61

In Sumer, the days rushed by, each filled with excitement. The war talk dominated every conversation. Rumors abounded about King Shulgi’s army, its mighty size and power, its rapid march to the north. Everyone spoke proudly of how the other Sumerian cities already acknowledged Sumer’s leadership. Others boasted about the coming destruction of Akkad and the creation of a mighty Sumerian Empire that stretched between the two rivers all the way to the far north.

When word of the fall of Kanesh arrived, the city’s inhabitants celebrated. The fertile fields of the north would soon supply Sumer’s every need, and slaves from the Akkadian lands would abound in the slave market.

Nevertheless, many suffered hardship. With the resumption of hostilities, trading ceased almost at once. Every boat that arrived at the docks was taken into King Shulgi’s service, as the soldiers commandeered every craft. Wine and ale, grain and bread, chickens and herd animals, all were rushed aboard boats and sent north. Since the only vessels moving on the river carried cargoes to support King Shulgi’s army, food supplies within Sumer grew scarce. Queen Kushanna’s men had already emptied the city’s storage places to feed the ravenous army. And still supply caravans departed each day, taking what little remained and collecting supplies along the way.

The shortages caused every merchant to raise prices, though few buyers had enough coins remaining to purchase anything but necessities. Even En-hedu’s massages slowed, as the tight-fisted upper classes, staggering under Kushanna’s ever-rising taxes, ordered their pampered women to cut back. Without a steady supply of ale, business at the Kestrel dropped off as well, and En-hedu and Tammuz suddenly found they had plenty of time on their hands.

Still, the mood in Sumer remained jubilant until the ninth day after the start of hostilities. Late in the afternoon, boatmen returning from Kanesh reported the disquieting news that Eskkar’s army had slipped by King Shulgi’s forces at Kanesh. The Akkadians were reputed to be marching toward Larsa or possibly even Sumer. Before the sun set, word had reached every hut in every lane. Many refused to believe it. For the first time, worried looks appeared on many faces. The city’s soldiers doubled their efforts to strengthen the walls.

A king’s messenger arrived the next day demanding more troops. Half the city’s remaining garrison departed, ordered north to protect the caravans moving supplies. For En-hedu and Tammuz, that resulted in one piece of good tidings – Jarud was promoted to Captain of the Guard. He celebrated with his friends and companions at the Kestrel the next evening.

Three days later, a boat carrying no cargo docked with word of the fall of Larsa. The grim news swept through Sumer. Over the next few days, more reports arrived, many of them conflicting, all of them adding shocking details about the destruction of Larsa. King Shulgi remained in pursuit of Eskkar’s forces, but now that meant little to the city’s inhabitants. Rumors insisted that the Akkadians were on the march to Sumer, intending to tear down the walls and kill everyone within.

The inhabitants started hoarding what little they had. Many shops and stalls in the lanes closed. Dozens left the city, before Queen Kushanna ordered the gates closed. No one was allowed to depart the city without her permission. The mood in Sumer turned sullen, as hard-eyed messengers from King Shulgi returned and departed, forbidden by Kushanna to speak to any. Desperate people, trapped in the city without any means of livelihood, formed gangs that roamed the lanes at night, searching for anything of value or even food to eat.

The gloom worsened when Sumer learned of the raid on Uruk, the city burned and its inhabitants driven into the countryside by Eskkar’s horsemen, who had magically appeared out of the desert, wreaked their havoc, and disappeared. Everyone agreed that the king of Akkad was a demon from the underworld. How else could his armies be in so many places, and move about unopposed?

Twenty days after the start of the war, horsemen arriving at midday brought word of a mighty battle outside Isin, and the destruction of the Akkadian army. Eskkar’s soldiers had been crushed and the survivors driven into the Euphrates to drown. The welcome news swept through the city like the fresh breeze from the Southern Sea. Smiling and relieved people gathered in the marketplace and outside the queen’s quarters to give thanks, happy to learn that their sons and husbands would soon be returning home victorious over their enemy. En-hedu and Tammuz cheered as loudly as any.

