by Sam Barone
The only other way into the chamber was the ladder to the roof. But that had been sealed, too, with knotted ropes and cross branches bound together. Anyone trying to enter that way would make plenty of noise.
Sitting up, he stared at the ceiling. The ropes had been cut, though the slender branches remained. A small man, Steratakis decided, one who could move like a cat and make just as little noise. This Tarrata must have cut through the ropes, then dropped through the beams, all without making a sound loud enough to awaken anyone.
Steratakis shuddered. Never had he imaged that he would be contacted this way, in the dead of night by brute force and at the point of a blade. He’d expected someone to come up to him in the market, perhaps buy a sweet cake or two, deliver the message, and be off.
He shivered. Suddenly he realized that if he had forgotten the name Steratakis, the knife would have cut his throat and he’d be dead. He’d come that close. Yes, time to return to Akkad. He didn’t think he could survive the delivery of a second message.
Chapter 7
Eskkar stared across the table at Trella and Annok-sur, as they delivered the grim tidings. For a moment anger showed on his face. Until now, despite all their preparations for the Elamite invasion, there had always remained a glimmer of hope that it might not happen. After all, any unforeseen event could change Elam’s plans. King Shirudukh might have died, disease or plague might have broken out among his soldiers or cities, or even a crop failure might have upset the Elamite schedule. But the news could not be denied. The enemy was coming.
“You’re sure of the information?” Eskkar kept his voice calm. “And the numbers?”
“Yes, it came from Bracca himself,” Annok-sur said. “Five nights ago, Bracca – he gave the name Tarrata to Steratakis – woke him in the middle of the night. Steratakis was ordered not to leave Sumer before the third day, which is why he just arrived this morning. Likely Bracca wanted to get out of Sumer before anyone noticed a merchant suddenly shutting down his stall and rushing back to Akkad.”
The numbers confirmed Bracca’s first estimate, as well as the routes into the Land Between the Rivers.
“At least we now know who will lead each army,” Eskkar said. “I would have thought that General Jedidia would lead the force to Sumer or Akkad. Everything we’ve learned from Sabatu and the others claimed he was Shirudukh’s ablest general.”
In the last year, Annok-sur had paid deserters from Elam’s armies for information about their leaders, but none had provided as much intelligence as Sabatu.
“Perhaps that is the very reason he was given the fewest soldiers,” Trella said. “King Shirudukh likely does not want his strongest general commanding such a large force, especially one so far from home. With that many soldiers, Jedidia might decide to rule Akkad in his own name, or even return to Elam at the head of an invading army of his own. Better to keep him down, dependent on Shirudukh’s decisions.”
“It seems there are plots everywhere,” Eskkar said. “Still this may help us. Sabatu says that Modran is stubborn and proud. He may not believe that we would dare to challenge him, or that he can be stopped.”
“We have less than three months,” Trella said. “Now we must set all our plans into motion.”
“Yes. I’ll summon all the commanders.” Eskkar leaned back in his chair. The days of indecision and doubt had passed. Knowing the worst always calmed him down. “It’s time to tell them what they’ll be up against.”
“I’ll send word to Sargon,” Trella said. “He should be here as well. Draelin is available, if you approve.” Trella paused for a moment, no doubt thinking of the dangers her son would soon face.
“Yes, but Draelin must return as soon as possible. He will be needed here to help Alcinor.” He sighed. “Sumer and Isin must also be told,” Eskkar said.
“I will have messengers on their way tomorrow at first light,” Trella said. “We promised to tell them the moment we learned something new.”
“What shall I do with Steratakis? There won’t be any more messages, and he knows too much.” Annok-sur’s question caught Eskkar by surprise. He had already forgotten the messenger.
“Send him to Nuzi,” Trella said. “Tooraj can keep him under guard for the next few months. After that, it won’t matter. But warn Steratakis to keep silent. Not a word of this must get out yet, or there will be panic in the City. I don’t even want the name Tarrata mentioned.”
