copper coin into the bowl.
“May the gods send you blessings, honored mother,” Dragan said gratefully. A copper coin meant a good meal for them both tonight.
“My name is Uvela,” the woman said. “You are from the borderlands?”
“Yes, Mistress Uvela. My brother Ibi-sin and I were farmers there, until the raiders from Larsa came and killed our family.”
To Dragan’s surprise, Uvela squatted beside them. “Tell me what happened.”
No one had ever asked for their story before. They told Uvela what evil fate had fallen on their family, answering every question about the hated raiders from Larsa. By then Dragan guessed that Uvela was one of those women who worked for Lady Trella, wife of King Eskkar. When he finished the last of their sad tale, Uvela offered her sympathy and left.
After that, she would stop by once or twice a week, giving them a copper coin each time, but never staying to talk. The days passed slowly, and Dragan and his brother grew weaker. Food might be plentiful in Akkad, but if one wanted to eat well, one had to work to earn it. Almost two months slipped by, and Dragan knew he and his brother were going to starve to death.
Then Uvela returned, but this time she dropped no coin in their bowl. “Would you like to earn some copper?”
“Of course, mistress,” Dragan answered. “Anything we can do, anything…”
“Then follow me,” she said, “but not too closely. It’s best that no one knows our business.”
With the two brothers trailing a dozen paces behind, she led the way to a small house near the river gate. Another woman was there, and food was spread out on a blanket. Dragan and Ibi-sin dropped to their knees and devoured bread, cheese, dates and the first ale they’d had in many days.
When they finally finished eating, the other woman spoke to them.
“My name is Annok-sur. Would you like a chance to strike back at Larsa for killing your family?”
Three months later, Dragan and Ibi-sin had regained much of their health and strength. During that time, a tanner had come by each evening to teach them how to work with leather. Tools, the most valuable things the brothers had ever owned, and for which an apprentice might work two years to obtain, were provided as well.
Annok-sur told them what they needed to do, how they needed to act, what tale they would tell while living in Larsa. When their training and instruction ended, a boat had taken them downriver, dropping them off at night a mile from Larsa’s gate. Annok-sur’s coins enabled them to enter the city and rent the hovel there that they now called home.
For almost two years, they lived in Larsa. Every month or so a man stopped by to give them a few more copper coins. The man, who never gave his name, listened to what they’d learned, and told them what they needed to do. He even gave them weapons, two long copper knives like those Dragan had seen for sale in Larsa’s market.
Those weapons, wrapped in a sack and buried beneath the floor of the hut, had waited for over a year until the day when they would be used.
Annok-sur’s caution and their long preparation had succeeded. Since the war had broken out, King Naran’s men had scoured the city, searching for any strangers or spies who might be in the pay of Akkad. Naran’s agents collected every able-bodied newcomer to Larsa and set them to work in the slave gangs, to make sure no one tried to betray the city from within. But Dragan and his brother had lived for so long in the city that they were beneath notice, not that any soldier would pay the slightest attention to two cripples.
As soon as Dragan learned of King Eskkar’s army camped on the plain outside of Larsa, he knew that today or tomorrow would be that day — the day when he and his brother would take their revenge against King Naran and his murderers.
“W ake up, Captain.” Grond’s head poked up through the hole in the roof. When the sleeping man didn’t move, Grond reached over and shook Eskkar’s leg.
Eskkar lifted his head, his hand already on his knife. “What is it?” His voice sounded heavy with sleep, and he knew he’d slept well, though not long enough.
“Boats are coming down the river. I think it’s Yavtar.”
By the time Eskkar reached the riverbank, a whole fleet of approaching riverboats were strung out like jewels on a necklace. He counted twelve boats, more than he had expected. The first craft angled its way toward the shore, swung smartly against the current, and slid alongside the jetty. In a moment, Yavtar jumped onto the little dock as, one by one, the other vessels birthed themselves on the riverbank, where eager hands pulled them up onto the shore.
“Good to see you again, Captain.” Yavtar clasped his arms around Eskkar’s shoulders.
“You brought more ships than we expected.”
“Bisitun sent two more ships, and the builders just finished two more. I had to scrape Akkad’s docks to find crews, but we’re here now with everything you need, including a dozen ladders.”
“Food and the fire-arrows?”
“Yes, along with twenty-five jars of oil. And plenty of bread and meat. At least you won’t be fighting on an empty belly.”
Gatus and Alexar strode up to the tiny jetty, and exchanged greetings with the boatmaster.
“He’s brought the fire-arrows,” Eskkar said. “Let’s get them off the boats first. If we can, we’ll attack tonight.”
He turned back to Yavtar. “Did you see any sign of Shulgi on the way down?”
“Yes, and he saw us, too. We tried to slip by at night, but some sentry taking a piss spotted us and gave the alarm. There was nothing they could do except shoot a few arrows at us, but we were well away from shore and the light was poor. His horsemen caught up with us the next day and followed us along the river. We shot a few arrows at them, just to give the archers some target practice.”
This far south, the Tigris flowed wide and deep. Without boats of their own, the Sumerians had no way to intercept the vessels. And two of Yavtar’s boats were fighting ships. They carried little cargo, but plenty of archers.
“How far back is their main force?”
“At least two days,” Yavtar said, “maybe three. If he gets here any sooner, his men will be too tired to walk, let alone fight.”
“I don’t intend to give him the chance,” Eskkar said. “Make sure everything gets unloaded. It will be dark soon enough. And I’ve a few wounded men you can take back, plus some loot the men have picked up.”
Alexar shouted some orders, and the dock burst into activity. It didn’t take long for two hundred men to empty the twelve boats, distributing the food and weapons. Other soldiers filled sacks with sand and dirt, to ballast the boats for their return voyage upriver. In what seemed like no time at all, Yavtar and his boats were being pushed back into the water, their crews cursing at the clumsy soldiers whose excess zeal threatened to swamp the boats. Then oars bit into the river and they headed upriver, not to Akkad, but a resupply point halfway between the city and Kanesh. Only one boat remained — a small but fast craft — to carry word upriver of the army’s success or failure at Larsa.
As soon as the last boat departed, Eskkar, Grond, Gatus, Alexar and the other commanders sat around a campfire, wolfing down bread only a few days old and sharing a small cask of ale, the first since they’d left Akkad. Eskkar paused between mouthfuls.
“Get everyone into position. We’ll have to bring the archers and spearmen close to the wall, in case the horsemen try to attack our rear. Mitrac, you know where to direct the arrows. Gatus and his spearmen will protect your rear and flanks, along with Alexar and the rest of the archers. If nothing works, Drakis and his men will attempt to scale the wall. Grond and I will hold three hundred spearmen and a hundred archers in readiness, in case the gate opens.”
“You should let someone else lead the way, Eskkar,” Gatus said.
His men had argued about that before, but Eskkar refused to stand around and do nothing.
“No, that’s been decided.” He finished his bread and stood. “Grond, send the signal.”
“If the gate doesn’t open, we’ll use the ladders.” Alexar sounded confident. His men had practiced scaling walls in the dark and under the covering arrows of the archers.
Grond walked off into the darkness. Before long, a drum began to sound. Five slow beats, struck with full
