92
    
    I)ARRY TURTLcOove
    
     "But Enimhursag, stupid ugly blind fool of a god that he is, d
    even know he's won, Mushezib said with a scornful laugh.
    back there in his temple in Imhursag, hiding under the th
    his thumb in his mouth."
     Such cheerful blasphemy, aimed at a god Sharur despi
    all others, was bracing as a draught of strong wine. And
    captain was likely to be right; Enimhursag's followers had bee
    and truly fooled, which meant, at such a remove from his own
    that their god was also almost sure to be well and truly fooled
    gave Sharur some consolation: some, but not enough.
    
    As the caravan wound its way out of the mountains of Alas
    toward the lower, flatter land to the east, eerie laughter floated
    out of the sky. Sharur stared this way and that, but could not s
    demo'n. Nevertheless, he shook his fist and cried out, "I curs
    Illuyankas demon of this land, by your name I curse you for
    me. May you eat the bread of death for mocking me, llluyank
    mon of this land; may you drink the beer of dying. May you
    turn pale, like a cut-down tamarisk, Illuyankas demon of this
    may your lips turn dark, like a bruised reed. May the gods smi
    with the might of their land. I curse you, Illuyankas demon
    land, by your name I curse you for mocking me."
     Only silence after that, silence and the sound of the bree
    through saplings. "That is a strong curse, master merchan
    Harharu said, "a strong curse, but one you shaped with c
     Sharur nodded. "Yes. Not having seen Illuyankas, I cannot
    tain that demon is the one whose laughter we heard. I would
    a curse on a demon for something of which that demon is inn
    If Illuyankas was not the demon mocking us, the curse will
     As always, the herders who roamed the land beyond the re
    life-giving water from the Yarmuk and its lesser tributaries
    caravan as a hawk overhead eyed a shape on the ground,~w
    whether it was a hare that would be easy to kill or a fox that
    fight back. The guards carried their shields and their weapo
    wore their helmets, suggesting that any of the wanderers
    attack would pay dearly.

    




    e
    
    U
    is
    
    g
    
    ,AN'
    
   e.
    of
    the
    ing
    uld
    and
    ight
    
    BETWEEM TbE! RIVERS
    
    93
    
     The lean, fierce herders were persuaded. When they approached
    Sharur's donkey train, it was to trade sheep and cattle for trinkets.
    "You will have nothing better for us than the scraps of your goods,
    not coming east from out of the mountains," one of their leathery
    chieftains said. "It is always thus-the men of Kudurru gain more
    for their goods in the mountains than here, and more for the goods
    of the mountains in Kudurru than here. This leaves us with little
    but what we take for ourselves." His eyes were bright and fierce
    and avid.
     "If you try to rob us, what you will take for yourself and your
    kinsmen are wounds and sorrow," Sharur said. Mushezib strutted by
    then, not quite by chance, looking as if even a hundred herdsmen
    might not be able to pull him down.
     "It could be done," the chieftain said. Sharur gestured with one
    hand, casually, as if to answer, Well, what if it could? The chieftain
    sighed. "As you say, it would cost us dear. Strange how those who
    have so much fight so hard to keep those who have little from getting
    any more."
     "As strange how those who have little think they deserve more
    without working for it," Sharur returned. The herder showed his
    teeth, as a desert fox might have done. Sharur kept his voice elab-
    orately calm: "By the will of the gods, we have with us a few finer
    things than usual. Would you see them?"
     "Only if it pleases you to show them," the herder replied, sounding
    as indifferent as Sharur. That was how the game went. "If it would
    be too much bother, you need not trouble yourself."
     "They might amuse you," Sharur said, and the chieftain did not
    say no. Sharur set out before him date wine and medicine and linen
    cloth-the herders did more than his own people with wool. He also
    set out a few, a very few, swords and knives, as if to suggest that the
    Alashkurrut had acquired the rest.
     "True, these are not things traders show us every day," the herder
    chieftain said. He looked down at the ground to disguise the eager
    glow in his eyes. But, tent-dwelling nomad though he was, he was
    neither a blind man nor a fool. "All these things come from the land
    between the river. Nothing comes from the high country." He
    pointed first east, then west. "By the will of the gods, you say, you

    




    94
    
    1,13,RRY TUnTLoOove
    
    have these things to show us. Was it the will of the gods that
    not trade in the mountains?"
     The herders did not know gods well, or, to put it another way
    gods hardly found the herders worth noticing. The chieftain sn
    as he asked the question. But the smile disappeared when, in a s
    voice, Sharur replied, "Yes, that was the will of the gods."
     "Ah." The herder plucked at his beard. He had dyed red sti
    in it with henna. Turning away from Sharux, he entered into a i
    pered colloquy with some of his own people. When he turned I
    his face was troubled. Slowly, he said, "It may be that you ar(
    lucky men. It may be that any who trade with you will not be)
    men. They are fine goods." He sighed regretfully. "They
 goods, but, as with robbing you of them, they might cost us de
     He and the herders he led vanished into the night, a few at a
     until they were all gone. Mushezib said, "Well, we won't ne
     worry so much about the cursed thieves this time through, anj
     They're as bad as the Zuabut, sometimes."
     That was the best face anyone could put on it. Sharur wrapp
    the weapons and nostrums and wine and cloth the herders ha
    wanted. "I shall return to Gibil in failure," he said. "Better I s
    not return at all."
     "Your father will not say this, master merchant's son H,
    answered. "Your mother will not say this. Your kinsfolk will n
    this. They would sooner greet you in the flesh than hear your
    whine in their ears. In the flesh, you may yet redeem yoursel
    so, no doubt, you shall."
     Harharu might not have had any doubts. Sharur was full of
    The donkeymaster had meant the words kindly, though,
    Sharur inclined his head to him and said nothing more than,
    we shall go on." He nodded. That sounded right. Seeing hin
    the brief moment of self-pity behind himself, Harharu noddec
    
    The morning sun shone off the Yarmuk River, turning its
    water to molten silver. As he had done on the westbound j(
    Sharur brought his caravan to the Yarmuk at the little-us(
    north of the city of Aggasher rather than to the usual crossin,,

    




