by Sam Barone
“I’ll have one of the servants carry your models and sketches up to the workroom,” Trella said. “You can move them into here yourself.”
Ismenne nodded and started pulling thin strips of wood from the sack and spreading them out on the surface. For the last three months, she had prepared drawings of the major cities and villages whose shapes would soon be sketched, painted or modeled onto the table. The girl had attended every meeting where Annok-sur’s agents reported to Trella about the lands to the south. Ismenne also sat in on those meetings where soldiers, river men and travelers discussed distances and landmarks.
It had all started with Gatus. Trella had him march his fully armed and burdened men one hundred paces across the training ground several times, marking the area with pegs each time. When Trella decided she had the proper length, Gatus trimmed a long spear the exact length of five paces. When the measuring spear fitted within the hundred paces exactly twenty times, Trella had her basic unit of measurement. Another strip of wood one pace long was matched to the measuring spear.
Now that she had a standard length for a soldier’s pace, Trella provided that distance to her walkers and dispatched them to their destinations. Bags of pebbles would be used to measure the distances. After a hundred paces, a pebble would be shifted from the full sack to the empty one, a process that would be repeated as long as necessary.
Already Trella had calculated the distance between Akkad and the nearest villages, and her walkers had gone as far north as Bisitun. As soon as she trusted their skill, Trella sent the first one south, to measure the distance to Larsa, the nearest of the Sumerian cities. In the next few months, every distance in Sumeria would be paced on at least two separate occasions and the tally recorded in the soft clay shards used to keep records. Eventually the information reached Trella and Ismenne, who would then sketch the distances directly onto the table.
Gatus had provided more information in the last few months. He would march his men hard for five days, carrying extra provisions, and record how far they traveled each day, the pace naturally speeding up as the weight of supplies decreased. Now Trella had a figure for the average distance an army of spearmen could travel in any given day. It wouldn’t be perfect, of course. Differences in the landscape, whether hard earth, tall grass or soft sand would alter the calculation, as would the heat of the day, wind or rain, or even the scarcity of water. But at least they had a beginning, and soon Akkad’s leaders not only became more aware of the land around them, but knew the marching distance from one place to another.
Trella hadn’t stopped with Gatus. Hathor had put his horsemen through the same process. Now he knew how far his men could ride in a given day. Even Yavtar had contributed, matching the travel times for various ships and measuring the distance along the Tigris and the other main streams that flowed to the south on their way to the great sea.
All these numbers and measurements found their way into the Map Room, where Ismenne worked from dawn until dusk. She attended countless meetings with Trella’s walkers, as well as the city’s traders and merchants. To them, the girl seemed nothing more than a minor servant or a clerk, helping Trella record their information. But the girl listened to every report, every story about the landscape, the hills and valleys, what the walkers saw and felt, everything Trella could extract from their memories.
When they were gone, Ismenne would begin a new sketch, matching what she’d learned against her previous attempts. Slowly the long table underwent a change, turning into a map that illustrated every major feature of the countryside between Akkad and the cities of the south. Every bend in the river, every stream that fed into the Tigris, every hill and valley, took its place on the map. Eventually the table ceased to exist, giving birth to the map that would guide Eskkar and his senior men through the coming war.
By the end of the first year, the map stretched from Bisitun to the great sea beyond Sumer. But the work never ended. Trella continued to gather new information from her spies, and she relayed it to Ismenne. Traders, travelers, even explorers, Trella spoke with them all, gathering information as innocently as possible.
In that same year, Ismenne passed from child to woman, her body filling out. She stood a hand taller than Trella now, with hair as dark as her mistress. Strangers often assumed Ismenne to be Trella’s younger sister.
Fortunately, for Trella at least, Ismenne’s change into womanhood bonded her even closer to her queen. Ismenne felt no urge to marry, no awkward feelings toward the boys and young men around her, no rush to experience the pleasure of the gods. She understood the importance of her work, and was determined to see it to completion.
In their workroom, Trella faced Eskkar across the table. After being gone for almost forty days visiting the horse camps in the north, Eskkar had worked up quite an appetite, and he consumed almost all the sausage, cheese, and bread the servants carried up to their chamber. Trella ate her fill, too. Like most people in Akkad, she preferred to eat only twice each day, in the mid-morning and at the day’s end. At last Eskkar pushed his plate away and leaned back in his chair with a smile of satisfaction on his face.
“Are you ready to meet with your men?”
He nodded. “Yes, now I can face a long day of talking. I’m not sure why, but the food here at the house always tastes better than anywhere else.” He reached across the table and touched her hand. “Perhaps our lovemaking improves the flavor.”
She clasped his hand. He had practically dragged her into bed as soon as he arrived, pausing only long enough to wash up at the well. Before their passion subsided, the evening supper had come and gone, and they had dined on cold chicken and bread before he fell asleep.
“Your commanders should be arriving now.” She could already hear Gatus shouting about something or other in the courtyard below. He and the others had been summoned by Eskkar to discuss what progress they had made, and to hear about his inspection of the northern camps. “I have a surprise for all of you this morning. The Map Room is ready for use.”
