9

The next day, with mid-morning approaching, two members of the city’s guard finally found the man they sought. Orodes lay sleeping on his side, stretched out against the wall of a tavern, ignored by the people passing to and fro in the lane. Bodies in the lanes, drunk, sleeping, or dead, were not an uncommon sight. The guards, one a seasoned veteran named Wakannh, and the other much younger, almost walked past the inert body, before the senior man slowed his pace and stopped a few steps away.

“Wait. I think that’s the one she wants, and about time, too.” Wakannh crossed to the man and peered down. “I recognize him.” He prodded the unresponsive body with his toe. “Drunk and passed out. Get him on his feet.”

“I’m not carrying a drunk all the way to the compound by myself,” the younger guard protested.

“Carry him, drag him by his balls, I don’t give a shit what you do.” As a leader of ten, the older guard didn’t intend to waste any of his own muscles on a drunk. That’s what recruits were for. “Just get him moving.”

Muttering under his breath, the second guard rolled the still snoring Orodes onto his back. “Demons’ piss, the pig threw up on himself. Are you sure this is the one?”

Wakannh leaned over to look closer at the man’s dirt and vomit-crusted face. “Ugghh, he stinks. Someone’s pissed on him, too. But that’s Orodes.” He grabbed Orodes’s arm and together they yanked him to his feet, waking him up in the process. The groggy man tried to protest, but the two soldiers gripped Orodes by his arms and half-walking and half-dragging, led the helpless man away, to the amusement of those onlookers who stopped to watch.

Two lanes over, the leader of ten stopped beside one of the public wells. “Might as well clean him up here. No sense bringing anything that filthy into Lady Trella’s courtyard.”

The second man shoved Orodes head first into the trough that collected the water, and held him there until he coughed and choked, flailing his arms but unable to lift his head. When the guard jerked Orodes’s head up by his hair, he just hung there, helpless, too weak even to raise his arms. “What about his tunic? Stinks of piss and vomit. Probably full of lice, too.”

“Get rid of it,” Wakannh agreed. “It’s worse than nothing.”

The guard grasped the tunic with both hands and ripped it apart. Then he jerked the torn remnants from Orodes’s body and kicked them aside. “Wash yourself up, you pig.”

A few bystanders collected and laughed at the naked man’s plight.

“What are you . . . ?” Orodes squinted into the morning sun.

“Open your mouth again and I’ll cut your balls off,” Wakannh warned him. “Someone at the Compound wants you, so that’s where you’re going. They probably want to hang you by your puny prick for stinking up the city. Now clean yourself up or I’ll throw you down the well.”

The Compound, as anyone living in Akkad more than a day knew, referred to the residence of King Eskkar and Lady Trella.

The guards stood there, while Orodes splashed water over his face and chest again and again, until most of the dirt and stench had faded away. By the time he finished cleaning himself, Orodes appeared to have regained his senses.

“By Ishtar’s tits, I hope they do hang him by his prick,” the recruit said. “He still stinks.”

Orodes had never visited Lord Eskkar’s courtyard, but he had little time for more than a quick glance around. Wakannh had happily handed him over to the soldiers at the entrance, who enjoyed a good laugh at the naked man’s expense. But they found a cast-off garment for him to wear, and let him drink from the private well at the rear of the house. When he finished quenching his thirst, he washed his face and hands once again, this time more to help sober up than get clean. When he finished his ablutions, Orodes turned to find that the courtyard soldiers had departed and a woman taken their place. Even with his head feeling like it might split in two, he recognized Annok-sur’s tall frame.

“Do you have your wits about you?”

Orodes nodded, then grimaced at the movement. “What do you want? Why am I here?”

Annok-sur took a step toward him, examining him with care. “You’re here because Lady Trella wishes to speak with you. If you have some other important business to attend to, I’ll tell her so, and you can return to the tavern where they found you.”

Orodes ignored the jibe. Whatever the reason, few turned down an opportunity to speak with one of the rulers of Akkad. “I can talk.”

Annok-sur nodded agreement. “Good. Come with me.”

She led him into the house, pausing only to speak to one of the women servants, then led Orodes up the stairs and into the workroom.

“Sit down,” she said, pointing to the table. “Lady Trella will be here shortly.”

