Gemama chuckled. “Well, it’s only happened in the last few months, and it’s not something anyone talks about. Nor does Eridu claim to be their king, not yet, but as he says, he is now the first among equals. In truth, I think he feels a bit jealous at Lord Eskkar’s success. Too many people have been singing Akkad’s praises for driving off the barbarians, and some in the countryside, thinking they will better themselves, have migrated north to place themselves under Akkad’s protection. Eridu intends to put a stop to all that.”
“So it will be war then.” Yavtar shook his head in dismay. And this time the war would begin with Eskkar walking into a trap. “Trading will be the first casualty.”
“Not our trade to the east and west. That will continue without interruption. It will likely even increase. And once King Eridu establishes his claims over the disputed lands, the regular trade with the north will quickly resume, I’m sure. The crops and herds from those lands will then move south, not north.”
Rulers came and went, but the traders and merchants always found a way to exchange goods. Gemama spoke the truth. Trade would start up again sooner or later, no matter who won the battles.
“And the people of Sumer, are they as eager for war as their ruler?”
“The people do as they are ordered.” Gemama lifted his shoulders and let them drop. “For the last year, Eridu’s followers have blamed every shortage, every outbreak of disease, every problem on Akkad. The priests, seers, and even the merchants repeat the same message. By now, most of the city’s inhabitants accept it as truth. Eridu has plenty of lackeys in his pay to spread the word and enforce his will, all of them eager to partake in any profits that will arise. He has already promised much of the northern land to his supporters. War, I fear, has already come. It may already be over by now, if your King Eskkar doesn’t retreat to Akkad.”
Yavtar had much the same thought. “And you, friend Gemama, what do you think of all this?”
“I think that all this fighting is foolish,” the Sumerian said. “It would be easier and cheaper to trade for crops than wage war to seize the land and then have to hold it. One lazy soldier costs more than ten farmers. But if King Eridu wins a quick victory over Lord Eskkar’s forces, then Eridu’s reputation will be enhanced and profits will grow for everyone in Sumer.”
“Quick victories are not easy to gain over Akkad,” Yavtar said. “I’ve seen Lord Eskkar’s soldiers fight.”
“Everyone knows of the skill of Akkad’s archers. But with all the resources of the six cities and their thousands of men at his disposal, Eridu will soon rule most of the land between the rivers, perhaps even as far north as Akkad. In time, it may be that your city’s new walls cannot withstand so many.”
“King Eridu is not at Akkad’s gates yet,” Yavtar said. with more conviction than he felt. “Those who wage war against King Eskkar may find themselves losing more than they could ever hope to gain.”
“Win or lose, I must take care of my trading house and my family. Like everyone else in Sumer, I had no choice but to give my full support to King Eridu. For which privilege I am allowed to continue my trading ventures, and permitted to give one tenth of all my profits to him.”
“A heavy price. What if the fighting continues and he demands more?”
“I pray to the gods for a quick end to the fighting. Though I warn you, old friend, that Eridu and his soldiers seem very confident of victory. His second in command, Razrek, knows how to fight. Apparently, they’ve been planning this for months, gathering men, weapons and horses, talking in secret with the leaders of the other cities. Even Eridu’s son, Shulgi, plays a role in all this. In fact, many of the soldiers trust the son more than the father.”
“Who is this Razrek?” The name meant nothing to Yavtar.
“A former bandit who grew powerful by killing all of Eridu’s enemies on the trade routes over the last few years. I was fortunate not to compete with Eridu in those days.” He sighed. “Hopefully the war will not last long.”
He noticed Gemama didn’t pray for any particular side to win. The merchant’s words conveyed a grim optimism about the war. Gemama was no fool, and he knew the numbers of soldiers Sumer and the other cities could field. That knowledge must have convinced him that King Eridu would emerge victorious.
