by Sam Barone
Alcinor’s face turned somber. “No, I dared not waste a moment.” He took a deep breath. “I must report what I discovered in the Jkarian Pass.”
Two months ago, Trella had dispatched the young man to the Jkarian Pass, the northern passage to the lands of the Indus. According to her spies, the Elamites planned to send a major cavalry force through the old trade route, to harry Akkad’s northern borders and cut supply lines to the besieged city. Such havoc would be devastating to the farms and small villages in that region, not to mention Eskkar’s plan to defend the city.
She had tasked Alcinor with finding a defensible place where a few men might hold back the coming invaders, at least until Eskkar could free up enough soldiers to deal with them. From the signs of unease on his face, Trella knew he had failed.
Eskkar, too, recognized Alcinor’s expression, and his smile faded. “You did not find a suitable site?”
“No, my Lord.” Alcinor took a deep breath. “I traveled the length of the pass, nearly all the way through the mountains, almost to the lands of the Indus. I mapped the route, and identified several places where the Pass might be defended. I even retraced my steps several times, just to be certain. But each defensible position I found would require a large force of men. I calculated it would take at least two or three thousand soldiers.”
Trella watched her husband’s shoulders slump. For almost a year, a key component of Eskkar’s plan to stop the Elamite invasion depended on holding the Jkarian Pass with a small force. Now Alcinor was saying it couldn’t be done.
She knew her husband did not have an extra two thousand men, let alone three thousand. Not to mention the vast amount of supplies needed to support such an army at that distance from the City, or the fact that the Elamites would be sending at least five or six thousand men through the Pass. Every man Akkad could raise and outfit would be needed elsewhere to repel the main invasion.
Eskkar broke the silence. “I suppose we’ll have to find the men somewhere.”
Trella, however, had detected something else in Alcinor’s demeanor. She leaned forward, her gaze fixed on her visitor. “What else did you find, Alcinor?”
Alcinor hesitated. “There is one place . . . I found one place where it might be possible to close the pass. Permanently.”
Aware of the young man’s nervousness, Trella leaned closer even as she allowed herself a glimmer of hope. “And how would you do that, Master Engineer?”
She used the formal and recently invented title for their guest. In the almost ten years that had passed since the Battle of Isin, Alcinor had become the most famous and skilled of all the builders in Akkad. He’d even surpassed his father, Corio, who had built the great wall that saved the City – it was still a village back then – from the first barbarian invasion by the Alur Meriki.
Both father and his apprentice son had learned much about the construction of large and complicated structures from that enterprise. Afterwards, Alcinor helped design and build Akkad’s newest walls, gates, towers, and fortifications. In so doing, he showed such skill that he soon earned an even greater accolade than any his father ever received.
In the ensuing years, Akkad’s other builders and master craftsmen used a new title to describe him – Engineer. The word came to mean someone who understood not only how to build structures, but who also delved into the study of all materials, and understood how they worked together.
Over the years, Trella had observed with interest as Alcinor developed more efficient ways to utilize wood, stone, and even the omnipresent mud bricks. He had already discovered several new techniques that permitted the building of higher and stronger structures, and had created standards of measurements now used by almost all the builders in the land. Even more important, Alcinor possessed a special skill that allowed him to imagine something new, and transform that mental picture into a physical reality.
Alcinor lifted his eyes, and put aside any misgivings. “Rather than waste men trying to defend the Jkarian Pass, I think we should close it.”
Eskkar’s mouth opened in surprise, and even Trella seemed at a loss for words.
After Alcinor’s words were spoken, his voice grew more confident. “There is a particular place, just short of the highest point on the western slope, where I believe I can bring down enough of the surrounding cliffs, part of the mountain, really, to close the Pass once and for all.”
Eskkar leaned forward with interest. “What do you mean by close it? A rock slide won’t stop an army for long. With so many men and horses, they could soon clear any blockage.”