Orodes eased himself onto the bench, then looked up to see the servant approaching, carrying a tray in both her hands. It contained bread, a handful of dates, and a hunk of cheese only slightly past its best. Orodes realized he felt ravenous. He hadn’t eaten anything yesterday morning, before drinking himself into a stupor at the tavern. Two copper coins, stolen from a drunken patron, provided him with more than enough ale to drink himself unconscious.

By the time Orodes finished swallowing the first mouthful of bread, the serving woman returned with two cups. “Weak ale, and water.” She put them down and left the chamber.

He reached for the ale, then stopped. His hand shook, and for a moment he couldn’t control his muscles. Orodes closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and shifted his hand to the other cup. A meeting with Lady Trella was not the time to be drinking anything stronger than water.

When he finished eating, only crumbs from the bread and pits from the dates remained on the platter. Orodes allowed himself to take a small sip from the ale cup. His head had almost ceased throbbing.

The door to the inner room opened, and Lady Trella and Annok-sur came out. A child started crying in the background, but Annok-sur shut the door, and the sound faded. Remembering his manners, Orodes pushed himself to his feet and bowed.

“We’ve met before, Orodes,” Trella began. “Almost three years ago, when your father fashioned Eskkar’s new sword. You helped Asmar with the casting, as I recall.”

“I remember . . . Lady Trella. I’m surprised that you do.” Just before the barbarian invasion, Trella had visited Asmar’s shop. At first his father had tried to patronize the young slave girl dressed in a shabby garment. But by her third visit, Orodes realized that Trella not only knew exactly what she wanted, but how it should be made.

She sat across from him, and nodded for him to sit. “Since then, I’ve learned some things about you. Have you reconciled with your father?”

Master smith Asmar. Orodes clenched his teeth for a moment. So Lady Trella had spoken with his father. That meant she knew all about the family quarrel, and probably about the reasons for Orodes’s recent return to Akkad. He’d spent the last year and a half working at a mine in the eastern hill country operated by his uncle. Asmar and his brother both suffered from the same lack of imagination. Both believed the old ways were the best ways, and that the young should do as they were told. Orodes clashed so often with his uncle that he was finally ordered to leave. Otherwise he would still be there, slaving away for little more than his keep. He pushed those thoughts out of his mind.

“No. My father has ordered me never to return to his house.” If Lady Trella had summoned him to talk about his father, he would take his leave.

“Then I may have something that may interest you. As you may be aware, I know some of the mysteries of gold and the smelting of ores. I’ve learned of a place that may have a good quantity of gold. I need someone to examine the site, and report back to me. If there is sufficient ore of high quality, I may wish to establish a mine there, to extract the gold and anything else of value. Your father Asmar says you know much about such things.”

Orodes found it hard to believe that his father had said anything good about his wayward son. “There are several areas where copper can be found in the eastern foothills, Lady Trella,” Orodes said. “Even my father has laid claim to one such place with the Chief Judge.”

Copper, of course, was the most important metal. With copper and tin, combined in the right proportion, you could make bronze, and from bronze came tools and weapons. Where you found copper ores, you usually also found traces of gold, silver, lead, tin, and arsenic, as well as other useful metals. Each site would have these metals in varying qualities and quantities. But all the mines were in the far north at the base of the steppes, or the distant east, in the foothills of the Zargos Mountains.

“I know. But the place I’m speaking of is much closer to Akkad, and it is to the north-west.”

Orodes shook his head. “There is little enough copper near here. You might find a few pockets of gold along the Tigris, but most of those have already been harvested.”

“Still, I would like someone to examine this place and determine its potential. If there is sufficient supply of the noble metals, I might need a skilled smith to establish the mining operation. I’m told that you have the necessary knowledge for such a task. Is this something you would consider?”

Orodes would indeed. His father had driven him from his house partly because Orodes, in his twenty-third season, had already mastered all the mysteries of gold, copper and bronze. He also wanted to change his father’s procedures for smelting the ores and refining the metals. Orodes believed that with some experimentation he could improve those procedures, and produce higher-quality metals in greater quantities.

