The Concubine's Son

by H A CULLEY

  ‘We need to send messengers to the governors of Sippar and Borsippa then, to tell them what we intend?’ one of the other councillors suggested.

  ‘A messenger might not be enough. For all we know the governors there may have already sided with my brother. No, I must go myself.’

  The others were horrified. ‘Suppose they have already declared for Zuuthusu. They would arrest you or even kill you out of hand,’ Sin-Bel-Aplim pointed out.

  ‘Then Kish would be attacked for having supported you,’ a worried councillor added.

  ‘It has to be done and done quickly. With any luck they may not yet have heard about the events at Babylon.’

  ‘They will have done by the time you can get there with an escort of soldiers, and you can’t go without one.’

  ‘I agree. But not infantry; we will use camels as well as chariots. At dawn tomorrow I’ll head for Borsippa as it’s the closest. With their army and that of Kish we should have enough to topple Zuuthusu. Sippar is too far away for me to reach quickly and I have a feeling that speed is of the essence now.’

  The others were surprised. Although camels had been introduced into the area from the Bedouin a few hundred years before, they were only used for messengers and to transport goods. They had never been used militarily.

  ‘How many chariots and camels do you have?’

  Sin-Bel-Aplim decided that Hammurabi was being serious. ‘I’m not sure. Perhaps ten two-wheeled chariots and the same number of four-wheeled ones. As to camels, we can probably muster fifty or so.’

  ‘Excellent,’ Hammurabi smiled. ‘It will only take a day to get to Borsippa but we had better take food for a week, enough water skins and, of course, tents. Find some militia who can ride a camel and tell them to take bows and daggers with them. Pack spare shields and spears on the chariots. In the meantime, Sin-Bel-Aplim, I want you to come with me but get someone you trust to mobilise the rest of the militia and the city watch and start them marching towards Babylon. We’ll meet them three miles south of the city in five days’ time’.

  ~#~

  Borsippa sat on the east bank of the Euphrates, between the river and a lake to the west of the city. Although it would have been quicker to approach the north gate on the direct road from Kish, Hammurabi elected to skirt the lake to the south so as to avoid the road from Babylon, which lay a mere eleven miles to the north.

  The two sentries were half asleep in the small shade afforded by the awning above the south gate when they heard a bell sound the alarm. Someone more alert further along the city wall had seen the strange column coming across the plain from the direction of the lake. The twenty chariots in the lead were unremarkably, except that so many gathered together was usually accompanied by infantry. However, in this case there appeared to be just a small escort of archers mounted on camels. Several of the larger chariots flew the blue banners of Babylon.

  Hunzuu, the governor of Borsippa, had been a companion of Sin-Muballit, like Sin-Bel-Aplim, and he had grieved when a messenger had brought him the news of the king’s death the previous day. Unlike the messenger sent by Isiratuu to Sin-Bel-Aplim at Kish, this one had been sent by Zuuthusu with a highly doctored account of events in Babylon. The delay in sending news of the king’s death was due to the unrest in Babylon, which had taken Zuuthusu a few days to put down. In the account carried by the messenger, Hammurabi was blamed for the murder of his father and a price was offered for his capture. The arrival of the supposed fugitive with two hundred soldiers in front of the gates of Borsippa was therefore more than a little unexpected.

  After a short delay the governor rode out in a two-wheeled chariot followed by thirty soldiers of the city watch on foot. More soldiers with bows appeared on the city walls and the governor halted within range of them, got down from his chariot and waited patiently under an umbrella held by a slave for someone from the new arrivals to approach him.

  Hammurabi was no fool and he held his shield in front of him as he ordered his chariot to advance to with hailing distance of the governor. A second chariot bearing Sin-Bel-Aplim followed him and drew alongside when Hammurabi stopped. Hunzuu was astounded to see Sin-Bel-Aplim with the king’s murderer and said so.

  ‘Don’t be a complete fool, Hunzuu. Hammurabi didn’t murder his father; it was Zuuthusu.’

