Conflict of Empires es-3

by Sam Barone

  This roof was scarcely two body lengths from end to end. He picked his way across, taking his time and always letting part of his weight settle before he moved the rest. When he reached the small ledge that separated the two huts, he heard movement on the other side. Either someone was sleeping on the roof, or a guard was keeping station.

  Gradually he lifted his head, moving so slowly that, even if the guard happened to be looking in that direction, he might not notice the tiny change in the ledge’s silhouette. When Sargat’s right eye cleared the top, he saw a man laying on his back, staring upwards, his hands behind his head. The relaxed position told Sargat that the sentry didn’t expect anyone to disturb his rest.

  Sargat settled back down and considered his choices. Despite all of Annok-sur and Wakannh’s warnings, Sargat hadn’t expected to find anyone up on the roof. At worst he’d expected the thieves or whatever they were to stick their heads up occasionally through the smoke hole and look around. That was usually enough to ensure privacy for those below. But the guard’s presence ended most of Sargat’s easy plans. It also confirmed that these strangers were up to no good, and were probably dangerous.

  He took another glance over the wall, studying the prone form of the man less than four good paces away. Before Sargat ascended to the nearby roof, Wakannh had sketched the layout of the two chambers that formed the structure below. Twice as long as wide, the men were likely gathered near the back end of the house. That meant that Sargat could hear whatever conversations were being held below without coming too close to the smoke hole. If he could get across the ledge, and take up a position directly behind the guard, he might lie there unnoticed, even if the sentry should glance around. With nothing breaking the line of the roof, Sargat knew the guard’s eye would skip over the darkness, and search only for the contrast lines where dark and light met.

  Ordinarily, this would be foolhardy, and Sargat had never been a fool. But the chance for plenty of silver — not to mention placing Lady Trella in his debt — made the risk worthwhile. Besides, if the guard did notice Sargat’s presence, he would be up and running over the rooftops to where Wakannh and his men waited. Despite what Lady Trella had said, he didn’t think they’d kill him if the strangers detected his presence.

  The decision made, Sargat rose up and began climbing over the dividing ledge. Moving each of his limbs one at a time, he resembled a spider more than a man. The sentry never moved. The man remained relaxed and at rest, lost in his thoughts. The idea that someone might try to creep up beside him on the roof never entered his head.

  Sargat kept his eyes focused on the guard. The slight creaks that his slow movements created were not what was important. Those down below would attribute any noises to the guard shifting about. As long as the sentry didn’t decide to turn his head and study carefully the rooftop behind him, Sargat kept moving forward.

  At last he reached his position, about an arm’s length from the back of the guard’s head. Turning his eyes downward, he eased his face against the roof poles, his weight spread out over as wide an area as possible. He didn’t worry about the poles giving way under his slight weight, since those who dwelt inside would be used to sleeping on the roof during the hot weather, and most families added more trimmed branches than they really needed.

  Beneath him, he could see almost nothing. Vague shadows outlined heads, and he guessed about five or six men were in the main chamber. Wakannh had made the same estimate, so at least none of the strangers had slipped away. No candles burned, and only a little moonlight filtered down through the smoke hole.

  At least now he could hear them talking, actually make out what they were saying. But the men spoke about women, ale, even the warm weather. One complained that he preferred the ocean breezes of Sumeria. The desultory conversation went on and on, without Sargat hearing anything of use to anyone. It looked as if he would have to remain where he was until they decided to fall asleep. Even Sargat started relaxing, despite the presence of the guard less than an arm’s length away.

  Then another voice broke into the conversation, one that Sargat hadn’t heard before. He realized that another man had entered the hut and joined the group. All the idle talk ceased, and the men shifted about, as if preparing themselves.

  “Rattaki! You awake up there?”

  The newcomer’s low voice sounded harsh, the voice of someone used to giving orders.

  The sentry jumped at the words, and shifted his body to lean over the smoke hole. “Yes, I’m awake. Think I can sleep up here without a blanket?”

