by Sam Barone
“We were caught by surprise.” Eridu’s voice sounded hoarse, and he could barely get the words out without choking. “We should have beaten them . . . a few more moments and Eskkar’s men would have been destroyed.”
“Perhaps it is as you say, King Eridu. Like you, I believe any man can be beaten. But what is done is done. Raising another army is not a plan that guarantees success, not against a trained and experienced warrior.” He glanced at his companions again. “So tell us, King Eridu, how you will defeat him this time?”
“Razrek and I will come up with a new plan. We’ll find a way to lure him south and crush him.”
Kuara tactfully didn’t bother to mention that that plan had already been tried and failed.
“Eridu, all of us wish to see Akkad’s ruler killed and the city destroyed. We all wish to take our share of the lands north of the border. But our men will not follow you down that path again. You’ve fought Eskkar. He offered you a sword to fight him, man to man, and when you refused, he cut off your hand. Even if the soldiers obey your orders, they will march into battle knowing that you dared not face him yourself, knowing that their cause is lost, that victory always sides with the barbarian. They will fight poorly, and run as soon as the first Akkadian arrow flies over their heads.”
“Your insolence will be remembered,” Eridu said. “You, all of you will –”
“My king,” Razrek cut in, before Eridu did even worse damage to his cause. “We must be patient. We have suffered a serious defeat, and it takes time for soldiers to lick their wounds and forget their shame and embarrassment. Give me a few months, and they will burn with thoughts of revenge against Eskkar. They will remember how he attacked them by surprise. Meanwhile, we need time to raise and train many more soldiers. And Kuara speaks the truth. We need to find a new plan to destroy Akkad. When we have that, the men will take heart and fight with all their strength once again.”
Eridu wasn’t ready to give up yet. He turned to his son. “Shulgi, you can take command of Razrek’s men. You can lead the men north.”
“No, Father. Razrek is right,” Shulgi said. The son possessed his father’s height, but broad muscles covered his chest, and thick arms showed the effects of years of training. He had only eighteen seasons, but he spoke with the voice of one much older. “Our soldiers believe that Eskkar is either blessed by the gods or protected by demons. They believe . . . they know, he will win if it comes to a battle. We must remove such thoughts from their memories. We can prepare for a future battle, but it will be many months, perhaps years before we are ready to fight again.”
“Listen to your son, to Shulgi,” Kuara said, his voice now soft and persuasive. “He grows in wisdom with every passing day. When the time is ready, the cities of Sumeria will provide men to defeat Akkad. But we must not move too soon.”
Eridu pushed himself to his feet, his hand flat on the table for support. “Get out! Get out, all of you! You’re nothing but cowards! I’ll lead the men myself. Then I’ll settle with each of you.”
Kuara shrugged in resignation. He rose, as did his companions. He bowed graciously to Eridu, but left the chamber without a word, the other two representatives trailing behind.
Razrek started to speak, but Eridu cut him off. “You get out, too. You and your cowards left me alone to face the Akkadians. With all your horsemen, you failed even to get a warning to us.”
Razrek started to answer the charge, but he caught Shulgi’s eye and saw the shake of his head. “Yes, my king.” Razrek bowed and left the room.
Father and son watched the soldier depart. Shulgi waited until the door closed. “Should I leave, too, Father?”
Eridu reached across the table to drag the pitcher of wine toward him, and he poured himself a cup. His left hand still didn’t equal the right, and wine spilled across the surface, angering him further.
“How dare you not support your own father? You should have challenged Razrek. You keep telling me you’re ready to lead the soldiers, but you’re as weak as the others. You fear even to avenge your father. Go. Go back to your men and pretend to be a soldier. And send my steward to me.”
“Yes, Father.” Shulgi rose and left the chamber, as silently as the others.
Outside the gloomy chamber, Shulgi found Petrah, his father’s steward, waiting in the corridor in case he was needed. The old man had served Eridu faithfully for more than twenty years, and in that time Petrah had developed an uncanny sense of knowing when he would be wanted.
“He asked for you, Petrah. Be aware, he’s in a foul mood.”
“Thank you.” Petrah never bothered to waste words. He brushed past Shulgi and closed the door behind him.
Shulgi stared at the closed door for a moment, his lips tight. He turned away, went down a flight of stairs, and stepped out into the sun-filled courtyard. He walked past the private well and continued until he reached the rear of Eridu’s quarters. A small but separate dwelling stood against the wall, one that contained only three rooms, the province of his half-sister, Kushanna. Flowers and shrubs grew along the side of the house, softening for a few paces the hard lines of the Compound. The king cared little for anything green.
Kushanna waited for him just inside her doorway. Like Petrah, she also seemed to know when she would be needed.
“I saw the others leave,” she said, stepping aside to let her brother enter. “They had smiles on their faces. Did it go as you expected?”
Shulgi could restrain himself no longer. “No, it went the way you said it would, damn you!”
“Come inside,” Kushanna said, ignoring the harsh words. “Tell me all about it.”
He followed her through the main chamber and into one of the inner rooms, not her bedchamber but a small windowless alcove where her companion slave slept at night. Shulgi had never been invited into Kushanna’s bedroom. Even she wasn’t that bold.
