“Don’t speak of such things, Trella. Eskkar would not be the same if he didn’t command men in battle. Unlike your Eskkar, Bantor knows only fighting It’s the trade he’s followed since he left the farm, little older than a boy.”
“Then we must do everything in our power to make sure our men succeed and survive. The first thing we’ll need are spies in Sumer and the other cities.”
“They can be found,” Annok-sur said, “especially now that the Sumerians have ravaged the southern lands. Many from those lands burn with hatred for what the Sumerians did. But just as important, we’ll need a way to collect and send the information back to Akkad. That will be more difficult.”
“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 Enhedu. 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…
T ammuz 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
