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En-hedu stood there, stunned. What could Tammuz do, with one good arm and only a knife? If there were trouble, he would…

She stepped back into the common room. One of the patrons saw her, and called out for another ale and something to eat. En-hedu stared at him unheedingly, then noticed his companion. The man carried a knife on his belt.

“I need to borrow this,” she said, moving so quickly that she’d pulled the green-tinged copper blade from the man’s belt before he even realized what she intended. “Kuri, stay here.” She tucked the knife inside her dress, clutching it tight against her body through the thin shift, holding it firmly from outside, and ran after Tammuz, ignoring the voices that called after her.

People filled the lanes. Many had eaten their evening meals and looked forward to a few hours of relaxation before turning in for the night. They frowned at En-hedu as she pushed and bumped her way through their midst, following the path she knew Tammuz would take toward Eskkar’s house.

The sun sank below the horizon. Already the daylight colors had faded, replaced by the grayness of shadows that began to cover everything.

At this time of day it would take some time to reach Eskkar’s residence, and she hurried as fast as she could, breathing hard as she weaved through the strollers. To her surprise, before she’d crossed three lanes, she saw Tammuz walking a few paces ahead of her. Relieved, she slowed to a walk. To add to her astonishment, he turned away from the lane that led to Eskkar’s.

She wondered what could have made him change his destination. About a dozen paces behind him, she opened her mouth to call his name, when…

“Gatus!” Tammuz yelled. “Look out!”

The shout froze everyone in the lane, but only for an instant. Then the dull clank of bronze on bronze shattered the peaceful evening. Tammuz darted ahead, drawing his knife. En-hedu broke into a run, fear rushing through her at what she might find.

A voice shouted in Egyptian, and she heard a man scream in pain as she reached the intersection where Tammuz had shouted. With scarcely enough light for her to see, En-hedu recognized Gatus, his back against a wall and a sword in his hand, fighting off Simut and his men. A man, Gatus’s bodyguard, lay writhing on the ground, bleeding, his cries for help ignored.

Gatus, fending off three men, was about to be overwhelmed when Tammuz slipped up behind one of Simut’s men and stabbed him hard in the back. The man screamed, and En-hedu saw blood gushing from his tunic. Simut saw the blow, and swung his sword at Tammuz, who ducked away from the cut. Seizing the opportunity, Gatus shifted to the opposite side, striking at the closest of his attackers. Gatus’s thrust drove the man back, giving the old soldier a chance to dodge aside and escape. But before he could get clear, the other Egyptian lunged at Gatus, driving his sword into the captain of the guard’s side. Gatus rammed the hilt of his sword into the man’s face with enough force to shove the man back into his companion. Then Gatus, clutching his side, whirled away, and disappeared up the lane, merging with the growing shadows.

Meanwhile, Simut turned to Tammuz, to finish off the youth who’d disrupted Simut’s ambush. He raised his sword and stepped toward Tammuz, slashing at his head. Tammuz stepped sideways as he jerked his knife from his victim’s back. Simut’s sword just missed, but the Egyptian had fought too many times to stake his life on a single blow. Moving smoothly, he followed up with a cross cut at Tammuz’s head, then lunged at Tammuz’s chest. Tammuz, his knife no match against his attacker’s sword, twisted away, trying to avoid the thrust, but he lost his balance and stumbled.

Unable to shift his weight, Tammuz landed hard, on his weak arm.

Simut, with a grunt of satisfaction, drew back his sword and thrust downward.

But before the blow could gather momentum, Simut’s easy kill turned into a hiss of pain. En-hedu, arriving at a run, had drawn the knife from her bosom, and shoved it with all her strength into Simut’s back, a hand’s width above his belt, feeling it sink to the hilt.

The thrust froze the Egyptian’s sword. For a moment he stood there, then with a grunt of pain he turned his blade toward his attacker, mortally wounded but still able to strike. Before the blow landed, Tammuz lunged up from the ground with his knife, burying his blade under Simut’s ribs.

With an incomprehensible curse, the man fell to the ground, the sword striking En-hedu weakly, but with the blade flat, before it slipped from his hand. En-hedu jerked her knife free from Simut’s body, feeling hot blood gush along her arm, and reached Tammuz’s side, helping him to his feet. Gatus had slipped away, his two remaining attackers vanishing after him in pursuit. Half a dozen onlookers, stunned into silence, stared openmouthed into the gathering darkness at the three men lying dead or dying before them.

Tammuz took one look around, shoved the bloody knife in his belt, then grasped En-hedu’s arm. In a moment, they, too, faded into the growing shadows at a run, leaving the shocked and surprised inhabitants to wonder what they’d just witnessed.

Weaving between the unconcerned strollers, Tammuz guided En-hedu down one lane, then changed direction to another. En-hedu looked behind them, but saw nothing. They slowed to a brisk walk. No one noticed them. Here, one lane away, the commotion had gone unheard.

“We’ve got to get to Eskkar’s house,” Tammuz whispered. “Trella needs to…”

“What about Gatus?” En-hedu realized she still clutched her knife in her hand. She stuffed it back inside the bodice of her dress, shivering as the hot blood still on the blade dripped between her breasts. She had to force the image of Simut’s face, showing a mixture of pain and hatred, from her mind. “I saw him run up the lane, with the Egyptians in pursuit.”

“We can’t do anything about him,” Tammuz said, moving her along faster as he got his breath back. “Either he got away, or they’ve caught up with him by now. We need to warn Trella.”

En-hedu realized they’d gone back the way they came, then closed in on Eskkar’s house. The lane twisted and turned, but only one more intersection lay between them and their destination. As Eskkar’s house came into sight, sounds of violence erupted from just outside the gate. They saw a half-dozen men fighting at the courtyard entrance. Tammuz started forward, then stopped, as a wall of Egyptians pushed past them from behind, knocking Tammuz and En-hedu aside in their haste. Tammuz covered En-hedu with his body and pressed her against the wall. They both watched in horror as dozens of foreign soldiers, swords in their hands, charged toward Eskkar’s house. Before Tammuz or En-hedu could overcome their shock and surprise, the Egyptians had raced up and overwhelmed the Akkadians defending Eskkar’s household.

Earlier, when Korthac left his house a little before dusk, he strode past the woman his men called En-hedu without observing her or any of the other vendors. Accompanied by only two guards, his eyes scanned the lane, alert for any signs of danger, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. No longer a stranger, he wended his way through the twisting lanes almost unnoticed by the people of Akkad. The few that did give him a glance didn’t perceive the long knife fastened beneath his tunic.

The marketplace stood nearly deserted as Korthac passed through it, heading toward the river gate. On the way, he encountered several of Akkad’s soldiers, most of them unarmed, and none of whom even glanced at him. By now Korthac knew their routine. They would have finished their duties for the day and already eaten dinner in the barracks’ common room. Now they would search out their favorite alehouses, to enjoy a few hours’ relaxation before heading for their beds and another night’s sleep.

Arriving at Akkad’s rear gate, Korthac found it half-open. Though both gates should have been sealed at dusk, the river gate often stayed open a few extra hours. The guards had pushed the one side closed, but left the other side accessible. People continued to walk in and out, some heading for the river to bathe, while others strolled along the bank, taking their ease or conducting business of a personal nature.