  ‘And I suppose he told you that did he?’ sneered the other governor.

  ‘No, it was a messenger from Isiratuu. It has also been corroborated by a member of the palace guard. Do you want to hear from him if you don’t believe me?’

  ‘No, of course I believe you,’ Hunzuu replied testily. ‘I consider Zuuthusu to be a more credible murderer in any case. I apologise, Hammurabi.’ He nodded towards the boy standing patiently in the other chariot. ‘It’s too hot to stand here chatting. You had better come up to my house and explain what you are doing here.’ He spoke to the officer commanding the city watch briefly. ‘My captain will show your men where to camp.’

  Hunzuu seemed more than a little surprised when Sin-Bel-Aplim bowed and allowed Hammurabi to precede him into the governor’s house. Bashaa followed them inside. When they were seated in the shade of a tree in the courtyard and a boy had brought them refreshments, Hammurabi spoke first.

  ‘Hunzuu, thank you for receiving us. As Sin-Bel-Aplim has explained, my brother murdered our father and has seized the throne of Babylon. I was forced to flee to Kish and the council there has recognised me as my father’s heir. We are now about to march on Babylon, arrest my brother and put him on trial for murder.’ He paused to allow all he had said to sink in. ‘It is my fervent wish that you and the army of Borsippa will join us. I realise that this is something that will need to be put to the city council, but I need your support first. Do I have it?’

  Hunzuu shifted uncomfortably on his cushioned seat. ‘May I speak in private to Sin-Bel-Aplim a moment?’

  Hammurabi gave the governor a long hard stare before he nodded. The two governors, one tall and slim and the other rotund and short, moved over to a corner of the courtyard and a whispered and lengthy discussion ensued. Phrases like ‘only a boy’ and ‘better to stay out of it’ drifted across to where he waited. After a while he heard Sin-Bel-Aplim recite the three motions that he had put to the council in Kish and then ask his fellow governor which one he would have opted for. Shortly after that the two returned. Hunzuu was all smiles and full of deference to Hammurabi. The boy decided that he couldn’t stand the odious little man. He would have to be replaced as soon as he was secure on his throne. But for now he returned his smiles as they set off for the council chamber.

  The one difference between the discussions at Kish and Borsippa was that no one living that close to Babylon mentioned succession. It was a straight choice between the two brothers with Hammurabi an almost unanimous choice when it came to a vote.

  Two days later five thousand soldiers from the two cities advanced on Babylon; a city of fifty thousand people which could normally field an army of over eight thousand.

  ~#~

  In the middle of the night Zuuthusu sat in the throne room chewing his finger nails. The room itself was quite large but it was far from grand. Like the rest of the palace, the walls were built of mud bricks infilling a timber frame and then whitewashed. The roof consisted of a timber frame supported on mud brick columns and a wooden wall plate. Timber battens were then laid onto the frame, into which large clay tiles were fastened by copper nails. The floor itself was paved in stone laid on earth. These had moved with time and now presented an uneven surface which had been known to trip up the unwary.

  It had all seemed so simple when he had hatched the plot to murder his father and replace him as king. He had been well aware that that Nutesh was an unprincipled man and he had readily agreed to betray Sin-Muballit for a pouch of gold and the promise of more to come. The captain of the palace guard had quietly sounded out those of his men he trusted to be loyal to him and placed the most reliable of these on guard duty in the palace on the night of the
murder. His two mistakes were not to seize Hammurabi first and to put men loyal to him on guard outside the women’s quarters. He had also been in such a rush to send a messenger to Kish that he had picked the first man he saw to give it to, not remembering in the heat of the moment that Bashaa was a friend of Hammurabi.

  The new king had now promoted Nutesh to commander of Babylon’s army and made his deputy, Uhar, captain of the palace guards. The two men stood respectfully in front of Zuuthusu together with the man who had taken over from Isiratuu as leader of the city council. The one other man in the room was Ibbi-Adad, the chief minister of Babylon.

