Conflict of Empires es-3

by Sam Barone

  “No beggars allowed in Sumer,” he said, glancing at Tammuz’s crooked left arm. A cripple could do no real work.

  “We’re not beggars,” Tammuz said. “My wife and I are farmers from Ubaid.”

  The two of them had spent ten days living in the village of Ubaid, learning to speak like any of the Ubaid villagers, lest their speech give them away as coming from Akkad. When they departed, they knew everyone and everything about the Sumerian village, and could answer any question as if they had lived there all their lives.

  The guard’s voice implied that he had heard that claim before. “One copper coin each to enter the city, then.”

  “I see others entering without paying,” Tammuz argued, pointing with his good arm at a few people walking by.

  “They live here. They have a right to come and go.”

  “How do you know they live here?”

  “Do you see them loaded down with all their possessions? Now get away from the gate.”

  “We plan to live here as well,” Tammuz said.

  “Not unless you pay,” the guard insisted.

  Another soldier sauntered over. “Any problem with these two?”

  “They don’t want to pay,” the first guard said, “or they can’t.”

  “Get rid of them.”

  “Wait, we can pay,” Tammuz said. He turned to En-hedu. “Give them the coppers.”

  En-hedu deposited her sack on the ground between her feet, reached inside her dress, and withdrew a battered leather pouch that remained fastened by a thick loop around her neck. Taking her time, she undid the knot, reached in, and removed two coins that she passed to Tammuz, who handed them to the guard.

  The second guard’s eyes followed En-hedu’s every move as she withdrew the coins from the pouch. If these fresh-off-the-farm country bumpkins possessed two coppers, why not three? “And one more for King Eridu’s guards.”

  With the speed of a striking snake, En-hedu snatched the coins back from the first guard’s still open palm. “No! My uncle warned us that you would demand more. If there was any trouble, he said we should ask to see your commander and give the payment to him.”

  The guard frowned. A small group had gathered to watch the newcomers pay their entry fee. Hearing the commotion, they edged closer, as eager to see either the guards humiliated or the newcomers driven away. He glanced around, his hand on the hilt of his sword. “All right, damn you both, two coins to enter. Either pay or get away from the gate.”

  “Two coppers. No more.” En-hedu extended her hand, and once again the coins dropped into the first soldier’s palm. A few of the gawkers laughed at the guards’ discomfort.

  Tammuz grabbed En-hedu, jerking her to his side. “Be silent, woman. Remember your place.” He bowed to the guards. “I thank you for your help.”

  Slinging his sack over his shoulder, Tammuz pushed his way through the gate, En-hedu following a step behind.

  “Give her a good beating tonight,” a woman called out.

  “If you’re strong enough,” another voice shouted. A laugh went up, and this time the guards joined in.

  “He already did,” the first guard added in a loud voice. “Look at her nose.”

  En-hedu’s first master had broken her nose in a drunken rage, and it had never healed properly.

  More laughter greeted the jest, but by that time, Tammuz and Enhedu had stepped through the gate. The guard’s words meant nothing; they had heard it all before.

  As soon as they were well inside the city, Tammuz grinned at her. “That went well. I was expecting them to ask us our business or look inside the sacks.”

  “All they care about is taking bribes from ignorant farmers.” En-hedu turned her thoughts to the present. “Now we have to find a place to stay the night.”

  Walking through the crowded lanes, they attracted little attention, just two more wide-eyed farmers moving into the city and carrying their handful of possessions. It didn’t take them long to reach the poorer section of Sumer. Yavtar had described the city in detail to both of them, and they not only knew where to go, but already had some idea of what they would find.

  They stopped at one of the taverns which also functioned as an inn, a humble enough place suggested by Yavtar. An older woman with long gray hair straggling down her back blocked the doorway, her hands on her wide hips. She appraised them from head to toe and appeared to find little opportunity for profit.

  “What do you want?”

  “A safe place to stay for a few nights,” En-hedu answered, “and perhaps some food.”

  “Only if you can pay. Too many people without any coins in Sumer these days.”

  “We can pay something,” En-hedu said, “and we can work until we’re settled.”

