Conflict of Empires es-3

by Sam Barone

  “Then we might as well get it over with,” Tammuz said.

  They walked the dusty lanes until they found Gemama’s house. The guard at the gate refused them entry, of course, until they produced a copper coin to show their good intentions. So early in the day, Gemama wasn’t home, so they waited, along with four other prospective clients, for their chance to speak to the merchant.

  “We might be here for the rest of the afternoon, and he still might not see us,” Tammuz complained.

  “Then we’ll return in the morning, or try and see him at the docks.”

  The other petitioners ignored them, two country bumpkins who looked as poor as any grubbing farmer. Fortunately for Tammuz and Enhedu, Gemama must have had a good day’s trading, for he returned to his house well before the sun began to set.

  As he walked through the gate, he glanced over those waiting to see him. When he caught sight of Tammuz and En-hedu, his eyes widened with curiosity. No doubt he seldom dealt with anyone as poor as they appeared to be.

  Everyone still had to wait. Gemama had his own needs to satisfy before he bothered with seeing anyone who might wish to do business with him. Naturally, Tammuz and En-hedu had to sit patiently until the others had been taken, one by one, to conduct their affairs with the merchant.

  When Tammuz and En-hedu were led inside the garden, they found Gemama sitting at a wide table not far from the entrance to his house. The merchant yawned, clearly looking forward to his supper. Two nakhla trees — as the date palms were called in Sumeria — provided a canopy to block the sun from their owner. A frowning clerk sat at the far end of the table, wet clay and wooden chisel in hand, ready to record anything of interest. A small wooden box rested before him, no doubt filled with a handful of coins received or dispensed at the merchant’s pleasure.

  “What do you want?” Gemama began, not wishing to waste any time.

  “Please, Noble,” En-hedu began, bowing low before raising her eyes. “We wish to purchase a tavern in Sumer. My Uncle Yavtar said we should speak with you if we needed any assistance in buying an inn. We are willing to pay you a small fee each month, if you can help arrange the purchase. My uncle said he has traded with you before. We come from the village of Ubaid. He has a farm there.”

  En-hedu watched Gemama’s eyes at the mention of Yavtar’s name, but the merchant didn’t react. No one became a master trader who let his thoughts cross his face. Besides, while Yavtar’s name wasn’t a common one, neither was it unique enough to stand out.

  “I don’t remember anyone from Ubaid,” Gemama said. He lifted his ornately carved wine cup, inhaled the aroma for a long moment, then drained it. “Bring me another,” he said to his clerk, pushing the cup toward him. He drummed his fingers on the table. “You wish to purchase a tavern, you say?”

  “Yes, Noble. We’ve found one — ”

  By then the clerk was across the garden. “First refresh my memory of your Uncle Yavtar.”

  En-hedu, whose mind excelled at matching faces and names, gave a good description of the Akkadian trader.

  Gemama nodded. “Yes, I remember your uncle.”

  “We have the silver to buy the tavern, and we can pay you something for your help, Noble,” she added. “My uncle said to tell you he would again be in your debt.”

  The clerk returned, carefully carrying the wine cup in both hands, so as not to spill any. A clumsy servant who drank part of it himself, or claimed to have spilled it, would find the price of the drink taken from his meager earnings. A slave would simply be beaten. The clerk set it down on the table close to his master’s hand.

  “Well, if you can pay, then I suppose I must honor an old friendship,” Gemama said, frowning in his reluctance. “You will pay me one silver coin now, in addition to what the seller asks for his tavern, and the fee that must be paid to King Eridu. Then you will pay me one silver coin each month for a year. You have enough for all that?”

  “Yes, Noble,” En-hedu said, forcing a smile despite the steep prices. “We have just enough, Noble.” With the clerk there, it wouldn’t do to admit to have more coins. He might have friends of his own who would be interested in relieving two strangers of their wealth.

  Gemama rose. “Return here in the morning. Ask for Melchior,” he nodded to his assistant. “My clerk will take care of everything.”

