Sam Barone: Clash Of Empires

The advisors had originally numbered six, but a few days after taking power, Jedidia had sentenced two of them to death by torture for their insults to him in the past. Then he confiscated all their goods, using their wealth to reward his favorite commanders and most loyal soldiers. Now the surviving advisors dared not raise their eyes to their new Lord.

Filling the space directly in front of King Jedidia stood eleven subdued merchants and wealthy traders, those who had suffered the most serious losses from last night’s raid. Despite their apprehension, their voices soon rose in bitter protests, as they listed their damages — fourteen river boats sunk or destroyed, including six of the larger, sea-going vessels.

Only three of those had actually sunk. The rest had burned to the water line, and would never set sail again. The Akkadian pirates had also put to the torch nine barges and a handful of smaller craft. One of the larger transports might possibly be saved.

Several of the grieving ship owners dared to raise their voices. They demanded gold to pay for their losses, and protection from future raids, as if Jedidia could, at a moment’s notice, conjure up fighting vessels and crews to equal those of the Akkadians. He let the complaints go on for a time, until he could stand their jabbering no longer.

“Silence! There will be no compensation! In war, men die, and ships and cargoes are lost. Blame the dog Shirudukh, who led the Empire into this war, then failed to win it. Deal with it as best you can.”

Jedidia did promise that more soldiers would guard the docks day and night, as if that futile gesture meant anything. With nothing left worth burning in Sushan, the Akkadians wouldn’t be back for months, if they bothered to return at all. By now the enemy boats had resumed their patrols at the mouth of the river, the entrance to the Great Sea. Their presence on that station had already prevented any ships from entering Sushan’s harbor from the southern waters for almost thirty days, and ensured that none would be arriving in the foreseeable future.

For a city that depended greatly on trade and supplies from the Great Sea, that lack of commerce would cause suffering and shortages for as long as the enemy ships remained off the mouth of the river. Each day brought bitter complaints from the buyers and sellers in the marketplace. A new word had sprung up to describe the fleet of Akkadian ships menacing the city — blockade.

When the merchants’ complaints silenced, Jedidia ordered all of them out, leaving only the four men who had previously advised King Shirudukh. By Jedidia’s command, they now performed the same service to their new ruler. Whether they could come up with something useful remained to be seen. The advisors had said nothing while the boat owners vented their frustration, though they, too, as men of wealth, had suffered grievous losses from the Akkadian attack.

But before the doors to Jedidia’s Council Room could close behind the last departing trader, another commander entered. The man halted ten paces from Jedidia, bowed low, and waited to be recognized.

“Yes, what is it now?” Jedidia couldn’t keep the anger from his voice.

“My Lord, a man came to the Palace gates not long ago. He requested an immediate audience, and claimed he speaks for the Akkadians.”

King Jedidia glanced at his advisors, but they appeared just as surprised. He wondered what fool would dare to enter his presence after last night’s raid. “Bring the man in.”

The commander left the chamber for a few moments. He returned half-dragging a prisoner by the shoulder. The man’s hands were bound before him, and a large bruise discolored his left cheek. His once white tunic, covered with dirt and grass stains, attested to his rough treatment.

The oldest of the advisors, a wealthy merchant named Shesh-kala, chuckled at the sight, and Jedidia saw smiles on the faces of the other three. Obviously they recognized the captive.

“Who are you?” Jedidia’s voice cut through the chamber, and his angry visage ended the grins.

“One of your most loyal subjects, My Lord.” The man bowed. “My name is Kedor of Sushan. I’m a trader. I’ve lived here for almost forty years, when I’m not aboard my boat.”

“You claim to speak for the Akkadian scum who burned our ships?”

“No, My King.” Kedor bowed again. “Your soldiers, in their haste, misunderstood my words. I told them I bore a message from the King of Akkad, to be given only to King Jedidia of Sushan and ruler of the Elamite Empire.”

Jedidia glanced toward his advisors, but no one met his eyes. The prisoner. . Kedor?. . waited patiently.

“How did you come by this message from the Akkadians?”

“My King, I was taken prisoner by the Akkadians at the beginning of the war, at the supply cove, just south of Sumer. The enemy swept down on the beach, killed everyone, and captured all the boats and supplies.”

Jedidia had heard all about that surprise attack, and how the cunning Akkadians had emerged undetected from the impassable foothills to fall upon the landing site. After that, the destruction of Grand Commander Chaiyanar and his invading army had inevitably followed. At least the Sumerians had rid Jedidia of one problem — Chaiyanar’s death solidified Jedidia’s grip on the Elamite kingship. “And yet you survived?”

“Yes, My Lord. I’d taken refuge underneath some sacks of cargo on my boat. By the time I was discovered, the killing had stopped, and the bulk of the Akkadian horsemen had moved on, to attack our soldiers besieging Sumer. The Akkadians left a few hundred men to sail the boats. Their leader, a man named Daro, is one of King Eskkar’s senior commanders. He took charge of the vessels, and has been using them to capture and sink our ships ever since. Daro is the man who led the raid last night that burned our ships. He set me ashore, just before his ships departed, to deliver the message.”

“And why are you so favored by our enemies?” Jedidia’s snarling words would have intimidated anyone. “Perhaps I should have your tongue removed for daring to speak for them.”

Kedor ignored the threat. “After the Akkadians discovered I owned several boats, Daro held me aboard his ship for ransom. When word arrived of Eskkar’s victories over our forces at Sumer and the Dellen Pass, Commander Daro also received new orders. He decided instead to use me to carry the message from King Eskkar to My Lord.”

“Of course you decided to cooperate with the pirates?”

“My Lord, when you’re surrounded by dead bodies, and a grinning soldier puts a knife to your throat, you do what you’re told.” Kedor shook his head. “Besides, I had nothing of value to tell them. Their plans had been made months before. They knew about the landing cove, they knew there would be boats there, and they intended to capture those boats, and use them to cut the supply line from Sumer. Everything proved easier than they expected, and Commander Daro soon expanded his raids all the way to Sushan’s coast. They sank, by my count, at least thirteen boats, and captured another nine. With all their cargoes. They put every boat captain and seaman to death.”

Jedidia knew all about that, too. The loss of those experienced sailors and their knowledge of the Great Sea was devastating. With effective training, soldiers could be quickly replaced, but it took years for a man to learn a sailor’s skills. Even if Jedidia ordered the immediate construction of new ships, he would have no crews to sail them.

“My Lord, is there any reason to keep my hands tied?” Kedor raised his bound hands. “I am loyal to my King.”

“I’ll decide that,” Jedidia said. “What is the message?”

Dropping his hands in resignation, Kedor glanced at the advisors.