Pieces of Dust by Kyla Hedge Bineil stood quiet and unimposing against the wall as soldiers dragged in boxes that clanked and rattled with the movement of hundreds upon hundreds of clay tablets grinding against each other. The men had been ordered to treat the items with care, and for the most part, they did, but every time Bineil heard a particularly large clank he winced. If even one of those tablets became damaged, Master Khaled would have his head. As a servant to Master Khaled, Beneil was little better than a slave. He was given the privilege of a small payment for his work and he was free to go home at night to a home of his choosing. The tasks he was given at work were always slightly better than the slaves and he was much less likely to be whipped for doing something wrong, although it had happened on occasion. Master Khaled ran around from room to room, yelling and waving his hands in men s faces. He was often in charge of the main part of the library. He and a few other masters made sure the tablets were placed in the proper spot, catalogued any new arrivals, and assisted scholars who came in looking for specific works. At the moment, he was overseeing the relocation of the contents of King Ashurbanipal s library into storage areas that the masters hoped would protect the items against the invasion. Everything was being stored in crates and stacked on top of each other. The room was half full already and Bineil knew that only the Babylonian and some Assyrian texts had been moved so far. While chaos inhabited the library, it was nothing compared to the chaos outside in the city. Enemies of Assyria had descended upon the city yesterday afternoon and they were slowly working their way closer to the palace. They ransacked and burned homes and killed anyone who got in their way. It scared Bineil, so he had spent the night in the library, too afraid to go outside. Bineil! Master Khaled was coming toward him an angry look on his face. You are supposed to be out boxing the tablets. Why are you standing around in here? I m sorry, Master. I was only taking a small break to see how much space was left in this room. Bineil kept his eyes to the ground and his voice low. A slap was likely the worst punishment he would get right now, but he still wanted to avoid that at all costs. There is no time for breaks, boy! The enemy could be here any moment. We have to save as much as we can! Get back to work, now. He growled the last word menacingly before going off to berate someone else. Bineil exited the room and returned to the shelves he had been emptying before. Two rows over, another servant was boxing tablets as well.
Where did you go, Bineil? he asked, never pausing in his task. Bineil picked up a tablet and placed it in the empty box sitting next to him. The next tablet he placed gently on top of that. I went to see where the tablets are being taken, Toma. There is not enough room for all of these. The masters should have chosen less items. Bineil thought that perhaps none of these marked up hunks of clay were worth anyone s time and effort while a battle raged outside. What Beneil really wanted was to be outside fighting for the city like his brother. The problem with that was that he was short and skinny and could barely even lift a sword, but that never stopped him from dreaming. Besides that, there was also the fact that Beneil was afraid. He was afraid of getting hurt and he was afraid of dying. Another tablet went into the box, Beneil sighed. Why waste time with that? The faster we get this done the faster we can get out of here. Toma thought there was a chance of escaping the invasion. Beneil did not understand where he planned to go, down the Tigris River in a boat or to hide somewhere until it was all over? Either way, Bineil did not think it mattered. He was the pessimistic type and he was pretty sure Nineveh was going to be nothing but smoking rubble when this was all over. For the next several hours, Bineil meticulously filled boxes with the precious tablets of King Ashurbanipal s library while soldiers scurried around securing the valuables in the storage room and Master Khaled ran around barking orders at anyone he could find. Sometimes Beneil would pause to look at the markings the tablets held. He could not read what any of them said, but he wondered what the scribbles could mean and why they seemed so important to so many people. Bineil figured they must hold the secrets of life or at least a great recipe to garner so much attention. Toma, who was moving much faster than Beneil, was packing tablets from the other side of the large, rectangular room. Beneil was thinking of slipping out to take a break when there was a loud rumble from outside and the candles, tablets, and shelves shook along with the walls and the floor. Toma ran over, his eyes as wide and fearful as Bineil figured his were. They re here. He whispered loudly as if afraid the enemy soldiers would hear him, but still knowing that to be impossible. We must go. He turned to run, but Bineil grabbed his arm. No, we must hide. We would never be able to outrun them. But they do not know this place like we do. Toma nodded hesitantly. As they moved away from the shelves, they had to weave their way through soldiers running toward the battle and masters and scribes running away from it. Bineil s first thought was to go to the storage room where the boxes of tablets were being stacked. Another loud rumble shook the building and Toma stumbled. Bineil hauled him up straight and dragged him along. The storage room was now empty save for the stacked boxes that stood taller than Bineil by a few inches. Bineil stopped just at the entrance to the room. A turned over box lay near his feet, crumbled chunks of clay and dust were splattered around it. Bineil supposed the rumbling had knocked it down and others at the top of the stacks looked in danger of succumbing to the same fate. Toma and Bineil could not hide in this room. The door had been left wide open and it was too large and heavy for the two to close by themselves from the inside and they would
