The Causality of Time

by Jonnathan Strawthorne

  A day passed with the men starting to grow restless; however, the veterans were accustomed to this “hurry up and wait” approach to warfare and the inevitable positioning and jockeying for tactical advantage.

  A scout arrived with news, saying the Assyrians had camped directly north of the valley and set up camp. Additionally, two Assyrian scouts were captured and brought to Talmido. These were proud men, seasoned in the art of war, who knew what was needed to be done.

  “Tell me the purpose of your army group,” Talmido demanded.

  “We are to pursue the deserters, destroy any resistance, and bring back any survivors along with the heads of the group’s leaders,” the man explained.

  “And who are the leaders thought to be?”

  “Talmido the Terrible and Si-tatious the Crusher,” he replied.

  “Ah, the ‘Terrible’ and the ‘Crusher.’” Talmido laughed with Si-tatious. “So the army has resorted to providing inspirational names to these leaders?”

  “No. It is coming from the men, sir.”

  “And what is the position of the men regarding this situation? Are they ready to fight?”

  “The morale is quite good. The men will be given double rations, triple the coin, and reduced service times upon the successful completion of the tasks,” the scout remarked with a straightening of his shoulders and the beginning of a smile flickering at the corners of his mouth.

  “What is it that you find so humorous? Speak now, man, or I will have you run through,” Si-tatious commanded with a growl of menace.

  “Your spies have, however, done a superb job. Many of the men, it would seem, love freedom more than food, gold, or acceptance within the Assyrian military. Almost half have pledged their allegiance to your cause, my lord, along with my companion and me. We knew your scouts were following us and let ourselves be caught so we could see for ourselves the men that will defy an empire with such terrible deeds and crushing opposition. We want to be a part of your vision, if you so allow.” The two men smiled and nodded together as one.

  “And how are we to know of your fealty toward our cause?” Talmido asked.

  “We bring you private communications between our army commander and the new general of the Assyrian army that I am certain you will find very informative and helpful. We have information on the Babylonian army contingents stationed throughout their kingdom as well, which will assist your group in avoiding them,” he said as he stretched out his hand with parchments grasped firmly in it.

  Si-tatious took the parchments from him and unrolled them on the table, studying them intently while the others looked on.

  “It would seem you are telling the truth. Guards, put these men into the stockade until we confirm what they have provided us,” Si-tatious ordered.

  The two men complied, knowing it would be foolish to protest or resist, and followed their armed guards toward the stockade.

  “What do you think, Si-tatious?” Talmido asked.

  “It seems the truth has been provided. I’ll check with our spies and scouts to confirm this. It will only take me until the morrow.”

  “In the meantime, let’s put together a delegation for a parley with the Assyrian commander to determine if there is any hope for the negotiation of a truce, or if war is the only way,” Talmido directed.

  The next day, Talmido, Si-tatious, and ten soldiers set up a table and shade in the center of the valley and waited for the Assyrian commander to arrive. Messengers had been dispatched the day before with a request for a parley, and the commander had accepted. Now, with the sun beating down and flies biting chunks of flesh out of horse and man alike, it seemed like a futile effort; however, a horn blew, announcing the commander’s approach. Talmido and Si-tatious, out of habit, both stood up as the commander dismounted from his chariot, along with his own delegation of ten men.

  The commander wore the usual clothing of the time for a man of his stature—long linen garments fringed with tassels of gold beads, interlaced with blue and purple silks. He had a beard of black hair running down the front of his chest braided into independent strands with gold and blue silk strings intertwined within each braid. A slave shaded him from the sun with a palm frond as he walked toward Talmido and Si-tatious.

  The man was no general. He carried himself more like a politician or courtier. His hands were not the hands of a warrior. Both Talmido and Si-tatious looked at each other questioningly and then back toward the man smiling at them with such a broad smile of consumption that it would make the hair on any sane man’s neck stand up in repulsive reaction or complete dread. That man—a person used to the political machinations of men, tribes, and nations—was not someone to trifle with.