“If I can bring down the cliff, it will be much more than a mere landslide. The Jkarian Pass will be choked with large chunks of the mountain itself. No horse, cart, or wagon could climb over such an obstacle. Men with the proper tools and supply animals might be able to clear the debris, but it would take months, perhaps half a year. An army on the move would have none of those things. Of course I will need to return, to study the site more closely, confirm my estimates, and make sure there is not any way to get around the obstacle.”
“And you believe you can seal the Pass long enough to halt the Elamites?” Trella asked the question, but her husband surprised her by answering it.
“When young Master Builder Alcinor claimed he could destroy an entire city, I didn’t really think it could be done, not until I saw the channel dug and the river’s water poised to flow. So now, if he says he can move a mountain to close the Pass, I believe him.”
“Then Akkad’s finest Engineer,” Trella said, “needs only to tell us what he requires to accomplish this feat, and we will supply it.”
Alcinor took a deep breath. “It won’t be easy. I’ll need plenty of men, skilled stone workers. The work will be dangerous, and it is likely that some will be injured or die. Also, I will need a large number of the great logs from the northern steppes. I would have to dispatch Jahiri, my senior apprentice, at once, to purchase exactly what we require, then float the logs down the Tigris. And I must have a large force of laborers and pack animals to transport everything back to the Pass.”
“And soldiers to guard you and your equipment,” Eskkar said. “Well, they can help carry your supplies.”
“All this will cost a great deal,” Alcinor said.
“Whatever it costs,” Trella answered, “will be far less than what it takes to feed and equip three thousand men in the field. You will have whatever is necessary.”
“Then I’ll dispatch Jahiri to the north as soon as possible. He will need several boats, plenty of gold, and an escort to protect both him and the logs.”
“I can have soldiers ready for you within a few days.” Eskkar’s voice now sounded confident, the way it always did at the prospect of action. “Commander Draelin is eager for a new assignment, and he has dealt with the northern tribesmen before. Yavtar can provide however many fighting boats and transport vessels you need.”
“How much gold will you require?” Trella knew the practical details of the operation would fall on her and her clerks.
Alcinor hesitated. “I’m not sure. The usual time of year to purchase the great logs has passed. The tribesmen may want more than their customary demands.”
None of the trees, mostly date palm and willows, that grew in the Land Between the Rivers, possessed the size and strength of timber taken from the northern lands. Nor did the local trees grow as straight and tall as the northern oaks. Akkad’s gates were constructed from such timber floated down the Tigris, as were the beams that supported the upper chamber of Eskkar’s house where the three now sat.
“You will have more than enough.” Trella turned to her husband. “One of my clerks can carry the gold and go with Jahiri. He will need to be protected and guarded as well.”
“Draelin will see to it,” Eskkar said.
“Then as soon as you can provide an escort,” Alcinor said, “I must return to the Jkarian Pass. I’ll stay five or six days at the site, to study the cliffs. As soon as I am certain, one way or
the other, I’ll come back.”
Trella reached out and touched Alcinor’s arm. “This is important, Alcinor, even more than you know. Make sure you have everything you require. The Elamites must not be allowed through the Jkarian Pass. We will be stretched thin here at Akkad, and need every soldier we can find.”
Eskkar laughed. “When he built the ditch at Isin, I complained about all the tools and men he demanded. Now, if Alcinor says he can move a mountain to block our enemies, then I believe he will do it. Trella and I will ensure you have everything you demand.”
“I’ll use all my skills to make certain the mountain comes down.”
“And no one must know what you intend,” Trella cautioned. “Your plan must remain a secret for as long as possible.”
“Only Jahiri knows, and Corio, my father.”
Trella nodded in satisfaction. “No man has ever moved a mountain before,” she said. “But if anyone can do it, it will be Akkad’s first and foremost Engineer.”
Chapter 5
The Palace of Grand Commander Chaiyanar, in the city of Sushan . . .
