by H A CULLEY
Stealth was of the essence but so was time: time to escape before the twenty caravan guards realised that they had an assassin in their midst. It would have probably gone alright if Arishaka hadn’t insisted on taking back proof of Zuuthusu’s death to Hammurabi in the form of their half-brother’s decapitated head.
Arishaka and two of his men crept though the slumbering camp in the early hours of the morning following the two caravan boys. Once the lads had pointed out the two men and the two onagers, they headed back quietly to get the camels ready for a swift departure. The three Babylonians positioned themselves beside the sleeping men and, at a nod from Arishaka, they put their hands over their mouths and cut their throats at the same time. The three never had a chance and, before they knew what was happening, they were dead.
At that moment one of the men sleeping nearby woke up and peered over at them. He was still half asleep but he suddenly realised with a start that someone was sawing his dagger to and fro across the neck of a man lying on the ground.
‘Hey, what are you doing?’ It was a stupid question because, even in the soft moonlight, it was patently obvious that Arishaka was trying to remove someone’s head, but it served its purpose of alerting those asleep nearby.
With a final hack of his bronze blade the head parted company with the dead man’s body and the three Babylonians fled towards where the boys and the other guards were getting the camels to their feet. Luckily for Arishaka, it took the caravan guards a minute or so for them to grasp the situation and grab their weapons. By this time the Babylonians were a hundred yards away and rapidly melting into the dusk of the surrounding terrain. So it was unfortunate that a lucky arrow, fired more in frustration than anything else, hit one of the camel boys in the head; its bronze tip punching through the boy’s soft skull into his brain and killing him instantly.
Arishaka was incensed at losing the brave lad who had been the first to find the two men with the onagers and gave the order to return fire. The camels wheeled into line and four arrows flew back towards the loose formation of camel guards, followed a few seconds later by a second volley. Two the guards were hit and the rest scattered. Arishaka ordered his driver to make his camel kneel so he could leap down and gather up the boy’s body. A few second later they had disappeared back into the darkness.
The incident was a complete mystery to the merchants in the caravan. After burying the dead, including the headless corpse, they set off again towards Samara as fast as they could. They were anxious to reach the safety of the town before anything else happened. Their anxiety was thoroughly justified.
At daybreak Arishaka woke up and picked up the head of the man who had been disguised as a merchant. To his chagrin he noticed that, even in its bloody and dirty state, it was obvious that there was no birthmark near its left eye, or anywhere else come to that. He cursed violently and threw the head down. It seemed that the coincidence of the two men with two onagers was just that: a coincidence.
After burying the dead camel boy and the head in separate graves, Arishaka led his men in pursuit of the caravan. He had made a serious mistake and the only way of preventing word reaching Sumeria, and Zuuthusu if he was there, was to wipe out the caravan.
It wasn’t something that the young Babylonian relished doing but he couldn’t see an alternative. Hammurabi was relying on him to eliminate Zuuthusu once and for all and he was determined not to let his elder brother down.
As they chased after the caravan they came to the previous night’s campsite. Arishaka gave the five freshly dug mounds barely a glance as he rode past but two minutes later he suddenly had a flash of inspiration. Perhaps the three men and the two onagers hadn’t been a coincidence after all. Ten minutes later the freshly interred bodies had been unearthed and Arishaka gave a little cry of triumph when he saw the red birthmark by the left eye of the man who had pretended to be a guard.
‘My half-brother was even more devious that I thought.’ The relieved man told his second-in-command. ‘Cut off his head and put it in a basket of spices to take back to the king; then bury the bodies again.’
‘What about the caravan, my lord?’
‘Now that Zuuthusu is dead, they don’t matter anymore. To tell you the truth, I am somewhat relieved at not having to slaughter them, even if they are Elamites.’
Chapter Twelve – Tragedy Strikes – 1776 BCE
Early in the New Year Hammurabi went to Sippar to meet Yasmah-Addu to try and talk some sense in him. The younger son of the Assyrian king was not only a fool, he was a gutless fool. Twice the people of Mari had rebelled against him and twice Hammurabi had to help him put down the rebellion. Now the situation was getting out of control again; no doubt stoked up by Zimri Lim and his brother-in-law, the king of Yamhad, Yarim-Lim, who was also Hammurabi’s ally.
It was an impossible situation. The King of Babylon didn’t want to alienate Assyria, the most powerful of his neighbours to the north, but he was astute enough to realise that neither of Shamshi-Adad’s sons was strong enough to hold Assyria together once their father died; and the old king was now a shadow of the man he had been in his prime.
Yasmah-Addu’s solution to the antipathy of his people towards his rule was to play the tyrant, instituting a rule of terror. Hammurabi felt that this was typical of a weak ruler and despised the man even more as a result. He returned to his chambers after another frustrating meeting with Yasmah-Addu wondering if the time had come to stop trying to cultivate both him and Zimri-Lim. The latter was the probable future King of Mari once the power of Assyria was on the wane and so sooner or later he would have to back his bid for the throne.
