Good mounts were scarce. And even when they were plentiful, not all proved large and strong enough to carry a man and his weapons. To be considered as a war horse, the animal needed to be at least fourteen hands high. Every warrior and even the villagers tried to breed the animals so as to increase each offspring's size and strength. Still, some smaller animals made excellent mounts, while other, larger horses lacked the stamina and speed needed for a war horse. The breeder's skill, Eskkar knew, lay in quickly determining each horse's capabilities.

"Good horseflesh is scarce," Eskkar agreed. "I will gather horses from every direction. But here, in your lands, are bred the finest mounts. And you could breed more, if you had a reason to do so. Wherever and however you obtain them, I will trade tools, goods, whatever you need, with your people."

Subutai rocked back and forth for a moment, always taking his time before replying. "We have a few surplus horses, but numbers such as you need . . ."

"This war will take time, perhaps years before it begins. I know that no one has as many mounts as I will need, but I must start gathering them now, as I must begin training the men to care for them, and to learn to ride and fight."

Eskkar had his eyes on Subutai, but he caught a glimpse of Fashod, who let a flash of excitement cross his face.

"And if I can supply you with a good number of horses . . . you can provide tools, weapons, cooking pots, all the bronze we need?"

"Yes, as well as grain, cloth, food, wine, even cattle or sheep." Eskkar kept his features impa.s.sive, but he thought he read something in Subutai's body language. Trella had helped Eskkar understand the subtle signs given off by a man's face and body. He guessed the Ur Nammu leader had extra horses, or at least knew where he could get them.

"Then we may be able to help you, Eskkar. That is, if you can break wild stock."

Now it was Eskkar's turn to rock back and forth while he considered his answer. The Ur Nammu had found a wild horse herd somewhere. Such animals would be beyond the villagers' skill to train. Villagers could breed and raise horses, and teach them to accept a rider, but a wild animal, that was different. Only the most skilled riders could break a horse that had lived most of its life running free.

"I have only a few men who could handle such animals. Could you not break the new mounts, and exchange your trained horses with us?"

"Where are you intending to hold these horses? In Akkad?"

Subutai clearly wasn't willing to talk about any exchanges, at least not yet.

"No, I will establish camps north of Bisitun," said Eskkar, "most likely on the west bank of the river. Even a place such as this would be suitable. There are many small valleys in these lands with good gra.s.s where horses could be held. Perhaps your warriors could break the animals for us, until my men learn how to master the skill."

"Yes, that's what I was thinking," Subutai said. "I have warriors who could break horses for you. In fact, I have too many young warriors, all eager for battle. With the Alur Meriki far to the east, there are few opportunities for them to prove themselves. I'm sure ten or fifteen would be glad for the chance to demonstrate their horse skills."

"Then for that help, I would be grateful," Eskkar said. "How big a horse herd did you find?"

Subutai smiled. "I see I must learn not to betray my thoughts so easily. At least a hundred horses. It was far to the north, at the base of the mountains. We took a few last year, and drove the rest into the foothills, then blocked their way out. They should still be there, or most of them. There may even be more. The gra.s.s was good, with plenty of water. We saw some fine stallions."

If the Ur Nammu could deliver a few hundred horses and help break them, Eskkar could a.s.semble a basic cavalry force in months, instead of years. With the additional animals he would obtain through trading, he might have more horses in the next six months than men to ride them.

"My men at Bisitun are almost ready to establish the first camp. As you bring in mounts, we will trade for them. If you agree."

Subutai turned toward Fashod, who nodded his agreement. They had worked with Eskkar before, and accepted him as an equal. Now he was glad he'd come himself. The Ur Nammu would not have dealt with anyone else from Akkad or any other place for that matter.

Eskkar leaned back. There was still much to talk about, of course, but the basic arrangement had been made. In true warrior fashion, the details would be decided between Hathor and Fashod. That way, if there were disagreements, the leaders could correct the problems without anyone losing honor.

"You have something else to say?"

The question caught Eskkar by surprise, unaware that his own thoughts could be read on his face. The idea of so many horses arriving so soon had not been part of his plan. But now that the possibility existed, he might be able to improve on his original idea.

"I was thinking about bows for the riders. Your people can make them as well as mine. They would be a powerful weapon for my men."

"You think you can train men to shoot arrows from the back of a horse?" Even Subutai couldn't keep the skepticism out of his voice.

Eskkar grinned. "Not at first. But perhaps a few of your young men, with someone like Fashod to control them, could help train my young men in the ways of fighting from horseback."

Subutai laughed, the sound carrying across the gra.s.sland. "Dirt-eaters fighting on horseback! Enough talk for today," he said, rising to his feet. He extended his hand and pulled Eskkar upright. "Tonight we will feast, then tomorrow we will talk again. I wish to hear all about your new enemy, these Sumerians."