  “There’s no work here, but one copper coin, and you can spend the night. In advance. Supper only, one cup of ale.” The woman’s firm voice showed there would be no haggling.

  En-hedu glanced at Tammuz, who shrugged. One place was as good as another.

  She paid the woman, who stepped aside and let them enter. This early in the day, the tavern stood empty, except for an old man leaning back against the wall, dozing with his mouth open. Only a few flies buzzed about. To En-hedu’s surprise, the place appeared to have been swept clean. By tonight, she knew the usual debris from the customers would litter the dirt floor.

  “Since you’re here early, you can pick whatever place you like to sleep,” the woman said. “My husband will return before sundown. No ale or wine before then. If you want water, there’s a well down the lane.”

  “Thank you, mistress.”

  They had already stopped and drunk their fill. En-hedu picked her way to a spot on the opposite wall from where they entered. It was far enough away from the table where the owner would dispense the wine and ale, and almost as distant from the door to discourage any would-be robber. Thieves sometimes kicked open the door in the middle of the night, grabbed whatever they could, and fled before the sleeping customers knew they were being robbed. It had happened before, in Tammuz’s own tavern in Akkad.

  They sat down, backs against the wall, grateful to be off their feet. As always, En-hedu sat at Tammuz’s left. His left arm, crooked and wasted, lacked any strength, and he could use it for small tasks only with some difficulty. His right hand and arm, however, rippled with thick muscle that bespoke long sessions each day to increase its strength. The sharp knife he wore on his belt was a gift from Lady Trella. While it appeared to be an old and well-worn weapon, it had been forged from the finest bronze by Akkad’s master swordmaker, then deliberately aged and nicked. A thief might give it a glance, but none would consider it worth stealing.

  En-hedu carried her own knife, smaller but just as sharp, inside her dress. The baggy garment concealed both the weapon and her well-endowed bosom. In spite of her sturdy frame, as tall as her husband, both she and Tammuz could move like cats, quick and light on their feet.

  “Rest, husband. I’ll keep watch.” She touched his leg, a little gesture of affection.

  He smiled at her, then slumped down a little more. She watched him drift off to sleep. They would have to take turns staying awake during the night, lest some thief try to rob them. That was a risk they couldn’t take. The sacks they carried contained five gold coins, ten silver ones, and twenty coppers, all carrying marks from Sumer’s merchants.

  Those coins, however, would enable them to establish a tavern of their own, much like the ones they had owned first in Akkad and then in Bisitun. En-hedu remembered the days not long ago when she would have stood in the doorway, making sure customers could pay or trade before they entered.

  King Eskkar and Lady Trella had asked Tammuz and En-hedu to become their spies in Sumer. The couple had played a similar role once before, in Akkad. Nearly three years ago, Trella had rescued En-hedu from her brutal husband, who had beaten her so often that she begged for death. His last pummeling had broken her nose. After a few months to recover her health and spirit, Trella gave En-h
edu as a slave to Tammuz, to help him run his little tavern.

  He had just entered his fifteenth season, about the same age as Enhedu. Tammuz had treated his new possession with gentleness, and when the last of En-hedu’s emotional wounds finally healed, she found herself in love with her new master. His tender feeling for her gave En-hedu the first happiness she could remember.

  Tammuz, already operating as a spy for Trella, kept watch on the worst of the beggars and thieves in Akkad, those desperate enough to kill anyone for a few coins. To fit in with his less reputable customers, Tammuz bought and sold stolen goods, and protected the petty criminals from the city’s guard as best he could. As a result, he gained his patrons’ trust, and he saw and heard much of what went on among Akkad’s dregs.

  Trella neither wanted to know nor cared about the petty thievery that happened every day in Akkad, and every other village for that matter. What she sought was knowledge about anything serious, any whisper or hint of a planned deed that might threaten her husband and his rule.

