Clash Of Empires

Chapter 42

The Elamite Palace at Sushan. .

Just awakened from a deep sleep, King Jedidia stepped onto his palace balcony. One look, and his teeth clenched in a seething rage. Oblivious to the cold night breeze on his naked body, Jedidia watched the harbor of Sushan burn.

Tall pillars of flame along the water’s edge lit the night, and sent long red shimmers reflecting off the black water. Even from a quarter mile away, Jedidia heard the crackle of the fires above the shouts of the frantic boatmen struggling to save their vessels.

Not that the harbor itself was actually burning. But twenty or thirty of Sushan’s boats, crowded together along the docks and shoreline, blazed furiously. Several nearby storage depots were also in flames, fed by the cargoes stored under their awnings and covered porticos.

Along the length of the docks, plumes of gray smoke rushed upward, one streamer twisting across the face of the full moon. That glance told him midnight had long passed, and that dawn approached.

Fully awake now, Jedidia counted seven Akkadian ships responsible for the ongoing destruction. They glided at will through the black water, oars flashing in the firelight. Every deck appeared crowded with archers launching apparently endless flights of fire arrows at any target they could find.

New blazes sprang up wherever an oil-soaked shaft struck home in the dry hulls of Sushan’s ships. A few of Jedidia’s soldiers shot back, but the unorganized response of Sushan’s hastily turned out guard had no effect on the attacking vessels.

Brave men attempting to douse the flames died, too, as other shafts sought out anyone who dared approach the conflagrations. They died in vain, Jedidia knew. By now, nothing could quench these fires. Months of hot weather had dried everything above the water line into tinder.

The leader of King Jedidia’s personal guard, standing discreetly behind his sovereign, broke the silence. “My Lord, they slipped ashore and killed the guards at the watch station. Others landed by the docks, and used torches to set fire to the storage places and supply depots.”

King Jedidia ignored the commander who, only moments ago, had awakened him from his comfortable bed with the grim news of the surprise raid. Of course the cursed Akkadians had killed the no doubt sleeping guards stationed at the mouth of the harbor, supposedly to prevent such an attack. If any of them remained alive in the morning, he would have their heads chopped off.

As he stared, Jedidia saw the ships maneuvering away from the shore, heading out into the river for their return voyage south. The raid had ended. By noon the Akkadian dogs who had recently harried Elam’s supply route to the west during the war would have traveled the thirty-plus miles back to the mouth of the Karum River and disappeared into the Great Sea. They would have accomplished their mission unscathed, while leaving behind only devastation and destruction.

What ships the Akkadians had failed to sink or capture during the Sumer campaign now lay burning in Sushan’s harbor.

The flames continued to roar as the last Akkadian vessel vanished into the darkness. Except for a few boats fortunate enough to be plying their trade up river, the remains of Sushan’s merchant fleet would soon settle onto the harbor bottom.

As a result, the city would endure shortages of food and supplies for months, perhaps years. For the second time in as many months, Akkadians had struck a heavy and personal blow to Jedidia’s authority, and as before, he could do nothing about it.

He turned away from the balcony. The unhappy commander and three of Jedidia’s personal guards faced him, their faces pale as they awaited his instructions.

“Find out the extent of the damage,” Jedidia ordered. “Talk to the trading masters, and bring them to the Palace at midmorning.” The commander stood there, obviously expecting more instructions. But aside from mouthing empty threats or curses at the Akkadians, Jedidia had nothing else to say. “Get out. All of you.”

He returned his gaze toward the water. The wind shifted, and within moments he inhaled the stench of burning wood and cordage. Another discomfort Jedidia would have to endure, courtesy of the thrice-damned King of Akkad.

Only thirty-six days ago, as soon as he slew Lord Modran, Jedidia had returned to Sushan in haste. He brought with him five thousand mounted fighters, the only effective fighting force within hundreds of miles. Riding all day and long into the night, Jedidia outran any news of his presence as well as his setback in the Jkarian Pass, and Modran’s defeat and death.

With a handful of soldiers, Jedidia used his rank to gain entry to the city’s main gate, and hold it open until the rest of his horsemen arrived. Once inside the serene city of Sushan, he took every advantage of his numbers.

Catching King Shirudukh and his soldiers by surprise, Jedidia’s soldiers stormed the Palace, overwhelmed the King’s personal guard of two hundred Immortals, and slaughtered all of them.

