Tammuz how well you served both him and his city. If you try to escape, you will find no one will help you, no hiding hole so deep that I cannot find you. And if you give away your presence to our enemies, then you will spend many days with the pain-givers before you repay your crimes. So think carefully before you speak again. Will you learn what these strangers want in Akkad, and will you bring that information back to me — if for no other reason than it would give honor to your friendship with Tammuz?”
Sargat found his throat dry, and had to swallow before he could answer. “I will not fail you, Lady Trella. If you speak for Tammuz, then I will do what you ask.”
She kept her gaze on him for a moment, as if searching for the truth in his words. “Wakannh, take Sargat to where the strangers are staying. Give him whatever help he needs, and when he is finished, bring him back to me.”
“Yes, Lady Trella.”
Sargat saw the guard bow, but caught a glimpse of disappointment on his face. No doubt the man would have preferred to use his axe.
All that had transpired not long ago. Now Sargat lay stretched along the roof of the adjoining hut, his weight spread out over as many roof poles as possible. The poles had creaked a little when he settled in. Unless one kept to the edges of the mud-brick walls, a little noise was unavoidable. Sargat had squirmed and wriggled his way over the tops of people’s heads for more than ten of his sixteen years. Victims, he’d learned, might wake at any little sound, but if they then heard nothing, they were likely to fall back asleep, or attribute what they’d heard to some bird, cat or rodent moving about.
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