Eskkar felt the strength in Subutai's grip. The warrior had indeed regained his full strength. "Then we'll feast," he said. "I brought two wineskins from Bisitun for you and your men. That should be enough to get most of them decently drunk."

Later that night, after the feasting and singing and drinking, Eskkar checked the guards and the horses before readying himself for sleep. His head hurt from the third cup of wine more than he'd drunk in some time. A footfall crunched in the dirt, and he looked up to see Subutai walking toward him.

The Ur Nammu leader squatted down beside him. "Eskkar, I think I may be able to offer you more help, if you can find a way."

"I'll take any help I can." He wondered why Subutai was bringing this up now, and without Fashod or his men present.

"As I said, I have plenty of young warriors, and not enough fighting or riding to keep them occupied. With nothing to accomplish, they grow restive. They fight with each other, and make trouble over women and horses."

And question their leaders, Eskkar knew. That's why the warrior clans needed to keep their young men fighting. "Warriors need to ride," Eskkar agreed, still not sure where this talk was heading.

"If you were interested in taking some of them into your army for a time, they would make fine fighters for you. They could learn much about the ways of war, and practice their skills on your enemy."

A force of steppe warriors, even a small one, would be a blessing from the G.o.ds, Eskkar knew. They could act as scouts and messengers, and could hara.s.s the enemy as well. "If any of your warriors wished to join my men, they would be welcome."

"Just for a year or two," Subutai cautioned. "I don't want them deciding to stay with your army when they're needed here. But what they would learn would be very useful."

It certainly would, Eskkar decided. They would learn more about Eskkar's army and his forces, their strengths and weaknesses, than he would have cared to share with the Ur Nammu, but that couldn't be avoided. Like Subutai, Eskkar understood that the day might come when they faced each other across a battlefield. But such a day would not come soon, he knew.

"I think we can make a fair arrangement, Subutai, that satisfies you and your needs."

"Good. We'll speak of this again in a few days. Better to let my men get used to the idea of delivering and breaking horses for you first."

When the leader of the Ur Nammu had gone, Eskkar stretched out on his blanket. A force of warriors under his command. Something he'd dreamed about as a young boy. He found the idea strangely satisfying, and knew his father's spirit would approve of his son leading hors.e.m.e.n into battle. The Ur Nammu might not be the Alur Meriki, but they shared a common ancestry, both clans riding down from the distant northern steppes many generations ago.

With their skills, Subutai's warriors would make a powerful addition to his future army. There would be risks, of course, and plenty of problems, but he felt sure he could manage it, with a little luck. Hathor would help, and he would make a fine leader of Akkad's horse fighters.

Eskkar wrapped his blanket around him and closed his eyes. Horses and fighting men from the Ur Nammu. Trella would be pleased.

21.

Little more than a month after King Shulgi took control of Sumer, En-hedu stood with her hands on her hips, looking about the crowded tavern full of happy patrons. Since their arrival in Sumer, both she and Tammuz had worked hard, but at last the Kestrel Tavern had settled into a satisfying routine. Irkalla and Anu handed out the food and ale, and serviced the customers, those able and willing to pay for their special services. The cook, helped by En-hedu and the girls, made the evening stew, while Rimaud carried ale and anything else of bulk to the Kestrel by day, and kept the crowd under control at night.

With Tammuz's reputation in the neighborhood established by knocking the three thieves unconscious, and Rimaud's ma.s.sive arms and shoulders, not to mention the short sword he wore day and night, only the very foolish or very drunk dared to make trouble. Guardsman Jarud stopped by almost every night, often with two or three of his men who either had done something well during the day, or possibly just avoided their leader's ire. He usually arrived well after sundown, to enjoy a late-night cup of ale. His presence helped convince the gangs who lurked in the marketplace and roamed the lanes at night that it made more sense to leave the Kestrel and its new owners alone, and concentrate on more vulnerable and less popular prey.

Serving decent food and strong ale, the Kestrel soon earned a good reputation, especially among those sailing or working on the riverboats and docks, located only a few hundred paces away. Patrons could drink themselves senseless, fall asleep on the floor, and still find their purses, not to mention their throats, intact in the morning. Rimaud even accompanied an occasional sailor back to his boat at closing time or got them to the docks just after dawn.

Tammuz and En-hedu still labored from dawn to dusk each day. Everything and everyone had to be under someone's watch, lest problems arose. Even good customers would cheerfully take advantage of any lapse of the owners' guard, either by stealing ale or pilfering from another customer who might have drunk too much.

Still, people came to the Kestrel to eat, drink, meet and talk with their friends, or just to find a safe place to sleep at night. That kept the little tavern open for business from dawn until well after dark. En-hedu and Tammuz made sure that one or both of them were present to keep an eye on things at all times, though they soon realized that Rimaud could be trusted as well. His grat.i.tude for their concern showed on his broad face. He made sure that neither the customers nor the staff could take advantage of the Kestrel's owners.

