The woman bowed respectfully. Anyone who owned a business was ent.i.tled to a good deal of respect. "My name is Irkalla, and this is Anu, my daughter."

En-hedu guessed Anu had fourteen or fifteen seasons. She looked much like her mother, except Anu's eyes lacked the sharp wits that marked Irkalla's. The two women resembled sisters rather than mother and daughter, but that made no difference.

"The tavern is called the Kestrel, just off Dockside Lane, opposite the shop of Dragush the carpenter. If you perform your duties well, you'll have a place to sleep, and you can keep a third of what you make from the customers. All the copper will first be paid to me or my husband, of course."

If you let the girls collect the coins, they would try and cheat you, or disappear one night with some man, along with the evening's profits.

"A third is not much," Irkalla said. "Many taverns let the girls keep half their fees."

"If the girls are beautiful and very skilled." En-hedu lifted her hands and let them drop. "Have you worked in a tavern before?"

"I have . . . but not for many years," Irkalla answered, lowering her head.

En-hedu guessed Irkalla had thought about lying, but changed her mind. "Many taverns don't give their girls a place to sleep, or feed them twice a day. That is my offer. If you're not interested . . ."

"Forgive me, mistress," Irkalla said, using the usual sign of respect for any head of the household. "Yes, we are interested, as long as I can keep my daughter with me. She gets frightened easily. We would work very hard to please your customers. When can we start?"

"Today. Now. My husband will want to speak with you as well. He will explain exactly what will be expected from you both."

"Then we will follow you back to the . . . Kestrel, to meet your husband." Irkalla took Anu's hand, and smiled. "Give thanks to our new mistress."

"We thank you," Anu said, dutifully.

The poor girl didn't appear very happy, despite the prospect of having a roof over her head tonight. En-hedu led the way back to the Kestrel, the two women, still holding hands, following behind.

Day by day, the Kestrel took shape. An artisan sketched an outline of the bird on the wall next to the door, then finished by coloring it in shades of gray and rose, a splendid image of the small but cunning aerial hunter. Tammuz expressed his satisfaction by serving the artist a second cup of ale in addition to the supper promised for later that day.

A woman living down the lane agreed to bake bread for the tavern, and her two children fetched buckets of fresh water each morning. After a few days, the baker accepted an offer to come each day at sundown to cook the usual pot of stew, comprised of whatever En-hedu had bartered or purchased that day. With the wine and ale sellers finally delivering what they promised, the Kestrel once again began to attract a good number of customers. Two laborers arrived with a cart loaded with clean sand to fill and smooth over the floor of the inn, which had degenerated into a lopsided layer of dirt that had more rocks than soil.

The location, so close to the docks, naturally attracted plenty of river men, as well as those sailors who traveled along the coast of the great sea. The unruly crowd needed watching, of course, but Tammuz had searched the dockside and marketplace for days until he found a former soldier named Rimaud.

Big and strong, Rimaud had taken an arrow in his leg during a battle with the desert hors.e.m.e.n, and the wound had never fully healed. He walked with a heavy limp, and pain still crossed his face from time to time. Since he could no longer work all day, or even move quickly, he'd suffered in finding work on the docks. But for Tammuz and the Kestrel, Rimaud would have no trouble keeping order within its confines.

With Jarud and one or two of his guardsmen stopping by almost every night, word soon spread that the honest innkeeper and his wife provided good ale and decent food, in a setting where you could eat and drink without worrying about getting your throat slit or your purse cut.

A few evenings later, just as En-hedu and Irkalla finished serving the day's stew, a man rushed into the Kestrel, and shouted that King Eridu had died, murdered by his steward. Over their ale cups, heads huddled close together. Many whispered words that expressed satisfaction about the death of Eridu One-hand. Not one spoke a word of mourning or respect for the dead man. "Maybe now we'll have peace," one man said, muttering into his ale cup.

No one from the city's watch came that evening, and most of the customers left early, unsure of what the future would bring.