He kissed Adiar and relaxed by playing with his sons for half-an-hour. Samsu-Iluna was now ten and Mutu-Namaha was six. Samuditana, the eldest, was thirteen and had left his mother’s quarters some time ago to start his training as Hammurabi’s heir. His father was more than a little concerned about the boy. He was arrogant and tended to think about his rights and privileges instead of his duty to his people. He was also far from clever. As the son of two highly intelligent people this came as something of a surprise and Hammurabi was becoming increasingly concerned about him as his eventual successor. However, as he was still only thirty-one, there was plenty of time yet before Samuditana could expect to become king.
On the other hand, Arishaka had gone from strength to strength. Tarhunda had retired as commander of the Babylonian army the previous year and Hammurabi had given his faithful friend an estate on the Euphrates to the south of Babylon, near the border with Bilbat, a city-state in the Sumerian confederation. Although relations with Rim-Sim, the King of Sumeria, were reasonably good, Hammurabi knew that the growing power and influence of Babylon would eventually bring them into contention for the leadership of Mesopotamia. Having Tarhunda keeping an eye on the border could be useful.
Arishaka had replaced him as army commander; he was proving both resourceful and an excellent leader of men. Hammurabi had now forgotten that he had ever doubted his brother’s loyalty and couldn’t imagine how he could have managed without his support and flair. As the man who had finally rid Babylon of the problem of Zuuthusu, he was a hero in the eyes of the people and of the army. The young man never let this go to his head, instead utilising his reputation to inspire and motivate his soldiers.
After play wrestling with his sons under the fond gaze of their mother, Hammurabi went and sat by her on the window seat to get his breath back. Adiar was now nearly thirty and had changed from a beautiful young girl into a handsome woman. Having given birth to four children, her figure had filled out and she had lost the coltish look that had first so attracted her husband, but their love had grown from their initial all-consuming passion to a more mature relationship. Each respected each other’s mind, though they still disagreed and had the occasional violent argument. Their passionate love for each other had developed into a much deeper relationship where care and friendship were more important than physical sex. Each regarded themselves as incomplete wi
thout their partner.
Adiar put her hand on her husband’s arm. ‘I take it that you are no nearer a solution to the problem of Mari?’
‘No, but I am close to deciding that the future lies in a closer alliance with Zimri-Lim. That will mean abandoning Yasmah-Addu, but I need to do that in a way that isn’t too obvious. Whilst the Lion of Assyria lives I don’t want an open breach.’ Hammurabi was referring to the term by which Shamshi-Adad was often known.
‘Perhaps we should send a secret embassy to Yamhad to assure Zimri-Lim of our support for his claim to the throne of Mari once Shamshi-Adad dies?’ She suggested. ‘You need say nothing to Yasmah-Addu, but start to distance yourself without causing an open rift.’
‘Yes, I’m sure you’re right. It’s just a question of timing; and picking the right man as ambassador.’
‘Why a man? What about Ashlatum? You don’t have to worry about her loyalty or discretion. I can’t think of anyone more suited to the role.’
Hammurabi gave his wife a startled look. It was difficult to believe that the two women had once detested each other. As always, he gave her suggestion serious consideration. It was unheard of for the role of emissary to be conducted by a woman. He knew that Adiar was right in thinking that his mother was the ideal person, apart from her sex. Because of that he was dubious about how she might be received. The other problem was that she would stand out as a woman travelling without a husband. Then he had an idea.
‘She would have to travel through Mari and onto Syria as the companion of a suitable male relation to avoid exciting attention.’ He thought for a moment. ‘I know. She can be escorted by Samuditana. It’ll be good experience for the boy.’
‘Are you sure?’ Adiar looked dubious. Much as she loved her first born, she had no illusions about him and was worried about how conceited he was becoming. Giving him an important role like this was hardly likely to lessen his feeling of self-importance.
‘No, I’m not. But he will have his grandmother with him and so I hope she might be able to deflate the high opinion he has of himself in the weeks that they will have to spend together.’
‘Let’s hope so.’ But Adiar didn’t sound convinced.
A month later the embassy set out. Samuditana had been firmly told that, although he was nominally the leader of the group, he was only there to provide cover for Ashlatum, who was the real ambassador. The boy said that he understood but Hammurabi was uneasy about the ease with which he agreed to defer to his grandmother. One of the problems was that the boy was all too familiar with the exploits that his uncle, Arishaka, had undertaken at his age. Hammurabi suspected that he saw himself as cut from the same cloth and was therefore desperate to make a name of himself.
As he and Adiar watched the column leave from Sippar he just couldn’t rid himself of the sensation of impending doom that overcame him. He was tempted to recall the embassy, but the aging Mannui-Qipi had made the usual sacrifices in the temple to Marduk and had assured him that the omens indicated success for the mission; nevertheless, he would be glad when his mother and son returned home safely. Once the column of chariots, camels and horsemen was out of sight, he and Adiar made preparations to leave for Eshnunna to visit her younger brother the following day.
~#~
Samuditana was on a high. He had escaped his tutors and the stifling control of his parents, he had been entrusted with an important mission, and he was riding his favourite horse, accompanying the scouts leading the column. He pitied his grandmother riding a camel plodding along with the main body. Their escort consisted of six war chariots, twenty camels with archers and thirty horsemen. The latter were there to scout ahead and provide the rear and flank guards. There were another thirty camels to provide the baggage train, including a palatial tent for him and his grandmother’s use. The servants and slaves were on foot, which limited the speed at which the column could travel.
