Conflict of Empires (2010)

by Sam Barone

  “No. My father has ordered me never to return to his house.” If Lady Trella had summoned him to talk about his father, he would take his leave.

  “Then I may have something that may interest you. As you may be aware, I know some of the mysteries of gold and the smelting of ores. I’ve learned of a place that may have a good quantity of gold. I need someone to examine the site, and report back to me. If there is sufficient ore of high quality, I may wish to establish a mine there, to extract the gold and anything else of value. Your father Asmar says you know much about such things.”

  Orodes found it hard to believe that his father had said anything good about his wayward son. “There are several areas where copper can be found in the eastern foothills, Lady Trella,” Orodes said. “Even my father has laid claim to one such place with the Chief Judge.”

  Copper, of course, was the most important metal. With copper and tin, combined in the right proportion, you could make bronze, and from bronze came tools and weapons. Where you found copper ores, you usually also found traces of gold, silver, lead, tin, and arsenic, as well as other useful metals. Each site would have these metals in varying qualities and quantities. But all the mines were in the far north at the base of the steppes, or the distant east, in the foothills of the Zargos Mountains.

  Orodes shook his head. “There is little enough copper near here. You might find a few pockets of gold along the Tigris, but most of those have already been harvested.”

  “Still, I would like someone to examine this place and determine its potential. If there is sufficient supply of the noble metals, I might need a skilled smith to establish the mining operation. I’m told that you have the necessary knowledge for such a task. Is this something you would consider?”

  Orodes would indeed. His father had driven him from his house partly because Orodes, in his twenty-third season, had already mastered all the mysteries of gold, copper and bronze. He also wanted to change his father’s procedures for smelting the ores and refining the metals. Orodes believed that with some experimentation he could improve those procedures, and produce higher-quality metals in greater quantities.

  Asmar, a capable and skillful metal worker, saw no reason to change anything in his craft, or try anything new. Father and son had disagreed often, until Asmar in his anger sent the disobedient son east to his brother’s mine, where Orodes was supposed to remain until he learned to be a dutiful son, obedient to his father and elder brothers. Or, as it happened, until the master smith at the mine grew so annoyed at Orodes’s constant and vexatious suggestions that he threw him out.

  Of course, Trella would know all these embarrassing facts. Her spies, as everyone agreed, knew everything about every household in the city. And, of course, she knew about copper and where it was likely to be found. Telling her she might be wrong probably wasn’t a good idea. He focused his gaze on her eyes. She sat there patiently, letting him collect his thoughts, waiting for him to realize the full import of the conversation. He noticed that her eyes never left his face, always seeking to learn more about him. Those same eyes also hinted that she knew more than she said.

  The silence lengthened, and he realized that he hadn’t answered her question. “Yes, Lady Trella, I can examine a prospective mining site, and tell you what’s worth digging for. With the proper resources, I can establish the smelters, kilns, crucibles and furnaces, and convert the ores into the required metals.”

  Trella nodded. “All the gold and silver from the mine would come to Akkad, but the master smith in charge of the site would be well paid. How well paid would depend on what is found, and how much can be taken from the earth. Are you interested in such a task?”

  Orodes opened his mouth, then closed it again. Those who oversaw a mine usually owned at least a part of it. Trella was offering to pay him for his skills, like any common laborer. Still, it was not an unreasonable offer considering he had no status as a master craftsman, no patron to succor him. He decided to ask for more. “What share of the mine would be mine, Lady Trella?”

  She smiled at the bold question. “None. Not at first. You would be paid fairly, but if you wish to earn a share you will have to produce a steady and significant supply of ores, delivered on time, and without any being lost to the workers. If you can accomplish that, I would consider an arrangement where you would own a share of the mine’s output in the future. As I said, this mine belongs to the king, and whatever is extracted from the earth will be used for Akkad’s needs. And in selecting you for this task, I am taking something of a risk.”