  With a wave of his hand, he dismissed them. En-hedu and Tammuz both bowed several times before walking quickly from the garden.

  Once in the lane outside, Tammuz led the way. “He suspects us already.”

  “More than suspects. He knows,” En-hedu agreed. “Yavtar said Gemama knew war was coming. But he’s earned even more of Yavtar’s favor for this, and at very little risk. If the war goes badly for Sumer, Yavtar will protect him. If Sumer wins, then we can be denounced or killed at any time.”

  Tammuz spat on the ground. “Sumer will never beat Akkad. Look at the people’s faces. They’ve been defeated once. They’ve had a bellyful of fighting.”

  “For now,” En-hedu said. “But in six months, even a year, things may change.”

  “Only the gods know for sure.” Tammuz put his arm around Enhedu’s waist and gave her a squeeze. “Only one more night at that wretched inn. With luck, tomorrow evening we’ll sleep in a place of our own once again.”

  “Then tomorrow night, I promise to pleasure you with my new skills.”

  “Then whatever we pay for the tavern, it will be well worth the cost.”

  16

  King Eridu pounded his fist on the table so hard the heavy wood shook under the impact. “What do you mean, they cannot come? How dare they refuse my summons!” A fleck of spittle driven by the force of his words hung unnoticed at the corner of his mouth.

  Five men sat at Eridu’s council table, and not one of them lifted his eyes to meet the enraged king of Sumer. Razrek, in charge of the king’s soldiers, sat at Eridu’s left. Shulgi, Eridu’s son and second in command under Razrek, sat at his father’s right. The three remaining men represented cities in Sumeria: Hammurat, from Larsa; Kuara from Isin; and Emenne, from Lagash. The representatives from Nippur and Uruk had failed to arrive. Each sent a messenger pleading urgent business that kept them at home.

  The sound of birds chirping came from the garden below, their cheerful notes enhanced by the silence that followed King Eridu’s rage. At last Kuara, chief advisor to Naxos, the king of Isin, lifted his eyes. “They did not come, King Eridu, because they will not support a second attack on Akkad’s border. They know the time is not yet right to start another war. As does my own King Naxos of Isin. Everyone knows the barbarian Eskkar keeps his promises. One more raid on his lands, and the war will come south. It will be the cities and villages and farmlands of Sumeria that will face devastation and destruction.”

  “So Isin is afraid to fight,” sneered Eridu.

  Kuara reached out with his right hand to lift his wine cup. He took a small sip before setting it back on the table. He possessed only a thumb and forefinger on that hand. The subtle gesture sent a message to Eridu. Kuara had once fought as a soldier for King Naxos, until an enemy sword stroke cut off his fingers. As men told the story, Kuara still managed to kill his opponent, despite the severity of his wound.

  “Isin will fight when the time is suitable, when what we expect to gain outweighs the risks.”

  Eridu snorted. “Now your warrior king is a merchant, weighing profit and loss?”

  Kuara shook his head in resignation. “The land Akkad holds is needed by Isin even more than Sumer. We will fight to take that land, take what is ours. Many men in Isin are eager to wage war against Eskkar, and King Naxos will supply more than his share of fighting men when the time is right. But now is not that time.”

  “That is the same concern of King Naran, which he wished to convey to you.” Hammurat of Larsa spoke with a hint of passion in his voice. Tall and spare, he had advised the king of Larsa for many years. “Larsa needs time to strengthen its walls and build up its defenses. If the barbari
an comes south, Larsa will be the first to feel his fury.”

  “Your King Naran was eager enough to cross the Sippar and seize the farmlands,” Eridu said. “And to take the largest share of what we captured. Now you want to hold back? While the Akkadians increase their strength?”

  “Larsa took the larger share because we took the greatest risk, and many of our men died in the fighting.” Hammurat shook his head. “We will send our soldiers across the border when a victory can be assured. Perhaps in a year or two — ”

  “King Naran and the others will send more men at once!” Eridu’s hand shook with anger. “The sooner we attack, the faster Akkad will be destroyed!”

