Best of all, the purpose lacking in his life returned. Since he’d crippled his arm, he’d held little hope for the future. Though he’d undertaken the assignment at the alehouse, he’d done so more to please Eskkar and Lady Trella than out of any conviction he would ever accomplish anything of importance. Now he saw how he could make a difference, how what he did today, and would do in the future, could help protect the vision Eskkar and Trella wished for Akkad.
Watching En-hedu day after day, he began to comprehend the mysterious ways of women. And the more he learned, the more he understood how Eskkar commanded Trella’s affections. The tiny hint of jealousy he’d always felt for Akkad’s ruler disappeared with that new knowledge.
With the alehouse in good hands and running smoothly, Tammuz spent several hours a day shadowing the inn where Korthac stayed, or the river where he traded his gemstones. One morning, after Korthac departed for his business at the docks, Tammuz tried to enter the inn, ostensibly to buy food, but the Egyptian guarding the door stopped him with a hand on his chest. Before Tammuz could even plead his case, the inn’s owner, standing behind the guard, called out for Tammuz to leave, informing him that, at present, the inn served only Korthac and his men.
Frustrated, Tammuz decided to risk another, more direct, approach.
One of his customers, Sargat, a young man only a season or two older than Tammuz, made his living by thieving at night. Agile and strong, Sargat could hang by his fingertips and pull himself up and over any roof in Akkad. As quiet as a mouse, he could see in the dark better than most. Sargat had slipped into many a house without waking its inhabitants, collected what he could, and left as silently as he entered.
In order to entice Sargat, Tammuz invented a story about a trader who competed with Korthac, sought information about the secretive Egyptian, and would pay well for anything Sargat could learn.
“If you can discover anything, see anything, fi nd out what their plans are, or even what these Egyptians are doing, this man will pay well for the information.” As Tammuz finished, he slid a silver coin across the table to Sargat. “And if you happen to pick up any of his goods, my patron will be glad to buy them from you.”
Sargat reached for the silver, but Tammuz put his hand over the coin.
“Not until you return. And you’ll have to be careful. Korthac has guards everywhere, and they look as if they’d do more than just break a few bones if they catch you.”
The thief nodded in understanding; he’d seen Korthac’s men in the lanes.
A little after midnight that night, while Tammuz waited at the far end of the lane, Sargat took to the roofs and made his way toward the inn, vanishing into the darkness. Tammuz squatted down to wait. The better part of an hour passed without a sound. Suddenly he heard voices, then something falling with a crash, but all too muted to wake anyone sleeping nearby. Nevertheless, he knew something had gone awry.
Tammuz pushed himself to his feet, cursing at whatever unknown problem had occurred, and anxiously scanned the rooftops. A shadow blocked the moonlight for an instant, and Tammuz caught a glimpse of a dark shape running along the rooftop.
By now a light burned in the inn, and Tammuz heard the door bang open. His heart began beating faster, and he took off down the lane, running as fast as he could and trying to make as little noise as possible. When he felt sure he wasn’t being followed, he slipped through the streets and back to the alehouse. Kuri waited there, the door unbarred. Sargat was already inside, his breathing still audible as he tried to catch his breath.
Tammuz led the thief into his private room, while En-hedu watched the lane and Kuri guarded the door. The two men sat in the darkness.
“What happened?” Tammuz kept his voice to a whisper. “Did you learn anything?”
“I almost got killed. They were up in a moment, looking…”
Tammuz heard the fear in the young man’s voice. “Tell me what happened. You were gone long enough.”
Sargat took a deep breath. Tammuz poured the thief a cup of ale, then watched as Sargat gulped it down without pausing. The strong brew calmed him, and he took a few more breaths before going on.
“I got inside. One of Korthac’s men was on guard below, watching the roof hole. But he looked ready to doze off, so I waited until his head began to nod, and I slipped past him.”
Tammuz hadn’t expected anyone to be guarding the roof. The fl imsy wood and vine rooftops creaked and swayed with every movement, and made plenty of noise. Only someone with a slight figure, like Sargat, who knew how to move silently and with patience, could traverse the delicate rafters without waking those below. Tammuz puzzled over why Korthac would place a guard over the roof ’s entrance, since only an exceptional thief could gain entrance that way. “You could have been caught. You weren’t supposed to…”
“I know,” Sargat went on, “but he was breathing like a sleeper, so I felt sure I could get past. Besides, there was nothing to see from the roof, just a room full of sleeping men all snoring away. But when I climbed down the ladder, I saw two more men guarding the door, and another standing before one of the private rooms.”
Tammuz felt a tingle go through him. Four guards, on watch during the night. He’d never heard of such a thing. No merchant, no noble kept that many men awake during darkness.
“Then what happened?”
“Nothing. With three or four men on guard, I decided to get out. I started back up the ladder, but the wood creaked, and the guard jumped, you know, the way you do when you wake suddenly. I scrambled up the ladder. Then I heard a crash. The guard swung his sword and nearly got my leg. He came up the ladder after me in an instant, and I ran. I heard him stumbling behind me, but I took to the ledges.”
Tammuz knew the rest. Sargat could outrun anyone across a rooftop.
“You’re lucky you weren’t caught. I told you not to take any chances.”
“What about my coin? Will you still pay me the silver?”
“Yes, you’ve earned it. Maybe even more. Stay here, I’ll…”
En-hedu slipped into the room. “Keep silent,” she whispered. “There are men with swords in the lane, looking about. Stay here and don’t move about.” She went back into the common room.
Tammuz felt his heart pounding in his chest. How had they tracked him here? Could he have been followed? He heard Sargat’s rapid breathing and reached out and gripped the thief ’s arm. “Stay still, and don’t make a sound,” he ordered.
They sat like that, not moving, not making a sound, until En-hedu returned. “They’ve gone. They’re checking all the houses on the street, putting their ears to the doors, listening. Thank the gods your customers are still snoring their ale away.”
So Korthac’s guards hadn’t followed him, Tammuz realized. They’d just headed to the places most likely to be frequented by thieves. They weren’t listening for sounds, but for the absence of sounds. If they found a place without the little murmurs of slumber, they would have forced their way in. He wondered who gave them the idea, then answered the thought himself. Korthac. Only he would have the cunning to think of such things.
Something else occurred to him. “Sargat, you’re not cut or anything, are you?” Tammuz, still worried about anyone overhearing, kept his voice to a whisper.
“No, the sword missed by a handbreadth, thank the lazy god who watches over thieves. Though my tunic got torn, and…”
“Show me,” En-hedu ordered, startling both men.
Sargat fingered his shoulder. “It caught when the ladder slipped, probably on some splinter or a nail. I heard it rip.”
“Don’t leave the alehouse,” En-hedu said. “Tomorrow I’ll get you a new tunic.”
“Why, what’s the matter?” Sargat asked.
Tammuz took a moment to catch up with his slave. “They’ll be walking the lanes tomorrow, looking for someone with a torn sleeve. If they saw that… you’ll stay inside the alehouse for a few days. If any of the Egyptians come wandering in here, they’ll find nothing.”