General Jedidia paced back and forth in the narrow confines of the Palace’s anteroom. Only a single window provided an occasional breeze, which did little to dispel the stifling heat. He felt the sweat dripping from his face and armpits, adding to the odor of men in close quarters. Not a pitcher of water, no platter of dates, not even cloths to wipe away the perspiration. Nevertheless, neither Jedidia nor the chamber’s other four occupants dared to complain, as they awaited the summons from King Shirudukh to attend his presence.
Jedidia had arrived at well before the requested time of midday, but as usual, King Shirudukh preferred to keep his visitors waiting. Noon had come and gone, and now, according to the sun, the middle of the afternoon would soon be upon them.
Jedidia recognized the deliberate insult. King Shirudukh knew the interminable waiting would grate upon the nerves of his generals, and increase any tendency they might have to say something foolish. Though General Jedidia understood the tactic, he still hated its effectiveness.
King Shirudukh, ruler of the Land of Elam and all its subjects, had arrived in Sushan ten days ago. Naturally he had taken over the quarters of Grand Commander Chaiyanar, who ruled the city as Shirudukh’s satrap. Chaiyanar’s waiting room, such as it was, contained no chairs, not even an un-cushioned bench or two.
Grand Commander Chaiyanar had no concern for either the comfort or patience of his guests, no matter who they might be or how long they had to wait. Now visitors to the King had to suffer in the same fashion as any of Sushan’s merchants appealing for some favor, no matter how distinguished they might be.
General Jedidia, tall and dark, resembled many of his battle hardened soldiers, most of whom came from Elam’s northern lands. A hook nose jutted arrogantly from beneath deep set brown eyes, and black hair tinged with gray half-concealed a wide brow. A thick beard covered his chin and reached well onto his muscular chest.
A fighting man, Jedidia had earned the respect of the men he commanded even as he rose to the rank of general. About to enter his thirty-eighth season, he cared little for the soft luxuries both King Shirudukh and Grand Commander Chaiyanar favored. Jedidia had known more than his share of pain and discomfort over the years.
Today, however, Jedidia felt his temper rising. Four years ago, in a battle near the Indus River, his horse had taken a wound. Mad with pain, the animal had thrown its rider. Jedidia’s left knee had struck a rock when he tumbled to the earth. Since that day, the knee often gave him trouble, especially when he had to remain on his feet for long periods. His prolonged standing had aggravated the injury, and soon Jedidia would face the humiliating need to ask for a chair.
One of the other occupants, Lord Modran, had no such difficulty. Lean and wiry, the commanding general of the largest contingent of Elamite’s forces appeared unaffected by King Shirudukh’s decision to keep two of his senior generals waiting. As if to annoy Jedidia even more, Modran had scarcely moved since they first entered the chamber.
Jedidia hated Modran with a fierce intensity that probably matched Modran’s feelings toward Jedidia. Both men sought the prestige and power that came with leading the majority of soldiers under the King. Jedidia knew that he was far more capable than Modran, but for years Modran had remained Shirudukh’s favorite, and he commanded nearly twenty thousand soldiers spread across the heart of Elam.
Grand Commander Chaiyanar, the least experienced of King Shirudukh’s three generals, already attended on the King. Since this palace in Sushan belonged, of course under the King’s authority, to Chaiyanar, Shirudukh had graciously permitted the Grand Commander to join him ahead of the others. No doubt Chaiyanar and the King had dined well, lounging on their respective couches, and enjoying the ministrations of the countless young slave girls who accompanied King Shirudukh wherever he traveled.
Jedidia gave scarcely a thought to the three other men also summoned to today’s audience. Soft city dwellers, they, too, showed signs of discomfort. Traders and merchants, they formed part of the Council that helped advise the King on matters of trade and policy. Though men of wealth, Jedidia considered them insignificant minions with no power or authority. Likely neither Shirudukh nor Chaiyanar ever bothered to heed their words. Jedidia doubted if any of them knew how to hold a sword.
The oldest, Shesh-kala, had well over fifty seasons. He owned most of the large tracts of fertile land that surrounded the city of Sushan. Though he might be a man of enormous wealth, he clearly suffered from a bad back. He clutched the arm of the youngest advisor, a trader named Aram-Kitchu, still a man in the prime of life.