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    by the city. He did not know what Eniaggasher, the goddess ruling
    the city, might do to him and his men, and he was not anxious to
    learn.
     When'he drew near the river, a frog leapt in from the nearby
    mudflat. Ripples ruffled the silver surface, then subsided. All was calm
    once more. Sharur brought a bracelet to the water's edge and said,
    "For thee, Eniyarmuk, to adorn thyself and make thyself more beau-
    tiful." He tossed the sacrifice into the river.
     Ripples spread from the bracelet, as they had when the frog leaped
    into the river. Unlike those ripples, these did not subside. They grew
    larger instead. More appeared, more and more and more, till the
    surface of the Yarmuk might have been the sea in a storm. But it was
    not the sea, and no storm roiled it.
     Something flew out of the river to land at the feet of Sharur, who
    had jumped back away from the water's edge when the unnatural
    tumult started. Now, as it eased, he stooped and picked up the brace-
    let he had offered to the river goddess.
     "Eniyarmuk has rejected the sacrifice!" he exclaimed, blank aston-
    ishment in his voice. "What do we do now?"
     "One thing we don't do, I reckon," Agum. the caravan guard said:
    "I don't reckon we try and cross the river right now."
     Harharu said, "I don't know how we are to return to Gibil without
    crossing the Yarmuk River." He stared at the stream. "I have never
    heard of Eniyarmuk rejecting a crossing-offering, never in all my
    days."
     "Can we cross anyway?" Mushezib asked.
     "I wouldn't care to try it," Sharur said. He thought of the storm
    the goddess had raised in the river, and of what such a storm-or a
    greater storm-would do to the men and donkeys of the caravan. "If
    the goddess is angry, we would be no more than toys in her hands."
     Mushezib, a true man of Gibil, growled, "The goddess is a stupid
     bitch." But even he realized he had gone too far, for a moment later
     he hastily added, "But we can't fight her, that's certain sure. No man
     can take a goddess by force."
     "There you speak truth," Sharur agreed. He stood on the riverbank
     and pondered.
     "Even a woman taken by force isn't all that much fun," Mushezib

    




    96
    
    OaRRy TuRTLeOove
    
    went on, more to himself than to anyone else. "They screa
    they kick and they wail and they try and bite-more troub]
    they're worth, if you ask me." He came out of his reverie when
    darted back toward one of the donkeys. "What are you doing,
    merchant's son?"
     "Taking a woman by force is more trouble than it's worth,
    say," Sharur replied. "Sometimes, though, if you go with h
    tavern and buy her wine, she will smile and be happy, and y(
    no need to take her by force." He carried a sloshing jar dowr
    bank of the Yarmuk.
     Using the point of his knife, he chipped pitch away from d
    per until he could pry it up. The rich sweetness of fermentc
    filled his nostrils. He walked upstream from the ford, perhar
    bowshot, then bowed low and, with great ceremony, poured t'
    into the water. That done, he tossed a stick into the river:
    lowed it back until it had drifted past the place where the
    waited to cross.
     When it was past the ford, he waved men and donkeys-
    saying, "Eniyarmuk has now drunk a jar of wine. If she is
    sozzled to take notice of a few mortal men, she never will
    slipped out of his own kilt and sandals and led the first don".
    the river.
     He knew what the goddess could do if she was not too s(
    take notice of a few mortal men. His fear grew with every
    he believed she would do it if she was not too sozzled to tak
    of him. Those thoughts did not fill his mind alone, either.
    and Mushezib called out to their men with quiet urgency,
    ever greater speed. The donkey handlers and guards wot
    pressed ahead without those admonitions; with them, the)
    harder. Even the donkeys acted less balky than usual.
     Sharur came up onto the dry land-well, the muddy land
    eastern bank of the Yarmuk. A great sigh of relief gusted
    lungs. He hauled on the lead line to bring the first donkey c
    water. The others, and the rest of the caravan crew, followec
    succession.
     "Come on," Sharur told them. "We're not done yet. Let's

    




    13ETWEEM TbC RIVERS
    
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    from the river, as far as we can, before we get into our clothes and
    
    set eve thing to rights."
    
    "Good thinking, master merchant's son," Mushezib said. "Don't
    
    want to be close by when the river goddess sobers up, no I don't. You
    get a woman drunk and have vour wav with her she's liable to be
    
    angry in the moming, ves she is."
    
     "Just so, " Sharur agreed. Naked still, he pushed the pace begrudg-
    ing the time he would need to pause and belt on his kilt. The sun
    quickly dried the Yarmuk's water on his body. The drier the better he
    
    I
    
    thought: less lingering contact between himself and Eni,,armuk's do-
    
    main.
    
     He chanced to be looking back over his shoulder when the river
    goddess realized he had muddled her wits and deceived her. The
    surface of the Yarmuk suddenly boiled and frothed. Water leapt into
    the air, then splashed down. In unmistakable fury, the river began to
    pursue the caravan. Men and donkevs cried out in alarm together
    
    and hurried eastward as fast as they could go.
    
    to
    
     to
    for
    tice
    aru
    ing
    ave
    ssed
    
    f Lhe
     his
    f the
    rapid
    
     So long as the questing tentacle of river remained in the bed the
    Yarmuk occupied during full flood, it came on after them more swiftly
    than their best pace. Beyond the riverbed, though, the fierce flow
    faltered: outside her domain, Eniyarmuk's power was much dimin-
    ished. At last, sullenly, the waters drew back toward their proper
    
     Panting, sweating, Sharur held up a hand. We have escaped th
    anger of the river goddess," he said. "Let us give thanks and rejoice
    
     The hymn rang out, loud and triumphant. Only when it wa
    through, only after he had covered his nakedness, did Sharur thint
    to wonder about the propriety of praising one god for having escapec
    (no, for having beaten, the defiant part of his mind thought, thougl
    
     "Master merchant's son, your cleverness let us get by no sma
    problem there," Harharu said. "Had we not got past Eniyarmuk, we
    might have had to go down to the regular ford, and then we would
    have had to go under the eye of Eniaggasher. That likely would have
    
    eK I

    




