by Sam Barone
“Yavtar will help with that.”
“We should tell him to buy or build two or three fast boats to use only for carrying information.”
“Yes, but I want to do something else,” Trella said. “What we really need is to get spies close to the ruling houses, perhaps even inside them. If we could do that, we’ll gather more facts and fewer rumors. If we’re going to have people risk their lives getting us information, it should be as reliable as possible.”
“That will be difficult. The wealthy merchants trust only their own servants and kin. We’ll have to bribe our way into those places. That will put the spies in great danger. Gold always attracts too much attention.”
“I might have a different way,” Trella said. “And I think a spy should be able to do more than just collect information. He should be able to kill the decision makers and other key leaders, if the opportunity presents itself. No leader has enough competent men surrounding them. Look how often Eskkar talks with the men, watching them train, trying to find good men to be leaders of ten or twenty.”
“An assassin would be useful,” Annok-sur said. “Even one killing stroke at the right time could tip the scales of battle.”
“Which means the Sumerians will think of the same thing. We will have to increase our own guard, to protect Eskkar. He’s still the most vulnerable target.”
“And you. Even this Eridu will have enough gold left to dispatch a murderer or two, to seek his revenge. Perhaps Eskkar shouldn’t have cut off his hand after all.”
“No, it was the right thing to do,” Trella said. “Eskkar understands the use of force and terror. Eridu will carry that fear with him for the rest of his life. It will cloud his thoughts. Everyone he meets with will know that hatred colors Eridu’s words. But we must double our efforts to protect Eskkar. I want more eyes following his movements. I want the women to report any stranger who shows the slightest interest in Eskkar or Sargon or myself. Or the city. Gather as many as you need to do this.”
“And this other thing you spoke of, getting someone into the ruling houses?”
Trella smiled. “I think it’s time for you to send for Tammuz and En-hedu. I think they will be the perfect choice to send to Sumeria, if they’re willing. But first we’ll need to train them in secret. And for that I think we’ll need a farmhouse somewhere north of here, away from the city’s eyes. I’m sure Rebba can provide one near the river.”
“And what kind of training are you planning for them?”
Trella told her.
“I’ll send for them in the morning,” Annok-sur said with a smile. “And what about Orodes? Are you still certain he’s the man you want?”
Trella sighed. “I hope so. He has the quickest wits of any metalworker in Akkad. Even his father had to admit that his son knew his craft. It’s just unfortunate that Orodes was born the third son, instead of the first. But then we wouldn’t be able to make use of him.”
“And if he can’t stay sober? Once a man falls into drink, he finds it hard to abstain.”
“There won’t be anything to drink where he’s going. That will give him time to change his habits. But if he’s not the right person, we’ll have to find someone else to work the mine.”
“I suppose living in the hill country will do Orodes good.” Annok-sur laughed. “Tooraj will keep him sober.”
“If Orodes can’t stay away from the taverns, then he’s of no use to us,” Trella said. “In that case, tell Bantor to make sure Tooraj gets rid of him. We want to keep the mine secret for as long as we can, until it’s well established and producing gold. And we don’t want anyone with knowledge of the site and its contents to be able to sell what he knows.”
“That we can always do, Lady Trella.” Her husband would kill Orodes or anyone else for that matter, if the request came from Trella.
“Then we might as well go to bed. I think our husbands will be up early tomorrow, talking war.”
“Let’s hope that if war does come, it will be a short one.”
“Annok-sur, I think that is the only kind of war Akkad can win. If the strife with Sumeria drags on for years and years, our city will die.”
Book II – Preparation for War
15
The city of Sumer, two months later . . .
Tammuz and En-hedu reached the city of Sumer a little after midday. Each carried a large linen sack slung over his shoulder. As proper, En-hedu’s burden exceeded her husband’s both in size and weight. Dirt, dust and sand covered the couple’s worn and patched clothing, as well as their hands and faces. When the strong west wind blew over Sumeria, it painted everything it touched in shades of gray. Several times in the last few days they had to stop and huddle close together, backs to the onrushing air, until the stinging sandstorms sighed into silence.