  “Stay alert, then. You can listen from up there.”

  The sentry shifted his position, twisting his body and swiveling his head, and Sargat knew the man’s gaze had swept over Sargat’s prone figure. But the man saw what he expected to see, which was nothing. Sargat lowered his gaze, so that the whites of his eyes didn’t show.

  “The rest of you, pay attention. I’ve gotten word back from the horsemen. They’ll rush the wall tomorrow night when the moon reaches its highest point. It should give us enough light, and most of the guards will be half asleep by then. All we have to do is kill a few sentries, and get the ropes over the wall. Then the eight of us will hold the Akkadians off until the barbarians mount the wall. Each of us will wear a strip of cloth tied around the right elbow. Otherwise these bastards are as likely to kill us as anyone else inside the city.”

  Tomorrow night! If barbarians captured the city, Sargat’s own plans would be disrupted. The barbarian horsemen would put everyone to the sword, men and women, honest men and thieves alike. And they’d be trapping everyone inside the city, to make sure no one escaped with anything of value.

  “How many will be coming, Luroc?”

  A new name, one that Annok-sur and her agents hadn’t learned. Sargat decided that this Luroc was staying somewhere else, away from his men. He peered down through the branches. He couldn’t see much of Luroc’s features, but the man possessed a barrel-like body and a thick beard that concealed much of his face.

  “How should I know? Five hundred, a thousand. They’ve got a dozen ladders prepared, and they’ll head for the gate as soon as enough of them are over the wall. More than enough to brush aside these old men and new recruits.”

  Sargat concentrated on Luroc’s voice. He possessed a strong accent, marking him as a man from the southern-most lands of Sumeria.

  “You’re sure they know where to attack? Can they find — ”

  “They’ve already marked the Tanner’s Lane,” Luroc said. “They’ll be able to find it even if clouds hide the moon.”

  “And our gold? When do we get paid?”

  “As soon as we get back to Sumer. A boat will be waiting to take us south and we’ll be there in four or five days. Queen Kushanna will be eager to hear of our victory. And you’ll take onboard whatever loot we can pick up when the barbarians overrun the city. So just keep your mouths shut for another day. That means no drinking, no women, and no talking. Stay in the house as much as possible. And no one goes anywhere alone. I’ll cut the heart out of anyone who even thinks about doing or saying anything stupid.”

  Luroc answered a few more questions, until he grew annoyed with the process. Sargat decided that all these things had been discussed before, probably more than once. Luroc had come only to inform his men about the date and time of the attack, and go over the plan one final time. He would slip back into whatever hideout he had prepared for himself, one where his name would not be Luroc.

  At last the men grew silent. “Enough then. I’ll meet you at the wall just before the moon reaches its peak.” With one last word of warning to keep quiet and out of trouble, Luroc left the room. The sentry on the roof swung his legs over the smoke hole and skimmed down the ladder, his eyes focused only on his descent.

  Sargat waited until the first snore wafted up through the hole. Then one by one he stretched his muscles for the first time, making sure he could move without any problem. Taking his time, he retraced his movements back to the
ledge. This time he used the ledge to travel across the back of the huts, until he reached a place where he could drop lightly down to the ground. A dozen paces away, Wakannh and one of his men waited, but neither of them heard or saw Sargat’s approach until he stepped out of the shadows.

  “Demons below!” Wakannh swore. “Where did you come from?”

  “Did you see someone enter and leave?” Sargat couldn’t keep the excitement from his voice.

  “We saw a man enter, but didn’t see anyone come out. Thought it was just one of the men returning from taking a piss. Why?”

  “Never mind. Take me back to the Compound. I need to talk to Annok-sur and Lady Trella.”

  “It’s the middle of the night. Are you sure…?”

  “I’m sure. Now let’s get moving, before any more time slips by!”