The next morning, Tammuz and En-hedu learned that Eridu's son, Shulgi, had taken command of Sumer and its soldiers.

Soon messengers walked the city's lanes, spreading word that King Shulgi had summoned all the inhabitants of Sumer to the marketplace at noon. Leaving Rimaud to watch the inn, Tammuz and En-hedu followed the crowd, and managed to secure a place just within earshot of their new ruler.

"A handsome man," En-hedu remarked, as Shulgi stepped forward and began to speak.

"Not much older than we are," agreed Tammuz.

After explaining how his father was murdered by his steward, Shulgi proclaimed that he would continue Eridu's rule. Then he called for a time of peace and healing. There would be no further war preparations.

Everyone cheered, and words of praise and support for their new king echoed throughout the marketplace.

Shulgi explained that peace would allow Sumer's people to work and plan for the future. No action would be taken or permitted against Akkadians, and trade would resume with the northern cities at once. King Shulgi also announced that he would send a deputation to Akkad, to inform King Eskkar of his desire for an end to hostilities between the two cities.

By the time Shulgi finished speaking, the throng voiced their approval for their new ruler. The war with Akkad was over, and a great weight had been lifted from Sumer's inhabitants. Mothers would not have to dread their husbands and sons going off to war, and families could work their farms and shops without worrying about being conscripted. Again and again, the crowd declared their thanks for the new king and his policy.

To conclude his speech, Shulgi declared three days of mourning for his father. After which, he continued, there would be three days of feasting to celebrate the coming peace. Of course, the people ignored the first p.r.o.nouncement and started celebrating. None concerned themselves about the demise of the unloved and aloof Eridu One-hand, who had brought them nothing but grief and disaster.

Tammuz and En-hedu joined in the cheering, waving their hands and shouting as loud as anyone. But that night, when the inn finally quieted down, they lay in their bed and whispered to each other.

"If there is to be peace," Tammuz said, "maybe there will be no need for us to remain in Sumer."

"Yes, if there is to be peace," En-hedu said. "But men may say one thing while they think another. What better way to deceive your own people than to tell them what they want to hear? The next few months will tell us who this Shulgi is, and what he really intends."

"Well, meanwhile we can enjoy ourselves while we wait," Tammuz said. He ran his hand down her shoulder and across her belly, enjoying the smooth flesh that never failed to arouse him. There was a time for war, and a time for pleasure, and he didn't intend to confuse one with the other.

19.

Three days later . . .

King Shulgi strode into his house, climbed the stairs two at a time, and stepped into the council chamber where not long ago his father had met with the leaders of the other cities. The house, the Compound, the soldiers, the city, all that once belonged to his father now belonged to Shulgi. The guards who patrolled the Compound reported to him, not Razrek. King Shulgi ruled over every man and woman in Sumer.

That included Kushanna. Eridu had treated Shanna as just another possession, forced to attend to his every beck and call, as much Eridu's property as any servant or slave; in due time, he would have again married her off to another petty n.o.ble either for a goodly supply of gold or to further Eridu's needs. There might not be much gold left in Eridu's secret places, but Shulgi intended to make better use of what remained than his father had.

Kushanna entered the meeting chamber a few steps behind her half-brother, and a moment later, Razrek arrived. Two of Shulgi's men guarded the room's entrance, and none of Razrek's men had been permitted into the Compound.

Shulgi unbuckled his sword and dumped it on the table before he sat down. Kushanna sat as well, taking the seat on her brother's right.

"Sit down, Razrek," Shulgi said. "We've much to talk about."

The soldier glanced at Shanna, who favored him with one of her most pleasing smiles. Nevertheless, he sat down warily. "What shall we talk about?"

"The war, of course," Shulgi said. No doubt Razrek hadn't expected Shanna to remain.

"Yesterday you spoke of peace in the marketplace."

"And peace is what we'll have for quite some time. In fact, there will be peace until the day we're ready for war with Akkad. And this time we'll strike so hard a blow that Akkad's walls will fall as easily as their barbarian leader."