“This is bad,” Tammuz said when they were alone.

En-hedu shook her head. “No, it’s just another rumor. Even if Eskkar were defeated, he would not have let his army be completely destroyed. He’s far too good a fighter to let that happen. Eskkar may have lost a battle, but we mustn’t give up hope yet.”

That evening a good number of customers returned to the Kestrel, eager to drink to the success of Shulgi’s soldiers.

Later that night, as the raucous patrons began to depart, Jarud strode into the Kestrel accompanied by three of his men. En-hedu took in their scowling faces and felt her heart jump, afraid that she and Tammuz had been discovered. But the newly appointed Captain of the Guard called out for ale, and plenty of it, as he slumped onto a bench.

En-hedu carried a pitcher with the last of the night’s brew to the table, and filled everyone’s cups. “You look too serious to be celebrating, Captain. Is anything wrong?”

Jarud downed his ale before replying. “Nothing to celebrate.” He ignored her questioning look for a moment. “Damn all the demons! I just found out . . . you’ll hear the news soon enough.” He lowered his voice. “A handful of soldiers from the north arrived this evening.” He filled his cup. “Not soldiers any more! Rabble. King Shulgi’s army was defeated at Isin. King Naxos and the rest of his traitors refused to fight, and the Akkadian scum caught Shulgi unprepared. Our soldiers broke and ran. Hundreds, maybe thousands are dead, including the king.”

Eyes wide, En-hedu sank down on the bench beside Jarud. “Are you sure? I mean . . .”

“I’m sure. I spoke to some of the scum myself. The army was . . .” Jarud couldn’t find words to describe what he felt.

Tammuz joined them, and she whispered the news to him. It didn’t matter. The remaining patrons needed only a look at Jarud and his companions to guess the worst. Then faint shouts from the lane could be heard. The news had already begun to spread.

En-hedu clasped her hands to her bosom. “The gods preserve us! What will happen now?”

“Who knows?” Jarud shrugged. “Whenever he’s ready, Eskkar will march on Sumer. The last messenger brought news that Isin has changed sides and is now supporting the Akkadians. King Naxos will allow free passage across his lands, the filthy coward.”

“Sumer will not fall,” En-hedu declared. “It’s walls are high . . .”

“Larsa fell, and Uruk, too. The other cities will not come to our aid now. Like Isin, they’ll rush to make their peace with Akkad. On Kushanna’s orders, I sealed the city, to keep everyone within, but that’s not going to work for long. With Eskkar on the march, everyone will want to flee.”

No longer “Queen” Kushanna, En-hedu noted. Just the woman’s name, spoken unflatteringly. “Perhaps things are not as bad as we think. Tomorrow may bring better news.” But in her heart, and for the first time, En-hedu started to believe that Eskkar had succeeded.

She rose and fetched two more cups, and she and Tammuz joined in with Jarud, consuming the last of the ale, and all of them wondering what word would arrive tomorrow.

Just before dawn, Kushanna raged at the wretched soldier cringing before her, his right arm bound in a clumsy sling. A leader of twenty, he’d ridden through the night to bring his news. “My husband is dead? You saw him fall?”

“Yes, my queen. He fought with Eskkar and was slain. King Shulgi fought well, but the barbarian was too strong. Afterwards, the Akkadian king spared my life. He set many of us free, gave us horses, and told us all to deliver word of Shulgi’s defeat and death to you. And to tell you that he is coming to destroy Sumer.”

Of all those given the message, only this man had bothered to return. Probably the others had already disappeared into the countryside.

“And our army? How many men remain to fight? When will they return?”

The subcommander shook his head. “Not many escaped. Sumer’s soldiers fought to the last, even when the other contingents lay down their weapons. However many survived, it will not be enough to stop the Akkadians. They fought like demons, my queen, attacking our men despite their few numbers.”

