by H A CULLEY
All too soon the evening was over and the Babylonians were taken back across the river to their camp. Mutu-Namaha tried to drive thoughts of Darya from his mind but he was only partially successful.
Now there was only Eridu, another port city further to the west along the coast; but first he had to cross the Euphrates. To save the major task of transporting his whole army over the river, which was half a mile wide at this point, he decided to sail to the city in boats borrowed from Darya’s father. He took two senior officers and an escort of fifty men and asked the high priest to accompany him. The latter had dropped the scornful attitude he displayed when he had first met Mutu-Namaha and was now on friendly terms with the surgeon-priests and the two diviners in the Babylonian army. He was hoping that the high priest could persuade the governor and the city council of Eridu to acknowledge Samsu-Iluna as king without needing a display of force to persuade them. However, just in case his tactic failed, he had sent to Larsa twenty five miles upstream for a fleet of boats so that his army could follow him to Eridu if necessary.
He needn’t have worried. The governor had recently died and so the decision lay in the hands of the city council. Mutu-Namaha and the high priest from Ur were made welcome, even if there was an undercurrent of anxiety, and both were invited to speak before the council. The high priest spoke first and contented himself with saying how well Ur had been treated by the Babylonians and confirmed that he now actually supported the change in government.
Mutu-Namaha rose, still undecided about what to say. He resolved to speak from the heart.
‘My father has transformed Babylonia, bringing justice for all free men and a strict code of laws so that everyone knows what is expected and what the penalties for transgression are. He has built up a strong army that has never been defeated so he is able to protect his people from oppression and conquest. His agricultural reforms have meant that there is always food for all and his kingdom is prosperous, especially the merchants.’
This last remark made many of the council chuckle and he felt the tension in the room ebbing away.
‘But he is a strong ruler and if he is betrayed his retribution is swift and terrible. That said, he is invariably fair and his decisions are only taken after very careful consideration. His son, my brother Samsu-Iluna and your new king, is of the same mould and he will treat you well if you respect him. You will be told what is expected of you and he won’t change his mind or levy unexpected taxes on a whim.’ Some had shuffled uncomfortably at the mention of Samsu-Iluna taking Rim-Sim’s throne but more had nodded approvingly at his last remark.
‘You now have a choice. To acknowledge Samsu-Iluna as your king or defy him and face the consequences.’ He sat down amidst a cacophony of voices raised in heated discussion. He was dismayed; he had spoken well and the conclusion had seemed inevitable. Then he realised what was bothering the council: he heard the name ‘Kutallu’ again and again.
He rose to his feet and waited for the noise to die down.
‘I said that you would be told what was expected of you and that the expectation would be fair. I have heard you mention Kutallu. The council there, and indeed the whole city, was told that they must surrender the city and they were given seven hours before nightfall to do so. Had they done what was demanded they would have been treated like Umma, Uruk, Ur and many other Sumerian cities; that is, allowed to continue life as before, but under a new ruler. They were also warned in the clearest of terms that the city would be sacked if they defied my father. They chose the latter course and paid the inevitable penalty. Hammurabi has always kept his word.’ He sat down again, this time in silence.
Gradually the hum of conversation resumed until eventually the chief elder rose to address Mutu-Namaha.
‘You are a brave young man to have come here virtually unprotected today. Such courage earns our respect and shows us what manner of men you Babylonians are. We have listened to what you have said and to what the high priest of Ur has also said.’ He nodded towards the latter, who inclined his head in acknowledgement. ‘We have decided to pledge our loyalty to King Samsu-Iluna, but we have one final question. If his son is King of Sumeria what control will King Hammurabi retain?’
Mutu-Namaha was well aware that his father would not be satisfied with Sumeria and had his eyes on the north next, but he couldn’t say anything about that.
‘I can best explain the relationship as being similar to that between the King of Elam and the King of Susa; except that Hammurabi’s government will be more efficient and the law will be identical throughout Babylonia and Sumeria.’