Kushanna sat on a small chest, while Shulgi sat on the edge of the slave’s bed and stared at his sister. The entrance to her quarters could be seen from here, but no one could hear their words, as long as they kept their voices low. And no one could see inside the alcove without being seen.
Shulgi took a deep breath to calm himself. “I told him . . . we told him what needed to be done, that he had to be patient, that he had to stop wasting his gold on weapons and men who can’t be trusted. Marduk take him! It’s my gold he’s spending, Shanna. My birthright. Even your dowry. Soon there will be nothing left for us, and Sumer will be weaker than before. Already the other cities no longer fear us.”
Kushanna smiled at him. She did not permit many to call her by her childhood name.
Nearly as tall as her half-brother, she had two more seasons than his eighteen. Graceful and willowy, with light brown hair that reached nearly to her waist, she attracted every man’s eyes. Her white gown of the softest linen clung to the full lines of her body. A gold ring adorned each of her forefingers, and a pendant of the finest lapis lazuli dangled between her breasts.
“So, what will you do now, my brother?”
“I’m surprised you’re not reminding me about Father. You warned me he would not see reason.”
“I could have been wrong,” Kushanna said, picking at a thread on her dress. “He might have listened to your advice.”
“He still thinks of me as a child,” Shulgi said. “I get more respect from my men – even from Razrek – than our father the king.”
“I know Razrek wanted you to accompany the soldiers when they went north. Perhaps if you had been there, our soldiers might not have been defeated.”
“Father did not want to share his glory with me,” Shulgi said, unable to conceal the bitterness he still felt. “That’s why the fool ordered me to stay behind, supposedly to protect his city and his gold. Not that I had managed to do even that much. His loyal steward Petrah made all the decisions, in father’s name, of course.”
“He’s been our father’s trusted servant for many years,” Kushanna said. “Such loyalty deserves
to be rewarded.”
“Yes, it does,” Shulgi said, his voice hardening as he envisioned a suitable reward for his father’s retainer. “Petrah will obey our father’s every wish, even if it means destroying Sumer in the process.”
“Petrah gathered the gold as soon as he received the message from Akkad. He paid the ransom in less than a day,” Kushanna said. “He was very concerned for our father’s welfare.”
Her calm words fed the flames of Shulgi’s rage, not that he cared any more. “Eight hundred coins, wasted, for nothing! Eskkar will use it to strengthen his army. And now father wants to spend what little gold remains on another foolish attack on Akkad. He will ruin Sumer to gain his revenge on Eskkar.”
“One day, when you rule here in Sumer and over the other cities, things will be different.”
He lifted his eyes and met her gaze. For once he paid no attention to the lush body sitting before him. “I think that day has come, Shanna. My father’s mind is consumed with hatred. He will destroy all of us. What we talked about . . . it must be done. Will you stand beside me?”
Kushanna met his gaze for a long moment, studying his face, as if measuring the depth of his anger and resolve. Satisfied, she rose from the chair and sat next to him on the narrow bed.
Shulgi felt the heat from her thigh through the thin garment as it touched his own.
“You know I will, Shulgi. You are the only man I have ever loved.” She took his hand in both of hers and pressed it to her bosom, letting him feel the softness.
A rush of desire swept over him. His eyes closed for a moment. When he opened them, her mouth was close to his own. Shulgi kissed the soft lips that reached up for him. They had kissed many times before, stolen moments when their father was absent or the servants occupied, and each time his passion for her grew stronger.
This time, however, Shulgi sensed something more than a casual dalliance. He let his hand slip from her grasp, and used his fingers to push the dress off her shoulder, until her right breast swelled from the garment’s confines. For once she didn’t push him away. Instead her eyes closed, and she took a deep breath, her nipple firm and hard. The warmth from her skin seemed to burn his hand as he brushed his fingers over her, and the scent of her body roused him even more than the sight of her naked breast, perfect in its beauty. He cupped the heavy globe of soft flesh, squeezing gently.
Shanna leaned against him, her body reacting to his touch. Then she opened her eyes and held his gaze while she nudged the dress down from her other shoulder, then let herself fall back on the bed. She reached up and traced her finger along his cheek, enjoying the look on his face as he drank in the sight of her bare breasts. Shanna had never let him go so far. Then she placed both her hands behind his neck and pulled him toward her.
Shulgi leaned over and kissed her breasts, first one, then the other. Shanna moaned softly at his caress, and arched her back against him, while her hand reached over to brush against the rock-hard manhood straining beneath his tunic.
“When will you make me yours, my beloved?” Her voice, husky now with passion, inflamed him even more, and the touch of her hand made his already fierce erection even harder.
He moved his mouth to her lips, and kissed them, gently at first, then with growing passion. “Tonight, my Shanna . . . tonight. Before our father decides to send me off on yet another wasted journey to recruit men.” He ran his hand over her breast, teasing the nipple until it swelled and hardened. “Besides, I can’t bear to wait another day for you.”