She cared nothing about how either side had fought. “How long before Eskkar arrives?”

“A few days, four or five at most. I expect his horsemen will be here tomorrow. They were already preparing to ride south when I and the others left. The main force won’t be far behind.”

Kushanna tried to control the sinking sensation in her stomach. How had this happened? How could everything have gone so horribly wrong? Twenty thousand men defeated by a handful? “Get out. All of you, get out!”

She turned away, ignoring them, and stepped onto the balcony. The courtyard appeared different, and she realized that many of the soldiers who should have been standing guard had gone, slipping away in the night as soon as they heard the news. The morning would find more deserters abandoning their posts.

“Damn you, Shulgi, you fool!”

Kushanna took a deep breath, and tried to control her rage. She needed to think. Something must be done. She could leave the city, but where could she go that Trella’s agents wouldn’t find her? Nippur and Lagash wouldn’t take her in, and there would soon be a bounty on her head. Trella knew of Kushanna’s involvement in the war, and wouldn’t rest until she’d been captured or killed. Besides, who could she trust to protect her if she ran? Whoever Kushanna turned to would want her gold and jewels more than they wanted her body, and she would be helpless to protect either of them.

Sumer might be held, at least for a time, perhaps long enough to wring some concession from Eskkar. But another look at the quiet courtyard convinced her that wouldn’t happen. Without enough fighting men to man the walls, the soldiers wouldn’t continue the battle for her. They’d throw down their weapons at first sight of Eskkar’s riders.

In fact, the longer she thought, the more she realized only one man could save her: Eskkar. The king of Akkad. Kushanna would have to turn him to her side. She had dominated every man she’d ever met, and had no doubt that she would succeed with the barbarian king. It would take some doing, but perhaps it could be managed.

She thanked the gods that she hadn’t killed Trella’s brother. Now the half-witted slave might prove useful. She would send word to the farm and have him delivered to her.

By the time Kushanna worked out what to do, the first rays of the sun broke into the morning sky. She left her chambers and descended to the courtyard, grateful to see at least a few loyal soldiers still awaiting her commands. Her eyes rested on Jarud, the new Captain of the Guard.

“Jarud! Round up every one of the nobles, every merchant, every trader.” She rattled off the names of Sumer’s wealthiest. “Bring them here at once. Make sure you find every one.” They would protest, but that didn’t matter. “And spread the word throughout the city. I will speak to the people at mid-morning in the marketplace. Go! And do not fail. Sumer’s fate may rest on how well you obey my commands.”

And more important, her own.

En-hedu and Tammuz arrived at the marketplace well before mid-morning, determined to get a good place to stand and hear Queen Kushanna’s words. Rimaud joined them, as much to keep them safe as to hear the queen speak. With the city in an ugly mood, Rimaud wore his sword, and Tammuz carried his knife on his belt.

Others arrived early as well, and soon at least eight or nine hundred people of all ages packed their way into the marketplace, with more arriving every moment. Everyone had questions, and shouts echoed back and forth as people sought to learn what had happened. Many had news, probably most of it wrong, to share with whomever would listen. En-hedu shook her head at their foolishness.

Mid-morning came and went before Jarud and ten soldiers arrived, escorting thirteen of Sumer’s richest men. Some showed bruises and marks on their face and arms, so En-hedu knew they hadn’t come willingly. Every one of them had sullen looks on their faces. She saw Merchant Gemama there, along with Puzur-Amurri, and Jamshid, Bikku’s husband. En-hedu had given massages to most of their women.

She leaned closer to Tammuz. “Too bad I never got invited to service Kushanna.” She fingered the knife under her dress.

The crowd – now numbering close to two thousand – surged forward, shouting questions at the merchants, demanding to know what had happened. The former leaders of Sumer stared at the angry people confronting them, but said nothing.

“They’ve been ordered not to speak,” Tammuz said.

“Queen Kushanna had better arrive soon,” En-hedu whispered. “The people are getting angry. There aren’t enough soldiers here to control this many.”