"Your father wanted to fight . . ."

"You will never mention my father's name again, Razrek. His plans, his thoughts, all mean nothing. He was a merchant who thought his gold made him a leader of soldiers. You took his gold and let him play out his dreams of glory to further your own ends. You are as much responsible for the debacle on the border as he was."

Razrek bristled at the slur. "I did my best to warn him. Believe me, nothing would give me greater pleasure than killing Eskkar and . . ."

"You will address me as 'king' or 'my lord.' Don't forget that again, not even in private."

The soldier glanced at Kushanna, but her eyes were lowered, her gaze apparently fixed on the table.

"King Shulgi." Razrek bowed his head. "What do you want of me and my men?"

"Your men are no longer yours to command," Kushanna said, her eyes now fixed on Razrek. "From now on, all of them will be under King Shulgi's authority."

Razrek's eyes widened in surprise. "And what will I be doing?"

"You will be raising fresh troops and training them," said Shulgi. "I need bowmen, spearmen, and more hors.e.m.e.n. Thousands of them. You will take what gold I can spare, build a camp on the edge of the western desert, and start recruiting."

"But that would take months, years . . . Lord Shulgi."

"Yes, I know. It may be as much as two years before we are ready. But I'm still young, and I can afford to be patient. Our plans will take time to bear fruit. But there is much to do in the coming days to prepare for our attack. This war will be won not just on some battlefield, but in every city on the Tigris. Our victory must destroy Akkad so completely that it can never rise again. The land between the rivers will be ruled from Sumer."

"What will the people say when they learn of your plans?"

"They will not learn of them until I am ready to tell them. By then they will be as eager to fight Akkad as any bride on her wedding night is eager to please her husband. Until that day, we will talk only of peace and trade." Shulgi leaned closer to Razrek and placed his hands on the sword resting on the table. "Until that day, only the three of us will know my plans. So if people begin to speak of war, I'll know who is responsible."

"Then you already have made plans?"

"Kushanna and I have spoken of many things." Shulgi didn't bother to elaborate. Instead, he lifted his hand from the sword and placed it on her arm. "Meanwhile, you will be well paid, and when we complete our conquest, you'll have more gold and slaves and power than you can imagine."

"I can imagine quite a lot . . . Lord Shulgi."

"I'm sure you can, Razrek. Just make sure you remember to keep silent. We will speak only of peace while we prepare for war."

"People will notice sooner or later, Lord."

Shulgi nodded. "Eventually. But when they do, we'll tell them we're arming against the western raiders, or the barbarians to the north-east. Which, as it happens, is going to be true."

"We're at peace with the desert tribes." Razrek's face betrayed his confusion.

The Tanukhs and Salibs were desert dwellers who lived on Sumeria's western border, along the edge of the desert. The two tribes had fought each other off and on for as long as anyone could remember, occasionally joining forces to attack the Sumerian cities. But that tactic had failed in the last ten years, as the cities increased their strength, pushing the tribes back to the edge of the desert and beyond. In time, the tribes decided it was simpler to accept Eridu's gold than try to wrest it from Sumer's grasp.

"Yes, my father bought that peace with plenty of his gold. But soon you are going to approach the Tanukhs, to offer an alliance. In return for supporting Sumer, we will help them destroy the Salibs."

"Why the Tanukhs? We've dealt more often with the Salib tribes in the past."

"Because the Tanukhs are more numerous, and because their lands are farther to the north. That will make it easier for them to raid Akkadian territory when the times comes. And by waging our battles in the southern desert, there is less likelihood of Akkad discovering what we're doing until it's too late."

"What if the Tanukhs don't want to fight the Salibs, then what?"

"That will be your first new task, Razrek," Shulgi said. "You'll have to convince them to side with us. Agree to fight at their side. Promise them anything they need in trade. Use gold, threats, whatever it takes."

"And what do we want from them?"