Tooraj commanded all the troops guarding the mine and its surroundings. His soldiers protected each shipment of gold and silver that flowed downstream to Akkad.
“And I must tell Sabatu that Chaiyanar will be coming to Sumer,” Eskkar said. “I promised him that I would give him the chance to fight against his torturer.”
“Orodes must also be told,” Trella said. “He must have time to prepare what he needs.”
Orodes, for managing the mine at Nuzi, received one part out of every hundred that the mine produced. With that tiny fraction, he had become the richest man in Akkad.
“Are you sure he will do as you ask?” Eskkar knew Orodes had grown used to a life of ease.
“Yes, I’m sure Annok-sur and I can convince him,” Trella said. “He does owe us a great deal.”
Eskkar nodded. With Annok-sur present, Orodes would understand the message. “Trella, will you be able to obtain everything that my soldiers will need?”
In many ways, Trella had the most difficult assignment of all. It would fall to her and her clerks to obtain and distribute the vast mountains of supplies and weapons Eskkar required. Food, water, swords, arrows, bows, spears, all those were obvious enough. But she also needed to ensure that the soldiers received clothing, sandals, helmets, leather armor, slings, and bronze bullets for them. In short, all the little things that, lacking, could halt an army or bring it to ruin.
“Yes, my clerks are ready,” Trella said. “When the time is right, I will call on the all the nobles and traders throughout the land for their assistance. They will deliver what we need.”
Eskkar grunted. Yes, they would deliver whatever she asked of them, or they would find themselves waiting for that drop of poison in their cup, or a knife between their ribs. Nor would any dare to risk doing less than his utmost. If Akkad survived, Trella would remember who had not made every effort to support the war.
“Then I will leave Akkad in your hands.” Eskkar felt grateful that at least the long period of inaction had ended. “I will begin my inspection of the training camps tomorrow, to ensure that they are ready.”
“Take care, Husband. Your soldiers will need you more than ever before.”
He nodded. It was still not too late for Elam to try and strike him down. “I’ll be careful, Trella. But from now on, you should not leave the Compound for any reason. We’re all going to need your help if this plan is to succeed.”
Chapter 8
Orodes stepped off the boat and onto Akkad’s dock just as the setting sun touched the horizon. The boat had departed late from Nuzi, and a slow passage down the Tigris had not made up any time, despite Orodes’s frequent suggestions to the ship master. At least the boring journey had ended.
Now he looked forward to a fine meal prepared by his incomparable cook, along with some exceptional wine brought all the way from Sumer, offered by his two wives and three slave girls. Afterwards, he would relax in his garden, sip some wine, and let his women take care of his more personal needs.
Tall and lean, Orodes lacked a year before he reached his thirtieth season. Nevertheless, his hair had thinned, and his temples were tinged with gray. Orodes’s plain face bore the scars of countless encounters with splinters of rock hacked and chipped from the hard earth. Thanks to the gods, he still had both eyes. Plenty of miners his age had lost an eye or damaged their vision from flying grit and rock fragments.
Slinging his leather pouch over his shoulder, Orodes started down the wharf. His servant, burdened by the weight of his master’s tools, struggled to keep pace. Orodes rarely used the ham
mers and chisels these days, but the richest man in Akkad had grown accustomed to satisfying all his desires, no matter how large or small. Orodes preferred his own tools, and if that meant a servant had to strain his back lugging everything his master might want to Nuzi and back, so be it.
Before Orodes reached the end of the wharf, he found his way blocked by one of the Hawk Clan guards. The soldier motioned him aside, halted the servant with a single glance, then lowered his voice as he delivered the message.
“I have a request from Lady Trella for you, Master Orodes. She would very much like to see you at midmorning tomorrow.” The soldier smiled as he delivered the last part of the message. “If it is convenient.”
Orodes recovered from his surprise. “Yes, of course.” What else could he say? Convenient or not, no one refused an invitation from the Queen of Akkad. “Tell Lady Trella that I will attend her at that time.”