They both sensed the rising tension. No one enjoyed standing around in the hot sun, which added to the crowd’s anger. The smell from so many bodies filled the still air. The incensed mutterings grew louder and angrier. The soldiers glanced at each other and fingered their weapons.

“Where is our army?” An old man shouted the question with a quavering voice. “What happened to my sons?”

Everyone joined in, and soon the crowd began to shift and move under the pressure of so many struggling to make themselves heard.

“This could get out of hand,” Tammuz said. “Stay close to me.”

A column of eight soldiers strode down the lane, shoving anyone in their path out of the way. Queen Kushanna walked in their midst, wearing one of her finest gowns, her hair combed and arrayed. She wore a necklace of pearls, gold rings on her fingers and bracelets on her arms. Her escort started for the top of the market, but she halted them. Too many people blocked the way. “Stop here. I’ll speak to them from here.”

Kushanna ignored both the people and their cries for answers. A soldier carried over a stool, and helped her step onto it, so Kushanna could be seen and heard. She stared at the crowd, and waited until the din had died down.

“People of Sumer. People of Sumer. Hear me.” Her melodious voice quieted the crowd. “I bring you evil tidings. Our army has been defeated by the Akkadians.”

En-hedu noted the use of just the name, no longer demons or barbarians.

“Our king, my husband, is dead. Now the Akkadian army marches toward Sumer.”

A groan went up from the crowd, along with a few curses.

“To save our city, and protect your lives, I will offer a ransom of gold to King Eskkar when he arrives. These men,” Kushanna lifted her shapely arm to point at the nobles under Jarud’s guard, “will be required to give up their wealth to save the city. With all their gold and possessions, and what little is left of King Shulgi’s goods, we should be able to raise at least a thousand gold coins.”

A cheer burst forth at the nobles’ discomfort. “Let the bastards pay!” Others grew angry, as they grasped the size of the merchants’ wealth, flaunted at them while they went hungry.

Kushanna raised her arm again to quiet the now angry mob. “To ensure that Sumer and your safety is protected, I will also offer myself to King Eskkar, begging him to spare our city. I will kneel before him and throw myself at his mercy. King Eskkar has shown forgiveness in the past. Now I will sacrifice myself to save your lives, and to save our city. And I will present him with the gift of the brother of Lady Trella, who we rescued from the mines.”

Cheers greeted the news, the first bit of hope they’d been offered.

En-hedu exchanged a brief glance with Tammuz. Neither of them had ever heard that Trella had a brother.

Listening to the crowd, En-hedu decided that Kushanna might just manage to do it. She would win over the mob with the sacrifice of the nobles. With more than a little apprehension, En-hedu wondered if Eskkar would fall under Kushanna’s spell. The woman was indeed a witch.

A shrill voice broke through the clamor. “You murdered my sons! I had three sons, and now they’re all dead!”

An old woman with long gray hair hanging limp around her face had pushed her way through the crowd, shoving grown men aside. She flung a stone at Kushanna, only a few paces away, narrowly missing the queen, whose eyes went wide in surprise. No one had ever dared raise a hand toward her.

The woman refused to be silent. “You sent them all to their deaths!” She reached down and scooped up a handful of dirt and threw that as well.

A soldier stepped forward and struck the woman in the face with the haft of his spear, knocking her back into the arms of those behind. Whatever sympathy the crowd had started to give Kushanna vanished in a moment.

“Murderers! She sent our husbands to their deaths!”

The soldiers lowered their spears and pushed the now angry crowd back, while a frowning Queen Kushanna looked on, her lips clenched in anger at the insolence. The throng of people pushed and shoved, moving in all directions, everyone cursing and shouting.

En-hedu realized what could happen. This crowd could be turned. Her elbow jabbed Tammuz in the ribs. “Death to the queen!” She yelled the words with all her strength. “Death to those murderers who led us to war! Death to the queen!”