  He had witnessed and assisted in the complete destruction of diverse peoples; they were so numerous, in fact, that it was almost impossible to count them. This man was the emperor’s personal viz’ir. He was the emperor’s highest-ranking official, and a gold seal confirming his status hung from his neck for all the world to see.

  “Ah, it is good to finally see the two of you in the flesh, Talmido the Terrible and Si-tatious the Crusher. They are singing songs of you two in secret, thinking the emperor and I would not hear. The peoples of our kingdom seem to find inspiration in your exploits. So the question is, what should we do? What are you going to do?” he asked as he spread out his arms, settling himself on a couch and accepting a goblet of wine from one of his slaves.

  “The situation we find ourselves in must be of great significance for the emperor to send his most trusted and favored viz’ir. Is the empire in such a precarious position that the emperor must focus his attention on our plight?” Talmido asked.

  The viz’ir took a sip of his wine and looked around the table at each of the men while contemplating his response with the careful calculation of a man used to these conversations and entirely in his element. “Talmido, understand that the emperor is not interested in your “plight,” as you put it. He has an empire to run, with much more important matters of state to deal with.” The viz’ir stared across the valley with a look of disdain and boredom, trying to incite Talmido to expose himself by feigning disinterest.

  Talmido would not take the bait; instead, he sat back and sipped on his wine and ate some bread while listening to the breeze slap against the ceiling of the shade. The meeting became nervously quiet before the viz’ir returned his gaze to Talmido with a grin on his face.

  “So . . . What are we to do? You know as well as I the emperor will not tolerate this rebellious desertion. It would send a message to all the vassal states of a potentially weakening Assyrian resolve. We cannot allow our slaves to dictate their terms of subjugation, Talmido. You know this. If I may ask, what caused you to act so, so irrationally, for lack of a better word? Perhaps this has all been a complete misunderstanding.”

  “No, this is not a misunderstanding. My men and I desire freedom from warfare and slavery. We are men like you and the emperor. We cannot tolerate the status quo anymore,” Talmido replied. “We have enriched the emperor and his generals while increasing the empire’s size and scope beyond what his father had. Now we want no part in it.”

  “Yes, all of those are true, Talmido. They cannot be denied. Where do you expect to go if the gods are willing and the Babylonians approve? You and your group are no ally to the Elamites or the Babylonians. How can you stand before them? The emperor is a just and benevolent man. He will forgive these misgivings if you but surrender this ideal and come back to him with a repentant heart.”

  “What guarantee would we have if we took this action that you suggest? How can we trust impalement stakes are not waiting for us back in Assur? No, we cannot take that risk. We have chosen to grasp our freedom and take what comes our way to perhaps curry the favor of the gods someday,” Talmido said with a smile on his face as he gripped his wine goblet harder and harder to release his anger.

  “Listen, Talmido, the emperor is willing to forgive you if you submit now to his divine authority. He
will provide you with land and gold as long as you provide fealty and men for his army. This he guarantees with this seal.”

  At that, the viz’ir held out a tablet of gold with the emperor’s seal on its top. Written on it was the expressed authorization for Talmido to be given land east of Assur with ten talents of gold. He was to be a free man with all the rights of the Assyrian state.

  Talmido whistled through his teeth and handed the tablet over to Si-tatious. He read it and exhaled with a sharp burst of disbelief. They both looked at the viz’ir with doubt and confusion on their faces.

  “What is this? It makes no sense. Why would the emperor do this? We have deserted his army, slain his soldiers and one of his generals, kidnapped his scribes, and stole his gold,” Si-tatious stated.

  “As I said, he is a benevolent man willing to forgive.” The viz’ir gestured with his hands in an open and accepting way.

  “We will contemplate this and provide you with an answer on the morrow at sunrise,” Talmido said while standing up and nodding to his men, signaling for them to leave with him.