  “Neither Larsa, nor Isin will send more soldiers at this time,” Kuara said. “Nor will the other cities. This is the message King Naxos of Isin told me to bring to you. Eskkar’s forces are too strong to challenge again.”

  Mentioning the name of Akkad’s ruler brought even more fury to Eridu’s already red face. Veins bulged on his forehead. “The other cities will obey me! They will provide me with men and gold, or I’ll have Razrek level their cities to the ground!”

  Kuara turned his gaze toward the leader of Eridu’s soldiers. “What do you say, Razrek? Will you lead your men against our cities?”

  “Razrek will do as I ask,” Eridu said, his fist clenching once again.

  “Is the man who led the attacks on the border not allowed to speak for himself?” Kuara’s words remained soothing, intended to calm Eridu’s anger. “Is this a council of equals, or are we just summoned here to hear King Eridu’s pronouncements?”

  Everyone’s eyes went to Razrek, who shifted uneasily in his chair. “I think it would be unwise to bring force against our allies,” Razrek said. “It’s one thing to call for war against a common enemy. But many of my soldiers are from these cities. They would likely desert rather than fight their own kin. The Akkadians are hated by all, but Larsa, Isin… all the Sumerian cities… the men would wonder why we went to war against our allies.”

  The fingers on Eridu’s remaining hand trembled. “You are saying you cannot lead your own men? They… you will refuse my orders?”

  “No, my king. My men and I will fight at your command. But I still think now is not the right time to resume the war on Akkad. Or to start a new fight against the other cities of Sumeria.”

  “Nor do I,” Kuara said. “You’re consumed with rage and hatred for Eskkar. You want to attack him and punish him for what he did to you, and you want to do it now.”

  “He will suffer. I swear Eskkar’s head will hang over Sumer’s gate. As will yours, Kuara, and all of you, if you do not obey my orders.”

  Kuara leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. “The people of Isin are not yet your slaves, King Eridu. And if any harm should come to me — to any of us — Sumer will find itself at war with the other cities. King Naxos knows the ways of war quite well.” Kuara glanced at Hammurat and Emenne, who nodded agreement. Clearly, Kuara spoke for all of them.

  “You have less than half the number of men you had when you crossed the border,” Kuara went on, “and many of these are replacements, raw recruits fresh from the farm. Even worse, any mention of attacks against Lord Eskkar convinces more and more of your experienced men to desert. They believe he cannot be beaten in battle, and they do not want to face his Akkadian archers again.”

  “He can be beaten!” Eridu shouted, half-rising from his chair. “He’s an ignorant barbarian and he will be killed, his army destroyed!”

  “How?”

  The single word hung in the air. Eridu’s mouth opened, but nothing came out.

  “I ask again.” Kuara kept all emotion from his voice. “How will you defeat him? By marching north? By walking into Akkadian arrows again? By attacking the man who defeated the Alur Meriki in three battles, and who killed the Egyptian and all his men who tried to capture Akkad? By challenging the man who just destroyed half your army and cut off your hand?”

  At the mention of his lost hand, Eridu’s fury increased until the large vein on his forehead bulged and threatened to burst and cover the table in blood.

  “We’ll raise more men,” Eridu said. “We can raise three, four times as many soldiers as Akkad.”

  Kuara shook his head. “Ask Razrek. Ask your son, Shulgi. Will numbers guarantee success against the barbarian? You yourself had him outnumbered by four to one, yet your men were defeated, and he scarcely lost a man. King Naxos and I spoke to some of the survivors. They saw how few casualties the Akkadians took. Eskkar could have killed his prisoners or kept them as slaves, but he was cunning enough to let the defeated soldiers live, let them go free so that they would tell everyone in Sumeria what they faced. Eskkar spoke with all of them, and warned them of their fate if he ever captured them again. He knows how to bend even his enemies to his will. Our soldiers said his men treated him almost like a god. They were in awe of him.”

  “We were caught by surprise.” Eridu’s voice sounded hoarse, and he could barely get the words out without choking. “We should have beaten them… a few more moments and Eskkar’s men would have been destroyed.”