  The latter had served Sin-Muballit as chief minister, but he seemed to have had no problems in changing his allegiance to the new king. No doubt he would be equally happy to serve Hammurabi, if he succeeding in beating him in the coming battle. Perhaps he should rid himself of such a chameleon? He dwelt on the idea for a moment before deciding he had weightier matters to worry about just now.

  ‘How far away is my wretched brother and his rabble of an army?’

  Nutesh shifted his weight uneasily from one foot to the other before replying. ‘They have camped five miles south of here, lord king. They will be here mid-morning tomorrow if they break camp at dawn.’ Nutesh was tempted to go on to say that the enemy appeared to be far from a rabble; they were well organised and well equipped. However, he decided that to say so would merely invite Zuuthusu to heap more scorn and invective on his head.

  ‘And how many militia can we field?’

  ‘In theory, we have eight thousand citizens under arms who are trained to fight as infantry.’

  ‘What do you mean “in theory”?’

  ‘Many of them are amongst those who rioted and so I suspect their loyalty to you. We have purged the city watch and so I am confident of their allegiance but they only number three hundred.’ His voiced tailed away under the king’s glare.

  ‘I am their king and they will fight for me or die if they refuse. Get them paraded at dawn and offer them the choice.’

  ‘Yes, my lord,’ agreed the unhappy Nutesh.

  ‘How many men have we managed to recruit into the new palace guard?’ Zuuthusu now turned his unnerving stare on Uhar, who swallowed nervously.

  ‘I have managed to restore the guard to its original size of fifty, but some of them are recruits who need much more training.’ The truth was that only twenty of the old guard had agreed to serve the new king so the majority were youths who had never held a spear before, or members of the city watch of doubtful reliability, who had been only too willing to transfer for more pay.

  Zuuthusu grunted in contempt. ‘Well what are you doing here then, get them out of bed and get them training tonight; if they can’t fight properly by tomorrow, they’ll die.’ Uhar scuttled from the room, glad to get away. He would have to consider his options now. Unfortunately he didn’t think Hammurabi would welcome him with open arms if he decided to change sides at this stage. After all, he was the one who had held Sin-Muballit down whilst Zuuthusu plunged the dagger into his chest.

  ~#~

  The trap door opened again and Isiratuu’s wife handed down bread and cheese for breakfast, then exchanged the full slop bucket for an empty one before the excited face of Abi-Maras appeared beside her.

  ‘Have you heard?’ For a moment Ashlatum was tempted to ask sarcastically how they were meant to hear any news stuck in a hole in the ground. ‘Your son is marching on Babylon with an army.’ The boy was so excited that he forgot to whisper. ‘Nutesh has ordered the militia to muster but most of them are unwilling to fight for Zuuthusu, especially against Hammurabi.’ He rushed off before anyone else could say anything.

  Ashlatum was stunned by this news. ‘I knew my son was clever but I don’t understand how a boy of his age could have raised an army? Sin-Muballit always felt that he showed promise as an administrator but he was worried that he was too diffident and unsure of himself to become a good leader.’

  ‘Perhaps it’s just that quality of modesty and self-depreciation that endears him to the people?’ the other woman suggested. ‘Zuuthusu is so full of his own importance that those who have any self-respect detest him, and that was before he committed patricide. He’s only popular with the self-seekers, the vain and the venal; but there are enough of those in Babylon,’ she sniffed. She looked behind her in alarm as the outside door slammed shut.

  ‘Now where’s that son of mine going?’

  Abi-Maras had collected his two younger brothers and sought out ten of his friends before looking for a safe place in which to explain his plan. The eldest of the motley group was sixteen summers and the youngest was his twelve year old brother. As all the men between seventeen and thirty five had been called to the muster, the bronze-smith’s forge was deserted; the boys climbed over the fence and clustered around their leader.

  ‘What do you have in mind, then?’ one of the boys wanted to know as soon as the last of the group had jumped down to join them.

  ‘All the palace guard will be at the muster in the square by the temple of Marduk. Now is our chance to free our fathers.’

  ‘But we don’t know where they are being held,’ one of the other boys objected.