“The time for waiting is past,” Shanna agreed. “Tonight you will make me yours.” She returned his kiss one more time, then slipped from his grasp and sat up, smiling at him as she rearranged her dress. “But first we must talk about what needs to be done. We must plan with care, so that nothing can go wrong. Only when we are ready can we act.”
Shulgi forced the sight of her bare breasts from his thoughts. His erection still throbbed, but after all these years, he could wait one more day. “Then let us talk.”
The rest of the day passed soon enough, as Kushanna and Shulgi made their preparations. He felt no surprise at learning that she had already considered every detail, every step. And only when she declared herself satisfied with his role did she agree. One last kiss, and he returned to the soldiers’ camp just outside the city, where Razrek had settled his men and horses.
New recruits – those too stupid or too desperate to find another trade – milled about, waiting for the day to end. Kuara had spoken the truth in the council, Shulgi knew. These men would make poor fighters. It would take many months before even half of them reached the level of training achieved by the men Eridu had led north to their deaths.
Shulgi didn’t care. His own detachment of men – its survivors numbering less than thirty since the battle with Eskkar’s forces – were as good as any of Razrek’s core group of veterans. More important, they were loyal to Shulgi, not Razrek, not even Eridu. They were commanded by Vanar, formerly one of two of Shulgi’s leaders of twenty. The other had died by an Akkadian arrow, and Vanar had taken charge of those that remained.
Shulgi found Vanar stretched out on the grass beneath one of the few trees large enough to provide shade.
“Taking your ease, I see.”
Vanar opened his eyes, but didn’t bother to get up. “We’ve finished training for the day, commander. The men are washing down the horses in the river.”
“Make sure they give themselves a good cleaning as well. My father has complained about the horse stink of the guards at the house. When you’re satisfied with them, I want you and ten men at the house at sundown. Our men will take the evening shift at the Compound, from supper to midnight.”
That news prompted Vanar to pull himself to his feet. “Tonight, commander? Can’t we start tomorrow?”
“If you’re not there before sundown, I’ll be finding a new sub-commander. So unless you’d rather be taking orders than giving them . . .”
“Yes, commander. We’ll be there. But why so many men?”
“My father grows even more nervous about assassins from Akkad. So just get the men there.” Shulgi turned and made a circuit of the camp, making sure all was well. The sun had touched the western horizon before he walked back toward Sumer’s gate, ignoring everyone he encountered, many of whom gazed curiously at him as he passed by, wrapped in his private thoughts.
Shulgi had set the first part of the plan in motion. With Vanar and his men to back him, there would be no problem with the household servants or guards.
Meanwhile, Shanna would see to everything else inside the household. As they went over what they needed to do, Shulgi realized she had prepared for this day months ago, waiting until he came to his senses and saw what needed to be done. Shanna understood what it would take to rule Sumer, to turn the city into the mightiest in the land. She wanted that power, the same way Shulgi did. Together they could achieve it. If he had listened to her when she first proposed taking action, Shulgi would have been the one leading the soldiers north into Akkad’s territory. Unlike his father, Shulgi knew he would have returned with a victory. The men trusted him, believed in him. They would have fought bravely. Instead, they had run at the first sign of attack, as did Eridu.
Too late to worry about that now, Shulgi decided. In a way, this might even be a better time to act. Where once Shanna had tried to coerce her brother to act, now she merely had to encourage him. They both understood the grim future that awaited them if Eridu continued to rule. No, this was best. And even better, she would help Shulgi rule a new southern empire, even as she pleasured him in bed.
A sense of calm settled over him, and he wasted no more time worrying about what might happen tonight. Instead, he let his mind recall Shanna’s body. He’d wanted Shanna for years, dreaming about her, lusting for her, and now the time had come.
Long after Shanna reached the age for childbearing, her father had kept her at his side, little more than an intimate servant. Then, less than two years ago, Er
idu offered Kushanna for marriage to unite a troublesome village with Sumer. Shulgi had sulked in silent fury for days afterwards. Less than a month later, he joined the fighters defending the western borders of Sumer. Even killing his first man in combat soon afterwards hadn’t helped lessen the despair Shulgi felt at the thought of another man enjoying Shanna’s body, ordering her about, commanding her to kneel before him, to please him with her mouth and hands. Those visions had tortured him for months, and hardened his heart against his father, who had sold his daughter to a common merchant for a mere fistful of gold.
The marriage indeed worked well enough. Her husband, no doubt with prompting from Kushanna, had joined with Sumer and supplied both men and gold for Eridu’s growing military.
Thankfully, the gods had answered Shulgi’s prayers, and her foolish husband – an old man scarcely able to walk without a cane – had died little more than a year after the marriage. Since Shanna had produced no child, her husband’s family welcomed the opportunity to send back the unfruitful wife to her father’s house, even if they had to return part of the dowry. Eridu had been pleased to take her back under his roof, especially since she brought a fair share of gold with her.
None of that mattered to Shulgi now. For years Shanna had teased him, aroused him with her touch and caresses. Shanna had done almost everything to him, spilled his seed with her hands, everything but let him take her. Tonight would see the end of that game. Tonight she would be his, in his bed, his property. After tonight, there would be no more games, only an empire to build.