They had traveled south for four long days, walking from the tiny village of Mari all the way to Sumer. At last, footsore and weary, they had reached the end of their journey. Now they picked their way through the growing lines of chattering people entering or leaving the city.
Four soldiers guarded the gate, inspecting those trying to enter as well as those seeking to leave. One stepped in front of Tammuz, blocking his way.
“No beggars allowed in Sumer,” he said, glancing at Tammuz’s crooked left arm. A cripple could do no real work.
“We’re not beggars,” Tammuz said. “My wife and I are farmers from Ubaid.”
The two of them had spent ten days living in the village of Ubaid, learning to speak like any of the Ubaid villagers, lest their speech give them away as coming from Akkad. When they departed, they knew everyone and everything about the Sumerian village, and could answer any question as if they had lived there all their lives.
The guard’s voice implied that he had heard that claim before. “One copper coin each to enter the city, then.”
“I see others entering without paying,” Tammuz argued, pointing with his good arm at a few people walking by.
“They live here. They have a right to come and go.”
“How do you know they live here?”
“Do you see them loaded down with all their possessions? Now get away from the gate.”
“We plan to live here as well,” Tammuz said.
“Not unless you pay,” the guard insisted.
Another soldier sauntered over. “Any problem with these two?”
“They don’t want to pay,” the first guard said, “or they can’t.”
“Get rid of them.”
“Wait, we can pay,” Tammuz said. He turned to En-hedu. “Give them the coppers.”
En-hedu deposited her sack on the ground between her feet, reached inside her dress, and withdrew a battered leather pouch that remained fastened by a thick loop around her neck. Taking her time, she undid the knot, reached in, and removed two coins that she passed to Tammuz, who handed them to the guard.
The second guard’s eyes followed En-hedu’s every move as she withdrew the coins from the pouch. If these fresh-off-the-farm country bumpkins possessed two coppers, why not three? “And one more for King Eridu’s guards.”
With the speed of a striking snake, En-hedu snatched the coins back from the first guard’s still open palm. “No! My uncle warned us that you would demand more. If there was any trouble, he said we should ask to see your commander and give the payment to him.”
The guard frowned. A small group had gathered to watch the newcomers pay their entry fee. Hearing the commotion, they edged closer, as eager to see either the guards humiliated or the newcomers driven away. He glanced around, his hand on the hilt of his sword. “All right, damn you both, two coins to enter. Either pay or get away from the gate.”
“Two coppers. No more.” En-hedu extended her hand, and once again the coins dropped into the first soldier’s palm. A few of the gawkers laughed at the guards’ discomfort.
Tammuz grabbed En-hedu, jerking her to his side. “Be silent, woman. Remember your place.” He bowed to the guards. “I thank y
ou for your help.”
Slinging his sack over his shoulder, Tammuz pushed his way through the gate, En-hedu following a step behind.
“Give her a good beating tonight,” a woman called out.
“If you’re strong enough,” another voice shouted. A laugh went up, and this time the guards joined in.
“He already did,” the first guard added in a loud voice. “Look at her nose.”
En-hedu’s first master had broken her nose in a drunken rage, and it had never healed properly.
More laughter greeted the jest, but by that time, Tammuz and En-hedu had stepped through the gate. The guard’s words meant nothing; they had heard it all before.
As soon as they were well inside the city, Tammuz grinned at her. “That went well. I was expecting them to ask us our business or look inside the sacks.”
“All they care about is taking bribes from ignorant farmers.” En-hedu turned her thoughts to the present. “Now we have to find a place to stay the night.”
Walking through the crowded lanes, they attracted little attention, just two more wide-eyed farmers moving into the city and carrying their handful of possessions. It didn’t take them long to reach the poorer section of Sumer. Yavtar had described the city in detail to both of them, and they not only knew where to go, but already had some idea of what they would find.