  ‘I’ve thought of that. We find the women’s quarters and ask them. They must know.’

  ‘But to do that we would have to enter their quarters and that’s punishable by death.’

  ‘Hammurabi told me once that their windows open out onto a colonnade. We can ask them through the windows. We don’t have to go in, or even look in.’

  ‘That’s a shame. I bet it’s a sight worth seeing,’ another boy suggested to general sniggering.

  ‘Don’t be so puerile. Don’t you want to rescue your fathers? Well then; let’s find a place we can climb over the palace wall.’

  Ten minutes later the boys found an empty cart and pushed it against a part of the wall that was only twelve feet high. Two of the bigger boys stood on the cart and pushed the others up so that they could haul themselves up onto the top of the wall. Once there, they gingerly lowered themselves down the other side and dropped the last seven feet. Once two boys were safely over they managed to catch the rest. The two boys who had done the lifting remained on the city side of the wall to keep watch.

  The eleven boys split up to search for the women’s quarters but, as soon as the three who had been sent towards the main part of the palace rounded the corner, they saw the grating in the middle of the open area in front of the main gate. Two sentries had been left behind to guard both the prisoners and the gate, but they were on top of the wall trying to make out what was happening near the temple. Their view of the muster was blocked by buildings but they had a good view of the top of the ziggurat on the other side of the square from where Zuuthusu was addressing the army.

  One boy went off to find the rest and the other two cautiously made their way towards the grating. The smell that assailed their noses when they got near to the grating was nauseating: a mixture of faeces, urine, sweat and bodies decomposing in the heat.

  Trying to ignore the stench they peered down at the faces staring up at them. Their own fathers were presumably down there but, if they were, they were unrecognisable under the matted hair and filth. They cautiously removed the pegs that secured the grating and lifted it to one side; but, having done so, there was no way of getting the prisoners out of the hole.

  Isiratuu was astonished to see the two boys peering down at him. One or two of his companions started to call out in excitement until he kicked them hard and told them in a harsh whisper to shut up. The thirty two who were still alive managed to stand up, gently easing their cramped and wasted limbs. The remaining eight were either dead or very close to it.

  ‘Go and see if you can find a ladder,’ he whispered hoarsely and the two boys nodded before disappearing.

  Five minutes later they were back with a ladder they had found in a part of the palace that was being repaired and the boys lowered it into the pit. Isiratuu w
ent to climb out but found he didn’t have the strength to get beyond the first two rungs. Then Abi-Maras and several other boys came down to help him up by pushing and pulling him. Two minutes later he lay on the ground beside the pit trying to get his breath back.

  It was unfortunate that at that moment something alerted one of sentries and he turned round to look behind him. At first he didn’t believe his eyes. Several boys were clustered around the open pit and one old man lay on the ground whilst another was being helped out to join him. With a cry he picked up his spear and shield and ran towards the open staircase that led down from the parapet above the gate, his companion close behind him.

  Several of the boys had thought to bring slingshots with them and they now started to hurl stones at the approaching guards. One lucky shot struck the bronze helmet worn by the leading sentry, denting it and causing him to stagger, but most did no damage, striking the big wooden and wicker shields. Then another stone flew between the top of the shield and the rim of the helmet to strike the leading soldier in his eye, killing him instantly. The man behind him hesitated; he was one of youths recruited recently and his training hadn’t yet covered defence against missiles. He threw down his spear and shield in a panic and ran towards the gate.

  He never reached it. The boys’ blood was up and they wanted revenge for the conditions in which their fathers had been held. A hail of stones hit the unfortunate guard: they struck the back of his helmet, his unprotected back and his limbs. He fell to the ground with a broken leg and several other broken bones. Isiratuu’s middle son picked up the discarded spear and calmly walked over to the prone youth lying in agony face down in the dust. Lifting the spear high, the boy thrust its bronze point with all the force a fourteen year old could muster into the base of his neck. The boy let go of the spear and fell to his knees beside the body, shaking and sobbing, as the blood seeped out of it into the ground.