  He would be a paid laborer, nothing more. Nevertheless, anything was preferable to starving in the streets of Akkad. And it would gall his father to learn that his wayward son had taken an important assignment from Lady Trella, even if it turned out to be nothing. “I would accept such a task, Lady Trella.”

  She turned to Annok-sur, who sat quietly across the room, apparently uninterested in the conversation. “Can you bring in Tooraj?”

  Without saying anything, Annok-sur rose and left the room.

  “You realize, Orodes,” Trella went on, “that there must be no drinking, no wandering off, and not a word must be said to anyone about the mine. The first time you are found drunk will be your last. Remember that.”

  Orodes understood. Only a fool would risk Trella’s displeasure. Besides, he drank only because he had nothing else. With an opportunity such as she offered, he would have no need to drink himself into a stupor.

  Annok-sur returned, a soldier with the Hawk Clan emblem stitched on his tunic following her. The man wore a patch over his left eye.

  Trella rose. “Welcome Tooraj. It is good to see you again.”

  Orodes felt surprise. The queen of Akkad had risen to her feet to greet a common soldier. Or not so common, he realized. Members of the Hawk Clan were few in number.

  The soldier bowed, much lower than Orodes’s simple incline of the head. “My thanks to you and King Eskkar.”

  “This is the young man I spoke of. His name is Orodes, and I place him in your care.”

  That sounded reasonable enough, but the cold stare that Tooraj’s one eye fixed on Orodes made him realize that the soldier not only knew of Orodes’s past indiscretions, but didn’t intend to tolerate any more of them.

  She said to Orodes. “Tooraj will be in charge of the expedition to examine the mine. Please obey all his instructions.” She turned to the soldier. “Are you ready to depart?”

  “Yes, Lady Trella. My men and I are waiting.”

  “Good. Annok-sur will accompany you both to the docks. If there is anything you need to take with you, Orodes, let her know.”

  With a shock, Orodes realized that they meant leave now, this moment. Realizing he had been dismissed, Orodes pushed himself to his feet, to find Lady Trella again smiling at him.

  “Good luck, Orodes. I hope we can talk again soon, when you’re ready to tell me what you’ve found.”

  Her smile, as much as her hopeful words, caught him by surprise. In that moment, he realized how beautiful she was, and how much he wanted to please her. The strange sensation stayed with him all the way to the docks.

  10

  That evening, Eskkar’s most senior commanders joined him for dinner at the Compound. The gathering included Gatus, Bantor, Hathor the Egyptian, and Yavtar. No other guests attended. During the meal, the soldiers took their lead from their host. No one spoke about the coming war. That topic remained far too important to discuss in front of the servants and guards.

  The setting sun hadn’t yet touched the horizon, but the heat of the day was fading when Eskkar and his guests left the supper table in the courtyard. Eskkar led the way to the tiny garden at the rear of the house, a private place usually reserved for his and Trella’s use.

  The five men settled comfortably on their seats, relaxing after a long day and still pleasantly full of food after the bountiful meal Lady Trella’s cooks had served. A servant brought a pitcher of ale, in case anyone wanted something strong
er than water, and set it on the table before leaving Akkad’s leaders alone. A pitcher of fresh well water and cups rested in the center of the table.

  The evening air would be pleasant and far more relaxing than Eskkar’s workroom. The inner walls of the courtyard, whitewashed to a cool white, formed two sides of a square. The house itself, rising up to the second story, provided a third side. The fourth side opened up into the rearmost part of the main courtyard.

  A well nearby provided fresh water for the Compound, and Eskkar had washed the dust from his body many times in the last two, no, now nearly three years that he lived there. Four wooden flower boxes extended along the base of the walls. The first of summer’s tulips provided tiny cups of purple, red and yellow scattered among the white lilies and the flax plant’s blue flowers. A bench stood against the side of the house, and two young trees gave just enough shade to cover the small table centered beneath them.