  Chapter 28

  A War of Wills

  As Talmido and Si-tatious rode back to the camp, they remained silent, contemplating the viz’ir’s offer. It just seemed too good to be true. The emperor never forgave and never rewarded treasonous behavior, so that move was completely unexpected and uncharacteristic of his nature. Talmido could not remember any precedent for that type of action, so he had his interrogators fetch Hattusili for questioning. Of all people, he would know.

  Hattusili was dragged into the war tent and thrown to the ground. His hair was matted, and his beard was long and scraggly, with bits of debris and food stuck in it. He smelled so terrible everyone had to cover their mouths and noses to keep the stench out. Hattusili kept his head down and looked at the ground.

  “Hattusili, you look the worse for wear. Have the guards been feeding you and looking after you properly?” Talmido asked.

  “Yes, my lord—very well,” he replied.

  “Hattusili, do you remember when you asked me to fetch for you a ring from one of the officers before you would let me have Sapalulmea?”

  “Yes. Of course, my lord, I remember.”

  “You have never once explained to me the purpose of the ring.”

  “I was going to slip it into one of the emperor’s emissary’s tents and blackmail him with it,” he replied.

  “Where is that ring now?” Talmido asked while considering the outcome of the ring’s original owner. He had served under Mindroos for some time and had come to respect him as a leader. Talmido knew of Mindroos’ devotion to the Assyrian emperor and felt a twitch of regret knowing Mindroos was probably dead because of him.

  “It would be with my belongings back in your army camp.”

  Talmido nodded to Si-tatious as he waved at an officer who left the tent to find the ring.

  “Tell me, Hattusili, why would the viz’ir be in an army camp? Not only that, why would he be part of the war party tracking us down?”

  Hattusili snapped his head up with such a start that it caused an audible cracking of his spine, startling the men around him.

  “The viz’ir is here? That is most unusual,” he said with deepening lines of worry creasing his face, as he contemplated the new development. After a moment, he said, “It would seem the emperor is deeply agitated with your desertion or he does not trust anyone to negotiate a potential arbitration for a treaty. He wants to end this affair swiftly either through arms or negotiation with no intent of fulfillment,” Hattusili spat out as he gestured for some water. “May I?” he asked.

  Talmido nodded and asked, “What do you think the real reason may be?”

  “The empire has been experiencing quite a bit of desertion over the last five years due to poor payment to its soldiers, lack of funding for weapon procurement, and corruption on the part of the officers and government administrators. It is nearly broke, from what I can understand, and the emperor wants to take Babylon for all its riches. It is purported that the king of Babylon sleeps on a bed of solid gold and throws copper coins to the crowds each morning as he walks the streets of his city,” Hattusili said after taking a long drink from the water jar.

  “Thank you, Hattusili. You have been very helpful. See to it that he receives a bath and new clothes. He may now be confined to the tent of detention rather than the stockades.”

  “Oh, thank you, my lord. Thank you. You will not regret this, I promise.” Hattusili bowed as he was escorted out of the tent.

  “What do you make of this, Talmido?” Si-tatious mused.

  “It explains the viz’ir’s presence and seeming conciliatory manner, as well as the emperor’s willingness to provide such a tablet,” Talmido replied. “We need that ring, Si-tatious. We can use it to create confusion and mistrust throughout the Assyrian military apparatus.”

  Si-tatious nodded in agreement and took his leave. Talmido pondered the new events and possible ramifications of their revelations. “Perhaps the ring could be used to our benefit by throwing the proverbial dogs off our scent,” He thought.

  The next morning, before the cock crowed, Si-tatious brought Talmido the ring, as requested, and they prepared to meet with the viz’ir at the tent of meeting. The mist had formed along the valley floor, and the frost from the early morning was settling onto the vegetation with a cold touch of reality. The men shook off the night’s web of dreams and sleep. The horses stamped their hooves to warm themselves while tendrils of heat floated off their backs as the men prepared them for battle. The time for war had come.