Tammuz, shocked at his wife’s outburst, took a moment to grasp the situation. Then he, too, joined in. “Death to the queen! Death to those who betrayed us!” In a moment, every voice in the marketplace repeated the same words.

The soldiers, greatly outnumbered, hesitated at the sudden ferocity from the mass of men and women facing them. Most of Sumer’s remaining soldiers guarded the gates and the wall. And Queen Kushanna’s guards were not hardened veterans. Most were either too young or too old to go off to war, and none had ever seen naked anger and hatred such as this.

The crowd saw the doubt and fear on their faces. A wave of people surged forward, as ten, fifty, a hundred voices joined in, all shouting death to Queen Kushanna.

Tammuz pushed his way to the front. “Death to Kushanna!” A soldier tried to hold him back, but Tammuz’s knife lashed out, and the guard staggered back, his nose broken by the weapon’s hilt. A few people in front died, impaled on the spears, but the screaming mob now could not be stopped. “Death to Kushanna!” The words came from every voice, and this time the cry didn’t stop.

Chaos erupted. The people of Sumer had been demeaned and crushed down for many years, and now they saw a chance for their revenge. The soldiers grasped the situation, too. Many shrank aside, others dropped their spears. Some turned toward the queen, as eager to strike as any of the mob. The nobles, released by the captors, added their voices to the din.

Jarud saw the danger. He abandoned the nobles and closed up his men around the queen, shouting at his soldiers to keep together. Enough heeded his words. In moments, they formed a protective ring around Kushanna. They struggled and shoved their way through the clawing mob, moving toward the lane that had brought Kushanna into the marketplace. A few more steps and . . .

En-hedu saw Kushanna slipping away. She ducked low, practically slithering between the legs of the crowd shrieking hatred and venom above her. Then she saw the legs of the soldiers forcing their way forward, then the hem of Kushanna’s gown. Rising up, En-hedu’s long arm stretched out. She meant to strike at Kushanna’s heart, but an unheeding arm knocked the blade down, and instead the weapon sank to the hilt just above the queen’s hip, before it was wrenched from En-hedu’s hand by the forward momentum of the guards. Kushanna’s scream could scarcely be heard in all the confusion. Because the stroke landed so low, none of the soldiers realized what had happened.

Only one man saw En-hedu strike – Jarud.

Her knife gone, En-hedu moved back, trying to return to Tammuz’s side. A dozen paces away, her husband pushed and shoved against the nearly unmovable mass of people to reach her. She looked back, and saw Jarud knocking people aside, determined to get his hands on her. En-hedu struggled as hard as she could, trying to move away from Jarud. But the Captain of the Guard was bigger and stronger, and the crowd gave way before him as he forced his way closer.

Looking up, she saw the nobles fighting the angry crowd for their own lives. Stones and clods of dirt flew through the air. Gemama had both arms raised, trying to protect his head from the people’s wrath. The sight gave En-hedu another idea.

“Gemama for king! Gemama for king!” She snapped her gaze at Tammuz. The soldiers escorting Kushanna had pushed their way clear, dragging the faltering queen with them. Jarud had moved almost within arm’s length.

“Gemama for king!” Unable to reach his wife through the surging mob, Tammuz bellowed the words. “Gemama for king!” Rimaud took up the cry, and others joined in, a few at first, then dozens and more.

At the head of the market, Gemama lowered his hands, looking at the shouting mob, as surprised as anyone. At least the stones pelting him and the other nobles ceased. His eyes sought the place where the call started, and he picked out En-hedu and Tammuz.

“Gemama will save us!” En-hedu shouted the words as loud as she could.

Those standing beside Gemama stopped their attacks. One man, his anger vanished in a heartbeat, grabbed the merchant’s arm and lifted it high. “Gemama will be our king!”

The sight of the stout merchant’s arm raised high turned the mood of the mob. “King Gemama! King Gemama!” The chant filled the marketplace, repeated again and again.