Captured alive, Shirudukh did not survive his men for long. After denouncing Shirudukh as a traitor and the one responsible for the defeat of Elam’s armies, Jedidia ordered every member of his family and inner circle put to death. Jedidia had then shoved his sword into the King’s belly, and stood over him, watching with satisfaction as Shirudukh slowly and painfully bled to death.

The rest of King Shirudukh’s Immortals, eight hundred men, had camped outside Sushan, about a mile from the city. By the time they learned what had happened, the former King’s head decorated a pike just outside the Palace’s gate.

The only remaining Immortals within three hundred miles were stationed in Elam’s capital city of Anshan. Shirudukh, with his armies marching into the Land Between the Rivers, had worried more about Anshan’s security than any threat to himself at Sushan.

Jedidia sent word to the commander of the Immortals outside Sushan’s gates, informing him of the destruction of Modran’s Immortals in the Dellen Pass, and warning the commander that Jedidia’s forces were ready to destroy them as well. The Immortals were ordered to swear oaths of fealty to Jedidia at once. Cut off from the city and with no hope of reinforcements, the commander prostrated himself and accepted Jedidia as the new King of Elam.

In a single day of bloodshed and torture, Jedidia had seized control of Sushan and its remaining soldiers. The new King of Elam, at least in name, now faced a new challenge — keeping his empire together.

In a fashion, Jedidia owed his newly-acquired crown to Eskkar. If the barbarian hadn’t defeated Lord Modran in the Dellen Pass, Jedidia would not be King of the Elamite Empire.

But tonight the crafty Akkadian fighting ships had slipped unnoticed into Elam’s waters and attacked Sushan itself, reminding his subjects that the war had not yet ended. They were wrong, of course. The war was in truth over. Jedidia had no intention of wasting more men or gold on a futile pursuit of a western empire. He would need every soldier and every gold coin just to maintain control of what remained of the Elamite Kingdom.

That challenge had occupied Jedidia’s every moment since he placed the crown on his head. Soon enough, subjugated cities throughout the realm would be tempted to seize the opportunity caused by the destruction of much of the Elamite army. They would look for any excuse to revolt against his newly assumed authority. The ships burning in Sushan’s harbor would add fuel to the fires of rebellion.

“Master, you must be cold.” The slave girl who had shared his bed during the night slipped a soft blanket over his shoulders, holding it there until he reached up and clasped the covering.

“Come inside, My Lord. It will be dawn soon, and you should dress.”

A few moments passed before the girl’s words penetrated Jedidia’s rage. For the first time, he noticed the chill in the air that his anger had kept at bay. With a deep breath, Jedidia turned away from the fiery spectacle and stepped back into his bed chamber.

Two scented oil lamps now burned, and he smiled at the naked girl standing before him. A former plaything of Shirudukh, she had worked very hard to satisfy Jedidia’s every desire for the last few nights.

“Thank you.” He reached out, took her by the arms, and let the blanket slip from his shoulders to the floor. Leaning forward, he kissed the warm lips, as he let his hands caress the soft throat. With a murmur of anticipation, she pressed her body against his.

Jedidia inhaled the jasmine scent of the girl’s perfume, then slowly he tightened his grip, giving her a hint of what was to come. Her eyes went wide, but before she could protest, he snapped her neck with a savage twist.

For a moment he stared into her eyes, filled with more surprise than pain. He flung the dying body to the rush-covered floor. The slave was only the first to feel his rage. The lax harbor guards, the sentries along the river sleeping at their posts, anyone who had failed in their duty would soon join her.

Too many people had seen him humiliated by these Akkadians. He would not have this latest story whispered throughout the palace. His new subjects would soon learn the penalty for failure.

“Guards! Clean up this mess.”

King Jedidia’s midmorning meeting with the city’s foremost merchants, traders, and boat owners began with a grim omen. As those summoned entered the Palace from the courtyard, they filed past a pile of seven bloody heads stacked just outside the entrance. These had formerly belonged to those commanders who had failed in their duties last night. Another twenty or so soldiers who fled their posts had already met their deaths in the marketplace.

The severed heads sent a somber and subtle warning to those attending the morning meeting — do not be too critical of the King.

Jedidia stood in front of his throne, arms crossed over his chest, and his fighting sword belted around his waist. Six guards lined the walls, three on either side, and their hard eyes promised a quick response to anyone who aroused the wrath of the King this day.