  L ady Trella sat across the table from Bantor, his face framed by the two thick candles burning at either side, despite the lateness of the night. He’d just arrived from the barracks, at Trella’s summons. Annok-sur sat next to Trella, as she usually did. An excited Sargat, accompanied by Wakannh, had just completed the second recitation of what he’d heard for Bantor’s benefit, before leaving Akkad’s leaders alone.

  “And Sargat is convinced the attack will come tomorrow?” Bantor’s face showed his concern. “There’s been no word of any horsemen loose in the countryside, at least not anywhere near here. Our scouts have reported nothing so close. According to them, the barbarians are still many miles away.”

  “That’s what he heard them say,” Lady Trella said, “and I believe him. If we had any word of barbarians drawing near, you would have doubled the sentries on our gates and walls. Shulgi must have prepared this attack the same way he plotted the assault on Kanesh, a sudden strike by horsemen without any hint of their movements. Food for the riders and grain for the horses could have been hidden along their way, awaiting their arrival.”

  “It is possible, isn’t it?” Annok-sur leaned forward. “If they wanted only to attack Akkad, and not raid the countryside, could they reach here without any word?”

  Trella saw Bantor clench his fist on the table. He’d brought the news of the Alur Meriki raiding to the east and coming this way, and he didn’t like the idea that his outriders might have failed to detect their close approach. But despite what he lacked in imagination, he was no fool when the possibility of danger to Akkad arose. He knew the Alur Meriki could travel vast distances when necessary.

  “If they swung to the north-east, then rode straight in. They’d have to cover a lot of ground at night, at least fifty miles from daybreak to midnight. That’s a lot of riding in the dark.”

  “Skilled riders, with extra horses, carrying torches, and a well-marked trail prepared in advance.” Trella kept her voice persuasive. Bad enough Bantor had to deal with his wife’s authority from time to time. “We’ve done such things ourselves. We’ve no reason to believe Alur Meriki can’t do such things even more efficiently.”

  He gave in to their pressure. “I guess they could manage it. But there’s only one direction they could take to make this work. I can have riders out in the morning. As soon as we see them coming, we’ll have plenty of time to prepare.” He glanced up at the window, to gauge the progress of the moon. “Plenty of time left tonight to round up the Sumerians. It won’t take much to make them tell us who their leader is and where he’s hiding.”

  Trella took her time replying. In the interval since Sargat had completed his story, and Bantor’s arrival, she’d thought long and hard about the choices facing her. The easiest and safest solution was to do as Bantor said. Capture the Sumerians, put them to the torture. Even if they didn’t know where their leader was, they knew enough of the plan to confirm Sargat’s story. And once confirmed, the city could prepare itself. No force of horsemen, no matter how fierce or numerous, could scale Akkad’s high walls once they were properly defended.

  Nevertheless, that solution left her unsatisfied. Like everyone else, she wondered what Eskkar would do faced with the same facts. Unlike Bantor and the other commanders, Eskkar would seek to gain some opportunity from this information, to turn the enemy attack into a defeat. She knew he would not enjoy sitting idly behind Akkad’s walls while raiders — foiled in their attempt to slip into the city — terrorized the countryside.

  “Is there something else you would consider, Trella?” Annok-sur realized the time for a quick reply had long passed.

  “I don’t want these horsemen destroying the farms and crops,” Trella began, still working out the idea in her head. Eskkar always had his battle experience to guide him, but she had lived and fought beside him for over four years, and in that time, she’d insisted he relate every tale, every adventure, every fight that he’d even been in. And not just once, but time and again, asking him to explain each choice and the reasons behind it, and the likely consequences.

  “We’re another thirty or so horsemen coming down from Bisitun,” Bantor said. “They can patrol the countryside around the city.”

  She made up her mind. “No. I don’t want these men driven away. I want these barbarians destroyed, or at least defeated. Otherwise they’ll do as much damage to the crops as Shulgi and his whole army. Between them they’ll destroy almost every farm supplying Akkad.”

  Bantor shook his head. “They won’t attack in force once they see we’re ready for them.”

