He would click his teeth every time he thought about Talmido’s death-defying feats, wanting his gifts with covetousness of unbridled purpose. He focused all his energies on the acquisition of Talmido’s fame through the formulation of a plan to legally steal all his worldly possessions through either defamation of character, slanderous rumors of potential treason, unfounded accusations of murder, or a well-thought-out and prepared setup. But to Hattusili’s surprised glee, Talmido provided the reason on a silver platter.
“My lord, Bilkummi is waiting for you, as requested,” a female slave of Hattusili’s tent indicated. Hattusili lay upon his bed with Shishak sprawled next to him, with welts upon his back, buttocks, and legs.
Hattusili stirred and opened his eyes to stare at the tent’s ceiling, recalling the pleasure of the previous night. He looked to his left and frowned with distaste, waving at the slave.
“Send this boy back to the male harem and bring me some water to wash up.”
“Yes, my lord, right away.”
Hattusili swung his legs to the right and sat on the edge of the bed, cradling his head in his hands, shaking away the sleep to try and get ready for the day. He stood up as another female slave draped him in a silk robe. Walking over to the wash basin, he contemplated the day’s activities to unfold and chuckled to himself, thinking, “Talmido, you are such a fool. I will have your wealth and fame in short order, and you will be dead.”
After washing up and eating a hearty breakfast, Hattusili commanded Bilkummi to enter. He was his best spy, picked by Hattusili himself after witnessing his extraordinary ability to extract information, kill suspects and remain unnoticed by the commanding officers. Hattusili had immediately sent for Bilkummi and made an offer he could not refuse.
“Aaah, Bilkummi, how good it is to see you. It looks like my gold and slaves are treating you well these days.”
“Yes, my lord, they are, thank you. You sent for me?”
“Yes, yes. Come and sit with me. We do not need to be so formal. We are cut from the same cloth.”
Bilkummi relaxed and sat upon a chair as indicated by Hattusili. A slave gave him a goblet of wine and platter of meats which he graciously accepted.
“My lord, if I may ask, what is on your mind?”
“I need some special work done, and you are to be the only one to do it. I do not want any other agents involved with this.”
Bilkummi nodded his head in the affirmative while rubbing his chin as he chewed on some of the hors-d’oeuvres.
“I need you to keep an eye on a certain officer, Talmido, of the Blue Heron regiment. I want to know everything he is up to and reported back to me every three days.”
“Absolutely, my lord, it will be done immediately,” Bilkummi said with a genuine smile of pleasure. It was always a good thing when Hattusili set his sights on a victim, as it significantly impacted Bilkummi’s accumulation of wealth. “Are you considering an acquisition?”
“Perhaps. I just wonder how it is that Talmido can be so successful. There is something going on, Bilkummi. I can feel it. I want to know everything he does; who he talks to, how he fights, his friends and his lovers. He is becoming much too powerful. I fear the men will only take commands from Talmido and will ignore our great general,” Hattusili said with a slight sigh and a shrugging of his shoulders.
“I’ll put only the best men in place, my lord. We will keep him in sight at all times.
“Thank you, Bilkummi.”
Nodding, Hattusili looked up at Bilkummi. “Yes, we need to provide a report to Bel-Taggil. He is not yet aware of the potential danger this Talmido may become. We need to be prepared for when that time comes, Bilkummi.”
Spies of spies was an age-old tactic of informational awareness, and with Hattusili’s spies networked among the Assyrian army, he was able to keep a finger on the pulse of the morale, inventory, and status of each soldier and officer. This supplied Hattusili with valuable information on whom to target for the predatory acquisition of assets via various tried-and-true smear campaigns.
“Should I double your guard, my lord?” Bilkummi asked.
“Hmm…yes, that is a good idea. If Talmido’s people find out what we are up to, I don’t want to be on the receiving end of a viper.”
“I’ll station the men appropriately, my lord.”