    i
    
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    b&RRY TURTLC0OVC=
    
     "No doubt, Sharur said. "He will be proud of me for going up
    into the mountains of Alashkurru and coming back down with the
    same goods I took up. He will be proud of me for coming back without
    copper, without copper ore. He will be proud of me for coming back
    down without rich things, strange things, unusual things, to lay o~
    the altar of Engibil." Ningal will be proud of me for coming back withoul
    her bride-price.
     Quietly, the donkeymaster said, "He will be proud of you for doing
    as well as you could, for doing as well as you did, in harsh circum,
    stances not of your making."
     "Were those circumstances not partly of my making?" Shatul
    asked. "Did I not go up into the mountains of Alashkurru before',
    Did I not speak with the Alashkurrut? Did I not show them what w(
    men of Gibli are, by my words, by my deeds? Did I not help mak(
    some of them want to be like us Giblut? Did I not help frighten theii
    gods because some of them wanted to be like us Giblut?"
     Harharu. bowed his head. "If you are determined to be angry a
    yourself, master merchant's son, I cannot stop you. If you are deter
    mined to cast scorn upon yourself, I cannot prevent it." He stro4,
    off to check on the donkeys, which, while stubborn, knew not bi
    terness nor worry ahead of time.
     Sharur strode on, alone no'matter how close the rest of the caraval
    might be. What would his father say, what would his father do, whet
    he came home from the mountains without having been able to tradi
    the goods the Alashkurrut were known to crave? Caravans had coo,
    back to Gibil with less profit than they might have (though nevd'~
    one headed by a man of his clan). Caravans, sometimes, had faile(
    to come back to Gibil at all, having met with robbers in the moun
    tains or the desert. But never, so far as Sharur knew, had a caravai
    returned without doing business.
     And what would Kimash the lugal say? Kimash had relied on A
    to bring rich things, strange things, unusual things back to Gibil t(
    lay on the altar of Engibil. The lugal had said as much, when
    caravan was just departing his father's house. Shatur had failed
    mash, too, and in failing Kimash had failed the men of Gib I Fo
                                        V_ 'i Jg
    Engibil grew discontented with Kimash's rule of the cit, -if t
    grew discontented with the way Kimash praised and rewarded him

    




    _6CTWCCM The RiLveRs
    
   he god might yet rise up and, instead of resting comfortably and
    ily in his temple, as he had been wont to do for three generations
    of men, might walk through Gibil as Enzuabu walked through Zuabu.
    He might seize men's spirits, as Enimhursag seized the spirits of the
    Irnhursagut. And the little freedom the men of Gibil had known
    
     Grim though that prospect was, it was not the prospect uppermost
    in Sharur's mind. What would Ningal say, when he came home from
    the mountains without the bride-price to pay to Dimgalabzu her fa-
    ther? Sharur had sworn a great oath to Engibil to earn that bride,
    price with the profit from this caravan. Now he came home without
      r. r                                    I
    
    W ouict imgaIaDzu give her to another
    
    r icked at the dirt. The smith would be within his rights.
    
    "But he can't!" Sharur exclaimed.
    
    e
    
    an
    
    rne
    ver
    led
    
    1111-
     an
    
    him
     it to
     the
     Ki-
     or if
     gibil
     im-
    
    "Who can't, master merchant's son?" Harharu asked. "And what
    
    can't he do?"
    
     "Never mind." Sharur's ears went hot at having let others see into
    his thoughts. The trouble was, Dimgalabzu could. And, if he decided
    to, Sharur would not be able to do anything about it. Muttering curses
    that surely would not bite on the gods of the Alashkurrut, he trudged
    
    east toward Gibil
    
    When the caravan entered the territory ruled by Zuabu, Sharur felt
    he might as well be home. After so long among so many stranger
    peoples, the Zuabut seemed as familiar to him as his next-door neigh-
    bors along the Street of Smiths. His comrades must have felt the
    same, for almost to a man they were grinning and laughing among
    themselves as they automatically took the precautions they needed
    
    to keep the Zuabut from stealing them blind.
    
     "Keep your eyes open, boys," Mushezib called to the caravan
    guards under him. "We all know the stories about the caravans that
    came into the land of Zuabu with a profit and went out with a loss,
    even though they hadn't done any trading while they were there.
    That isn't going to happen to us ... What are you making horrible
    
    faces about Apum? Donkev stenning on vour-? Oh."
    
    Mushezib shut un several sentences too late Sharur also intent

    




    100
    
    bz,R-Ry TuR-rLe0ovc
    
    on making sure the Zuabut could have no fun with their light fingers,
    pretended he had not heard the guard captain. This caravan could
    hardly see its profit disappear in Zuabu, for it had no profit. Making
    a loss worse somehow seemed much less important, even if the value
    vanishing from the caravan was the same in either case.
     As had been true when he was setting out for the Alashkurru
    Mountains, Sharur could have taken the caravan into the city of
    Zuabu to spend a night. As he had then, he camped away from the
    city. Then, he had begrudged what he would have to pay for food
    and lodging. He still did, but he had more pressing reasons for avoid-
    ing the city now. He did not want to, he did not dare to, enter into
    Enzuabu's center on earth, not after the city god had sent such a
    menacing stare his way on his westbound journey, and most especially
    not after everything that had happened since.
     As had been true then, so now someone shook him out of sou d
    sleep. As had been true then, it was Agum. now. What he s
    though, was something any caravan guard might have said on
    journey through Zuabu: "Master merchant's son, we've caugh
    thief."
     Sharur yawned till he thought his head would split in two. "Why
    tell me about it? Give the fellow a beating and send him on his way.
    He'll try to steal from the next caravan that comes through, but he
    won't try stealing from us again."
                                             n' ,
                                             aid
                                              ay
                                             ny
                                             t
    
     "Master merchant's son, we were going to do as you say, the very
    thing, but then the wretch had the nerve to claim Enzuabu ordered
    him to steal from us, and that the god would punish him if he failed."
    Agum made a small, unhappy sound. "What with all that's gone on ;
    this trip, we thought you had better see him."
     With a sigh, Sharur got to his feet. He did not
    
                                                  bother pulling oni
    his kilt, but followed Agum naked to the fire beside which three more
    guards were holding down the thief Yet another guard fed dry ree
    and small dead bushes into the fire to build it up and throw m
    light on the Zuabi.
     He was a small, skinny man, supple as a ferret and with a face
    match. "He looks as if he'd steal from us whether Enzuabu orderfd
    him to do it or not," Sharur remarked to Agum.