Off to one side, the four remaining members of former King Shirudukh’s council of advisors also waited. They, too, had been summoned to the Palace, and now they huddled shoulder to shoulder at a narrow table along the Council Room’s wall, facing the King.

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.

Jedidia understood the look, but decided to ignore it. Whatever the message, the advisors would learn of it sooner or later. “Get on with it.”

Kedor took a breath, straightened up, and paused for a moment to clear his thoughts. Then he began his recitation.

“Greetings from Eskkar of Akkad, and greetings from all the cities of the Land Between the Rivers, to King Jedidia of Susa and Elam. It was unfortunate that you were prevented from passing through the Jkarian Pass, and that I did not get a chance to face you in battle. However, my son, Sargon of Akkad, did oppose you outside the Dellen Pass. You were wise to avoid battle with him and the horsemen of the steppes, as they would have surely slain you and all your men.”

Jedidia ground his teeth at the boastful lie. He had outnumbered the barbarians almost five to one, and without doubt could have destroyed them. But even then the prize of Elam’s kingship beckoned, and he had no intention of wasting more than half his valuable soldiers killing ignorant barbarians.

Kedor saw the look on the King’s face, hesitated, and then continued his delivery.

“I, Eskkar of Akkad, intended to come to Elam and kill the dog Shirudukh and his minion Modran by my own hand. But since you, Great King Jedidia, have saved me the journey, for which I give thanks, I offer to you this one, and only one, chance to end the war between Elam and the Land Between the Rivers.”

This time Kedor paused to take a full breath.

“The cities of Akkad, Isin, Sumer, Uruk, and Lagash were put to much trouble and expense by the dog Shirudukh. That expense must be repaid. The sum of twenty thousand gold coins, each coin the equal to one of Akkad’s own gold coins, or the equivalent in gold or silver ingots, is to be paid within twenty days. My ships that attacked your harbor will return on that date to collect payment.

“If payment is not received at that time, I, Eskkar of Akkad, will lead the soldiers of the Land Between the Rivers into the lands of Elam. I, Eskkar of Akkad, will unleash the warriors of the steppes on your northern territories. I, Eskkar of Akkad, will have my ships burn your harbors and sink your ships. I, Eskkar of Akkad, will destroy every city that resists me, yet I will spare and reward every city that joins with me to hunt down King Jedidia of Elam. My soldiers in their just anger will not stop until the head of King Jedidia rests at my feet. This I, Eskkar of Akkad, swear to you and all the gods, and most especially to the wise Goddess Ishtar and the great God Marduk, who will always defend and protect the Land Between the Rivers. I, Eskkar of Akkad, also declare that if any soldiers from the land of Elam ever dare to set foot on our lands again, I will bring war and destruction upon you, until all your cities are destroyed. There is no more to be said.”

Silence filled the Council Room. None of the advisors dared to meet the King’s eyes. After a moment, Kedor spoke again, this time in his normal voice.

“My Lord, I was given a gold coin by Commander Daro, as a sample of what was required. However, one of your guards took it from me. You may want to get it back. Daro also insisted I was to be returned with the ransom, alive and unharmed. If I am not, the amount of gold demanded is to be increased by an additional one thousand coins. If you accept the terms, a signal fire is to burn all through the night tomorrow, at the mouth of the Karum River.”

Kedor paused, as if unsure whether he should speak again. “My Lord, I was also told to inform you that this message would be delivered to the other cities of Elam, so that all would know the devastation that awaits them should they ever wage war again on the Land Between the Rivers.”

“Get out.” Jedidia found his left hand had tightened on the hilt of his sword. He wanted nothing more than to hack Kedor’s body to pieces. “Get him out of here.”

The wide-eyed commander hustled Kedor from the chamber. The heavy door swung closed with a thud, leaving Jedidia and his six guards alone with the four members of his Council of Advisors.

Jedidia faced them. “Well, you heard Eskkar’s demands. What do you suggest?”

No one spoke. He saw the trembling of their hands, and not one of them met his gaze.

“Fools, all of you! Do you think I will let that ignorant barbarian and his slut of a wife tell me what to do? Let them demand payment from my empire?”

Jedidia flung his words, along with a mouthful of spittle, at his council. He took two strides to stand in front of the most cunning of them, and the least trustworthy. “You, Aram-Kitchu, what do you say? Were you not once one of those filthy Sumerians?”