Like any trade or craft, the owners also had to exercise constant care to maintain a profitable business. En-hedu kept track of all the expenses, and informed Tammuz that, in another month or two, the Kestrel would be turning a profit. That was important, not only because they had to earn their own bread, but because an unprofitable inn that remained in business would attract suspicion. And there were plenty of informers, who dropped in to hear the latest talk on the river, ready to take notice of anything out of the ordinary. En-hedu and her husband soon knew who they were. Their clumsy attempts to gather loose talk and draw information from the northern boatmen made many of the regular customers laugh.

En-hedu was working alone one afternoon when a man entered the Kestrel, his eyes squinting into the shadowy interior. Not much light entered from the door or the roof hole, and it was still too early in the day to start a fire. He glanced around, then went to a table and sat down. The tavern was almost empty, except for two drunks snoring their heads off in the corner. Tammuz and Rimaud were out buying ale, while the girls were trying to s.n.a.t.c.h some sleep in the tiny room that they shared with Rimaud and those clients who were willing to pay extra.

En-hedu reached the table, sizing up the potential customer. He looked like a man with a coin or two in his purse. "Welcome to the Kestrel. Ale costs one copper coin for two mugs, or one cup and a loaf of bread." It was always best to get the prices clear in the customer's mind right away. Otherwise, they would claim they'd been distracted and hadn't realized what things cost. Or they claimed to have forgotten, which she could almost believe from some of the more ignorant farm workers, especially after they'd drunk a few cups of ale. By now En-hedu had heard every trick and sad story a customer could come up with.

The man smiled, reached into his tunic, and pulled out a leather pouch that remained looped around his neck. "And to stay the night, how much is that?"

A customer with ready coins always received a smile and a softer tone. "For two copper coins, you can have as much ale as you like, with stew for supper and a place to sleep tonight." That wasn't as generous as it sounded. Almost no one could drink more than three or four cups of the powerful brew. One customer had downed six cups before pa.s.sing out and cracking his head on a table. He didn't wake up until nearly noon the next day.

A man with plenty of coin might also be interested in Irkalla or Anu, especially after a few cups of ale. En-hedu would point this one out to Irkalla. The woman knew how to take advantage of such situations, and sometimes ended up doing little more than bring the man into her chamber and put him to bed. In the morning she would tell the confused customer how strong and virile he was.

"Two copper coins, then," the man said. "My name is Malok. I just arrived today from Akkad."

En-hedu showed no sign of recognition at the man's name. Lady Trella had said they would be contacted by a man named Malok. The name was half the pa.s.sword.

"If I were you, I wouldn't be quick to tell people I'm from Akkad. Travelers from that evil city are still not very welcome in Sumer."

Despite Shulgi's announcement of peace with his northern neighbor, people's feelings took a long time to change. And offering that bit of advice meant nothing. Sumer's spies kept watch on the docks, and would take note of anyone from Akkad, even a lowly riverboat crewman.

"I grew up here in Sumeria," Malok said. "I only attend my master, who travels up and down the river, wherever the trading takes him."

"Well, I hope you'll return to the Kestrel many times," En-hedu said.

She scooped up the two coins and went to the ale table. Pouring a generous amount into the wooden cup, she carried it back to the table. "Supper won't be ready until just before dark. The cook hasn't even started."

"The ale will do until then." Malok took a mouthful of ale, and sighed with pleasure. "And you are . . . ?"

"My name is En-hedu. My husband Tammuz and I own this place."

"I knew an En-hedu in my village where I grew up. A place called Ubaid. You remind me of her."

En-hedu laughed. "I am her, Malok. I remember now. There was a boy named Malok, son of Grimald."

"No, Grimald was my uncle. Tibor was my father."

They laughed at the seemingly chance encounter. En-hedu felt satisfied. Their little string of falsehoods agreed. Malok was the first messenger from Annok-sur, the man who would deliver and carry messages back to Akkad.

Like any old friends reunited, they spoke of Ubaid, and En-hedu realized that Malok was indeed familiar with the village. He'd probably gone there just as she and Tammuz had done, spending just enough time to blend in. Malok had chosen a good time to visit the Kestrel. That timing might not be by chance, she decided. A quick glance toward the snoring drunks rea.s.sured her. They would sleep the remainder of the afternoon.

"So, what's happening now in Sumer? I hear you have a new king."

"Yes, King Shulgi, son of Eridu, now rules here. King Shulgi is young, but wise for his seasons. Unlike his father, our new king wants only peace. Some evil people think he murdered his father, that he wanted to seize control and to take his half-sister to his bed." She laughed as she delivered the local gossip. "People always have to have something wicked to talk about. But I heard him speak in the marketplace months ago when he took his father's place, and I say King Shulgi's wits are keen, as are those of his new wife, Kushanna."