  Eskkar enjoyed the semi-private enclosure. The servants respected their master’s special place, and ventured into the rear of the house only for urgent matters. He and Trella had made love here more than once, and they both enjoyed the peaceful surroundings. The trees had grown higher since he first took possession of the house. The assassin who had tried to kill Trella had been tied between those two trees and tortured until he revealed the name of the young noble who hired him. The noble’s head now lay buried deep in the earth between those same trees.

  For this meeting, Trella had arranged for extra chairs to be carried in. Of course, Eskkar wanted Trella there. After nearly three years at his side helping to rule Akkad, everyone sought her advice and counsel. He’d once asked her if she wished to be a member of the Hawk Clan. She had, after all, struck a blow against Korthac.

  “A woman in the Hawk Clan?” She laughed, a happy sound that turned her into a young girl once again. “I’m flattered at the thought, but I think you should keep the Hawk Clan reserved for men.”

  A few moments later, Trella and Annok-sur joined the gathering. Trella’s friend and confidante also had an important role to play in any coming conflict. The fact that she was a woman and Bantor’s wife made no difference. At this table, everyone would speak as equals.

  Before she took her place, Annok-sur spoke to the guards and made sure the sentries remained far enough away so that they couldn’t overhear what would be said. Trella and Annok-sur sat on either side of Eskkar, facing the four men across the table.

  “Yesterday you men attended the meeting with the nobles,” Eskkar began without any preamble. “You heard their decision. Now it is time for us to talk about how the coming war will be fought. We need to decide what tactics we will use, how we will carry the war south, and what defenses Akkad will need. In the next few months, we’ll face many choices and make many decisions. The more we can plan for the future, the easier those decisions will be.”

  He looked at each of them in turn. Gatus, almost twice as old as the others, had fought Akkad’s battles all his life, and he knew more about training men than anyone. Bantor had served in Akkad’s guard most of his life, and he’d proven both his leadership and fighting skills in the battle with Korthac. Hathor, while new to Akkad, had fought for almost twenty years across the length and breadth of Egypt. Yavtar had traded and sailed the Tigris all his life, and joined the fight when the Akkadians overthrew Korthac and reclaimed their city.

  They had shared common dangers and fought together, in some cases side by side. All were Hawk Clan members, and each had sworn the oath to stand by his brothers. They all knew not only how to fight, but how to lead men in battle. Just as important, Eskkar valued their ideas, and knew that none of these four would hesitate to offer his honest opinion.

  “So tonight the seven of us,” Eskkar went on, “are going to start assembling an army for Akkad. And this army that we’re going to build will be like no other anyone has ever seen.”

  Yavtar’s eyes widened in surprise. “Why am I here? I know little about such things.”

  “Because, Yavtar,” Eskkar said, “this new army is going to need vast quantities of food and weapons. You know every bend on the Tigris and Euphrates for that matter, as well as every tributary and stream between them. And who better than a river trader to know how to supply fighting men? Just as important, you know how to build boats, and how to train men to sail them. And I’m going to want boats that can deliver men and supplies wherever there’s enough water to float a hull. So, the more you learn about how our new army is built, the better you’ll know how to supply it.”

  Yavtar furrowed his brow. “How many boats will you need? You’ll need crews to sail them, soldiers to protect them and their cargoes. All that will take months, perhaps years …” Yavtar’s voice trailed off as he saw the smile on Eskkar’ face.

  “Yes, and there’s much more, Yavtar. I also want boats that can carry large numbers of fighting men over long distances and at great speed. And I want other boats filled with men who fight on their own, to capture or destroy our enemy’s vessels. You’ll need to find and train men who know or can learn to fight from such a boat.”

  “And where will I find these men?”

  “I don’t know.” Eskkar couldn’t help laughing at the look on Yavtar’s face. “Remember when you and your boats carried forty of us from Bisitun to Akkad in little more than a day? We were in the city long before Korthac expected, because we raced down the river. That’s when I first realized that boats could be for more than just transporting a merchant’s goods.”