  “I know.” Trella let the smallest hint of authority strengthen her words. “So perhaps we should let them into the city.”

  Even Annok-sur looked askance. “What are you saying? Let them in?”

  “Remember during the Alur Meriki siege, when Eskkar proposed the same thing? He had a plan to let them over the walls, then attack them.”

  Bantor snorted. “I remember that… idea. Gatus and the rest of us didn’t care for it then. Eskkar likes to gamble, but we all thought the plan too risky. And we had a larger force of bowmen at our command than we do now.”

  “Ah, but then we didn’t have the leader of the Sumerians to help us invite them in.” As she spoke, Trella felt her own conviction increasing. Not only was this the right choice, it was what Eskkar would do if he were here. And the risk to Akkad could be managed. “With Luroc helping us, I think we can make it work.”

  She went over the ideas sketched out in her mind during the night. Annok-sur sought to find weakness in the plan, improving on some of Trella’s suggestions. By then Bantor, either half convinced or unwilling to argue with both his wife and Trella, decided that it might, just might, be done without too much risk.

  “Good.” Trella stood and placed her hand on Annok-sur’s shoulder. “Now all you have to do is find where this Luroc is hiding and bring him here. Bantor, you’ll have to prepare what we need, and all without telling anyone except your most trusted subcommanders what we’re planning.”

  B antor got no sleep for the rest of the night, nor did his wife. While Bantor summoned those men he felt certain he could trust for the coming day’s work, Annok-sur started the search for Luroc. By dawn, more than twenty women walked Akkad’s lanes, whispering Luroc’s vague description to dozens of other women, who in their turn spoke to others. In this way, every hut, tavern, shop and residence in the city came under their scrutiny, but without arousing suspicion.

  Nevertheless, midday came and went without any sign of the elusive Sumerian. For a man who’d been in Akkad for several days, he’d managed to stay out of sight. As the day grew short and they ran out of places to search, Trella suggested another possibility, namely that Luroc might be staying at the home of some Akkadian merchant.

  With that in mind, Annok-sur turned her attention to the upper-class traders and merchants. She soon discovered that only one merchant, Ramal-sul, had departed the city that morning by boat, heading north to Bisitun. And he had taken his family with him, leaving his servants in charge of the household.

  With that fact, Bantor gathered some men. Then he went to Ramal-sul’s house and knocked on the door.
When the servant opened it, Bantor asked to speak with the master’s guest, and the servant had duly let Bantor into the inner courtyard.

  Luroc, sitting comfortably on a shady bench, took one look at Akkad’s Captain of the Guard, and reached for his sword.

  “Don’t do anything foolish, Luroc,” Bantor said, holding up his hands. “The house is surrounded, and there are men on the rooftops. We know all about your plan for tonight, so it’s not like you have to betray any secrets.”

  Bantor spoke quickly. He wanted Luroc to know the situation before he attempted anything foolish.

  “My men could have taken you prisoner any time in the last few days, even last night after you gave your men their final instructions and left their hideout. Or I could have entered the house with a dozen men and rushed you before you knew we were there. Instead, I’ve come to offer you an arrangement. Lady Trella wishes to speak with you. I’m to bring you to her.”

  “Who betrayed me?” The gruff voice held more disgust than anger.

  Bantor leaned carefully against the courtyard’s entrance. He didn’t intend to get any closer to a desperate man with a sword in his hand. “I really don’t know. Does it matter?”

  Luroc, the sword in his hand, shook his head.

  Bantor saw the man preparing himself for a death fight. “If you want to live, I suggest you come quietly and listen to what Lady Trella has to say. You’ll find she can be quite generous. Otherwise… best fall on your own sword.”

  Before Luroc could decide what to do, the Captain of the Guard turned and left the room, leaving Luroc standing there still holding his naked blade.

  Luroc took only moments to make up his mind, perhaps assisted by the sight of two armed men who appeared on the roof of the house, peering down into the inner courtyard. One man carried a bow with a shaft already nocked to the string.