    




    13ETWEEM TbC RIVERS
    
    d
    
    a
    
    ore
    
    cc to
     ered
    
     "So he does," Agum agreed. The guards holding the man shook
    him till the teeth rattled in his head. Agum put a growl in his voice:
    "You cursed river leech, you tell the master merchant's son the lies
    you've been grizzling out to the rest of us."
     'Yes, lord, the Zuabi said, as if Agum were his ensi. "I am a thief.
    I am the best of thieves. Would Enzuabu have chosen me were I less?
    Would Enzuabu pull a plow with a hen, or make a pot out of beer? I
    was suited to my god's purpose, and his voice sounded in my mind,
    summoning me to his temple, that he might give me orders there. I
    obey my god in all things. I went to the temple, and he gave me
    orders there."
     "And what were the orders he gave you?" Sharur asked.
     "Lord, he told me a caravan of Giblut was encamped outside Zu-
    abu, in such,and-such a place at such-and-such a distance. He told
    me to rob this caravan of Giblut. He told me you Giblut oppose the
    gods, and that robbing you Giblut is only right and proper because
    of this. He told me your caravan had in it rich goods of your city,
    and that robbing it would profit him and me alike."
     Sharur scowled. The thief had been caught before he could rob
    the caravan. How could he know what goods it had, unless Enzuabu
    told him? Unless Enzuabu told him, would he not think it had goods
    from the mountains of Alashkurru? His words were too much like
    those Shatur had heard from gods and demons for comfort.
     "You have not robbed us," Sharur said. "What will Enzuabu do
    with you, now that you have failed?"
     "Lord"-the thief shuddered in the grasp of his captors-"he will
    -smite me with boils, and with carb
    ,,my concubine and my children."
    
    uncles he will smite my wife and
    
    In a judicious voice, Sharur said, "Would it not be fitting, then,
    to send you away from this place, to send you back to Zuabu, to let
    your own god punish you as you deserve? In some cities, the gods
    punish thieves who succeed. Only in Zuabu does the god punish
    thieves who fail."
    Agum and the other guards laughed. The thief wailed. "Have
    mercy on a man who sought only to obey the command of his god!"
    he cried.

    




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    1)&RRY TURT-LcOove
    
     "You would have tried to rob us anyhow," Agum said roughly.
    "You deserve your boils, and may your concubine get a carbuncle on
    her twat."
     The guards laughed again. But Sharur held up
    laughter stopped. If Enzuabu had sent out the thief, Enzuabu deserve
    the punishment. And, deliciously, Sharur saw how he might give i
    "Let him up," he said.
     Startled, the guards obeyed. Even more startled, the thief rose.
    Sharur rummaged in a pack until he found a necklace of painted cla
    beads, as near worthless as made no difference. He laid it on
    ground and turned his back.
     "Here," he said. "Steal this. Lay it on Enzuabu's altar.
    have obeyed your god. He cannot smite you with boils, nor
    and your concubine and your children with carbuncles."
                                             t
    
     When he turned around again, the necklace was gone. S
    thief From out of the night came a soft call: "My blessings upon you,
    lord, whatever-" Whatever Enzuabu might say? The thiet was w
    to stop speaking when he did. But he would not stop thinking.
    the silence, Sharur nodded slowly, once.
    
    a hand, and

    




    Ad
    
    "It is Sharur, the son of Ereshguna! " the Gibli gate guard exclaimed
    
    He bowed to Sharur, who led the caravan as it returned to his home
    city. "Did you fare well in the Alashkurru Mountains, master met-
    
    chant's son?"
    
     One of Sharur's bushy eyebrows rose. His mouth twisted into a wry
    smile "I -am bqck frnm rb,- AlnqbViirni Mounrains. I am bark in Gibil
    
    Is that not faring well, all by itself?"
    
     The gate guard laughed. "Right you are, master merchant's son.
    Not enough copper, not enough silver, not enough gold to make me
    want to visit those funny foreign places, not when I live in the finest
    city in Kudurru, which means the finest city in the world." He stood
    aside. "Not that you want to hear me chattering, either, no indeed."
    His voice rose to a shout: "Enter into Gibil, city of the great god
    
    Engibil, Sharur son of Ereshguna, you and all your comrades!"
    
     Sharur would sooner have entered Gibil quietly, with no one
    knowing he was there until he came to his family's house in the Street
    of Smiths. He had not got any of what he wished on this disastrous
    journey, and knew ahead of time he would not get to enjoy a quiet
    
    entrance, either.
    
     Where the Zuabut were known throughout the land between the
    rivers for their nimble fingers, the men of Gibil were known for their
    
    nimble minds. They buzzed round the caravan as flies buzzed round
    a butcher shop, calling out greetings to Sharur and to the donkey
    handlers and guards they knew, and, most of all, calling out questions:
    "Did you make a profit?" "How big a profit did you make?" "How
    much copper did you bring back?" "Any of that fine-grained red wood
    that smells (,ood?" "Carved iewels master merchant's son?" "Are the

    




    104
    
    b3,RRy -ruR-rLc=Oove
    
    Alashkurrut really ten feet tall?" "Did frozen water fall out of th
    on you?" It went on and on and on.
     As Shar-ur had asked of them, the caravan crew said as litt
    they could. Giblut were also known throughout the land bet
    the rivers for talking to excess, but neither Sharur nor the d(
    handlers nor the guards lived up to that part of their reputation.
    the men were to receive the last installment of their pay at %
    home helped persuade them to hold their tongues.
     Some of the Giblut assumed that quiet meant the caravan h:
    done so well as they would have expected. They were rigl
    Sharur gave no sign of it. Some assumed the quiet meant the ci
    had done far better than expected. They were wrong, but Shari
    no sign of that, either. Arguments broke out between pessimi.
    optimists, distracting both groups from the caravan.
     Not everyone in Gibil used shouted questions to try to lea
    much wealth the caravan had brought to the city. One of the I
    Gibli courtesans simply pulled off her semitransparent shift ar
    magnificently naked in the street, saying without words, If
    afford me, here I am. With his men, Sharur stared longin
    walked on.
     Word of their return ran through the city ahead of them
    time they reached the Street of Smiths, the workers in brc
    come forth from their smithies, sweat streaking through smo
    on their torsos. Their questions were the same as those of t
    Giblut, but more urgent, as the answers were more immedi
    portant to them.
     By then, Shatur had been answering questions by not a
    them for so long, he had no trouble making the smiths be]
    told them much more, and been much more encouraging
    actually had. But then Ningal came out of Dimgalabzu's
    ment and called to him, "Did you bring back my bi
    Sharur?"
     "I ... will have to reckon up the accounts to make st
    enough," he answered. He fought for a smile, and managed
    one. "I hope so."
     The smile must have been better than he thought, for
    turned it. "I hope so, too," she said, and went back indoc

    




    e sky
    
    le as
    
    een
    nkey
    hat
    rur s
    
    not
    but
    
    avan
    
    gave
    and
    
    I st
    tood
    
    can
    and
    
    the
    had
    
    ains
    ther
    
    Un-
    
    rice,
    
     ave
    ieve
    
    I re-
    
    BETIVECM T C RIVCRS
    
     "You will be a lucky man, master merchant's son", Harharu said,
    "if that is your intended bride."
     "Yes," Sharur said, hoping his voice didn't sound too hollow. He
    was, in a way, glad the donkeymaster, not Mushezib, had come up to
    him. The guard captain would have phrased essentially the same
    comment in so pungent a way, Sharur might have felt he had to hit
    him. Had the caravan succeeded, he would have taken anv and all
    
