Sam Barone: Battle For Empire

“Not for many years, yet, I hope.”

His friend’s voice showed his feelings. Eskkar clasped the Egyptian on the shoulder. “Not for many years.” Then the smile faded from Eskkar’s face. “And now that we have our northern border secure, we can prepare for the Elamites.”

Hathor’s smile faded. “What can we do? We have no way to strike at them. And if they see us making preparations for war, they may attack even sooner.”

“Much as I might wish to attack them, you’re right, it would be unwise.” Eskkar sighed. “Trella says that first we must learn as much as we can about the Elamites. She and Annok-sur were already making plans when these Carchemishi came. They wanted Yavtar to establish a trading House in Sumer, to trade with Elam.”

“Then by now she may have discovered some way to gain knowledge of their armies and their plans,” Hathor said. “We need to know as much as we can about their tactics and training.”

“Trella will discover what we need to know, I’m sure of it. And make sure we are ready to meet Elamites when the time comes. What is that saying of your Egyptians? If you want peace, prepare for war. That is where we must now turn our attentions. Perhaps even Sargon will play a role in the coming conflict.”

The Elamite city of Sushan. .

Seven months after a once-again triumphant Eskkar returned to Akkad, Daro, Commander of Akkad’s river archers, leaned against a portico column and watched the spectacle unfolding in Sushan’s marketplace. A handful of soldiers dragged the pathetic prisoner, his hands already bound, into the central space, and tied him to the punishment post.

One of the guards threaded a rope over a hook at the top of the post, and a few hard pulls lifted the victim upright, his hands stretched over his head and his feet barely making contact with the ground.

Daro brushed his long brown hair away from his eyes and waited, expecting the punishment to begin, but nothing happened. The man, covered with bruises and marks from the lash, hung there, slack jawed, and clearly in pain.

“What crime did he commit?” Daro directed his question to the harbor guard assigned to escort him through the city. Sushan had many rules restricting foreigners, and unless one wanted to end up in the Elamite Army or worse, an official protector as well as a guide was required.

“Sabatu? They said it was treason,” the guard, a man named Callis replied. “But others say King Shirudukh desired his wife. Sabatu used to be a High Commander in King Shirudukh’s army. For the last five or six days, they’ve dragged him into the market for pubic torture.”

“Why don’t they just kill him?” Daro glanced around, taking in the crowded market. Not many evinced interest in the proceedings.

“Oh, they will. But first the soldiers make him watch each day while they torture one of his family to death. After that, they give him another taste of the whip until he passes out. Then they drag him back to the barracks until the next day.”

For the last six months, Daro had labored night and day, becoming fluent in the language of Elam and learning all he could about the land, its customs, and most of all, its military forces. A High Commander, Daro knew, had authority over at least five hundred soldiers. That meant the man had served in Shirudukh’s army for many years.

Interested now, Daro studied the prisoner. He couldn’t guess the man’s age, but he appeared young. That likely meant someone who’d risen quickly through the ranks by reason of his ability, or the scion of some noble family.

A murmur passed through the crowd, and four more soldiers appeared, escorting a portly man who wore the scarlet scarf, symbol of Sushan’s rulers, over one shoulder. One of the soldiers carried a crying child carelessly flung over his shoulder.

“Who’s that?”

Callis shook his head. “Some lazy scribe from the Grand Commander’s Compound. Too many to remember their names. Butt-lickers, all of them. This one’s in charge of the prisoner’s punishment.”

The title “Grand Commander” referred to Grand Commander Chaiyanar, the ruler of the city of Sushan. Chaiyanar also commanded a large army under King Shirudukh, the ruler of the Elamite Empire.

Despite his interest, Daro didn’t press Callis for more information. The man seemed slow of wit, but one could never be sure. The Harbor Master, another lackey of the Grand Commander, might take the trouble to question Callis about what the foreign demon from Sumeria talked about.

The child’s high pitched scream brought Daro’s gaze back to the prisoner. The soldier had lifted the sobbing child, a boy about nine or ten seasons old, and now held him in front of his father’s battered face. The terrified child reached out to touch his father, but the guard held him just out of reach. The sight of his son drove the lethargy from the prisoner, and he thrashed helplessly against his tight bindings.

The crowd watching, now about seventy or eighty people, reacted, laughing at the man’s suffering. A few jeers and taunts rose from those fascinated by the spectacle.

Every public death, every execution, Daro knew, always attracted a crowd eager to see someone die. Most of those viewing, of course, had never killed anyone in their lives, or battled against a well-armed and dangerous foe.

Daro had seen more than his share of death. He’d fought several times against Akkad’s enemies, and knew just how precious life was. And how easily it could be taken.

The boy’s torture started. The soldier took his slim arm in both of his, and snapped it like a dry stick. The child’s piteous wails turned into a shriek of pain that turned every head in the marketplace.

“First they break a few bones,” Callis said, “then they lash them to death.” He shook his head. “Not much use torturing them when they’re so young. Better just to kill them.”

The screams continued, the torturers encouraged by the crowd’s reaction. Daro decided it was time to move on. “Well, I’ve seen enough. Where is the famous Temple of Samas everyone talks about? They say it’s the finest temple in the world. I’d like to see that before I have to get back to my Master.”

Callis led the way through the crowd, ignoring both the torturers and their victims. The sounds soon faded as they passed out of the marketplace and followed the twisting lanes toward a hill topped with a large, white structure.

Daro listened attentively while Callis explained how Samas, the Ocean God, gave birth to the river that flowed to the sea from the City of Sushan. He didn’t seem to know much more than that, except that the priests demanded that everyone in Sushan must visit the temple every eight days, or face the wrath of Samas. The worshippers were expected to make an offering at each visit, of course.

“That’s why it’s so empty,” Callis said. “Unless someone needs a special favor, no one wants to pay the greedy priests.”

Following his guide around the structure, Daro marveled aloud at the height of the temple’s walls, and admired the ugly statues of the lesser gods standing in inserts carved in the outer walls. When the tour and lecture ended, Daro handed a copper coin to the hard-eyed priest, then knelt and offered his prayers to Samas for a safe voyage back across the Great Sea. When the prayer ended, he stood and brushed the dust from his bare knees.

“Now, friend Callis, I hear there are many fine wine houses in Sushan. Perhaps you can show me one or two of them, and we can sample their fares. But we must hurry, or my Master will be angry.”

For the first time since Callis had been assigned to show Daro the sights of Sushan, a smile appeared on his face. Lengthening their strides, they left the temple and its scant worshippers behind, and soon found a friendly wine seller. Daro, as the city’s guest, was allowed to buy several drinks for Callis, and after a time, a few of the other customers.