Not once, but numerous times were assassination attempts made on his life; however, he was able to either thwart or dodge them at the last minute, to his credit. The rank and file knew of his machinations and hated him with a passion; however, from the senior officers’ point of view, he was a valuable asset in keeping discipline and order as well as increasing their own material assets without it being common knowledge that they were in on the game.
“Also, make sure General Bel-Taggil is aware of our counter measures, as well as the senior officers. I want to know if any are sympathetic to Talmido,” Hattusili said.
“Yes, my lord. I’ll have the slaves start some rumors to get the junior officers talking. I’ll have my spies spread information to create mistrust in the ranks, as well. That should start the process. What do you think, my lord?”
“I agree. Let’s get the rumour mill going. It has always served us well in the past.” Hattusili smirked into his wine goblet.
The corruption within the senior-officer pool had not lent itself toward a cohesive ideological mix within the army. Factions formed to counterbalance the power plays with an inevitable weakening of morale and ability of the military to campaign efficiently against the Elamites and Parthians, hence the prolonged fighting over the decades. Warfare had become a drug of choice for the Assyrian emperor, the senior military officers, and the supporting rank and file.
“Once we get everyone on board, we’ll need to discuss the usual fees to the officers involved,” Bilkummi mentioned.
“Hmm, of course. Send in Tukullu to handle the officers and I’ll deal with Bel-Taggil. This will be a very sensitive situation, Bilkummi. We’ll need to be very careful.”
“Yes, my lord, of course. I’ll apprise the men involved of the nature of this particular target,” Bilkummi said.
“Good. Now, let’s eat. I’m starving,” Hattusili replied as he clapped his hands for slaves to serve the noon meal.
As loot from the campaigns came into the army groups and appropriations were levied against the subjugated nations, Hattusili was the man in the center who coordinated the acquisitions and the subsequent dispersal. Slowly, over time, he was able to glean off a percentage for himself and the officers to their benefit, while shortchanging the rest of the army group. At times, faulty equipment or shoddy workmanship would show up within each battalion group to the chagrin of every captain and lieutenant alike. This severely compromised the integrity of the army’s effectiveness, but as long as the senior officers were well taken care of, it did not seem to matter.
Hattusili had noticed soon enough the exploits of Talmido and his ever-increasing acquisition of materials and slaves. Jealousy and covetousness encapsulated his heart, entirely overwhelming any and all sense. With all his stealth, he had continually maneuvered to put Talmido on the front lines and on the first detail duty while on reprieve. Hattusili knew no man could endure these successive trials of the body and mind, so he waited for Talmido to break and take the first wrong step.
He didn’t have long to wait, and to his great joy, Talmido eventually went so far as to make it substantially simpler for him to secure Talmido’s wealth and defame his character. Talmido was even foolish enough to convince the men of his company to join him in a desertion plan. Hattusili had allowed the men and their families, slaves, animals, and material wealth to leave. Five spies were following the caravan at a respectable distance, reporting any movement or change in the fleeing group’s direction directly to Belkummi, then on to Hattusili himself.
“My lord, a contingent of one thousand soldiers have left the camp and are currently moving southeast,” Belkummi reported.
“Ah, the
game has started. Who are the co-conspirators?” Hattusili asked.
“They are Akhiramy, Si-tatious, Sapalulmea, and Katraneous, my lord. Si-tatious is with the caravan and Akhiramy and Katraneous are helping Talmido to take Sapalulmea out of the camp. What do you want to do?”
“Capture the three of them. I’ll take care of Talmido. Send two of the most disrespectful and hated men in the army. I’ll be needing their services.”
“Right away, my lord.”
At the right time, Hattusili would report this to the general and perhaps volunteer himself to assist in the pursuit to catalog the deaths of the mutinous soldiers and the capture of the slaves and materials. Because of the desertion, all the slaves and materials were to be apportioned to the emperor and then to the general, so of course, the general would acquiesce to the pursuit and request, so thought Hattusili.