Eskkar lifted his eyes to the door. When he had left for the north, two planks nailed across the entrance sealed the room shut. Now all traces of the planks had vanished, and the door stood ajar. “Let me see.” He started to rise.
“Let it be a surprise, Eskkar. None of your men have visited it either, so you might as well see it all together.”
Heavy steps sounded on the stairs. “Eskkar! We’re coming up!” Gatus had a powerful voice that penetrated throughout the house.
Trella stood by Eskkar’s side as Gatus pushed the door open and the commanders filed into the workroom. “Good morning,” she said, nodding in turn to Bantor, Hathor, Alexar, Mitrac, Klexor, Drakis, and Yavtar, who, like Eskkar, had returned yesterday from another voyage to the south. “Today you will have your first meeting in the Map Room. I think you will find it quite a surprise.”
“The gods know you’ve been building it long enough,” Gatus said, but he softened his voice as he always did when speaking to Trella. “I hope it’s worth the wait.”
“Follow me, then.” She led the way, pushing the door open.
One by one, they stepped across the threshold, and every one sounded a gasp or uttered words of astonishment. Eskkar, the last to enter, found his men gathering about a long table that stretched nearly the length of the room.
Trella had moved to the far end. Standing beside her was another woman. “This is Corio’s daughter, Ismenne. She has done most of the work on the map, and is the best person to answer your questions.”
Trella could have explained it just as well, but wanted the soldiers to know how she felt about Ismenne. Trella wanted Ismenne to have their trust, and that would be best accomplished by keeping her not only in the room, but privy to all the questions and information the commanders possessed.
“You’ve grown into a woman, Ismenne,” Eskkar said as he approached the head of the table. He, too, gazed down at the map in wonderment. “And this is all your work …”
“Yes
, Lord Eskkar.”
Now every man in the room stared at the map. They could see the miniature city of Akkad marked out by the curve in the river. The village of Bisitun, the gold camp at Nuzi, the horse and training camps to the north. Eskkar moved down the table, his fingers trailing along the edge of the table, following the river, until he stood beside the city of Larsa, the first of the Sumerian cities. The city’s outline looked different from what he remembered from years ago. He extended his finger to touch the map, then hesitated, and glanced at Trella. Eskkar knew a map sketched on papyrus required a pointing stick, to avoid damaging the material or smudging the image.
Ismenne understood the unasked question. “You may touch the map, Lord Eskkar. These colors will not smear unless you rub them too hard, and any marks can be easily removed or repaired.”
“She has painted and repainted every spot on the map dozens of times,” Trella added.
“What are these lines?” Hathor had leaned over the table and pointed at the model of Akkad. A series of short strokes radiated out from the city in several directions.
“The black lines show how many days’ march any place on the map is from Akkad. The red lines,” Trella extended her slim arm and pointed to another group of lines, “indicate a day’s ride for a company of horsemen. As you can see, there are five black lines leading from Akkad to Bisitun, but only three red lines. Now you can understand why I have had so many questions about men and horses for Gatus and Hathor. And Yavtar, too, for traveling times up and down the rivers. Those are the white lines marking the downstream water routes, and the blue lines upstream.”
“So it’s three days march to the gold mine at Nuzi,” Eskkar said, letting his own fingers step over the lines as he counted.
“As Gatus explained to me,” Trella said, “that assumes the men are carrying their shields, spears, swords, some food and their water skins. And assuming there is one pack horse for every forty men. If the soldiers have to carry more, then each day’s journey will take longer.”
The pack horse carried the men’s cooking pots, a shovel, and other odds and ends needed by the men. Hathor and Eskkar had argued over the cavalry’s number of pack animals, before finally settling on one pack animal for every thirty men. A large train of animals would slow a fast-moving force. Both men had agreed that the cavalry should move at least three times faster than a company of men on foot.
“So it is five days’ march to Kanesh,” Gatus said, his eyes blinking as he strained to see the markings. “And from there, another … four days’ march to Larsa.”
Gatus, Trella knew, could see things at a distance without difficulty, but lately had trouble seeing things close up. Another problem of those who lived to old age.
“Yes. Our walkers have estimated these distances, and made adjustments for the terrain. So if the land is hilly or ground soft, it will take longer to cover the same distance.”
“I can see where we’ll need Yavtar’s boats to bring supplies,” Eskkar said, his finger brushing several places on the map. “And other sites where we should store food and weapons. Supplies, too, should be prepared in advance, perhaps hidden, or buried in the earth. Your boats are going to make the difference in the coming war, Yavtar.”
Trella nodded. Her husband never failed to impress her by his knowledge of such things. As Gatus had once told her, Eskkar could take in a battleground at a glance and come up with the best plan of action. He did it without thinking, the natural skill of a man who had fought many engagements.
“I’m building three kinds of boats, Lady Trella,” Yavtar said, lifting his eyes from the map for the first time. “You might want to add more lines for the different types of vessels.”
“Yes, that’s a good idea.” Trella turned to Ismenne. “We’ll work with Yavtar tomorrow, to get estimates of his fighting ships as well as his messenger craft.”