    105
    
     chaffing in good part. Without Ningal's bride-price here, he was ready
     to lash out at anyone and anything. Only realizing as much let him
     keep his temper from being even worse than it actually was.
     At last, the donkeys plodded up to his own home. Standing in
     kont of it in the narrow, muddy street were his father and his brother
     Tupsharru. Ereshguna folded him into an embrace, saying, "Welcome
     home, my eldest son. It is good to see your face once more."
     "Thank you, Father." How would Ereshguna think it to see his
    face when he found out Sharur had returned to Gibil without a profit?
    Sharur knew he would learn that soon-too soon. For his family's
    sake as well as his own, he wanted to keep the rest of Gibil from
    learning that too soon. He said, "Father, I should particularly like to
    commend the donkey handlers and caravan guards, who served better
    than we dared hope. Along with their last payments, which are due
    now, I suggest you give them bonuses in silver, to reward them for
    their loyalty."
     "What?" Tupsharru said. "We've never done anything like-
    Ow!" Without being too obtrusive about it, Sharur had contrived to
    step on his brother's toes.
     Ereshguna, fortunately, was quicker on the uptake than his younger

    




    son. If Sharur proposed an unprecedented bonus, he assumed Sharur
    had some good reason for proposing it. "Just as you say, so shall it
    be," he said. "I had the final payments prepared and waiting inside,
    but I can add to them. I shall add to them." He went back in to do
    just that.
     Sharur addressed the caravan crew: "For your diligence, for your
    perseverance, for your courage, and for your discretion, you shall be
    rewarded over and above your final payments."
     A few muffled cheers arose. In a low voice, Mushezib told one of
    the guards, "That means keeping your mouth shut, you understand?"

    




    106
    
    A
    
    bz,RRy TuRTLcOove
    
     Tupsharru noticed the most important word, too. "Why are we
    paying them above the usual to be discreet?" he asked, also quietly.
     "Because we have reason above the usual to want them to be
    discreet," Sharur replied, which was true and uninformative at the
    same time.
     Ereshguna and a couple of the house slaves came out then. The
    slaves led the donkeys off the street and into the courtyard at the
    heart of the house. Ereshguna carried on a tray leather sacks full of
    scrap silver: smaller ones for the ordinary guards and donkey handlers,
    larger ones for Mushezib and Harharu, who had led th
    tray also gleamed silver rings. "Every man take one ove
    your final payment," he said, "save the guard captain
    master, who are to take two." He still asked no questions of his sol
    Later would be time enough for that.
     And then, as the men of the caravan crew were taking their pa
    and their bonuses and offering up words of praise for the house,'
    Ereshguna and for its generosity, the ghost of Sharur's grandfath
    shouted in his ear: "Boy, when you led that caravan to the mounta
                                          ? 0
    did you stand out in the sun too long without your hat.
    brought back all the stuff you set out with. No, you've
    some of the stuff you set out with"-his grandfather's
    "but nothing you set out to get."
     The ghost had not bothered to speak to him alone. By the w
    Tupsharru's head came up in startlement, he could tell his bro
    had also heard the angry words. Sighing, Sharur murmured,
    tell this tale presently, when I can tell it in more privacy."
     Some of the donkey handlers and guards were murmuring' too'
    ghosts that had not left Gibil greeted those who remembered the
    on their return. Agum was shaking his head and talking vehemen
    under his breath. Sharur wondered if he was trying to explain w
    the ghost of his uncle had not returned with him.
     He got only a moment to wonder, for his grandfather's hrost
                                             t
                                      k,
                                      r t
                                        e
    
                                        n
                                        h
                                        in
                                         g
                                         e
                                         t
                                         h
                                          0
    
                                          h
                                           0
                                           e
                                            n
    
                                            ir
                                            u
                                        Me
                                        t e
                                        I of
                                        rs,
                                        t
                                        r and abov
                                        and donkey-
    
                                             'a
    

    




                                      Ir s grandfa
                                      the mount
                                      Ljr hat?
                                      . Yo
                                      e brought
                                      e
                                      ghost sniffl
                                            d
    
                                             h
                                            W
    
                                            le
                                            tj
    
                                         )r co~
    shouted again: "Kimash the lugal will be angry at you f( Min~
    back with nothing you set out to get. He's not so much of a nwch,
    Kimash, but for what he is, he'll be angry at you. And Engibi
    Engibil will be angry at you, too, for coming back with nothing you
    set out to get."

    




    13C-TWIECM TbC RIVIERS
    
    Sharur sighed again. "Yes, I know that," he muttered. It hadn'
    
    crossed Tupsharru's mind; he stared toward Sharur. Ereshguna also
    looked in Sharur's direction. Whatever he thought, he kept to him-
    self
    
     Only after the men of the caravan crew departed, many of them
    praising the generosity of the house of Ereshguna, did the head of
    the house turn to his elder son and say, "Come into the house. Come
    into the shade. ome: we will drink beer together. And vou will tell
    
    the tale of your journey to the Alashkurru Mountains."
     "Father, you will not rejoice to hear it," Sharur said.
    
     "I rejoice that you are here. I rejoice that, being here, you may tell
    it," Ereshguna said. "Set against that, nothing else has the weight
    even of a single barleycorn. Whatever it may be, we have the chance
    to set it right."
    
     "It will take a good deal of setting right," the ghost of Sharur's
    grandfather said. "For what he brought back, he might as well have
    stayed home. In my day, caravans that went out to trade went out
    
    to trade, if you know what I mean."
    
    ay
    Let
    ,ill
    as
    
    Im
    
    Ltly
    ihy
    
    Lost
    Ling
    ich,
    il-
    you
    
     Ereshguna ignored the ghost's complaints. He led both his sons
    into the house and called for beer. A slave fetched a jar of it, and
    three cups. After spilling out libations, after offering thanks to the
    deities of barley and brewing, Ereshguna and his sons drank. Only
    after the first cups were empty did Ereshguna turn to Sharur and ask,
    
    "We have less of profit, then, than we had hoped?"
    
     "We have no profit," Sharur said. "Father, I shall not dip this news
    in honey, though to speak of it is to put a bitter herb in my mouth. The
    gods of the Alashkurrut refused to let them trade with us, save only in
    small things such as swapping bread and beer for trinkets. But of refined
    copper I have none. Of copper ore I have none. Of fine timber I have
    none. Of jewels I have none. Of clever carvings I have none. Of the
    herbs and spices and drugs of the Alashkurru Mountains I have none. I
    have onty what I took with me from Gibil, less what I traded for food
    
    and used for bribes that failed in the course of mv journev."
    