They stopped at one of the taverns which also functioned as an inn, a humble enough place suggested by Yavtar. An older woman with long gray hair straggling down her back blocked the doorway, her hands on her wide hips. She appraised them from head to toe and appeared to find little opportunity for profit.
“What do you want?”
“A safe place to stay for a few nights,” En-hedu answered, “and perhaps some food.”
“Only if you can pay. Too many people without any coins in Sumer these days.”
“We can pay something,” En-hedu said, “and we can work until we’re settled.”
“There’s no work here, but one copper coin, and you can spend the night. In advance. Supper only, one cup of ale.” The woman’s firm voice showed there would be no haggling.
En-hedu glanced at Tammuz, who shrugged. One place was as good as another.
She paid the woman, who stepped aside and let them enter. This early in the day, the tavern stood empty, except for an old man leaning back against the wall, dozing with his mouth open. Only a few flies buzzed about. To En-hedu’s surprise, the place appeared to have been swept clean. By tonight, she knew the usual debris from the customers would litter the dirt floor.
“Since you’re here early, you can pick whatever place you like to sleep,” the woman said. “My husband will return before sundown. No ale or wine before then. If you want water, there’s a well down the lane.”
“Thank you, mistress.”
They had already stopped and drunk their fill. En-hedu picked her way to a spot on the opposite wall from where they entered. It was far enough away from the table where the owner would dispense the wine and ale, and almost as distant from the door to discourage any would-be robber. Thieves sometimes kicked open the door in the middle of the night, grabbed whatever they could, and fled before the sleeping customers knew they were being robbed. It had happened before, in Tammuz’s own tavern in Akkad.
They sat down, backs against the wall, grateful to be off their feet. As always, En-hedu sat at Tammuz’s left. His left arm, crooked and wasted, lacked any strength, and he could use it for small tasks only with some difficulty. His right hand and arm, however, rippled with thick muscle that bespoke long sessions each day to increase its strength. The sharp knife he wore on his belt was a gift from Lady Trella. While it appeared to be an old and well-worn weapon, it had been forged from the finest bronze by Akkad’s master swordmaker, then deliberately aged and nicked. A thief might give it a glance, but none would consider it worth stealing.
En-hedu carried her own knife, smaller but just as sharp, inside her dress. The baggy garment concealed both the weapon and her well-endowed bosom. In spite of her sturdy frame, as tall as her husband, both she and Tammuz could move like cats, quick and light on their feet.
“Rest, husband. I’ll keep watch.” She touched his leg, a little gesture of affection.
He smiled at her, then slumped down a little more. She watched him drift off to sleep. They would have to take turns staying awake during the night, lest some thief try to rob them. That was a risk they couldn’t take. The sacks they carried contained five gold coins, ten silver ones, and twenty coppers, all carrying marks from Sumer’s merchants.
Those coins, however, would enable them to establish a tavern of their own, much like the ones they had owned first in Akkad and then in Bisitun. En-hedu remembered the days not long ago when she would have stood in the doorway, making sure customers could pay or trade before they entered.
King Eskkar and Lady Trella had asked Tammuz and En-hedu to become their spies in Sumer. The couple had played a similar role once before, in Akkad. Nearly three years ago, Trella had rescued En-hedu from her brutal husband, who had beaten her so often that she begged for death. His last pummeling had broken her nose. After a few months to recover her health and spirit, Trella gave En-hedu as a slave to Tammuz, to help him run his little tavern.
He had just entered his fifteenth season, about the same age as En-hedu. Tammuz had treated his new possession with gentleness, and when the last of En-hedu’s emotional wounds finally healed, she found herself in love with her new master. His tender feeling for her gave En-hedu the first happiness she could remember.
Tammuz, already operating as a spy for Trella, kept watch on the worst of the beggars and thieves in Akkad, those desperate enough to kill anyone for a few coins. To fit in with his less reputable customers, Tammuz bought and sold stolen goods, and protected the petty criminals from the city’s guard as best he could. As a result, he gained his patrons’ trust, and he saw and heard much of what went on among Akkad’s dregs.