surely be crushed by boxes of tablets if the enemy did not find them and kill them first. But Bineil knew of a better place. When he got bored of the tasks given to him by Master Khaled, he would take breaks and roam around this area of the palace. However, in order to avoid getting into too much trouble, he would have to sneak around to avoid his Master. These stealthy excursions gave Bineil an intimate knowledge of the spaces in the palace library most people did not go or even know existed. He dragged Toma into the storage room, weaving their way around boxes toward the back. There Bineil moved aside a tapestry depicting a serene lake surrounded by greenery and little animals Bineil had no names for. It was rumored to be King Ashurbanipal s most treasured piece of land. A place where he would go for short periods of time to escape the trials of ruling on high every day. Behind the tapestry was a door no more than half the size of a normal door. It was made of dark wood with iron hinges. There was no handle or lock. Bineil looked back at Toma s curious and nervous face before slowly pushing the door open. The room on the other side was small. Bineil could lay down, spread his arms and reach every wall. No candles burned in the windowless space, leaving the room in total darkness save for the faint light coming from behind the two servants. Outlined in the faint light, were several more boxes exactly like the ones in the larger room. These boxes were not stacked as high, however, and the room only held about fifteen of them. One of the masters must have known about this room and secured the most important tablets here for better protection. Bineil pushed Toma into the room. Go to the back and sit down. He turned around, replaced the tapestry, and closed the door. The room became pitch black. Bineil held his hands out and tentatively shuffled forward. Toma you should say something so I know which direction to go. Toma started a dialogue about a day he had a week ago that involved an angry merchant, several ruined fruits, and what had to be the world s best smelling camel. If the situation were not so dire, Bineil would have laughed at his tale. While Toma went on in a quiet, shaky tone, Bineil inched his way around boxes nearly topling one over on his foot at one point until he heard Toma s voice right below him and the man let out a gasp and groan when Bineil stepped on his hand. He settled in across from his friend. Their feet touching to know the other was still there and had not been swallowed by the darkness. They sat in silence for what felt like hours listening for movement outside, too afraid to talk for fear of being heard. The rumbling became more frequent until it stopped and Bineil began to hear shouts and stomping feet. When it grew loud enough to be coming from the other side of the door, crashes and the sound of shattering clay started. Toma curled into a little ball, his breathing fast. Bineil was shaking. He pressed himself into the corner as far as he could and held his breath as if the enemy soldiers could hear every tiny sigh that slipped through his lips. Bineil felt bad for all of the knowledge being destroyed outside and he felt angry for his and Toma s hard work having been for nothing. With every crash, Bineil and Toma both flinched. Eventually the crashing stopped and the voices and stomping feet drifted away. Tomas
began to pray quietly under his breath and Bineil assumed he had been doing so silently the entire time. Bineil, sitting there in the dark listening to Toma s prayers, fell asleep with his head supported by the stone wall next to him. He dreamed of symbols he could not understand floating over his head. He tried to grab them, but they shattered with the slightest touch and tiny clay chunks would rain down over his head. Clay dust irritated Bineil s eyes. Toma was there. Yelling something at him soundlessly. The light began to grow darker and Toma became more distant. He held his hand out trying to reach his friend, but Toma continued to yell and grow more distant the light fading even more until Bineil could not see him anymore and he was left alone in the dark. He jerked awake with a sharp intake of breath and listened intently for any sounds. The only sound he heard was Toma breathing light and even in his sleep. He felt his way up to Toma s arm and shook him. the man jumped and retreated as far as he could into the corner where he had been sitting. It s just me, Toma. whispered Bineil. We both fell asleep. I think we can check outside now. I don t know, Bineil. They will still be out there. He replied uncertainly. Yes, but we will starve if we stay in here. Maybe it is night and we can sneak away to somewhere else. Somewhere with food. Come, we cannot stay here. Bineil stood and Toma did the same, slowly. Now move slowly behind me with your hands out. We don t want to knock over any boxes. They began a very slow trek around the boxes to the other side of the room. When they reached the door, Bineil inched it open so slowly that it took several minutes, but it did not make a sound. When the door was open enough to see and reach his hand out, he gentle and slowly moved the tapestry aside. The room on the other side was dark and silent. Bineil could tell it was night out because during the daytime enough light shined in through the windows on the left and right that candles were unnecessary. He listened for any movement, but heard nothing so he eased out from behind the tapestry which he noticed had a jagged tear down the middle ending just above the door frame. Toma stayed under the cover of the tapestry peaking out the side. There was enough moonlight shining through the windows to illuminate the destruction that lay at Bineil s feet. Nearly every inch was covered in shattered clay and broken boxes. the tablets so badly destroyed that not even one symbol was readable. As he stepped further into the room, his feet kicked up dust that must have flown around the room like a sandstorm as the enemy destroyed the tablets. Further ahead and off to the left Bineil spotted a body. He did not go any closer, but he could tell from where he stood that it was Master Khaled. He shook his head. The man had thought these now piles of rubble were so important that he had not fled when the invasion began. Toma gasped beside him, having slipped out from behind the tapestry when nothing horrible happened to Bineil. What was the point? Asked Toma. Of what?
All of it. Why bother trying to pack all of these tablets up to save them from being destroyed and why bother destroying them? I suppose the Master s thought these bricks held some valuable information. Maybe secrets or answers. And I suppose the enemy thought the same thing and they didn t want anyone to have it or they just wanted to destroy something that had been King Ashurbanipal s. Either way, they were useless to us and I won t miss them. Stated Bineil as he moved toward the exit. Trampling over the debris of objects. The tablets had been a daily part of his life. Move these over here, put those over there, sweep around these and if he had so much as ever chipped one he would have been whipped or worse. So maybe these hunks of dirt had been something important. He wanted to believe that someone could have taken the knowledge the tablets may have held and used it to change the world, but no one had ever bothered to share their knowledge with Bineil and he, for one, would not miss the scribbled on pieces of dust.