    Ereshguna stared at his son. "You had better tell me this whole
    
    tale " he said.
    
    1  .1
    
    And Sharur did, starting with Enzuabu's menacing stare and going
    on through the meeting with the Imhursagut, the encounter with the

    





    




    108
    
    OxizRy -ruRTLc0ovc=
    
    demon Illuyankas, the Alashkurri gods' preventing Huzziyas the
    wanax from trading with him, his failure at Zalpuwas, his inability to
    get even Abzuwas the smith to deal with him, Eniyarmuk's rejection
    of his crossing-offering, and the Zuabi thief's attempt to rob the car,
    avan at the command of his city god.
     Ereshguna said not a word while Sharur detailed his misfortune.
    Once his son had finished, the trader let out a long sigh. He set 4
    hand on Sharur's thigh. "You did, I think, everything you could havi
    done."
     "I did not do enough," Shatur said. "It eats at me like a canker.'O
     "You did more than I would ever have thought to do," Tupsharru
    said.
     "Against the gods, a man fights openly in vain," Ereshguna said.
    He took out his amulet to Engibil and covered its eyes. As Sh 'I
    and Tupsharru did the same, their father went on, "Only in se:r,
    and by stealth can a man hope to gain even a part of his way in
    gods' despite. Now, it seems, the gods beyond Gibil have awaken
    to the knowledge of how much we have gained over the years, h
    much we have gained over the generations. They wish
    back into full subjection once more."
     "The caravan from Imhursag traded among the Alashkurr
    Sharur said gloomily. "It came away with copper. It came away with
    copper ore. It came away with the other good things of the tn~
    tains. If the Imhursagut can trade and we cannot, Imhursag and
    imhursag shall be exalted among the cities and gods of Kudurru,
    Gibil shall slide into slavery."
     "You speak of Gibil," Tupsharru said. "You do not speak of
    gibil.11
     And Sharur realized he had not spoken of Engibil. His city counted.
    for more in his heart than his city god. Everything of which the 9
    of other cities, the gods of other lands, had accused him was true..
    did not feel shamed. He did not feel sorry. To the extent he co
    he was glad to be his own man.
     Ereshguna said, "The word you bring back to Gibil, my son d
    not affect the house of Ereshguna alone. It affects the other
    chants and the smiths It affects the city as a whole And it
    Kimash the lugal."

    




    108
    
    D3,RRY TUR-rLeOove
    
    demon Illuyankas, the Alashkurri gods' preventing Huzziyas th,
    wanax from trading with him, his failure at Zalpuwas, his inability
    get even Abzuwas the smith to deal with him, Eniyarmuk's rejecti
    of his crossing-offering, and the Zuabi thief's attempt to rob the c
    avan at the command of his city god.
     Ereshguna said not a word while Sharur detailed his misfortune
    Once his son had finished, the trader let out a long sigh. He set
    hand on Sharur's thigh. "You did, I think, everything you could h
    done."
     "I did not do enough," Sharur said. "It eats at me like a cank
     "You did more than I would ever have thought to do," Tupsharr
    said.
     "Against the gods, a man fights openly in vain," Ereshguna
    He took out his amulet to Engibil and covered its eyes. As
    and Tupsharru did the same, their father went on, "Only in e c
    and by stealth can a man hope to gain even a part of his way in
    gods' despite. Now, it seems, the gods beyond Gibil have awakene
    to the knowledge of how much we have gained over the years, ho
    much we have gained over the generations. They wish to force
    back into full subjection once more."
     "The caravan from Imhursag traded among the Alashkurrut,
    Sharur said gloomily. "It came away with copper. It came
    copper ore. It came away with the other good things of
    tains. If the Imhursagut can trade and we cannot, Imhurs
    imhursag shall be exalted among the cities and gods of Kudurru, a
    Gibil shall slide into slavery."
     "You speak of Gibil," Tupsharru said. "You do not speak of
    gibil.11
     And Sharur realized he had not spoken of Engibil. His city count
    for more in his heart than his city god. Everything of which the g
    of other cities, the gods of other lands, had accused him was true.
    did not feel shamed. He did not feel sorry. To the extent he cou
    he was glad to be his own man.
     Ereshguna said, "The word you bring back to Gibil, MY son,
    not affect the house of Ereshguna alone. It affects the other mer,
    chants and the smiths It affects the city as a whole. And it
    Kimash the lugal."

    




    BEFTWEEM ThE IVE S
    
    I know, Father." Sharur hung his head. I did not bring back rich
    
    V.
    
 offerings for Kimash to lay on the attar of Engibil. I was prevented."
     "Tomorrow," Ereshguna said, "tomorrow we shall go to the palace
     of Kimash the lugal and make known to him what passed on your
     journey." Ever so reluctantl Sharur nodded What choice had he?
    
    At supper that evening, Betsilim and Nanadirat listened to Sharur
    tell his story all over again. His mother and sister exclaimed indig-
    nantly over the injustice he had suffered at the hands of the Alash-
    kurri gods, and even more at the injustice he had suffered from gods
    
    dwellin2 closer to home
    
    "Eniyarmuk had no business rejecting your sacrifice for the
    
    crossing none whatsoever " Betsilim declared.
    
     I didn't think so, either," Sharur answered He turned to the
    kitchen slave. "Bring me more roast mutton, and garlic cloves to rub
    on it." She bowed and hurried away. The family had laid on a feast
    to celebrate his return, although, as far as he could see, only the fact
    
    that he had returned at all was worth celebratin2.
    
    th
    
    n-
    
    n-
    ad
    
    ted
    As
    He
    Ad,
    
     His mother was not finished. "Had I been standing on the bank
    of the Yarmuk, I should have given the river goddess a piece of my
    
    mind," she said.
    
    Sharur believed her. "No wonder the foreign gods fear us Giblut,"
    
    he said, which made his father laugh.
    
     Betsilim gave Ereshguna a sharp look, then resumed: "And En-
    zuabu! Enzuabu has no quarrel with Engibil. The Zuabut have no
    quarrel with the folk of Gibil. The Zuabut are thieves, surely but
    
    how wicked for the god to set a thief on my son's caravan."
    
     "Would it have been all right for the god to set a thief on the car-
    avan of someone else's son?" Ereshguna asked. His wife ignored him.
     Nanadirat said, "Worst of all, though, is that the Imhursagut and
    Enimhursag got the chance to gloat because the Alashkurri gods were
    so foolish." She clapped her hands together. "Slave, more date wine
    
    for me."
     I obey," the Imhursaggi war captive said softly. She held the
    strainer above the cup of Sharur's sister and poured the wine
    through it.