Adiar had worried that the size of the escort was too small but Hammurabi had pointed out to her that they were travelling through ostensibly friendly territory and he wanted to keep the mission low key. The official reason for the visits to both Mari and Aleppo in Yamhad was to introduce Samuditana as the crown prince of Babylon to their allies. To travel with a more substantial guard would have appeared odd.
At last the walls of Mari hove into view through the midday heat haze. At a distance it looked as if the city was floating on a sea of shimmering water. The haze faded as they got nearer until Samuditana could see the walls clearly. Unlike the walls of Babylon, which were made of clay bricks, Maris’ walls were constructed from a mixture of dried mud, animal dung and straw plastered onto a wicker and timber frame. This made them stronger but it made it difficult to increase the height of them later. At Babylon Hammurabi had strengthened the walls by adding several layers of bricks inside the original walls and then building them up so that they now stood thirty foot high. Mari’s walls were about half that height.
The approach road ran through farms beside the River Euphrates. The crops included flax, wheat, barley and cotton. A few farms grew root crops including leeks and there were a number of olive groves. However, Samuditana was surprised to note that, unlike in all of Babylonia, there were very few irrigation channels bringing water into the hinterland. His father had spent years getting canals and ditches dug so that the barren land to the east of the river could be turned into productive agricultural land.
When he was ten, Hammurabi had taken him and his mother to see a canal he was having dug to link the Tigris and the Euphrates at the narrowest point just to the south of Sippar. They rode along the eighteen mile long ditch to near Akshak where there was a large wooden dam keeping the water out of the ditch. Whilst they sat there a messenger arrived on a lathered horse to confirm that the dam at the far end had been breached.
The king nodded to the chief engineer and immediately his men started to pull on ropes and, as the first two were pulled out of place, the rest were pushed aside by the force of water and a torrent flowed into the ditch. It hadn’t gone very far when it met the water coming from the Euphrates end. For several minutes the water boiled and frothed until it settled down into a placid stream. Two months later irrigation ditches had been dug and the whole tract of land between the two rivers was ready for farming.
Samuditana looked at the Mari farms with derision and, riding up to Ashlatum’s camel, he called up to her.
‘Grandmother, see how ignorant these Marians are. They don’t even know how to irrigate their land properly.’ The boy’s voice dripped with scorn. Unfortunately, he had raised his voice to carry up to Ashlatum sitting on top of the camel and several of the farmers heard him. They muttered angrily to themselves and one of them mounted his donkey and followed the Babylonians towards the city.
That night a feast was laid on in honour of Samuditana’s visit. The boy’s face shone with pride at the attention being paid to him. Already a vain child, the occasion went to his head and he started treating Yasmah-Addu with a certain amount of disdain. He started by commenting on how much lower the walls were at Mari compared to Babylonian cities before going on to draw unfavourable comparisons between the royal palaces of Mari and Babylon. The sad thing was that Samuditana thought that he was making polite conversation.
The king had already been angered when told about his visitor’s comments on his way into the city and now his temper was steadily building inside him. If he ever forgot about his inadequacies as a ruler, his father, Shamshi-Adad, and his brother, Ishme-Dagan, kept writing to him to remind him of them. The last thing he wanted now was an arrogant little boy talking down to him.
Eventually he decided that he had endured enough.
‘You are a conceited little prig. What your father was thinking of sending you to me I can’t imagine. It certainly hasn’t improved relations between us; quite the reverse. If someone doesn’t remove you from my sight this instant I’ll be tempted to give you the thrashing you so richly deserve.’ The veins stood out on Yasmah-Addu
’s forehead and his face had gone puce.
After the startled and fearful boy was escorted to his chamber by his servants, Ashlatum started to apologise for her grandson but the king held up his hand.
‘Lady, nothing you could say could rectify matters. That boy needs a good thrashing to put him in his place.’
Ashlatum said nothing further but, before continuing with her meal, she glanced over to where the leader of the Mari City Council was sitting and smiled slightly at him. He came over to her and warmly welcomed her to Mari before putting a small piece of wood into her hand.
Later that evening Ashlatum slipped out of the royal palace after bribing the guards at one of the side gates and made her way to the council leader’s house, directions to which were on the wooden plaque he had given her. An hour later she returned the way she had come, her mission accomplished.
The next morning the cavalcade set off again, heading for Aleppo. Yasmah-Addu had the grace, and the good sense, to come and bid farewell to Ashlatum but he completely ignored Samuditana. The crestfallen little prince looked miserable and Ashlatum wondered if he had learned his lesson. However an hour out of Mari he was his normal bumptious self again, telling everyone what a dump Mari was.
Once they were out of sight of the city, Ashlatum gave one of the horsemen a message and he headed off towards Eshnunna.
~#~
‘You have a simple choice, brother,’ Adiar told Ibal-pi-El. ‘Either you join the confederation of city states led by my husband or you allow Elam to bully you into signing a treaty and become our enemy.’