“We have a bold plan to hold back the enemy coming through the Jkarian Pass,” Trella said. “But it would be best if we do not speak of that now, Draelin. You will learn all about it this afternoon. Now we will spend the rest of today and tomorrow, if need be, to discuss the rest of our plans, and the role each of you will play in the coming fight. All of you have plenty of experience in fighting, and we must all draw upon that knowledge.”
Eskkar straightened up and crossed his arms. “For almost three years, King Shirudukh of Elam has planned our downfall. He thinks we are weak, that we will tremble in fear at the size of his armies. But the surprise will be his, when he finds out we are united and ready for his invasion. And when Elam’s armies are driven back, I intend to lead an army of as many men as we can raise into Elam, and teach Shirudukh what fate awaits anyone who attacks Akkad.”
Chapter 11
Twenty-five days later. .
When the order came to halt, Orodes breathed a sigh of relief, grateful to slide down from the horse and give his backside a rest. While the richest man in Akkad knew enough about horses for a man raised inside the city’s walls, he lacked both the skill and experience to ride day after day over rough terrain. Still and all, the trip through the steep hills and cliffs offered enough danger even for an experienced horseman. Fortunately, on this expedition, all Orodes had to do was follow the horse in front of him.
Along the long and crooked line of men and horses, riders swung down from their mounts and stretched. Orodes handed his horse’s halter to the soldier assigned to care for the animal, and walked the forty or so paces needed to reach the head of the column.
A huge jumble of fallen rocks blocked the way forward. A steep cliff rose up on his right hand side, with a sharp drop on his left. One glance told him they had reached their destination. Or rather the start of their journey. Now the hard work, Orodes’s work, would begin.
He recalled the first day he saw the mine at Nuzi, and knew that he alone of all the miners in Akkad understood how to rip the ores from the earth’s bosom. Since those days, Orodes’s skills had grown even sharper.
Others would have abandoned the Nuzi mine when the easy veins of gold played out, but he had devised a way to extract high quality silver from the ores, digging his tunnels ever deeper into the earth. Without the gold and silver that flowed from Nuzi into Lady Trella’s coffers, the Akkadian war against Sumer would have been lost.
Now Orodes was expected to save Akkad a second time. To this end, Lady Trella had plucked him once again, this time from his wealth and comfort, and sent him riding south, with a new challenge. In his absence, servants and apprentices in Nuzi would keep the silver flowing from the mine. Trella demanded an expert in working with rock and stone, chisel and hammer. Now the time for him to begin his task had arrived.
Orodes reached the head of the column and stared upward at the rocks that had, over the years, cascaded down from the cliff, making what little path they followed into the foothills impassable for the horses. Luka, the young man guiding the expedition, stood with hands on his hips, staring up at the rocks.
Orodes joined him. “Is this the place?”
“This is it.” Luka raised his hand and pointed. A bronze chisel protruded from the rock face. “There’s my mark.”
“Are you sure?”
A few soldiers standing nearby and watching with interest at the first obstacle, chuckled at Orodes’s question, and he realized that his words sounded a bit childish. Who else would have hammered a piece of bronze into a rock in the middle of nowhere? Not that Orodes cared what a bunch of soldiers believed or said. With his wealth, he could afford to ignore what others thought about him.
“Yes, this is the place.”
Luka looked barely old enough to know how to wipe his bottom, but Orodes knew the man had nineteen seasons, and probably a wife or two back in Akkad. Luka had fought as a slinger in the battle against the Alur Meriki two years ago, so Orodes had to treat him as a veteran. More important, Luka had managed to climb or crawl his way over every jumble of rocks in these foothills until he reached the Great Sea.
At least, that’s what he told King Eskkar and Lady Trella. Most travelers thought these hills impenetrable. Orodes still had his doubts about Luka’s claim.
“Well, Orodes, we’re here.” Daro, the leader of the sixty soldiers and twenty supply men that comprised the remainder of the little expedition, moved up to join Luka and Orodes. “Now it’s up to you. What do we do next?”
His mind already at work, Orodes ignored the soldier’s words. All the same, Daro’s presence on this enterprise had aroused Orodes’s curiosity. Daro’s background as an archer, and his experience with boats should have seen him assigned to some task on the river. Instead, he had received this command, that of supporting Orodes and his laborers as they dug their way to the Great Sea.
Orodes had attempted to talk to Daro about his orders, but the soldier merely smiled, and repeated the same meaningless words that Orodes had received from Trella. Namely, how important it was for Orodes to be successful. Part of Orodes wondered what Daro’s orders would be in the event of failure. But the time for those questions had passed.
Instead Orodes stared at the rocks blocking their way. They looked impassable, but he had dug his way through worse obstacles before. Ripping gold and silver ores from the bowels of the earth had taught him more than once that what seemed impossible at first glance often yielded soon enough to men’s concentrated efforts. Especially when directed by a master miner such as himself.
“I need to see what’s ahead.” Orodes moved to the boulders blocking the way, placed his hands on their surface, and examined the rocks. He recognized the quartz, of course, and more than a few slabs of hematite.
In the last two days of journeying through these foothills, he had seen the concentration of salt-bearing rocks increase, easily visible by the rapid erosion that left cracks and gaps in the cliff and streaks of white scattered across their surface. Over time, those gaps would grow, until a chunk of the cliff wall could no longer support its own weight, and then a section would come tumbling down, usually shattering into hundreds of pieces. Exactly what had happened here.
The good news, if there were to be anything good about this expedition, was that all these types of rocks could be worked. Skill and experience would be needed, but Orodes knew he had both qualities. As for the rest of the soldiers, they’d learn soon enough. He’d endured plenty of their jests and followed too many of their wearisome orders in the last sixteen days. Now they would obey his. He’d make sure they put their backs into it.
“Let’s get started.” Orodes gestured to Luka.
“Follow me.” Luka began climbing. He moved up the steep surface like a mountain goat, scarcely using his hands to help his ascent.
Orodes tried to follow his example. Before he reached a quarter of the way up, he slipped and burned the skin from his hand trying to stop his slide. Back where he started, Orodes took a deep breath, and ignored the glib mutterings behind him. That would stop soon enough. Once the work started, every soldier would be carrying rocks from dawn to dusk.
He climbed again, this time moving with greater care and making sure his feet had a firm grip for every step. Just before setting out from Akkad, Orodes had complained to his shoemaker about the high price of the thick leather sandals protecting his feet, but now he thanked the gods for the sturdy leather. Nevertheless, Orodes kept his eyes on his footing, glancing up now and then to make sure he followed in Luka’s steps.
At last Orodes, breathing hard, reached the top, about twenty-five paces above the soldiers below. Luka extended his hand down to help, and Orodes, ten seasons older and in much weaker physical condition, was not too proud to accept.