Aram-Kitchu bowed so low that his black beard touched the table.

“My King, I don’t know what to say. I was born in Sumeria, it’s true, but that land was conquered by the Akkadians, and I bear only hatred toward them. I’ve lived in Sushan for almost twenty years, and my loyalties are only to you, My King, and to Elam.”

Again Aram-Kitchu bowed his head, as if to reinforce his loyalty. “As to the barbarian Eskkar, I can only say what I’ve heard, what everyone has heard who has dealings with Akkad. That King Eskkar is a man of his word. That he has never broken a promise or a trust, even to the lowest of his soldiers or the least of his people.”

With a snarl of rage, Jedidia jerked his sword from its scabbard, and pressed the point against Aram-Kitchu’s stomach. “You dare to threaten me with Eskkar’s name? You are the one whose spies failed to warn us of the secret alliances between Isin and Sumer and Akkad. Your spies again failed to warn me about the Jkarian Pass, or that Eskkar would fight at the Dellen Pass. You are a traitor to Elam. I should put you to the torture before I add your head to the pile outside.”

Aram-Kitchu stared at the sword, but shook his head. “My life is yours to take, my King. But not once did my spies fail to bring good information. Even so, King Shirudukh relied on many sources besides myself. Nor did he heed my warnings about Akkad. I advised him several times that the Akkadians were not to be taken lightly.”

Jedidia hesitated. This Sumerian traitor had spoken the truth about that. The fool Shirudukh had laughed at the Akkadians, as if the mere sound of his name would frighten them into surrendering. Nevertheless, Jedidia still wanted to drive the sword into Aram-Kitchu’s belly, if only to hear the man’s screams as Jedidia twisted the blade into his guts.

“Then what do you suggest that I do, Aram-Kitchu?’ He pushed the blade harder against the man’s tunic, and a spot of red appeared beneath the blade’s tip.

Aram-Kitchu raised his eyes for the first time, and met Jedidia’s gaze. “My King, I cannot help you if I am dead. But you must decide how to deal with the Akkadians. If you want to face the Akkadians in battle, I’m sure you can destroy any army they send against us. Your soldiers still out number them many times over.”

With a horrifying scream, Jedidia raised his sword up and swung it down with all his might. But the blade smashed into the table, not Aram-Kitchu’s head, and clove right through the finely carved surface in a burst of splinters. The other advisors recoiled at the blow, raising their hands in fear and shrinking away from the King’s wrath.

The commander of Jedidia’s guards outside the chamber heard the commotion and pushed open the door. He took a brief look, to assure himself that the King remained safe, and ducked back outside.

“Damn you, Eskkar of Akkad! Damn. .” Jedidia choked on the words, his tongue unable to match his fury. The big vein in his forehead bulged and throbbed as if it would burst.

Of course he dared not raise another army to fight the Akkadians. The soldiers who managed to survive the invasion had limped home beaten men. That attitude had already spread throughout the Empire and the rest of Elam’s soldiers.

By now even the lowliest and most distant of his soldiers had heard about the unstoppable Eskkar of Akkad — the cunning King who had never lost a battle, the King who cannot be beaten no matter how greatly outnumbered, the King who slaughters his enemies by the thousands, and, most of all, the King who had never failed to make good on his word.

The first time an Akkadian soldier set foot on Elam’s soil, the Empire would erupt in revolt. Jedidia would be lucky if a handful of cities remained loyal. He’d never sleep again, without wondering if he would wake up with his head still on his shoulders. Any one of his men would gladly carry such a trophy to Eskkar for the inevitably large reward that would be offered.

Jedidia felt wetness on his chin, and wiped it hard with the back of his left hand. A smear of red marked his fingers. The taste of blood confirmed that he’d bitten his tongue.

If he couldn’t fight, what were his options? Jedidia felt a sinking feeling in his chest, the same one that had washed over him in the Jkarian Pass.

He glared at the four men cringing before him. “Well, what do you suggest, damn you? You are supposed to be my wise and exalted advisors. Give me your advice.”

No one answered. “What would you do, Aram-Kitchu?”

The wealthy merchant kept his head low. “My King, since I lack your courage, I would pay the sum demanded. Eskkar is probably not eager to go to war, but he needs an excuse to refrain. If he receives the gold, the barbarian will no doubt keep most of it for himself, but he will use the rest to assuage his allies and soldiers, and satisfy their desires for conquest. With so much wealth in his hand, he will not bother to invade. He would already have more gold than he could get in any invasion, and without the cost in men and supplies. In a few years, five at most, you can recover most of the gold from your own people.”