~#~
That night something happened that drove all thoughts of Darya from Mutu-Namaha’s mind. He and the high priest were invited to stay for a celebratory feast and the two were seated either side of the chief elder. Unlike elsewhere in Mesopotamia, women ate separately from the men, albeit in the same room. Immediately his eye was caught by a pretty girl sitting on the far side of the room. He kept stealing glances at her and she kept catching his eye and then looking demurely at the table. Once or twice he caught her looking at him as he flicked his eyes in her direction. To say he was intrigued was putting it mildly.
Perhaps the arranged marriage of his brother had been the spark that started him thinking of a wife for himself. He had concubines, of course, but they were little more than vessels to satisfy his basic sexual urges. He looked towards his parents as an example of how a wife could support her husband and felt that was what he wanted for himself. Until now, however, he hadn’t seen anyone who had set his pulse racing. This girl was different. Eventually he asked his host who she was. The chief elder looked surprised and then looked at the Babylonian prince in a new light.
‘That’s my eldest granddaughter, Beletsunu. She is fifteen and soon to be married to the son of one of my fellow elders, a man who owns a merchant fleet. Why lord? Does she interest you?’
Mutu-Namaha blushed. It wasn’t a question he had prepared for. ‘I haven’t met her,’ he temporised.
‘Would you like to?’
‘Perhaps.’
The chief elder clapped his hands and beckoned the girl over to his side. A young man who was seated a little way down the men’s table looked up in surprise and then his eyes narrowed in anger when he saw his future wife being summoned to meet the Babylonian prince. He had a fair idea where this might lead and, being a man who tended to act rashly and think afterwards, his hand closed over his dagger.
However, Mutu-Namaha was quite unaware of this; he only had eyes for Beletsunu. The girl kept looking at the floor whilst he spoke to her but occasionally she looked up and flashed him a demure smile. He wondered what he was doing. He normally despised those who fell for a beautiful face. He always felt that he would fall in love with someone like his mother; someone who was intelligent and independently minded as well as attractive to look at. It was soon apparent to him that this girl was not someone who would be his soul-mate but, under her innocence, he detected a sensual promise that excited him.
It was then that he realised that he had backed himself into a corner. The chief elder obviously expected him to ask for her hand and to do otherwise now could alienate him and place him in danger. He cursed himself for a fool.
‘What a pity she is already promised to another,’ he said lightly. ‘She does you credit.’
‘Oh, that’s not a problem. I’m sure that ...’
Whatever he was sure about would remain unknown as the young man to whom the girl had been promised got up with a roar of rage and, before anyone could stop him, he lurched at Mutu-Namaha with his dagger. With great presence of mind the chief elder got up and stood in the young man’s path.
‘Go and sit down and put that away,’ he hissed at the youth. ‘You shame our city by trying to attack an honoured guest.’
The two stood facing each other for a minute and then the young man nodded and put his dagger away before leaving the room. He knew that, having obviously intended to murder Mutu-Namaha,
his life would be forfeit, so he took his ship and fled to Elam that same night.
The chief elder was full of apologies which Mutu-Namaha waved away. The girl had fled the room immediately after the incident, followed by her mother. It had soured the feast but both men tried their best to carry on as if nothing had happened. Mutu-Namaha felt at first that he had had a lucky escape but, as the evening wore on, he found himself longing to see the girl again. He realised with a groan that he was infatuated with her.
After a sleepless night during which he did little but think of her he asked the chief elder the next morning if he could meet the girl again in private to talk to her. The man was astounded but delighted and sent for her and her mother. He explained that her father was dead, drowned when his ship had sunk, and so he was acting in his stead.
Mutu-Namaha took Beletsunu for walk along the beach, followed at a discreet distance, but out of earshot, by the mother and four of Mutu-Namaha’s guards, just in case anyone else had designs on his life. He found her refreshing to talk to. She might not be the partner that his mother was but she was not the sort of girl who believed that her sole purpose in life was as a plaything in bed and a producer of children. She wanted both of those but she also wanted a husband who would treat her as an equal and tell her his thoughts and problems.