As if they were merely having a casual conversation, En-hedu told Malok everything she and Tammuz had learned. By the time she stopped talking, the ale in Malok's cup was gone.

"Well, at least there will be peace between Sumer and Akkad now."

"Yes, there is much talk of peace." En-hedu put the slightest emphasis on the word talk talk. One of the sleeping drunks might be awake and listening. "But the recruiters are still talking to every farmboy and goatherd that enters the city, though most of the training camps around Sumer have emptied. One customer claimed they have been moved to the west, near the edge of the great desert."

"That seems strange," Malok said. "Why so far from Sumer?"

"The desert tribesmen are raiding the border again. Farms and small villages have been burned. Sumer has to protect its borders." En-hedu shrugged. "Whatever the reason, it's bad for business to have so many men so far away."

"As long as Sumer wants peace, who cares how many soldiers your king recruits, or where he sends them."

"Perhaps. Meanwhile King Shulgi is most active in consolidating his rule. The other cities have not yet agreed to accept his leadership. But I think they will in time. King Shulgi is governing wisely, though the taxes remain high, because the greedy barbarian king in Akkad demanded so much in ransom for Shulgi's father."

Malok took another sip of ale. "I know little of such things. When warriors struggle against each other, a poor boatman like myself must just grovel in the dirt on his stomach and hope neither side steps on him."

En-hedu laughed at that. "Well, despite all that Akkad can do to stop us, Sumer is too powerful and too strong to not take the lead of the southern cities. People who travel up and down the rivers say that Sumer is now the largest city in the world."

"That's what they say in Akkad, but with Akkad's name instead of Sumer's," Malok said with a smile. "Still, peace is good for trade, which means my master and his grasping boat captains will be pleased."

"And good for the Kestrel. If all the men are at war, then there is no one to drink and entertain my girls. And our patron, Merchant Gemama would still demand his profit every month, no matter how many customers we had."

She wanted Yavtar to know that Gemama had decided to help them.

"Then I'll have another cup of ale, to drink to peace between our cities."

En-hedu fetched it. As she set it down, she pa.s.sed the final piece of information. "Our new queen, Kushanna, is very wise and very powerful. She attends all the councils, and the king seeks her advice on everything."

"I'll remember that, En-hedu of Ubaid. Is she as beautiful as they say?"

"Oh yes, and a few seasons older than her new husband." En-hedu described Kushanna in detail, knowing that Lady Trella would want to know such things.

Two men stepped into the room, and one shouted for ale.

"No need to shout," En-hedu said, raising her own voice as loud as the newcomers. "I can see and hear you well enough." She rose and smiled at Malok. "Enjoy your stay at the Kestrel."

En-hedu said nothing to Malok for the rest of the evening, and didn't even tell Tammuz until they were in bed and she could whisper the words into his ear. "Make sure you see him before he leaves in the morning, so you can recognize him next time."

"You think he'll be back? Maybe they'll send someone else."

"He's working on a riverboat. Now that trade has resumed, boats will be moving up and down the Tigris. He'll probably be here every fifteen or twenty days. No one will be suspicious of a sailor spending an evening or two in a tavern."

"I wish we could tell Trella ourselves."

"The messenger will be both loyal and discreet. She will have seen to that. Now go to sleep husband."

He held her tight for a moment, then let himself relax. Soon he fell asleep, and En-hedu could worry without disturbing him. Tammuz was right, the most dangerous part of this enterprise was delivering the reports to the messenger. If anyone suspected him or them, a long and painful session in Shulgi's torture room would drag the truth out of even the strongest man. Or woman. En-hedu wondered what she would do if the hot irons were pressed against the most tender parts of her body. She shivered. Best not to be taken alive, she knew.

En-hedu cleared her mind of problems. Instead, she let herself enjoy the warmth and touch of Tammuz's body against hers, so different from that of her previous master.

Her first owner had been brutal and cruel, turning her into a helpless animal pleading to avoid his fists. He had broken her nose at least once, and shared her with his friends or anyone willing to pay for more ale. En-hedu cried every night, and begged the G.o.ds for a quick death to release her. Word of her mistreatment had reached Lady Trella's ears, and she and her guards arrived at the tannery owned by En-hedu's master, to stop the beatings that had offended and embarra.s.sed everyone living nearby.

With Lady Trella threatening to drive En-hedu's owner from the city, he grudgingly accepted a decent price for his slave. Lady Trella took the frightened and still crying girl by the hand, and led her to a new life.

It took weeks for the pain and bruises to fade, and for her wits to return. As she regained her health and strength, En-hedu impressed Lady Trella. In time, she gave En-hedu to Tammuz, as young and inexperienced as herself. Like two wounded chicks in a nest, they found strength and comfort in each other.