The Minoan Rhapsody

Atal-s'en

One by one, Keiftu ships returned home, anchored at Knossos harbor, unauthorized to reach the shore. Foreign laborers filled their decks, unknowing what demands were to be made from them, for how long or under what conditions they would be in. They didn't care. Lifetime wages were promised with generous advances, more wealth than they, their parents and grandparents together had seen before. They were Nubians and Etruscans, Thracians and Myceneans, Lusitanians and Phoenicians.

Yidini and Pasiphae visited each ship on a small, six-oar vessel topped with a tent. She called to the attention of those on-board, speaking out loud in each of the eight tongues she knew. A handful of potential translators were identified, versed in two or three tongues, not what Yidini was looking for. With only a couple of more ships to go, Yidini's restlessness was visible. He didn't hear Pasiphae's words to remain calm. With no more ships to visit, his eyes locked on one last incoming vessel. He didn't wait for the ship to anchor. He boarded with Pasiphae.

A man caught Pasiphae's attention. Light-brown skinned with deep green-eyes set under thick black eyebrows. His hair was short-cut and although his cheeks and neck were shaven, he had an overgrown moustache that covered his mouth. He was skinny and wore a tailed, blue tunic. "What is your name?" Pasiphae asked him in Egyptian.

"Atal-s'en," the man answered.

"Where are you from?" She asked in Greek.

"Mitanni."

"Do you have any family?" She continued in Hittite.

"Had a wife once," Atal-s'en answered in Nubian. "She's now dead. No children."

"How many tongues do you speak?" Pasiphae asked in Hurrian.

"Twelve, I think," he answered in Lusitanian.

"I'm sorry I don't know that tongue."

"I guess I won then," Atal-s'en answered in Colchian with smiling eyes. "You are from Colchis, aren't you?"

"I guess he must be the one," Yidini interrupted.

"He is your translator. You can speak to him now." Pasiphae looked at Atal-s'en out of the corner of her eye as she headed back to her boat.

"Come along," Yidini waived Atal-s'en in.

#

Yidini and Atal-s'en sat by a table on the beach. He served two cups. He also poured water in one of the cups and gave it to the Mitannian. He then proceeded to speak about the job he needed done. More specifically, the instructions he wanted disseminated to the laborers.

Atal-s'en listened attentive to every word Yidini spoke. He lowered his head, pensive.

"Anything wrong?" Yidini ask.

Atal-s'en's eyes turned cold. "I will do this work for you, under certain conditions."

"Certain conditions?" Yidini scoffed. "We are paying you more than handsomely. You should be grateful you will not be cutting stone or making mud bricks."

"You should thank your Gods I came here, and you found me so swiftly," he scowled.

"You think of yourself very highly, I see."

"How many ships did you go to, looking for a translator? Fifteen? Twenty? Twenty-two at my count, not taking in consideration the docked, Colchian ships. You didn't even wait for my ship to anchor. You were desperate."

Yidini pressed his lips.

"What do you think will be the chance of another one like me coming here anytime soon? Now, do you want to hear my conditions, or should I get ready to carry stones? Either way, I'll be fine."