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Terah put a finger to his lips and pointed to the door. Wedum silently manipulated the handle and helped Terah inside to a chair. He grabbed two candles and lit them from the torch on the wall outside. “Anything else I can get you?” he mouthed.
“Lots of water and a walking stick,” Terah breathed, quieter than a whisper.
Wedum hurried off while Terah rested on his right cheek and flexed limbs and digits and felt for puncture wounds everywhere he could reach. His body was a disaster. All he wanted was to bathe, treat his wounds, and change into a fresh tunic.
Wedum returned with more than a huge pot of water. He had refashioned the wood post Terah found. Wedum had broken off the widest expanses of wood and shortened the rest to where Terah could use it as a crutch.
But that wasn’t all. “I found Mutuum looking for me. He’s outside and he has news.”
Terah motioned to bring him in, but again put a finger to his lips.
The younger, shorter servant’s eyes grew wide in the low light. “Oh, sir,” Mutuum said, “what the dogs have done to you …”
“You and Wedum will help me, and I will be fine. Now, what news?”
Mutuum gleamed and could not seem to suppress a grin. “I have become a father,” he whispered. “I have a son!”
Terah forced a weary smile and shook a fist at him. “Glory to the gods!”
“With your permission, master, we want to name him after you.”
Terah was touched. “Are you sure? Are there not other servants’ children bearing my name?”
“Only two,” Mutuum said. “We would be so honored …”
“The honor is mine, son.”
“You are still bleeding,” Wedum said. “I must mix clay and mud for your shoulder. And I will find ointments.”
“I also need a clean tunic and my wife’s reflection plate.” He pointed to the draped entrance to the room where Belessunu slept. “Just inside the doorway, but be very quiet.”
Wedum and Mutuum looked at each other, terror in their eyes.
“It’s all right!” Terah said. “You have my permission. Just do not wake her.”
The servants finally agreed that Wedum would go outside to concoct a pack for Terah’s shoulder while Mutuum would creep just far enough into the sleep chamber to fetch the items Terah requested.
Mutuum soon returned with a hand over his chest, as if he had barely escaped and could breathe again. “The mistress snores,” he said, setting aside the shiny plate and the tunic.
Mutuum helped Terah disrobe and began gently dabbing at his wounds while Wedum applied the mudpack. It felt cool to his shoulder, though the pressure only increased his pain. The bite appeared to have nearly reached the bone, leaving gristly flesh in its wake.
Mutuum dipped a rag into the water and reached toward Terah’s face.
“No, let me see first.”
Mutuum positioned one of the candles so it illuminated Terah, and he finally dared lift the polished plate before him. Oh no! Worse than he’d feared. Much worse. Regardless what his servants did, there would be no masking this before daybreak.
Caked blood from gouges on his head and face stiffened his hair and beard. Bruises covered his cheekbones, and streaks of color had already begun encircling his eyes. His swollen nose and lips made him nearly unrecognizable. He could only imagine what Belessunu would think.
“We must do what we can,” Terah said, knowing Belessunu would ask questions he didn’t want to answer. “She cannot see me this way.”
The servants spent nearly another hour washing Terah’s hair and applying various salves to the punctures in his scalp and face. Yet every time he looked into the plate, his face looked only more dreadful. While they had removed the dried blood from his hair and beard and combed them out, the ugly colors continued to spread. By now the whites of his eyes appeared monstrously red with blood.
Wedum and Mutuum patted Terah dry and pulled the clean tunic over his head. He took a last look at his reflection. “I cannot believe I actually look worse than I feel,” he said.
“You do not feel bad?” Mutuum said.
“I feel terrible!” he said and had to press a hand over his mouth to keep from bursting into laughter. “I don’t know what will happen with this ankle, but I believe everything else will heal in time. But how long will it take for this face?”
The servants looked at each other. Two or three weeks, they decided. “Probably three,” Wedum said. “You could stay with me, master. We could tell your mistress you have gone on a three-week lion hunt. Surely you will look better when you return.”
“A lion attack would only improve how I look!”
Both servants held their sides and pressed their lips together. Finally, Wedum said, “Shall I prepare a place for you while you heal?”
“Thank you, but our own child is due soon. My wife will get used to my face in time, but she would never forgive my being away when she gives birth. Anyway, how would I explain my absence to the king?”
The men nodded. “I must get back to my wife and baby Terah,” Mutuum said.
“Yes,” Terah said, “and, Wedum, in the morning, can you get to the palace early and summon Ikuppi of the king’s guard?”
“I don’t know him.”
“Any guard can point you to him. Tell him you bear a message from me. He is to inform the king that I will return to court as soon as our child is born. And have Ikuppi come here after first meal.”
“I will, master,” Wedum said, “and—” He stopped abruptly and held up both hands, pointing to the bedroom. It sounded as if Belessunu was rising.
“Douse the candles!” Terah hissed.
The light disappeared just before Belessunu came shuffling out, feeling her way to the kitchen. The men sat rigid in the darkness as she pulled a piece of bread from a loaf and poured herself a cup of water. She sat heavily and Terah heard her eating.
Belessunu stopped midchew and turned slowly, apparently aware of the men’s silhouettes. “Lord God, spare me!” she said, her voice shaky and high. “Whoever you are and whatever you want, my husband will be home presently!”
“Calm yourself, wife,” Terah said. “It is only I and Wedum and Mutuum. They have come to announce the news of Mutuum’s new son. They have named the boy after me!”
“Oh! Oh!” she said. “Why are you sitting in the dark?”
“We didn’t want to wake you,” Terah said.
“You’d rather scare me to death?”
“Apologies!” Wedum said.
“Yes, so sorry,” Mutuum said.
She stood. “Praise God for your child, son. I must come and see little Terah soon.”
“Perhaps after dawn,” Mutuum said.
“Expect us,” she said. “And tell my servant girls not to come here tomorrow but to meet me at Mutuum’s house.”
“Expect only her,” Terah said. “I will not be able to rise so early.”
“Been up praying to your carvings, have you?” his wife said.
“I did a lot of praying tonight, yes, love. Will you let me sleep?”
“Of course,” Belessunu said. And she trundled back through the drapery to bed.