Yavtar kept the growing sense of uneasiness from his face. Lord Eskkar had departed a few days before Yavtar sailed, expecting to confront bandits and marauders, not a well-trained enemy. By now defeat could have struck Akkad’s forces, and the king himself might already be dead. “A war will provide profits for many.”
“Yes, for some,” Gemama agreed, “especially in the short term. But if the war drags on, Eridu will demand more gold from all of us, prices will rise, and the people will have less to buy goods.”
“I’m sorry for all this, old friend,” Yavtar said. “Should you need anything…”
“A few lapis lazuli will keep me in King Eridu’s favor, for now at least. But in the future, who can tell? Perhaps one day I may wish to move to Akkad myself.” He smiled at Yavtar across the table. “Well, there is nothing more I can tell you, but I think you’ve learned what you came for. At least our business is well concluded. Now it is time to feast. The lamb should be fully cooked by now, and there is some fine wine cooling in my cellar.”
“My thanks to you, Gemama. You will always be welcome in Akkad. Though I think I will return there with a heavy heart.”
“But with a full stomach.” The Sumerian extended his arm across the table. “And a head swimming in wine.”
Yavtar clasped Gemama’s arm, the age-old gesture of friendship. “Then let two old friends celebrate a successful voyage.”
“May it not be the last one, for either of us.”
2
That same day…
The afternoon sun drifted toward the horizon as Eskkar, ruler of the city of Akkad, galloped his horse down the gentle slope to rejoin his commanders and their men. Tall and powerfully built, he carried a long sword slung over his shoulder. Dark brown hair, fastened with a strip of leather, almost reached his shoulders. People seldom noticed the thin scar, scarcely visible after so many years, that marked one cheek. Instead their eyes were drawn to the broad face and strong jaw that marked him as a child of the northern steppes. His grim countenance and penetrating brown eyes tended to make strangers uneasy in his presence. They sensed a remnant of the fierce barbarian that still dwelt beneath the surface.
Eskkar’s face provided no clue to his thoughts. In his long years as an outcast and wandering sword for hire, he’d learned to keep his emotions from showing. But Eskkar’s companion and bodyguard, Grond, who rode beside him, had less control over his features. Frustration showed clearly on his face.
After leaving Akkad, it had taken five days of hard traveling to reach the border and take up the pursuit. Then for three more days, Eskkar, his Akkadian archers, and a small force of horsemen had searched the low hills and gentle valleys for the bandits who had terrorized and ravaged Akkad’s southern border. The soldiers had waded through high grass or rocky ground as they trudged up and down the headlands in pursuit of the band of horsemen who somehow managed to stay just out of reach. The chase had wearied everyone. The eight days of constant marching at such a fast pace had taken its toll even on their sturdy legs.
Eskkar and Grond reached the base of the ridge and rode toward the Akkadian soldiers. Most lay sprawled about on the ground, winded from a long climb up yet another in the seemingly endless hills and grateful for every chance to rest. Only Hathor the Egyptian remained mounted, waiting for Eskkar’s approach. Hathor commanded the thirty horsemen that comprised Eskkar’s mounted force. They’d spent most of the day searching for the bandits, or riding patrols to prevent an ambush. The rest of the Akkadian force consisted of eighty-one archers.
“Are the scouts back yet?” Eskkar hooked his leg over his horse and slid to the ground, handing the halter to one of the camp boys, who dashed up to take the king’s mount. The boys, who had no status and received no pay, followed the soldiers and helped tend to the horses, all for the privilege of helping Akkad’s fighters.
Hathor glanced toward the rear of the column, where the last two of his scouts had just crested a hilltop. “They’re coming in now, Captain.”
The soldiers who had fought beside Eskkar the last three years called him Captain, from the days when he’d been Captain of the Guard. The city dwellers in Akkad called him Lord Eskkar, while those in the surrounding villages called him king. Those who merely disliked his rule called him an uncouth barbarian. His enemies used worse language. Some claimed he was a demon summoned from the deepest subterranean fire pits by his witch-