Jedidia knew that last statement was another lie. It would take at least eight or more years to recover such a huge sum. He would have to squeeze every coin out of every man in the Empire. Still Aram-Kitchu spoke the truth about one thing — in time the gold would be recovered. Life would be difficult, but at least Jedidia would keep his throne.

With an oath, he again swung his sword at what remained of the table, making the advisors shrink back in fright a second time. The smell of urine wafted in the air. At least one of the advisors had pissed himself.

“Raise the gold! I don’t care what you do or how you do it, but raise the twenty thousand coins. Squeeze it out of every city, every village, every farmer, shopkeeper, merchant, priest, temple, every whore and beggar in the Empire. Sell anyone who can’t pay into slavery, and put those who refuse to pay to the sword. My soldiers will give you whatever help you need. If you can’t raise the amount needed, I’ll confiscate everything of value you own, before I hang each one of you and every member of your family upside down in the marketplace.”

No one uttered a word. Death might be the punishment for the slightest objection.

Jedidia glanced at one of his guards. “Send the traitor Kedor back to his new friends, and tell him that Elam will pay the gold.” Sword still clutched in hand, Jedidia strode out of the room, followed by his guards, and leaving behind the stunned and shaken advisors.

The four men glanced around the empty chamber, as if to reassure themselves that they were alone and still alive. “By the gods, this will beggar all of us.” The words came in a whisper from Shesh-kala, who tugged at his white beard with a hand that still trembled.

“Yes, it will,” Aram-Kitchu agreed. He glanced down at his tunic.

A small circle of blood had seeped through the garment, where the King’s blade had pierced the skin. Aram-Kitchu had come that close to dying. Now for the privilege of staying alive, he’d have to give up most of his fortune, and spend the next few years groveling on his knees and working himself back into the new King’s favor. Even so, Aram-Kitchu would dread the King’s every summons, wondering when Jedidia would finally choose to put him to the torture before taking his head.

The King of Akkad’s message had been cunning indeed. The sum demanded was just enough to bring the Empire, already facing disaster from the enormous cost of the war, to the brink of ruin, but not so large as to be impossible. Yes, Aram-Kitchu detected the shrewdness of Lady Trella’s presence in the message. Eskkar could never have calculated the precise sum needed to beggar the Kingdom of Elam, or composed such a bold demand.

And then another idea took root deep in Aram-Kitchu’s thoughts. Perhaps Lady Trella had presented him with the opportunity to get rid of King Jedidia, and take the kingship for himself. With enough gold to buy men and influence, such boldness might succeed in the troubling times soon to come.

But gold, of course, would soon be in short supply, as every trader, merchant, and even the lowest farmer hastened to bury his valuables beneath the dirt of his fields.

Then suddenly Aram-Kitchu, once known as Bracca the Sumerian thief, knew exactly where he could obtain such a large sum of gold, probably as much as he needed. It shouldn’t be too difficult for Lady Trella to funnel some of Jedidia’s gold back into Bracca’s hands.

She and Eskkar would understand the advantages of having Bracca rule the Elamite Empire. With enough wealth, Bracca could buy the soldiers, mercenaries, and supporters needed to put himself on the throne. Jedidia was, after all, a common fighting man, with no friends or family to sustain him. Soon his unpopular policies would bring hatred down on his name.

Once again, Bracca felt glad he had warned his old traveling companion, Eskkar, about the coming invasion. Though Bracca had done so because of their strong bond of friendship, that good deed might now save his own life.

Bracca rose, and one by one, the others stood and headed for the door. As the youngest, Bracca trailed the others out of the chamber, but his thoughts remained elsewhere. He decided that with a plentiful supply of gold, some help from his new friends in Akkad, and a little luck, he, Bracca, would be the next king of Elam.

It would require time, perhaps half a year, but it could be done. He might even take back his true name once again. King Bracca of Elam and the Indus sounded much more imposing than King Aram-Kitchu, and much more impressive than King Eskkar of Akkad.

(Readers: if you have not yet read Battle for Empire, the fifth novel in the Eskkar Saga, you may want to visit my website, www.sambarone.com and click on the Battle for Empire tab, to read the prologue)