The war vessels that Yavtar had designed, with their larger crews, could move faster than a heavily laden boat carrying cargo. The smaller, speedier craft would be mainly used to carry news and reports. For these, a crew of eight to twelve rowers would speed the craft up or down the river.
Eskkar stepped down to the other end of the table, to where Trella stood, before the great sea. The model of the city of Sumer was as large as the one of Akkad. “And this is what the city looks like now?”
“As best we can know. One of Corio’s sons visited the city a few months ago and memorized the layout. But there is much building of walls going on, and it may have already changed. As we get new reports, Ismenne will adjust the model.”
Eskkar lifted his eyes to the girl. A great deal of responsibility rested on her shoulders. If her drawings were wrong, if the information she provided incorrect, the results could be serious, even deadly.
Trella saw the look and understood Eskkar’s thoughts. “Now that you have all seen the map, you can understand how useful it may be. Ismenne and I will be examining and testing each line on the map. And all of you will help provide any new information or corrections that need to be made. If we keep the map current and accurate, it should help you plan the war.”
“It will, indeed, Lady Trella. Even in the land of Egypt, where many models of cities were built, I’ve never seen such a thing.”
“Then I think, Hathor, that you and everyone here will agree that this room and its contents must remain a secret. The fewer who know of its existence, the better. Ismenne and I would ask that you tell no one of this, not your wives or lovers or even your subcommanders. If Sumer learns of this, and build their own Map Room, much of our advantage will disappear. All our lives may depend on keeping this secret.”
“Who else knows of this?”
Eskkar’s voice held that grim tone that told Trella – told everyone in the chamber – that he had made up his mind.
“Corio and Ismenne, of course,” Trella said, “as well as Annok-sur and Grond. Others may know that this room will be used for planning, but no one else has seen inside. Aside from you leaders, no one else knows how much effort and detail went into building this. Even the servants have been forbidden to enter, or even to discuss its existence.”
Since the chamber could be entered only from Eskkar and Trella’s private quarters, the Map Room door would be seen by very few, which should help hold its secrets.
“Then I suggest that we all heed Trella’s words,” Eskkar said, the hard edge still in his words. “This place should not be mentioned to anyone else.”
Everyone nodded. They were all Hawk Clan. She knew they would heed his words.
“Then we can start our planning,” she said. “Who wishes to begin?”
30
Three months later, Eskkar and Trella rode into the mining village of Nuzi just after midday. Trella had never visited the place before, but Eskkar had stopped by twice since the digging began, both times when he traveled north to visit the horse camps. His descriptions of those brief stopovers hadn’t satisfied her curiosity, and while Orodes’s reports of steady progress had proved satisfactory, Trella decided she wanted to see Nuzi for herself.
Orodes had started sending gold back to Trella almost from the start. Within ten days of his return to the mine, the first sacks of gold dust had reached Akkad. Nuggets, sifted out of the stream or dug from the hills and borders of the flowing water, soon followed. Since those first deliveries, a heavily guarded boat arrived every five days, bringing gold and silver to Trella’s coffers.
To safeguard the precious metals, Trella ordered a small house with thick walls and a solid-beamed roof built within the Compound. The new chamber also provided a place for the two goldsmiths to work. Under close supervision, they hammered and worked the gold, silver and copper extracted from the mine into coins. At Orodes’s recommendation, each coin was carefully trimmed and worked into a round shape that carried the mark of Akkad on one side, and the Hawk emblem on the other.
Almost as soon as the coins appeared in the marketplace, they set the standard for quality that ot
her merchants and traders were forced to match. “Good as Eskkar’s gold” became the new criterion for value throughout Akkad and the countryside.
Despite Trella’s best efforts to keep Nuzi a secret, word of the king’s gold mine quickly spread. Gold seemed to loosen the tongue of everyone who came into contact with it. Every laborer, soldier and miner working at the site whispered news of the gold and silver deposits. Within months the hills and valleys surrounding the village held dozens of groups of ore hunters, all searching for another cache of gold. But Orodes had spoken the truth about the find. Whatever precious metals existed nearby remained locked deep within the earth, inaccessible to even the most determined seeker.
Tooraj, with the help of a handful of Hawk Clan soldiers, established a tight ring of security around the mine and surrounding valley. Gangs of laborers dug away at the hills, shearing them into vertical cliffs that only a mountain goat could have scaled. Soldiers guarded the single entrance to Nuzi day and night, and every person leaving the site – man, woman, or child – was stripped naked and searched. Some desperate laborers swallowed nuggets to conceal them, but that trick carried its own risks. In the first month, two men died clutching their bellies within days of leaving Nuzi.
Orodes issued a decree that anyone caught attempting to smuggle any precious metal out of the site would labor alongside the slaves for six months. Since a good number of the slaves and thieves forced to work at the mine died within that length of time, not many were willing to risk their lives for the handful of gold they might purloin. Nevertheless, Trella felt certain that small quantities of gold and silver still found their way out of the valley. But as long as Orodes kept such pilfering small and inconsequential, Trella didn’t concern herself about the loss.