  By then few knew or remembered that Tammuz had ridden as a horse boy with Eskkar on his first skirmish. Disobeying orders, Tammuz joined in the fighting and killed an Alur Meriki warrior with an arrow. Then a horse and rider knocked him aside, shattering his arm in several places. Injured on the war trail and forced to ride while the fever raged in his body, Tammuz nearly died. Most leaders would have abandoned the friendless boy, but Eskkar did his best to keep Tammuz alive. A few nights later, when Eskkar and the other handful of survivors established the Hawk Clan, Tammuz, still racked with fever, had managed to swear the same oath that bound all of the surviving fighters together. At least that’s what the others told him, though Tammuz had little recollection of the ritual.

  Because of his crippled arm, Tammuz could no longer fight, and most of the Hawk Clan members soon forgot about the crippled boy. But Trella, struggling to deal with the corrupt and devious nobles, had found a use for him, setting Tammuz up in the alehouse to keep an eye on those most willing to do violence.

  When Korthac seized Akkad, Tammuz and En-hedu felt as helpless as anyone. But within a few days, Eskkar returned from the north and, in the middle of the night, broke into the city. Fighting had raged everywhere, and Tammuz had rushed to join in. By then he’d grown proficient with a knife, and several of Korthac’s Egyptian fighters died under his blade during the battle. En-hedu had killed one man herself, to save her master’s life.

  Nevertheless, the fighting and its aftermath revealed Tammuz’s role as one of Eskkar’s loyal followers. They could no longer pretend to be dealers in stolen goods or even plain innkeepers. Twenty days after Korthac died under torture, Lady Trella sent Tammuz and En-hedu north for their own protection, to the village of Bisitun.

  That had worked for a few months, but too many soldiers moving back and forth between Akkad and Bisitun knew of Tammuz’s role, and soon word spread that he was one of Eskkar’s followers. After that, they settled into a dreary existence as simple tavern owners, conspicuously avoided by any of the local thieves or anyone trying to escape official notice. Trella had advised them to be patient, that something important would be found for them.

  Then one day Annok-sur had arrived, accompanied by Hathor, to meet them. Annok-sur offered Tammuz and En-hedu another, more dangerous chance to spy for Akkad. They would have to move to Sumer, become two of its inhabitants, and stay for at least two or three years. There would be great danger. If they were discovered, death by torture would be their fate. However, if they remained hidden and provided useful information, they could return to Akkad in due time and step out into the open as respected members of Eskkar’s inner council.

  One look at Tammuz’s face and En-hedu knew he wanted to accept. Since his arm prevented him from joining Eskkar’s soldiers, he would take on any role that Eskkar and Trella suggested that gave him a chance to fight. To Tammuz’s credit, he had turned to En-hedu to see what she thought. Whatever reservations En-hedu had had vanished.

  In truth, she was as wearied of their life in Bisitun as her husband. So they agreed to go to Sumer. But it turned out there was much more that Annok-sur wanted. She and Trella sought information from the leading citizens of Sumer, not just the poor and destitute. And Lady Trella had figured out a possible way for En-hedu to gain entry to the wealthier merchants and traders.

  Nor was Tammuz ignored. Hathor explained what Eskkar wanted. More training would be required for the both of them, so that they could not only defend themselves, but eliminate potential threats to their mission. That training had lasted more than a month before Annok-sur and Hathor considered them as well prepared as possible.

  Then they traveled south, until they reached the village of Ubaid, in Sumer’s northern lands. One of Yavtar’s boat captains had come from the obscure village, and he escorted Tammuz and En-hedu there.

  All that preparation had ended at last. They journeyed south, passing through several small villages before reaching Sumer. Now that they had arrived, they could at last begin their mission.

  En-hedu settled herself against the wall, though she never relaxed enough so that she couldn’t get to her feet in a moment. As the sun began its descent, customers by ones and twos arrived. The poorest carried something to barter for ale — a chicken, a few eggs, fruit, bread, cheese, or even firewood. En-hedu watched one man exchange a knife for supper and the promise of plenty of ale. Since he carried another knife on his belt, he’d probably stolen the first one. She guessed he would drink his ale quickly and depart, just in case the real owner of the weapon arrived.

  Loud voices, laughter, and the occasional oath soon filled the inn. The sounds were so familiar to Tammuz that he didn’t even wake up until Enhedu nudged his arm.

  “Time to eat,” she said.

