
“I worked with the best architects in all my lands to build my city walls. No foreign army will ever penetrate them. Daedalus himself could do no better. ”
“Yes, I have to agree. These are fine women’s quarters, indeed.”
Morituri te Salutamus
A dimachaerus circled around his latest opponent, nimbly dodging the thrusts of the man’s trident. He had fought in many games and knew to avoid committing himself to some ill-fated offensive. He was quick and his endurance allowed him to outlast most other gladiators so that he could wait for the perfect opening to strike. His calculating eyes flicked to and fro, attempting to keep track of his current opponent along with any fighters who neared the pair.
The colosseum was awash in blood and gore as scores of men fought for their lives in the chaotic maelstrom. The cries of men dying and the clang of metal against metal were drowned out by the rabid screams of thousands of spectators. The retiarius advanced upon him and tried to tangle his legs with a desperate throw of his net but missed. This gave the dimachaerus the opportunity dart close to the other gladiator, blocking his trident with one sword and stabbing him through the heart with the other.
Before he could disengage with his dead opponent, he was knocked to the side by an avalanche of solid wood and muscle. One of his swords was still stuck in the dead retiarius when he fell onto his back into the dirt. The impact winded him and he was gasping for air when the murmillo stood over him and prepared to acquaint his jugular with a legionnaire gladius. The dimachaerus closed his eyes in preparation of a strike that never came. When he opened them, he saw the murmillo impaled on a hoplomachus’s spear.
The hoplomachus flicked the body off of his weapon with one skilled movement. He picked up the murmillo’s fallen gladius and tossed it to the dimachaerus with a grin before wading back into the tumultuous fray.
La Saloniere
“I’m so glad you agreed to grace my humble get together with your presence, Mademoiselle Geoffrin.”
“The pleasure is all mine. I am honored to have received an invitation to Madame de Tencin’s famous salon. And please, call me Marie.”
“In that case, I insist you call me Claudine,” said Madame de Tencin before lightly kissing her younger guest’s cheeks.
The Killer Angels
Two men sat on a small sandy hill outside of the new city of Los Angeles. They’re backs were pressed together and they gazed in opposite directions into the night. One of them passed a flask of whiskey to the other and sighed.
“I’m gonna miss you, Hancock.”
“Me too, Armistead.”
“Take care of yourself. I hope the next time we meet it’ll be after the war,” Armistead stood up and brushed off the sand from his uniform and left.
100 Flowers
“My parents say that I shouldn’t play with you because your family is bad.”
Two little girls stood at a river bank. One girl was dangling her feet in the water and poking at it with a stick. The wind rustled through the leaves and made the ribbons in the other girl’s hair ripple.
“They told me your father is an evil man. They say he is capitalist who exploits his workers for his own personal gain. That he is an enemy of the proletariat and the revolution.”
The other girl said nothing and continued jabbing at the water. The girl with little ribbons in her hair stood there for some time before kneeling down to hug her friend.
“But I don’t think you’re bad.”