What had surprised Hattusili the most was the audacity of Talmido. He wanted to just walk to the general’s tent as if he was a free man and demand a meeting with him to discuss his freedom and desertion of the Assyrian military campaign, as if that would happen. Ah, but the vagaries of man and his free will—would they see no end? Was there no boundary to their expressions?
Using the two men Bilkummi sent, Hattusili worked with haste to set up a trap for the time when Talmido would be waiting in the general’s tent for Bel-Taggil to arrive. He called two of the most undesirable men to him and ordered them to remain behind the shelter to pull a set of cords given to them. Hattusili had hastily put together flattened wooden cell bars under the rug flooring beneath the table in the middle of the general’s tent. Once Talmido was in a relaxed state, the men were to pull the cords and entrap him until the general arrived and judgment was given.
Chapter 11
Freedom’s Flight
It was as dark as the pits of the Anunnaki’s purgatory. It had been said in antiquity that the gods came to earth to teach men the ways of life. Talmido did not believe this, as he felt the gods were nothing but men of deceit and lies.
Cloud cover held the moon and stars at bay for the time being, and Talmido surveyed his options, knowing time was quickly running out. Sapalulmea knelt beside him, wondering what to do, holding his hand, and faintly shaking under the weight of the darkness and the fear of being caught. He had ordered his slaves and assets to drive hard toward the south along the Tigris River without rest. Si-tatious was with them, beating the animals along as hard as he dared without killing them or creating a riot among the slaves.
The men under Talmido’s command had agreed to join him on his escape, thus forming a contingent one thousand strong. They were to take Sapalulmea with them and join the fleeing caravan at a designated spot where the Tigris and the Euphrates Rivers were the closest to each other.
Katraneous stepped out from the shadows and whistled into the night to alert Talmido of his presence. When an answer came back, he moved on to hail his friend. Talmido clasped his hand and kissed him on both cheeks, as was the custom, and gave Sapalulmea to him for safekeeping.
Talmido had decided to pay the commanders of his regiment a visit to dissuade them from pursuing him and his men. Once he felt Sapalulmea was safely on her way from the camp, Talmido slipped a small dagger within his cloak and moved toward the tent of the company commander. Eyes followed him as he made his way through the camp, and whispers encircled him with questions and statements of treason. This was to be anticipated, as Talmido understood that a propaganda campaign had already started to dissuade any who contemplated leaving with him.
He knew the danger he was stepping into by approaching the general and challenging his decision. It was a direct threat to the hierarchy of the military establishment and an insult to the general himself. Talmido was very conscious of this; however, he could not come to any other conclusion as to how to possibly approach the matter. It was not his intent to harm the general, but only to try to reason with him and perhaps acquire his blessing and a proper discharge.
Talmido walked calmly toward the commander’s tent, contemplating the potential events to unfold, when the dark shadow of a hand clamped down on his forearm with a viselike grip, startling him out of his thoughts. Whirling around, he brandished his dagger at a familiar face. Talmido exclaimed in a hissed whisper, “Akhiramy! You almost got yourself killed, my friend! What are you doing here? You should be with the caravan.”
“I have urgent news for you, Talmido. Hattusili, the Hittite scribe, infiltrated our company with his spies and determined when and where we are going. He has informed General Bel-Taggil of the situation, and now three divisions of soldiers have left in chase of the caravan,” Akhiramy hastily spat out. “And at this very moment, Hattusili has formed a company of guards waiting for you at the general’s tent to intercept you and throw you into the stockades.”
“How many men are there at the general’s tent?”
“Two hundred and fifty,” Akhiramy replied.
“How determined are the men?” Talmido asked.
“They are Hattusili’s personal contingent.”
“Is the general informed of these current events at his tent?” Talmido shook his head in disbelief.
“No, he is not. He is with Diatri, the priest, questioning him on the outcome of the battle plans for tomorrow’s assault,” Akhiramy stated.
“Akhiramy, please do not worry about me. Go and meet up with Katraneous to provide cover support and meet up with me at the caravan,” Talmido commanded.