The soldier hadn’t bothered to say where. The Queen seldom left the Compound, and she conducted her private business in Eskkar’s Workroom.
The Hawk Clan soldier spun on his heel and strode off, leaving Orodes standing there, open mouthed. Already the brief message had ruined Orodes’s satisfaction at returning home. By the time he reached his large house and passed inside, his mood had turned foul. He snapped at his wives during dinner, and drank too much wine.
While he picked at his food, Orodes wondered why Trella wished to see him. It couldn’t be anything to do with Nuzi. He had just come from there, and everything seemed under control. Once again, he thanked the gods for his foresight. By inspecting the mine once a month, Orodes ensured that the operation ran exactly as he ordered. Besides, Orodes reported the numbers from the mine every ten days, not to Trella herself but to one of her senior clerks.
Whatever Trella wanted, it must be important. Members of the Hawk Clan did not carry trivial messages. The soldier could have waited until Orodes arrived home. Meeting him at the dock meant something serious, and something Trella did not want mentioned even in front of Orodes’s wives or servants.
Trying to guess what Trella wanted also spoiled his after-dinner recreation with his women. Their efforts produced little gratification, and as soon as Orodes spent his seed into the young and recently acquired pleasure girl, he ordered all of them out of his bed chamber. It took another full cup of wine before he slipped into an uneasy and restless sleep.
Now midmorning had arrived, and Orodes eased himself into the comfortable chair that faced Trella across the table. The Queen wore no jewelry, only the same silver fillet to hold back her hair that Eskkar had given her years ago. She sat with her back to the wall, in the place her husband usually occupied. That told Orodes that the King would not be present.
Two other people also had seats at the table. Wakannh, the Captain of Akkad’s Guard, and Annok-sur. As always, her presence lent a grim air to any meeting. People had a habit of disappearing or turning up dead after meeting with Akkad’s chief spy. The others’ presence confirmed Orodes’s conclusion – something important would be discussed.
“Good morning, Orodes,” Trella began, her voice as pleasant as always. “I hope you had a successful journey to Nuzi.”
Neither Wakannh nor Annok-sur bothered with more than a simple incline of the head, though they kept their eyes fastened on Orodes.
“Yes, Lady Trella. Everything at the mine is running smoothly.” He resisted the urge to make his words a question.
“Indeed it is, and as always, our thanks for your skillful oversight. But today we must speak about another subject, one even more important than the mine. Akkad needs your services again, Orodes, as we did once before. Eskkar and I hope that you will be able to help us.”
Orodes let himself relax just the tiniest amount. He smiled at the subtle reminder. “I am always ready to help Akkad in any way I can.”
Ten years ago, Trella had plucked a drunken young man from the mud of Akkad’s lanes. As the youngest son of a family of miners, Orodes had rebelled against his father’s old fashioned ways and his older brothers’ rigid authority. Despite Orodes’s keen wits and mastery of the craft of mining, his kin had expelled him, their youngest and most quarrelsome son, from the family business.
Orodes had fallen into despair and disrepute until rescued by Lady Trella. She’d done so not because of any sympathy for a drunken young sot, but because she needed the best miner in Akkad. And one desperate enough to undertake a dangerous dig deep into the earth.
She had placed him in charge of a newly discovered and very secret gold mine at Nuzi. The moment Orodes reached the site and saw its potential, he abandoned his dissolute ways forever. The challenge to extract the vast amounts of gold and silver crucial for Akkad’s war with Sumer had provided all the incentive Orodes needed to regain his self-respect.
In Trella’s service, Orodes had accomplished what no other miner could have done. He’d developed new techniques to unearth and separate the various ores from deep within the ground. For his services, Lady Trella allowed him to keep one part by weight of every hundred extracted. Within five years, he’d become the richest men in Akkad.
Trella came right to the point. “You’ve probably heard rumors of a coming war. I can tell you, in private, that those stories are true. The Elamites intend to invade our lands and capture our cities. We need your help to defeat them.”