She might not be able to help him in the way that Adiar helped Hammurabi - she wasn’t that clever - but at least she was genuinely interested in military matters. He began to think that it might just work. The touch of her hand sent a thrill of pleasure running through his body. Just being near her excited his manhood so much it was almost painful.
By the end of the day he had arranged for the high priest of Ur to marry them the next morning. Marduk knew what his parents would say, but he found that he didn’t much care.
Chapter Thirteen – King of Kings – 1761 BCE
Now that Sumeria was pacified, Hammurabi held a ceremony in Larsa at which he sacrificed three bulls and countless sheep and goats to thank the gods for his victory. At the same time, Samsu-Iluna was formally made King of Sumeria and his new wife, Darya, acknowledged as queen. The one surprise was that Hammurabi had also made Uktannu a king: King of Lagash.
‘I want to create a bulwark against Elam,’ he had explained to Samsu-IIuna and Uktannu when he had proposed the idea. ‘You, my son, will have a vast kingdom to rule over and many matters to occupy your time. I am therefore going to make Uktannu sub-king under you to look after Lagash, Urukag and Girsu and to rebuild Nina. You will need to repair the walls around Girsu and build up the population so that you can defeat any attack by Elam. I know that they are weak at the moment, especially since Uktannu defeated their army from the far south of their territory, but they will recover and they will try again.’
‘What about Mutu-Namaha, father? Will you forgive him?’
‘Hmm, fortunately for him I am short of good commanders, especially now that I have lost Uktannu from the army.’ He smiled at the young man. ‘Perhaps his short exile to Ur with his new wife will have taught him something about the proprieties of life, like asking me for permission to marry.’
In fact banishment to Ur had been nothing but pleasurable for Mutu-Namaha. Free from his responsibilities as army commander, he had treated it as one long honeymoon and he and Beletsunu had exhausted each other in the pursuit of sexual bliss. Their efforts had been rewarded and she was now expecting their first child.
Uktannu had set off with Sabitum and the twins as soon as he decently could after the ceremony. The only disappointment was when Hammurabi had explained to him that Arishaka and Sabitum’s son would succeed him as King of Lagash and not his eldest son by Sabitum, if they had one.
Hammurabi recalled Mutu-Namaha to Babylon. When he said that he was short of good commanders, it was true. Originally he had five half-brothers, born to other concubines of his father and all younger than him. He had trained them in the military academy he had established and given them all commands in his army, partly to keep them from plotting against him. Two had shown real promise but both had been killed in the countless wars he had fought during his thirty-six year reign. Another had been killed at the siege of Kutallu and the remaining two were adequate captains of a thousand spearmen, but that was the limit of their ability.
Whilst the academy continued to produce junior captains it hadn’t been able to cope with the death rate in battle or the rapid expansion of the standing army. Hammurabi therefore decided to establish another school in Larsa to train the sons of Sumerian merchants and council members. He pondered for some time who he should appoint as the army commander of the south to help Samsu-Iluna and called a meeting with Adiar and both of his sons to discuss it.
To Mutu-Namaha the choice was clear. ‘Most of the green crests and other senior commanders are good at their jobs but they show little flair for tactics or, just as importantly in an army commander, for the strategic overview. The only person who stands out in this regard in my view is Haban and I am sure that Uktannu would agree with me, were he here.’
‘But he was an urchin who has worked his way up from being a slinger. He isn’t a member of the ruling class, nor has he been through the academy. The others would never accept him.’ Samsu-Iluna had been taken off guard by his brother’s recommendation and he had been surprised into revealing his prejudices.
‘I hadn’t thought of Haban, I must confess, but now that he has been mentioned I agree that he is the one senior commander who has shown that he has initiative. The mere fact that he has worked his way up from street urchin to the green crest commanding the camel archers is an argument in his favour, not against him.’ Hammurabi looked across at his wife who nodded.