  Chapter 29

  Plight’s War

  The stubborn determination to keep moving was the only thought I could have—the courage to see this through to the finish. I started this, and I needed to fight my way through, as I always had. They murdered my Sapalulmea and my best friends. They hunted me and tried to kill me numerous times, and I survived. It was time to bring it to an end. It was time to make a decisive statement against the corruption and slavery of my enemies. I preferred to negotiate amicably; however, how could I have talked sense to those who had lost all hope of common sense? That was the only answer, and it was one I had to finish.

  It seemed the gods were undecided as to our fate. Good grief, it was cold that morning. My hands were steady, and my heart was firm in its resolve. I trusted that Si-tatious was of the same mind and spirit as myself. He seemed to be. I did not see or feel any doubt in his soul. That was reassuring. I believed the ring would create some uncertainty and confusion on the viz’ir’s part and he would perhaps send a message to the army command. It was heavy and cold on my finger that morning. I would use it to shove down the viz’ir’s arrogant throat the precarious nature of his and the emperor’s position, and then after he had dispatched his messengers, I planned on killing him.

  We could not risk having him go back to the Assyrian army command and report all he had witnessed there. He had to die, and his message had to go with him. Once their messengers were dispatched, we would capture and kill them, substituting our own messengers in with our word. Yes, two could play that game.

  “Ah, there is the sun. Let the rays of hope rain down on us. May the gods be praised. Well, time for us to head out to the tent of meeting and parley,” I thought.

  It would not be revenge. It would be justice and a fight for freedom. I would use my unique talents to bring this whole mess to a final conclusion for my friends and their families. I would not fail. I could not fail.

  There he was, sitting in the tent of meeting with his smug condescension, the assured air of a man who thought control was a commodity to be bought and sold as if it were gold or silver. Not that day—not that day or any other day. I would show him what real control was and make sure he understood it resided with those of actual stature and not those of scheming duplicity. The men were all positioned; they knew their respective roles. Nothing more could be done; it was the time for war.

  It was incredi
ble how a man could talk and not be aware of what he was saying or of his current position. I could have killed him and his men before they even knew they were in danger, but that would not have created the situation we needed to finish this insanity. His eyes were as dead as those of the Leviathan. What could possess a man to accept a fate of duplicitous favoritism, illogical corruption, and the existence of so many lies? Perhaps it was that they believed their own lies after a while.

  “No, you may not cast judgment upon us. Si-tatious is correct in his assumptions and perspective on the situation. You most certainly will die, my nemesis. Yes. As sure as there is air to breathe, you will die by my hand. No mercy will be meted out to you, just as I expect none will be coming from you. Ah, he sees the ring on my finger and raises an eyebrow. The questions have been placed. Now the doubt needs to be implanted,” I said to myself.

  “Do you think we are alone in this, Viz’ir?” I asked.

  “What do you mean by ‘alone,’ Talmido? It is but you and this rabble of men that I see as your dividing line,” he answered.

  “Have you not heard? Surely, your spies would have informed you. Discontent is an ethereal substance, Viz’ir. Only the heart can know it. You, of all people, should know this. How is it that the emperor’s army command can be so compromised? You covet Babylon’s gold, land, and people, yet here you are—chasing us with hot air and bellicosity. Viz’ir, it is time for us to get to business. We are not going to take your offer nor submit willingly to the emperor’s demands. I must take my leave now. Thank you for your time, and may the gods continue to bless you,” I said while standing up and bowing to him. I turned around and strapped on my sword and breastplate with my back to the viz’ir.

  He snorted out a breath of derision and turned with a flourish of arrogance, leaving behind the fragrance of lilacs and the poison behind their beauty. He stepped onto his chariot and ordered a retreat back to the Assyrian army camp. My men dismantled the tent of meeting, and we headed back to the militia camp with a tinge of triumph between Si-tatious and me.