  He turned to Hathor. “We’re going to need cavalry, too, but I don’t just want men who can ride. I want men trained to fight from horseback, ride long distances on little food and water, and still strike a heavy blow at the end of the day. We’re going to need hundreds of horses, along with all the things a fighting mount needs to be effective. That means plenty of grain, sacks to carry it in, leather, ropes, cloth buckets, everything you can think of to support a horse and his rider on a long campaign. And weapons, of course. Small bows that can be shot from a galloping horse would be best, but also lances, long swords, as well as leather vests and helmets for protection.”

  The Egyptian’s eyes widened at the scope of the request.

  “Hathor, please speak your mind,” Trella said, her voice soft and gentle as always. “You bring knowledge of warfare from Egypt, and no doubt there is much we can learn from you.”

  “You’ll need a great many horsemen, Lady Trella, probably more than you can find.” Hathor looked at the others, but no one challenged his assertion. “The southern border is long, and distances between Akkad and the Sippar are almost as far. To project force over such a distance requires large numbers of horsemen. In Egypt we had many such horse fighters, all armed with sword and lance. But Eskkar has described the steppe warriors to me, and how they fight with bow and sword. If we can train and supply such horsemen, we would have an effective cavalry. That’s what the Egyptians called their horse soldiers.”

  “Then we will call them that as well,” Trella said. “But horses strong enough to carry a man and his weapons are in short supply, and Akkad has few men who can ride, let alone fire an arrow from the back of a moving horse.”

  Trella had learned much about the ways of the steppe warriors from Eskkar, including what weapons they used and how they fought.

  “I’ve been thinking about that,” Eskkar said. “The Ur Nammu have those skills, and we might ask them to help train our men. Perhaps they can gather horses for us as well. The horses will need training as much as the men. But a well-trained mount is worth at least two or three men on foot in a battle.”

  The Ur Nammu were the steppes clan who fought with Eskkar during the battle against the Alur Meriki, who had nearly wiped out the entire Ur Nammu clan. Eskkar had rescued the survivors, and they owed him a blood debt for that deed. Though few in number, they’d offered assistance to Akkad, mostly as a result of Trella’s generosity toward them during that conflict. For almost three years, she’d directed the city�
��s trade with them, and ensured that they received fair treatment in all dealings. Now that foresight might prove to be helpful in the coming days.

  “Even with whatever help you get from the Ur Nammu,” Gatus said, “you won’t have enough horses or trained riders. Besides, there are many battlegrounds in the hills or over rocky ground where horses are useless. We’ll still need plenty of men trained to fight on foot, probably armed with spears and swords. Only such forces can take a battle to the enemy, occupy his land, and hold it.”

  “Infantry,” Hathor said, offering another word from his native land. “In Egypt there were two kinds, heavy and light. The heavy infantry wore leather armor, and carried wicker shields and spears. The light infantry carried smaller shields and used hook swords.”

  “One line of spearmen won’t be enough,” Gatus said. “We’ll need ranks of such men, at least three or four deep. Enough to present a solid wall of spear points against an enemy.”

  “Even cavalry cannot attack ranks of spearmen head on,” Hathor agreed. “Not unless they greatly outnumber them. When spearmen are formed up in a solid line, they are vulnerable only from the flanks or rear.”

  “And how will we protect our own ranks of spearmen?” Eskkar had never faced such a line, and his instinct told him to attack such a formation from the rear.

  “Well, our bowmen could defend the flanks and rear.” Gatus rubbed his beard, as he usually did whenever he worked things out.

  “Bowmen are as difficult to recruit and train as horse fighters,” Eskkar said. “Our heavy bows require a strong man with powerful arms and keen eyes. And he must be tall enough to handle the weapon.”

  “We’ll have to recruit them based on their skills.” Hathor leaned forward on his bench, eager to impart his knowledge. “The tall ones with quick wits and sharp eyes become archers. The stronger, less mobile men become spearmen.”

  “If we can find them,” Gatus said. “It won’t be easy.”