Jarud pushed aside the last of those blocking his way, and his hand closed on En-hedu’s shoulder with a grip of bronze. Tammuz and Rimaud struggled a few paces away, helpless to reach her side. The words “King Gemama” came from every voice now, along with appeals for him to save their city.

En-hedu saw Jarud’s sword jerked from its scabbard.

“Wait! Listen to me!” She leaned toward him, shouting the words into his face to make herself heard over the noise. “You will be commander of all of Sumer’s forces!” The sword’s tip reached her breast. “Gemama will need you! You will lead his soldiers! We can help you!” She tried to push herself away from the blade, but the crowd held her fast, swirling around the two of them. No one paid any attention to them. Every eye now remained fixed on Gemama, standing dazed before the chants of the crowd.

Two soldiers moved forward to protect the merchant, who now held both arms high.

Jarud’s eyes burned into hers, but he stayed his sword. He glanced at Gemama, then at her. Understanding came, as he worked out what had happened.

“Help him, Jarud!” she said. “To save Sumer, help him!”

Tammuz and Rimaud pushed their way to her side, both with weapons in their hands. Whether it was their presence or his own choice, Jarud lowered his weapon.

“Make way for the king’s men!” he shouted. “Soldiers, defend King Gemama! Protect Sumer’s king!”

Then he was gone, knocking people left and right until he reached the forefront, to clear the way for Gemama.

En-hedu breathed a sigh of relief and fell against her husband. Her heart still raced in her breast.

“Let’s get out of here,” Tammuz said. “Rimaud, lead the way home.”

They headed toward the same lane that Queen Kushanna had used. They pushed through the last of the crowd. A dozen paces farther, Kushanna lay in the dirt, a large pool of blood staining her dress and the ground beneath it. The pearl necklace and gold rings had vanished. Her guards had abandoned her.

En-hedu stared down in astonishment. Her knife stroke had managed to cut the big blood carrier. Queen Kushanna was dead.

The next day, at mid-afternoon, Hathor and four hundred horsemen appeared outside Sumer’s walls. They had made a fast passage, encountering no resistance and finding a steady source of supplies originally intended for King Shulgi. Now to Hathor’s surprise, he stared at Sumer’s walls and found them undefended, the gates standing open, and a delegation of the city’s inhabitants stepping outside the city and walking toward the Akkadians. Hathor halted his men just out of bowshot of the walls and waited.

A portly man led the way, a single armed soldier accompanying him, but Hathor’s gaze went to the dozen or so frightened men and women walking respectfully behind. Only two strode upright and met his eyes unafraid. Hathor saw the hint of a smile on Tammuz’s lips, while the slight incline of En-hedu’s head told Hathor everything he needed to know.

The man leading the little troop stopped a few steps from the Akkadians. He announced himself as King Gemama. He offered to surrender the city and pay a ransom if they would spare Sumer and its inhabitants. He pleaded for mercy, and blamed the war on Shulgi and his evil wife, both dead.

Gemama’s voice droned on, but Hathor scarcely heard him. The man’s words didn’t matter. Later on, Hathor would find an excuse to speak to En-hedu in private, and she would tell him what had happened and how to resolve Sumer’s future.

Whatever happened, King Eskkar would get quite a shock. Sumer taken without a battle, Queen Kushanna dead, a ransom offered, and all with En-hedu and Tammuz standing directly behind the city’s new king and the leader of his guards. Incredible.

Perhaps, Hathor decided, the gods of Egypt did have power even this far east of the Nile. They had stayed his hand and spared Tammuz’s life. That mercy had saved Hathor’s own life, and in time delivered Cnari into his arms. No man, it seems, could fathom the ways of those who ruled the heavens above and earth below. The conflict between Sumer and Akkad had ended, and neither Hathor nor any of his men needed to risk their lives in battle any more.

Hathor offered a silent prayer to the mighty Egyptian god Ra for this new gift of life. Then, just to be certain, Hathor muttered the same prayer to every single one of the gods that held sway over the land of the Nile.