Asmar, a capable and skillful metal worker, saw no reason to change anything in his craft, or try anything new. Father and son had disagreed often, until Asmar in his anger sent the disobedient son east to his brother’s mine, where Orodes was supposed to remain until he learned to be a dutiful son, obedient to his father and elder brothers. Or, as it happened, until the master smith at the mine grew so annoyed at Orodes’s constant and vexatious suggestions that he threw him out.

Of course, Trella would know all these embarrassing facts. Her spies, as everyone agreed, knew everything about every household in the city. And, of course, she knew about copper and where it was likely to be found. Telling her she might be wrong probably wasn’t a good idea. He focused his gaze on her eyes. She sat there patiently, letting him collect his thoughts, waiting for him to realize the full import of the conversation. He noticed that her eyes never left his face, always seeking to learn more about him. Those same eyes also hinted that she knew more than she said.

The silence lengthened, and he realized that he hadn’t answered her question. “Yes, Lady Trella, I can examine a prospective mining site, and tell you what’s worth digging for. With the proper resources, I can establish the smelters, kilns, crucibles and furnaces, and convert the ores into the required metals.”

Trella nodded. “All the gold and silver from the mine would come to Akkad, but the master smith in charge of the site would be well paid. How well paid would depend on what is found, and how much can be taken from the earth. Are you interested in such a task?”

Orodes opened his mouth, then closed it again. Those who oversaw a mine usually owned at least a part of it. Trella was offering to pay him for his skills, like any common laborer. Still, it was not an unreasonable offer considering he had no status as a master craftsman, no patron to succor him. He decided to ask for more. “What share of the mine would be mine, Lady Trella?”

She smiled at the bold question. “None. Not at first. You would be paid fairly, but if you wish to earn a share you will have to produce a steady and significant supply of ores, delivered on time, and without any being lost to the workers. If you can accomplish that, I would consider an arrangement where you would own a share of the mine’s output in the future. As I said, this mine belongs to the king, and whatever is extracted from the earth will be used for Akkad’s needs. And in selecting you for this task, I am taking something of a risk.”

He would be a paid laborer, nothing more. Nevertheless, anything was preferable to starving in the streets of Akkad. And it would gall his father to learn that his wayward son had taken an important assignment from Lady Trella, even if it turned out to be nothing. “I would accept such a task, Lady Trella.”

She turned to Annok-sur, who sat quietly across the room, apparently uninterested in the conversation. “Can you bring in Tooraj?”

Without saying anything, Annok-sur rose and left the room.

“You realize, Orodes,” Trella went on, “that there must be no drinking, no wandering off, and not a word must be said to anyone about the mine. The first time you are found drunk will be your last. Remember that.”

Orodes understood. Only a fool would risk Trella’s displeasure. Besides, he drank only because he had nothing else. With an opportunity such as she offered, he would have no need to drink himself into a stupor.

Annok-sur returned, a soldier with the Hawk Clan emblem stitched on his tunic following her. The man wore a patch over his left eye.

Trella rose. “Welcome Tooraj. It is good to see you again.”

Orodes felt surprise. The queen of Akkad had risen to her feet to greet a common soldier. Or not so common, he realized. Members of the Hawk Clan were few in number.

The soldier bowed, much lower than Orodes’s simple incline of the head. “My thanks to you and King Eskkar.”

“This is the young man I spoke of. His name is Orodes, and I place him in your care.”

That sounded reasonable enough, but the cold stare that Tooraj’s one eye fixed on Orodes made him realize that the soldier not only knew of Orodes’s past indiscretions, but didn’t intend to tolerate any more of them.

She said to Orodes. “Tooraj will be in charge of the expedition to examine the mine. Please obey all his instructions.” She turned to the soldier. “Are you ready to depart?”

“Yes, Lady Trella. My men and I are waiting.”

“Good. Annok-sur will accompany you both to the docks. If there is anything you need to take with you, Orodes, let her know.”

With a shock, Orodes realized that they meant leave now, this moment. Realizing he had been dismissed, Orodes pushed himself to his feet, to find Lady Trella again smiling at him.

“Good luck, Orodes. I hope we can talk again soon, when you’re ready to tell me what you’ve found.”

Her smile, as much as her hopeful words, caught him by surprise. In that moment, he realized how beautiful she was, and how much he wanted to please her. The strange sensation stayed with him all the way to the docks.