Trella neither wanted to know nor cared about the petty thievery that happened every day in Akkad, and every other village for that matter. What she sought was knowledge about anything serious, any whisper or hint of a planned deed that might threaten her husband and his rule.
By then few knew or remembered that Tammuz had ridden as a horse boy with Eskkar on his first skirmish. Disobeying orders, Tammuz joined in the fighting and killed an Alur Meriki warrior with an arrow. Then a horse and rider knocked him aside, shattering his arm in several places. Injured on the war trail and forced to ride while the fever raged in his body, Tammuz nearly died. Most leaders would have abandoned the friendless boy, but Eskkar did his best to keep Tammuz alive. A few nights later, when Eskkar and the other handful of survivors established the Hawk Clan, Tammuz, still racked with fever, had managed to swear the same oath that bound all of the surviving fighters together. At least that’s what the others told him, though Tammuz had little recollection of the ritual.
Because of his crippled arm, Tammuz could no longer fight, and most of the Hawk Clan members soon forgot about the crippled boy. But Trella, struggling to deal with the corrupt and devious nobles, had found a use for him, setting Tammuz up in the alehouse to keep an eye on those most willing to do violence.
When Korthac seized Akkad, Tammuz and En-hedu felt as helpless as anyone. But within a few days, Eskkar returned from the north and, in the middle of the night, broke into the city. Fighting had raged everywhere, and Tammuz had rushed to join in. By then he’d grown proficient with a knife, and several of Korthac’s Egyptian fighters died under his blade during the battle. En-hedu had killed one man herself, to save her master’s life.
Nevertheless, the fighting and its aftermath revealed Tammuz’s role as one of Eskkar’s loyal followers. They could no longer pretend to be dealers in stolen goods or even plain innkeepers. Twenty days after Korthac died under torture, Lady Trella sent Tammuz and En-hedu north for their own protection, to the village of Bisitun.
That had worked f
or a few months, but too many soldiers moving back and forth between Akkad and Bisitun knew of Tammuz’s role, and soon word spread that he was one of Eskkar’s followers. After that, they settled into a dreary existence as simple tavern owners, conspicuously avoided by any of the local thieves or anyone trying to escape official notice. Trella had advised them to be patient, that something important would be found for them.
Then one day Annok-sur had arrived, accompanied by Hathor, to meet them. Annok-sur offered Tammuz and En-hedu another, more dangerous chance to spy for Akkad. They would have to move to Sumer, become two of its inhabitants, and stay for at least two or three years. There would be great danger. If they were discovered, death by torture would be their fate. However, if they remained hidden and provided useful information, they could return to Akkad in due time and step out into the open as respected members of Eskkar’s inner council.
One look at Tammuz’s face and En-hedu knew he wanted to accept. Since his arm prevented him from joining Eskkar’s soldiers, he would take on any role that Eskkar and Trella suggested that gave him a chance to fight. To Tammuz’s credit, he had turned to En-hedu to see what she thought. Whatever reservations En-hedu had had vanished.
In truth, she was as wearied of their life in Bisitun as her husband. So they agreed to go to Sumer. But it turned out there was much more that Annok-sur wanted. She and Trella sought information from the leading citizens of Sumer, not just the poor and destitute. And Lady Trella had figured out a possible way for En-hedu to gain entry to the wealthier merchants and traders.
Nor was Tammuz ignored. Hathor explained what Eskkar wanted. More training would be required for the both of them, so that they could not only defend themselves, but eliminate potential threats to their mission. That training had lasted more than a month before Annok-sur and Hathor considered them as well prepared as possible.
Then they traveled south, until they reached the village of Ubaid, in Sumer’s northern lands. One of Yavtar’s boat captains had come from the obscure village, and he escorted Tammuz and En-hedu there.