Samuel.

Sun beat down on Samuel's back. The rope harness, tied around his waist and shoulders, left burn marks on his skin as he dragged a boulder across the quarry floor to where other slaves splintered the stones into smaller pieces.

"Mlik!" One of the guards, pointed at him, flapped his hand at something behind Samuel, and then yelled in Arabic, "Remove him!"

Samuel turned his head to focus on what the young watchman was pointing at. A slave had collapsed on the ground, still attached to a rock that was similar to Samuel's.

"Take him to the pit!" The guard yelled.

Slipping the rope harness from his arms, Sam walked towards the crumpled man, the chains on his ankles dragged in the dirt and created a billow of dust around Samuel's legs as he moved. He knelt down beside the emaciated worker, and rolled him onto his back. Dead. This was nothing new. The older men didn't survive long in the conditions they were forced to live in.

Some days Samuel prayed to die. Fed on black bread that dogs wouldn't eat, made to sleep chained to a stone walled shelter, where you shat and pissed, was worse than living in hell. His only reprieve was water. There was plenty of that, with a river running along the edge of the quarry and into the wells of the camp for the stone masons use.

Removing the ropes from the dead slave, Samuel felt nothing. A dead body was a dead body, no more and no less. He lifted the man and slung him across his shoulders, lighter than the rock he had been dragging. As he moved towards the fire pit that burned constantly, the lick of a whip caught him on the back.

"Yataharak!" Move, the sentinel yelled in Arabic.

Samuel spun slowly, his face stoney cold, the body across his shoulders held like a dead hog, and glared at the guard. He exposed his teeth, growled like a rabid dog, and then took a step towards the man, chains clinking in his wake.

The young sentry stumbled backwards. "Get back!" He quivered, stepped rearward once more and held his Khamsa amulet out towards Samuel as he recited, Surah Al-Falaq. "I seek refuge in Allah." He forced the amulet forward once more and hissed, "Shar possesses you, do not touch me, devil."

Samuel turned back to his task; his lip curled as he thought of the guard's reaction. If he could laugh, he would have. They thought he was owned by evil and if he touched them, they would be infected, because it lived in his soul, consumed him, like a leper eaten by disease. Perhaps he was evil. It surrounded him, and touched them all, every day.

Good came from their superstition. They stayed away from him. Whipped him rarely, and some even gave him food, under the belief that if they fed the beast, it would not devour them.

When he reached the pit, littered by bones, flesh and shackles of others, Sam lifted the body over his head and tossed it onto the smouldering embers like a sack of rubbish. The smell of burning bodies wafted constantly in the air. The dead slave's rags lit and flared to life. Samuel watched it burn, and then spat into the abyss. Evil could no longer harm him. He looked forward to the fire as this man did.

*

Bringing the mallet down with all the force he could muster, Samuel shattered the rock into pieces. As he lifted the hammer again, a guard jabbed him in the ribs with a pike. The force made Sam buckle, he arched sideways, using the long-handled mallet as a crutch to stop him from falling completely.

"'Asqatuha. Drop it!" The guard said, pointing at the hammer with his fighting stick. "You have to come with us."

Three more sentinels circled him, with weapons raised. Samuel eyed each one, and then dropped the hammer. They knocked him to the ground, shackled his hands, connected a chain to the collar around his neck, and then dragged him away.

*

Standing naked, braced by two guards, one on each arm, Samuel stood before Pasha Akbar. This scene had played out many times. After the first, he had been sent back to a different cell, lavish in its comforts, fed on the best food and given women to warm his bed.

After the second time he was presented to Akbar, his living arrangements were changed. For the worse, and all because he wouldn't suck the pasha's puny stinking cock. Sam took the beating he received, with pride. He would rather die than have any man's penis in his mouth.

On the third visit to the pasha, he was tied to a bed, aroused by a beautiful woman, who then rode him while the pasha watched. Akbar thought this was a successful meeting, and had Samuel's shoulder and bicep tattooed with his tribal mark of ownership.

The fourth visit was much worse. Samuel refused to let Akbar violate him. In the struggle, Sam broke two guard's skulls and another's arm. Pasha Akbar had him whipped, and then branded him with the mark of disobedience.

Sam was then sent to the quarry to drag rocks or swing a pick. With each refusal to do as Pasha Akbar wanted, his punishments had become more brutal.

On the fifth confrontation, Akbar, in a fit of fury had run a blade from Sam's left side, across his ribcage to the middle of his chest. He'd pushed the tip of the knife deep enough to scrape against bone, and then sent him to recover so he could beat him some more.

It had been a year since his life of hell had begun. He now understood the language and listened to all that was said, but rarely spoke. The fire in his soul burned hot. Today he would die and take Pasha Akbar with him.

Surah Al-Falaq – The 113th chaper of the Quran which begins with, I seek refuge in the Lord of mankind.

Hamsa, or Khamsa, is a palm-shaped amulet used throughout North Africa and the Middle East. The word means five. A number associated with the Evil Eye, the five pillars of Islam and the five fingers on the symbolic hand provides protection from the Evil Eye.

Quarry slaves had it worse than other slaves as far as survival went.  Starved and expected to work at such an intense level, their life expectancy was very short.

Photo taken from 'Son of God' movie.