At that, Akhiramy took his leave and disappeared back into the shadows from whence he came, and Talmido turned and walked back onto the path leading to the general’s tent. He did not want violence but knew it might be inevitable. He did not want to kill any soldiers due to the confusion of politics and his desire for freedom, but if it came down to a fight and that was what they wanted, he would give them one they would never forget.
Straightening his back with resolve, he passed men hunkered down by their campfires, who were either eating, drinking, laughing, crying, singing, or sleeping. They were living a life he had known for thirty-four years—an experience ingrained into every fiber of his mind, body, and soul. He knew these were to be the last moments of that life and from then on, the future was up to him—a daunting thought, to say the least.
As he approached the general’s tent, he noticed more and more men were absent, and silence seemed to descend upon the immediate area. His ears became acuter to the whispers of men and the wind. His sense of smell picked up the odors of polished iron and greased leather. His muscles instinctively tightened, creating a knotted spring of explosive reaction. Talmido began to walk slower, waiting for the trap, but none appeared, to his surprise. The general’s tent came into view, and standing outside was Hattusili, hands clasped together in front of him in submission. Once he caught sight of Talmido, he waved his arms, indicating to Talmido to come to him, and he smiled with a practiced grimace of welcome.
Talmido—a man of action, a destroyer of life, and a taker of defiance—stopped where he was and looked intently at Hattusili with puzzled amazement, not quite knowing what to do.
“Talmido, my friend and brother, what brings you here with such a look of confusion?” Hattusili questioned with a smile wide and beckoning, but with eyes full of dark, simmering jealousy.
“I desire to talk with the general, Hattusili. May I be allowed a meeting with him?” Talmido asked.
“Yes, of course, and what does it concern, my friend?”
“I would like to discuss it with the general himself, Hattusili,” Talmido answered.
“Come in, come in, Talmido. No need for us to carry on a discussion out here where the buzzards and the crows have wagging tongues,” Hattusili cajoled.
Talmido hesitated, thinking of the possible outcomes of agreeing with Hattusili. He is a consummate politician with the immoral values to suit the personality requirement. Climbing the rungs of the Royal ladder is his one and only passion.
Talmido knew it to be a trap
, but he did not have any option since meeting with the general was his desire, and waiting for him in his tent was the usual protocol. So with a shrug of his shoulders, he calmly walked into the viper’s nest, all his senses heightened with awareness. He listened to the wind moving around the tent and felt the dust clinging to his skin while closely watching Hattusili for any sign of malcontent.
“Please, Talmido, sit here where it is comfortable, and I will fetch the general for you.” Hattusili graciously motioned toward a couch and waved a slave over to pour Talmido a drink of wine.
“Thank you. If the general is too busy to meet with me now, perhaps another time is more favorable?”
“No, no—not at all. The general will be done shortly, and I’ll let him know you are waiting to see him.”
“Hmm.” Talmido nodded while taking the cup of wine from the slave.
At that, Hattusili turned and left the tent with a flourish of his robe and a quick nod to Talmido.
Talmido looked around the tent and pondered this strange behavior, wondering if it was about any leaked news about his leaving the army.
“How can it not be?” He thought. “There is a catch to this, but what is it?”
He sensed more than heard a gentle rustling coming from outside the tent, adjacent to the entrance. It was so soft a movement that he would have missed it if not for a lull in the breeze blowing against the sidewalls. It quietly persisted until a more particular slight of foot revealed a mass just on the other side of the wall behind Talmido. With a jump, Talmido threw himself toward the right of the couch, and after rolling onto his feet with momentum to spare, he drew his knife to slash the wall of the tent.
He exploded out into the dark of the night, his feet hitting the ground with a thump and a stride to match, and he ultimately caught the individuals hiding behind the wall in utter and complete surprise. He rammed his fist into the first face he saw and kicked the second just under the chin to sudden gasps of disbelief and panic. The two men had been hiding in this position under the order of Hattusili to pull a switch in which to trap Talmido inside the tent while he was lounging on the couch.
The Causality of Time Page 6