Orodes leaned back in surprise. Like most others in Akkad, he’d heard hundreds of rumors in the last few months, and discounted most of them. After all, only a fool would contend against King Eskkar and his well-trained army. But an invasion from the east, that changed everything. Such a war would threaten him personally. If Akkad lost, wealthy people like Orodes would be squeezed to death by the victors, eager to seize as much wealth as they could.
She waited a few moments until he had time to comprehend the situation. “Naturally we require as much gold as we can raise to help defeat these invaders. A contribution from you will help us buy what we need to fight.”
He sagged back in the chair. Orodes realized he was going to lose his fortune, or most of it. Half his wealth? Three quarters? Perhaps all of it. He glanced at Wakannh. A single word from Trella, and Orodes would be lying dead on the floor. It had happened in this very room before. Wakannh’s soldiers could already be at Orodes’s house, searching for his secret hiding places.
“How much am I expected to contribute?”
Trella smiled again. “A gift of five hundred gold pieces would be most helpful.”
Less than fifteen percent of his wealth. Orodes met her gaze. Something was wrong. Trella likely knew exactly how much gold he possessed. For that small a sum, Trella could have sent one of her clerks, and Orodes would have paid it without a second thought.
“Is there anything else I can do, Lady Trella?”
“Since such a contribution to help save Akkad is so small, we have another request to make. There is a very special task that only you are qualified to perform. We need a Master Miner who knows how to dig in the earth, and clear away obstacles.”
Her request surprised him. He straightened up in his chair. Had another mine been discovered?
“Eskkar’s cavalry needs a secret route through the southern mountains to the Great Sea.” She unrolled a map and spread it on the table. “We’ve charted a path through the mountains. We’ll need a trail wide enough for two horses to ride side by side. You’re the only man in Akkad bold enough and skilled enough who can carve a pathway through the foothills in the time we have. Of course I’ll make sure you have everything necessary, skilled laborers, soldiers, tools, supplies, food and water. Whatever you need, as much as you require, you have only to ask.”
Orodes stared at the map. The route marked by Trella’s finger extended through the last third of the mountains. Many miners had explored the area, but never found a trace of anything valuable. Every one of them, however, attested to the rough terrain. As far as he knew, no one had ever reached the Great Sea.
He lifted his eyes.
“If I agree to do this, how much time do I have?”
“Three months, no longer,” Trella answered.
“It can’t be done. Not in that short a time. Such an effort would take at least six months, possibly more.”
“For anyone else, I would agree. But you are the Master Miner of Akkad. If anyone knows how to cut through a mountain, it is Orodes. Besides, three months is all the time we have.”
Orodes opened his mouth, then closed it. He’d been about to ask what would happen if he refused. Only a simpleton would ask that question, and Orodes was no halfwit. A single glance at Annok-sur provided all the answer Orodes needed.
Most of the fools in Akkad feared King Eskkar’s temper. Those closer to the truth worried about Trella, who had probably sent more men to their deaths than her bloodthirsty husband. The presence of Annok-sur, who still hadn’t said anything, reinforced the unmentioned threat.
A night swim in the Tigris, Akkadians called it. The innocent saying meant that a dead body might be tossed into the river and carried downstream seven or eight miles before the waters slowed enough to drift a corpse to the shore.
Not that he thought Lady Trella would do such a thing to him. First they would confiscate his fortune. Then it might be just as easy to have a pinch of poison dropped into his stew. Bad food still killed plenty of people every year, and not even the healers could always tell the difference between poison or fouled meat. Especially if the healers happened to be in Trella’s service. Orodes shook the gloomy thought from his mind.
“If you do this, Orodes, we will be in your debt,” Trella said. “I can promise you that no more of your wealth will be needed. And your effort may help win the war. Besides, we need someone we can trust, someone who can keep his mouth closed, someone with your special skills of mining and digging, and someone who can’t be bribed.”