The third man, Dajii, also traded up and down the River Karum, but he specialized in slaves, not goods. In fact, Dajii and his agents would be accompanying the invasion armies into the Land Between the Rivers, to begin the process of breaking and transporting vast numbers of new slaves into the lands of Elam.
The door to the chamber opened, and a messenger bowed to those waiting. “King Shirudukh regrets keeping you waiting. He is ready to receive you now. Please follow me.”
Jedidia forced a smile to his lips, clenching his teeth against the growing pain in his knee and refusing to show the slightest sign of weakness or discomfort. Any such display would soon have Modran and Chaiyanar whispering in the King’s ear that General Jedidia was unwell, perhaps not fit for the coming campaign.
Everyone in the room had straightened up when the door opened. Lord Modran moved first, falling in behind the messenger, and Jedidia followed. The three advisors, as befitting their lack of station, trailed the two generals.
The little procession didn’t have far to travel. Down a long corridor, around a corner, then through a doorway guarded by two soldiers and into the Palace’s main chamber. A raised dais at the far end normally held the throne-like chair that Chaiyanar preferred. Today that platform stood empty. Just in front, however, three couches of different sizes rested, all occupied. The largest held King Shirudukh. Grand Commander Chaiyanar reclined on the second, and another man sat upright on the third.
Jedidia needed a moment to recall the third man’s name – Meweldi – one of Shirudukh’s High Commanders. Jedidia glance took in the King’s personal guards, who lined the walls. Two stood behind Shirudukh’s couch, their hard eyes examining the latest arrivals. Jedidia knew they would kill anyone, even a general, who showed the slightest sign of hostility. And the soldiers lining the walls would be only a step behind them.
Jedidia counted twelve guards, and every one a member of the Immortals. An elite force of battle-tested veterans who fought only for King Shirudukh, the Immortals performed the dual role of personal household guards to the King, and the primary instrument of his power. They numbered exactly five thousand, and were the best and most loyal fighters in Elam.
By firm custom, whenever one Immortal was killed, seriously wounded or fell ill, he was immediately replaced with a new recruit, thus maintaining the number and cohesion o
f the Five Thousand. Every soldier considered it an honor to enter the Immortal’s ranks.
“Ah, Lord Modran, General Jedidia! The time for our final preparations has come, and your presence is most welcome.” Shirudukh didn’t waste his breath on greeting his advisors.
Jedidia bowed low, and held himself in that position until Lord Modran straightened up. Both men uttered the usual flattering words that kept the King in a pleasant mood. But Jedidia had already noticed the hint of a smile on Grand Commander Chaiyanar’s face. Something was in the wind, something that greatly pleased Chaiyanar. With a sinking feeling in his chest, Jedidia guessed that bad news was coming.
“My three favorite and loyal generals,” Shirudukh went on, “the last decisions on troops and dispositions have been made. Commander Meweldi will provide the information.”
Meweldi stood and waved his hand toward the guards. Two of them picked up a table and carried it to the center of the room. A large map rested atop its surface.
“The invasion of the Land Between the Rivers will begin in a few months,” Meweldi began. “Grand Commander Chaiyanar will take fifteen thousand men and advance along the coast of the Great Sea, to invest and capture the city of Sumer from the south. He will be supported by every ship that can transport a cargo.”
“It will be a great honor to capture the city of Sumer, and present it as a gift to My King.” Chaiyanar’s oily words garnered a smile from Shirudukh.
Jedidia noted that Meweldi showed no irritation at the interruption. Chaiyanar clearly remained in good standing with the King.
“At the same time, Lord Modran will lead a mixed force of thirty thousand men through the Dellen Pass, to capture the city of Akkad, where we expect the most resistance. And so we will hurl our largest army and finest troops at its walls. Two thousand Immortals will be among that force.”
“A great honor, my King.” Modran’s words sounded even more simpering that Chaiyanar’s.