    




    110
    
    I)ARRy -ru-R-rLe0ove
    
     Sharur also held out his cup to be refilled. The kitchen slave rinsed
    the strainer, then gave him what he wanted. He nodded to her. She~
    did her best to pretend she did not see him.
     After the feast was over, Sharur's parents and brother and sister,
    went up onto the roof to steep. "I will join you in a while," Sharur
    said. He walked back toward the kitchen. By the light of a couple of
    dim, flickering torches, the slave from Imhursag was scrubbing bowls
    and plates and cups clean with a rag and a jar of water. Sharur set
    his hands on her shoulders. "Let us go back to the blanket on which
    you sleep."
     With a small sigh, she set down the rag and dried her hands
    her tunic. "I obey," she said, as she had when Nanadirat asked h
    for more wine. But, as she and Sharur walked down the narrow h
    to her hot, tiny, cramped cubicle, she said, "You have not required
    this of me for a long time."
     "And now I do require it," Sharur said. The kitchen slave
    again and walked on.
     Inside the cubicle, it was black as pitch, blacker than midni
    Linen rustled as the slave pulled her tunic off over her head. Shal
    shed his kilt. He reached out. His hand closed on the firm roun
    softness of the woman's breast. He squeezed.
     "Do you know why I do this?" he asked as they lay down toget F
    In the darkness, he found her hand and guided it to his er t"On.
                                         ect av
     "Because you own me," the slave answered. "Because you h
    been long away and you have no wife and you want a woman."
     He shook his head. "You know I came home without profit,"~-he
    said, and felt her nod. "In the mountains, far away, I met a caravan
    of Imhursagut. They mocked me. They said I was going home with
    my tail between my legs. I told them that, when I got home I id
                                         , wou'
    thrust my tail between the legs of my Imhursaggi slave woman,. And
                       the darkness. "You do in
    
    "Oh," she said and nodded again in
    
     "Yes," he answered, drawing back and thrusting, drawing back and
    thrusting, forcing his way deeper each time even though she was dq,
     "A vow should be fulfilled," she said seriously. "It is a duty to ypur
    
    god." She still thought like an Imhursaggi

    




    ed
    
    rur
    nd
    
    er.
    
    ave
    
     he
    avan
    with
    ould
    And
    
    is in
    
     and
    as dry.
    o your
    
    13ETWCCN TbC RIVERS
    
    ill
    
     And then something strange happened. The other handful of times
    he had taken her, she'd simply lain there and let him do as he liked
    until he spent himself and left. Now, suddenly, unexpectedly, her
    legs rose from the blanket and clenched his flanks. Her arms wrapped
    around his back. Her mouth sought his. The way into her, which had
    been difficult, grew gloriously smooth, gloriously moist.
     She made several small noises deep in her throat, and then, at the
    moment when pleasure almost blinded him, a mewling cry like a wild
    cat's. He slid out of her and sat back on his knees. "You never did
    anything like that before," he said, his voice almost accusing.
     "Other times you have had me, it was only for your own pleasure,"
    she said. "This time, you made good your word to your god-and to
    mine." Softly, under her breath, she murmured, "Oh, Enimhursag,
    how I tong for thee."
     Sharur was a young man. One round took the edge off his lust, but
    did not fully sate it. When he heard the slave woman shift and start
    to rise, he set his hand on her chest, in the valley between her breasts.
    "No. Not yet. I wilt have you again."
     She lay back; a slave's duty was to obey. He mounted her once
    more. Save that she breathed, she might have been dead beneath
    him. So it had been every time until this evening. So it was again.
    Eventually, his seed spurted from him.
     As he groped for his kilt, he said, I was no different the second
    time from the first. Yet you took pleasure-I know you took plea-
    sure-the first, and none at all the second. How is this? Why is this?"
     I told you," she answered. I took pleasure in helping fulfill your
    vow: I am one who respects the gods, and I rejoice when you Giblut
    do likewise. The second time, it was only you. The gods were far
    awav."
     he putted on the kilt, rose, and left the dark cubicle without an-
    other word. When he went up onto the roof, he found his parents
    were already sleeping. He lay down beside Tupsharru. "The Imhur-
     saggi slave woman?" his brother asked.
      "Twice," Sharur said.
      "Twice~" Tupsharru. coughed. "My dear brother, you have been
     without a woman a long time. Once, of course; once is always sweet.
     But twice? Did having her fall asleep while you were at work make

    




    112
    
    bARRY TURTLeDove
    
    you want to go in again so you could see if she would stay
    the way through the second time?"
     "Surprises everywhere, my dear brother," Sharur answered through
    a yawn. "Yes, surprises everywhere."
    
    When morning came, Sharur wanted to go to the house and sm
    of DimgaIabzu to discuss revising the arrangements for paying bril~:
    price for Ningal. Ereshguna would not hear of it. "Everything in its
    own place, Sharur," he said. "First we call on Kimash the lugal. He
    needs to know of the misfortune that befell you in the mountains of
    Alashkurru so he can decide what to do next."
     "Dimgalabzu also needs to know, because-" Sharur began.
     Ereshguna folded his arms across his chest. "I am your father. I say
    
                                             ""I
                                             A
     "You are my father." Sharur bowed his head. "We will go to
    mash. I will obey you."                  I
     And so, instead of walking down the Street of Smiths to Dinigal,
    abzu's, Sharur and Ereshguna walked up the Street of Smiths to the
    lugal's palace. As they passed, smiths and other metal merchants
    popped out of the buildings in which they worked to ask how Shatur's
    journey had gone. None of them seemed unduly concerned; the
    nuses Ereshguna had paid to the caravan crew must so far hav
    suaded the guards and donkey handlers not to say too much.
     Nor did Sharur and Ereshguna say too much now to their 4
    leagues. "We go to speak of the caravan with Kimash the tni&i
    lugal," Ereshguna said several times. "Kimash deserves to hear first
    the news of what Sharur traded. The mighty lugal deserves to hear
    first the news of what Sharur brought back."
    
    we will go to Kimash. You shall obey me."
    