‘I agree, he will serve you well, my son. In some ways he reminds me of Tarhunda.’ Adiar was referring to the Hittite who had been Hammurabi’s first army commander. ‘He is no polished courtier but he is clever, ruthless when necessary and a good leader; his men would follow him anywhere.’
Samsu-Iluna thought for a moment. ‘I hear what you say and perhaps my initial reaction was engendered more by surprise than real opposition to the idea. Haban it is then.’ The new King of Sumeria was nothing if not a pragmatist.
Hammurabi returned to Babylon with Mutu-Namaha and their wives and prepared to march north and deal with Eshnunna once and for all, and with the duplicitous King of Mari, Zimri-Lim. Mutu-Namaha was loathe to leave his wife, especially now she was pregnant, but it couldn’t be helped. He hoped that the campaign would be a swift one. Half of the standing army had been left behind to garrison Sumeria, especially along the border with Elam, and to provide the nucleus for its new field army.
A month later they set out with twenty thousand spearmen, five thousand archers, three hundred light chariots, a thousand camel archers and a thousand slingers. After two weeks they reached Upi and prepared to cross the Tigris into Eshnunna. It was then that they ran into their first problem.
Eshnunna had no standing army except for the city watches and relied on militias who were poorly trained and equipped. Past wars had seen men of military age decimated and the age for recruitment had been lowered to fifteen as a result. However, the army which stood on the bank of the Tigris opposite the usual crossing point looked very different to that which Hammurabi was expecting. It was about thirty or thirty five thousand strong, rather larger than the Babylonian army it faced, and consisted of Assyrians and Hittites as well as Eshnunnans.
The Hittites had obviously been hired for money. They were known to have a large standing army and one of the perennial problems for the Hittite king was paying for it. The usual solution was to raid their neighbours and expand their kingdom but they were not averse to hiring out mercenary contingents as well. In this case, it was cavalry. Although the Babylonians used horsemen as scouts and messengers – something introduced by Tarhunda the Hittite – they hadn’t used them as shock troops. There were several reasons for this: they didn’t have enough horses, the cavalry concept was not well unde
rstood and, finally, Hammurabi was happy to rely on his light chariots and his camel archers for this.
It was clear that crossing the Tigris in the fleet of boats that had been assembled wouldn’t be possible in the teeth of such a powerful enemy. A more subtle approach was necessary. Mutu-Namaha suggested crossing further upstream or downstream but it was obvious from the movement in and out of their camp that Sulu-Sin was using his Hittites to patrol the river to guard against this.
He was confident that, with his fleet, he could also prevent Sulu-Sin from crossing the river and attacking Upi so he decided to deal with Assyria first. Eight days later he arrived at Hiritum. The enemy had shadowed his progress up the Tigris, as had the Babylonian fleet. The city had recovered completely from the last siege and its army was now trained to the same standard as that of Babylon. The eight hundred soldiers who Uktannu had left behind to train them re-joined their comrades and Narem-Suen added another thousand of his men.
Hammurabi left Hiritum three days later heading north. He smiled to himself as he saw the Assyrian contingent racing to get ahead of him on the assumption that he was heading for Assur. Having split the enemy army in two he now doubled back, marching through the night, and started to cross the Tigris just north of Hiritum.
By dawn half his army was across and by the time that the Eshnunnans and the Hittites appeared, having realised that they had been tricked, there were only six thousand of his spearmen left on the west bank. He drew his army up with fourteen thousand spearmen in the centre and the foot archers in front. The chariots took position on the right wing whilst the slingers protected the left wing. He placed a hundred camel archers in the rear as reserve. Mutu-Namaha had taken the remaining nine hundred into the hinterland out of sight during the night. He just hoped that Sulu-Sin didn’t realise that they were missing. He kept his fifty scouts beside his chariot to act as messengers.