  “Perhaps it is as you say, King Eridu. Like you, I believe any man can be beaten. But what is done is done. Raising another army is not a plan that guarantees success, not against a trained and experienced warrior.” He glanced at his companions again. “So tell us, King Eridu, how you will defeat him this time?”

  “Razrek and I will come up with a new plan. We’ll find a way to lure him south and crush him.”

  Kuara tactfully didn’t bother to mention that that plan had already been tried and failed.

  “Eridu, all of us wish to see Akkad’s ruler killed and the city destroyed. We all wish to take our share of the lands north of the border. But our men will not follow you down that path again. You’ve fought Eskkar. He offered you a sword to fight him, man to man, and when you refused, he cut off your hand. Even if the soldiers obey your orders, they will march into battle knowing that you dared not face him yourself, knowing that their cause is lost, that victory always sides with the barbarian. They will fight poorly, and run as soon as the first Akkadian arrow flies over their heads.”

  “Your insolence will be remembered,” Eridu said. “You, all of you will — ”

  “My king,” Razrek cut in, before Eridu did even worse damage to his cause. “We must be patient. We have suffered a serious defeat, and it takes time for soldiers to lick their wounds and forget their shame and embarrassment. Give me a few months, and they will burn with thoughts of revenge against Eskkar. They will remember how he attacked them by surprise. Meanwhile, we need time to raise and train many more soldiers. And Kuara speaks the truth. We need to find a new plan to destroy Akkad. When we have that, the men will take heart and fight with all their strength once again.”

  Eridu wasn’t ready to give up yet. He turned to his son. “Shulgi, you can take command of Razrek’s men. You can lead the men north.”

  “No, Father. Razrek is right,” Shulgi said. The son possessed his father’s height, but broad muscles covered his chest, and thick arms showed the effects of years of training. He had only eighteen seasons, but he spoke with the voice of one much older. “Our soldiers believe that Eskkar is either blessed by the gods or protected by demons. They believe… they know, he will win if it comes to a battle. We must remove such thoughts from their memories. We can prepare for a future battle, but it will be many months, perhaps years before we are ready to fight again.”

  “Listen to your son, to Shulgi,” Kuara said, his voice now soft and persuasive. “He grows in wisdom with every passing day. When the time is ready, the cities of Sumeria will provide men to defeat Akkad. But we must not move too soon.”

  Eridu pushed himself to his feet, his hand flat on the table for support. “Get out! Get out, all of you! You’re nothing but cowards! I’ll lead the men myself. Then I’ll settle with each of you.”

  Kuara shrugged in resignation. He rose, as did
his companions. He bowed graciously to Eridu, but left the chamber without a word, the other two representatives trailing behind.

  Razrek started to speak, but Eridu cut him off. “You get out, too. You and your cowards left me alone to face the Akkadians. With all your horsemen, you failed even to get a warning to us.”

  Razrek started to answer the charge, but he caught Shulgi’s eye and saw the shake of his head. “Yes, my king.” Razrek bowed and left the room.

  Father and son watched the soldier depart. Shulgi waited until the door closed. “Should I leave, too, Father?”

  Eridu reached across the table to drag the pitcher of wine toward him, and he poured himself a cup. His left hand still didn’t equal the right, and wine spilled across the surface, angering him further.

  “How dare you not support your own father? You should have challenged Razrek. You keep telling me you’re ready to lead the soldiers, but you’re as weak as the others. You fear even to avenge your father. Go. Go back to your men and pretend to be a soldier. And send my steward to me.”

  “Yes, Father.” Shulgi rose and left the chamber, as silently as the others.

  Outside the gloomy chamber, Shulgi found Petrah, his father’s steward, waiting in the corridor in case he was needed. The old man had served Eridu faithfully for more than twenty years, and in that time Petrah had developed an uncanny sense of knowing when he would be wanted.

  “He asked for you, Petrah. Be aware, he’s in a foul mood.”

  “Thank you.” Petrah never bothered to waste words. He brushed past Shulgi and closed the door behind him.