"Horses, of course, and men. The Tanukhs must agree to help us make war on Akkad when the time comes. In that way, we'll be able to field a large number of mounted fighters to carry the battle north."

Razrek's brow furrowed.

"You seem uneasy about this," Kushanna said. "The western desert is the perfect place to train our own fighters."

Razrek glanced from Kushanna to Shulgi, who seemed unconcerned about hearing a woman's advice. "You want us to fight alongside the Tanukhs?"

"Oh, yes, Razrek." Shulgi leaned back and took Kushanna's hand in his own. "We're all going to fight the Salibs, until they're destroyed or driven deep into the desert where they belong. This way our soldiers will learn to fight against a real enemy, not wooden posts in training camp."

"The next Sumerian army that marches north will know how to fight, and how to win," Kushanna added. "It may take a few years to prepare everything, but this time Lord Shulgi will have experienced fighters at his back to face Eskkar."

"And what else do you have planned . . . Lord Shulgi?"

"Oh, there is more, much more. You will learn everything in time, after you have proven your loyalty. I may even let you rule in my name in Akkad, after we conquer the city."

Razrek considered that interesting possibility. He eased back in his chair. "And when will all this begin?"

"Tomorrow. Return here at noon, and we will decide what you will need, gold, men, everything will be planned for." Shulgi took a breath and turned to Kushanna. "Is there anything else for Razrek?"

"No, my king, except to tell Razrek to make sure his men know who commands them from now on."

"Ah, yes. We wouldn't want you to forget that." He saw the look of dismay on Razrek's face. "Don't worry, you'll soon raise a new force of men, one much greater than the handful you have now. Meanwhile, our work starts tomorrow. So go back to the camp, and tell all your men that peace is at hand. You'll keep training them, of course, but the fact that Sumer no longer has an enemy should turn that into a pleasant enough task. And now you may return to your men."

Razrek accepted the sudden dismissal smoothly enough. "Yes, my king." He stood, bowed, and left the chamber.

Shulgi waited until Razrek had gone, then rose and went to the guards stationed at the door. "Make sure no one disturbs my rest."

He closed the door, barred it, then leaned his back against it while he faced Kushanna.

She smiled, then lifted her arms over her head to stretch. "And now what do you desire, my king?"

Shulgi strode toward her. "Get up."

She rose and faced him, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s almost touching his chest. She ran her tongue over her lips.

"Take off your dress."

"Yes, my lord." Taking her time, she reached down and gathered the dress in her hands. Slowly she pulled it up, higher, until the light brown patch of hair beneath her belly lay open to his gaze. Shanna held the dress there for a moment, then lifted it higher, until her full b.r.e.a.s.t.s were revealed, their pink tips already hard with desire. Suddenly she jerked the dress up over her head and let it fall to the floor. She shook her hair to straighten it, the long brown tresses swirling over her shoulders. Her hands went to her hips. She spread her legs apart and moved closer until her body pressed against his.

"Is this what you want to see, my king? I hope my body pleases you." She ran her tongue over the base of his neck.

With an oath Shulgi swept his arms around her. "Your body would please the G.o.ds, Shanna, my queen, my love." He leaned down and kissed the warm lips that lifted to his. Shanna returned the kiss, then her tongue darted inside his mouth, and her leg lifted up and wrapped around his thigh.

"Perhaps you would find me more attractive in bed, my king. Your queen would like to please you in many ways."

His manhood had swelled into a solid rod against the touch of her leg. Shulgi picked her up, carried her into the bedroom, and tossed her onto the bed.

Shanna laughed as she bounced on the mattress, then held her head on one elbow as Shulgi pulled off his tunic. He moved onto the bed and knelt astride her, his staff brushing her lips. With a smooth motion, she lifted her head up and took him in her mouth, her hands reaching around to clutch him firmly.

"Ahhhha," he gasped, as a wave of pleasure pa.s.sed through him. "For this . . . I would kill a dozen men."