  Tammuz remained at their space, while En-hedu fetched two greasy bowls only half full of stew, each with a hunk of bread protruding over the top. She made a second trip to bring the ale, watered down to be little stronger than what came out of the well down the lane. The food took the edge off their hunger, but did little else.

  The rest of the night went as would be expected in such a place. Men came and went, women arrived to sell themselves, a few lucky men drank enough to get drunk. Two fights started. As the darkness deepened outside, the customers’ voices rose, and soon everyone had to practically shout to be heard. Twice men approached En-hedu to see if she were available, but Tammuz put his hand on his knife, and the men shrugged and turned away.

  As the evening grew later and later, the grinning patrons left as they arrived, by ones and twos, until finally the innkeeper secured the door and put out the fire. Snoring men who had had too much to drink soon created another type of din, but Tammuz and En-hedu were used to that, too.

  In the morning, they gathered their sacks and went out into the lane. They bought fresh bread in the market, then began searching for a tavern to purchase. En-hedu expected this to be a simple enough process. Buying an inn shouldn’t be any more complicated than buying a house, just a slightly larger one. Anyone could call a one-room hut a tavern, and more than a few proprietors did just that. Larger establishments, like the one they stayed at last night, would cost more coins to acquire, but En-hedu thought that they should be able to purchase a good-sized place for twenty silver coins or so. Nevertheless, Yavtar had warned them of the difficulties they might encounter.

  Before the sun reached its peak in the sky, they found one not far from the docks that looked promising. After studying it, they approached the owner.

  “Can’t sell to you,” the prospective seller said. “Wish I could, but only King Eridu’s men can buy and sell a tavern in Sumer now. A new law, passed only a few months ago. Just another tax, really.”

  “Then how do we buy one?” Tammuz asked.

  “Fresh from the farm, I see.” The man laughed. “Well, first, you have to bribe a local merchant or trader to represent you. Then he and the seller set the price, which will be higher than you expect, so th
ey can both make an extra profit off you. And in addition to the price, you’ll pay another silver coin to King Eridu’s men.”

  “What trader would you recommend?” En-hedu asked.

  “One’s as bad as the other. You’ll probably have to wait all day or even longer just to see one.” The innkeeper lowered his voice. “Then, a few days after the sale, you may find yourself turned out of your place by Eridu’s cronies at the palace. They don’t like people from the countryside buying establishments in Sumer. So once they’ve taken your coins, unless the king and his people approve of you, they just take your property and turn you out.”

  The proprietor shook his head at the injustice. “If you find someone to help you, come back. I’d love to take a profit and return to Nippur. I was born there, and now I have a farm and wife waiting there for me.”

  En-hedu and Tammuz thanked the helpful innkeeper and turned away. They found a shady spot against a wall where they could sit. The smell of urine wasn’t too bad, and the people passing by ignored them, as they would any beggars.

  “We can’t take a chance on something like that happening,” Tammuz said. “If we’re turned out, we’ll never be able to buy another one without arousing suspicion.”

  “That means we’ll have to go to Merchant Gemama. If he arranges it, we’ll be able to buy this place without dealing with King Eridu’s men.”

  Yavtar had advised them to seek Gemama’s assistance if they needed it, but warned them of the danger as well.

  “As soon as we mention Yavtar’s name, he’ll know we’re spies,” Tammuz said.

  “Perhaps not. And even if he does, if he denounces us, we can do the same to him,” En-hedu said. “And what we’ve heard of King Eridu, even an accusation would be enough of an excuse to seize Gemama’s property, or at the very least demand a large bribe from the merchant.”

  Since Eridu’s return to Sumer, his rule of the city had turned into a nightmare for its inhabitants. King One-hand, as he was now called behind his back, had already killed more than a dozen people for the slightest of reasons. He’d raised taxes twice, desperate to recover the ransom he’d paid, not to mention the gold wasted on the lost campaign. Men, weapons, horses, food — Eridu had expended huge amounts of gold in the last year and now had nothing to show for it. The people’s unhappiness showed in their sullen faces, especially the women. Many had lost a husband or son in the fighting.