He took one last look around to make sure everything was in place. The four mud brick houses that sheltered the owner and his servants were a hundred and fifty paces from where Eskkar stood. The servants and laborers had all been sent off to another farm for the day.
Only the sixty Hawk Clan soldiers remained, scarcely noticeable as they patrolled the grove in a wide ring that brought them no closer than two hundred paces, well out of earshot. Rousted from their barracks before dawn, not even Eskkar’s most loyal soldiers knew what today’s meeting portended.
He turned his thoughts back to the grove, and glanced toward the table. His wife showed not the least hint of anxiety, though she had planned and worked for almost two years to prepare for this meeting.
A dog barked, a deep sound powerful enough to frighten a wolf. Eskkar swung around to face the main farmhouse. Yavtar had emerged from the house, accompanied by two men. Each man carried a large platter, covered with a cloth to keep away the flies. The dog, black as a night demon, trotted over and rubbed against his master’s thigh for a moment before it settled down to match Yavtar’s pace.
Eskkar eyed the brute as they approached. Yavtar swore the animal was tame, but Eskkar had some bad experiences in his younger days with farm dogs, and he still distrusted anything that could rip the flesh from a man’s leg with a single bite. The two men accompanying Yavtar appeared to have similar doubts about the dog. They gave the creature plenty of space.
“Lord Eskkar,” Yavtar said when he drew near, “this is King Gemama of Sumer, and the leader of his soldiers, Lord Jarud.”
Gemama, bald, stout, and with a straggly white beard, looked exactly what he was, a rich merchant trader. Perspiration gleamed on his forehead, though he’d done little but walk to the grove. His stomach pressed hard against his spotless tunic stitched with a red and black design.
Once merely one of Sumer’s leading merchants, Gemama had been acclaimed ruler of Sumer by its people nine years ago, albeit encouraged in their choice by Trella’s agents. Yavtar had been one of those agents, and he and Gemama had already been trading partners and friends for many years. Without Akkad’s help, Gemama would have died, murdered by the Queen of Sumer. Instead he became Sumer’s ruler.
His companion, Jarud, had about fifty seasons, and he also looked as expected. A soldier first and last, he’d obviously grown up with a sword in his hand. In the same wave that swept Gemama to the kingship, Jarud rose from a newly assigned Captain of the Guard to commander of Sumer’s soldiers.
To everyone’s surprise, probably including their own, the trader-turned-king and the soldier-turned-leader had grown close over time, and for the last nine years had ruled the city of Sumer together. They had also restored prosperity to the inhabitants, who had suffered long under the harsh rule of their previous despotic and war-hungry leaders.
Eskkar had met neither man before, but numerous messages had passed between the two cities in those nine years. Trella’s agents, of course, had provided many details about Sumer’s leaders.
He forced a smile to his face and bowed to the visitors. “I thank you both for coming. Our other guest should be here soon.” Eskkar reached out and took the platter from King Gemama’s hands. No doubt it had been years since Gemama had lifted anything heavier than a leg of mutton or a slave girl’s breast. “Join us at the table.”
As Eskkar set the platter down, Trella stood. She bowed to the Sumerians, then helped arrange the platters.
“You should not have put our guests to work, Yavtar,” she chided him gently. “I could have carried the platters.”
“My wife just finished preparing them.” Yavtar took a seat at the table, the dog settling at his feet. “And none of us are too proud to carry our own food.”
Trella turned to her husband. “Yavtar has done well with the arrangements. We must find a way to thank him.”
Eskkar gazed at his wife. “I’m sure that asking him to risk his life a few more times will be more than enough thanks.”
She didn’t bother to reply to that. Trella recognized the small signs that indicated Eskkar’s anxiety, though he hid them well. She knew that he would be impassive enough in front of the others.
“It’s good to finally meet you, Lord Eskkar, Lady Trella.” King Gemama eased his bulk onto the largest chair he could find. He tossed the cloth off the nearest platter and inspected its contents — dark dates from the south, a bowl of apples, another of sweet cakes. “Ah, the famous Akkadian sweet cakes. There are none better in the land.”
Trella reached out and removed the other two cloths. The smell of fresh bread rose into the air. There were also bowls of honey for dipping. Two pitchers of water and two of wine completed the preparations.
“It is we who are in your debt, King Gemama.” Trella gave him a warm smile. “Though I am sorry that your visit to our lands comes at this time.”
“Yavtar has told us little, except that grave danger threatens all of us. We decided to accept your invitation, and find out for ourselves.”
“Sumer is peaceful enough.” Jarud broke off a hunk of bread and tested the honey. “No bandits, not even the usual pirate raid or two from the sea.”
A distant horn sounded, a low growl that floated over the water. Everyone glanced toward the canal.
“Naxos must be on his way in.” Yavtar pushed himself to his feet. “I’ll meet him at the jetty. He and Kuara can carry the rest of the food. The two of them will eat most of it anyway.” Yavtar headed back toward his house, to greet and fetch the remainder of their guests. He couldn’t quite manage to keep the smile off his face. The rest of the day promised to be very, very interesting, and he intended to enjoy every moment of it.
On the canal, a boat hove into sight and glided toward the shore, slipping gracefully through the water. The craft flew a pennant from its mast, the emblem of the City of Isin. A second boat appeared in its wake. One of Akkad’s fighting boats escorted the ship from Isin, and the two boats touched the dock at almost the same moment.
Following their orders, the Akkadian crew remained on board. From the other craft, two men jumped to the dock, one tall and powerfully built. He glanced around, left hand on the hilt of his sword, as if expecting trouble. Though Eskkar had not seen him in several years, he recognized King Naxos of Isin, ruler of the second most powerful city in the Land Between the Rivers.
Yavtar greeted the two men at the end of the jetty. But instead of escorting them to the grove, he led them past the house, where Yavtar’s plump wife met them at the door. She handed over two more platters and another pitcher. It took only a moment before the three men were again on their way to the grove.
Jarud chuckled. “That’s a sight I’ll never see again. King Naxos carrying a pitcher of wine.”
Eskkar had to smile as well. “I’m glad I didn’t go to the dock. Yavtar would have me carrying a platter, too.”
Everyone rose to greet the new arrivals. King Naxos, as tall and well-muscled as Eskkar and about the same age, thumped his pitcher down on the table, as if daring anyone to say something. His companion, however, had a broad smile on his face. For many years, Kuara acted as Chief Advisor to Naxos and the City of Isin.
Kuara had about the same number of seasons as Gemama and Yavtar, all in their late fifties. Unlike them, however, he also had fought in several battles. His right hand possessed only a thumb and forefinger, the other fingers sliced off by an enemy sword. As the story went, Kuara had still managed to kill his attacker. A long shock of gray hair reached to his shoulders, and a thick mustache half-covered his mouth.
“We thank you both for coming, King Naxos, Noble Kuara,” Lady Trella said. “Please, sit down. There is water and wine to refresh you.”
Naxos remembered his manners enough to bow. “It is good to see you again, Lady Trella. And you, Eskkar.” His gruff voice sounded out of place in the pleasant glade.