     That satisfied the smiths and the other metal merchants. It did not f-
    satisfy Sharur. What did I trade? Nothing, he thought bitterly. Whal
    did I bring back? What I set out with. And what would the smiths ind
    the other metal merchants say if they heard that? What would the,
    smiths and the other metal merchants do if they heard that? Sharur
    was glad he did not have to find out, not yet.
     A procession of slaves and donkeys carrying costly baked bricrsolt

    




    K:~_
    
    13CTWEC-M TI)C RIVERS
    
    113
    
       16, -1
    
      their backs made Sharur and Ereshguna stand and wait outside Ki-
               C(S
    k mash's palace. ee, he is building it larger again," Ereshguna said.
    
    ay
    
    i-
    
    al-
    the
    nts
     )s
    
    bo,
    per,
    
    col-
   ighty
    first
    hear
    
    icks on
    
    Soon, I think, it will be larger than Engibil s temple.
     "I think you are right, Father," Sharur answered. Neither man said
    what he thought of that. Just for a moment, Sharur covered the eyes
    of the amulet he wore on his belt. He did not want Engibil looking
    at him then. He did not want Engibil looking into his heart then.
    He did not want Engibil seeing how he hoped the lugal's palace would
    outdo the god's temple.
     When the last braying donkey and the last sweating slave had
    passed, Sharur and Ereshguna advanced to the doorway of the palace.
    Guards with spears and shields stood stolidly, enduring the building
    heat. Ereshguna bowed before them. He said, "When the mighty
    lugal Kimash should deign to cast his eye upon us, we would go into
    his presence. When the mighty lugal Kimash should deign to hear
    us, we would have speech with him."
     "You are Ereshguna and Sharur," one of the guards said. "I will
    tell Inadapa the steward you are come. Inadapa will tell Kimash the
    mighty lugal you are come."
     He huff ied away. When he returned, Inadapa accompanied him:
    a bald, round1faced, round-bellied man with a beard going gray. "Ki,
    rnash the mighty lugal bids you welcome," the steward said. "Wel~
    come you are, he says, and welcome, and thrice welcome. You will
    come with me."
     "We shall come with you," Ereshguna and Sharur said together.
    Without another word, Inadapa turned on his heel and went back
    into the palace. They followed.
     Sharur wondered how Inadapa found his way through the rabbits'
    warren of corridors that made up the palace. The building had not
    grown up according to any unifying plan, but haphazardly, by fits and
    starts, as three generations of lugals decided again and again that
    they needed more room-and more rooms-to house all that was
    theirs, or to store away the old so that they might enjoy the new.
     Here was a room full of stools and tables. Should Kimash decide
    to give a great feast, they might come forth once more. Meanwhile,
    they simply sat in twilight. In the next room, pretty young women

    




    114
    
    b&RRY TUR-rLcOove
    
    brewed beer, chanting hymns to lkribabu as they worked. The ch
    ber after that was piled high with bales of wool; the powerfu
    smell of sheep filled that stretch of the hall.
     jars and pots held wine, beer, grain, dates ... who could say
    all? The stores in the palace might feed Gibil for a year, or so it
    seemed to Sharur.
     Presently, Inadapa led his father and him past a chamber where
    more pretty young women were spinning wool into thread. As Sharur
    had in the brewing chamber, he noticed them because they were
    young and pretty. If Kimash summoned one of them, she would come,
    and, Sharur was sure, she would not lie beneath the lugal as if half a
    corpse. Kimash had opportunities for pleasure beyond those of an
    ordinary man.
     Ereshguna noticed something else. To Inadapa, he said, "Stewa
    to Kimash the mighty lugal, would these women not get more wo
    done if the wool they spun were in the chamber next to theirs ra
    than halfway across the palace?"
     Inadapa stopped in his tracks. "Master merchant," he said slo
    "in days gone by, wool was stored in the room next to this onelor
    some reason or other, it was moved. No one ever thought either t'
    move it back or to move the women closer to the chamber where it
    is now held. Perhaps someone should give thought to such things."
    Shaking his head, he strode down the hallway once more.
     "How many other such cases are there in the palace, if only some,
    one would look?" Ereshguna murmured under his breath to Sh
    as they followed the steward.
     "I wonder if any one man knows everything the palace holds,"
    Sharur whispered back.
     Ereshguna shook his
    
                   head. "Inadapa's grandfather-maybe eve
    his father-might have, but the palace was smaller in those days."
     Sharur started to answer, but just then the hallway opened o
    into Kimash's audience chamber. The lugal sat on a chair with a
    back; its legs and arms were sheathed in gold leaf, and it rested Q11 a
    platform of earth that raised Kimash above those who came b fore
    him. Inadapa went to his knees and then to his belly before Ki
    Sharur and Ereshguna imitated the steward's action.

    




    EL11
    
    13ETWECM T C RIVCRS
    
    11
    
     "Mighty lugal, I bring before you the master merchant Ereshguna
    
               )7
    and his son Sharur, the steward said, his face in the dust of the
    
    rarnmed,earth floor.
    
     "In my day," Sharur's grandfather's ghost said with a scornU
    sniff, "in my day, I tell you, we only groveled in front of Engibil
    not in front of some ut)start man who thought he was as fancy as
    
    god."
    
    "Not now Grandfather " Sharur whispered under his breath
    
    "Father, Kimash may be able to hear you," Ereshguna added, also
    
    muttering into the dust. "He knew you well in life, recall."
    
     The ghost gave another loud sniff, but said no more. Kimash gave
    no sign of having heard. He probably heard a lot of ghosts; as lugal
    and before that as lugal's heir, he had come to know a great many
    Giblut. All he said was, "Rise, master merchant Ereshguna. Rise,
    Sharur son of Ereshguna.'
    
    "We greet you, mighty lugal," Sharur and Ereshguna said together
    
    as they got to their feet.
    
     "And I greet you in turn," Kimash said. "You are welcome here.
    You will drink beer with me." He clapped his hands together. "Ina-
    
    dapa.1 They will drink beer with me."
    
     "Yes, mighty lugal." Inadapa clapped his hands together. A lesser
    servant came running. Inadapa pointed to Sharur and Ereshguna.
    
    "They will drink beer with the mighty lugal."
    
    "Yes, steward." The lesser servant hurried away. Soon a slave came
    
    in with a not of beer and threeCUDS.
    
    )ut
    -., a
    n a
    ore
    ish.
    
     After libations and thanks to the gods, Kimash, Sharur, and Er-
    esh2una drank. Setting down his cup after a deep draught, Kimash
    said, "I am glad you have come home safe from the Alashkurru
    Mountains, son of Ereshguna; I am glad no harm befell you."
     "I thank you-, mighty lugal," Sharur said, less comfortably than he
    would have liked. He could see the track down which the caravan
    of this conversation was heading. A lion lurked at the end of the
    track. It would leap out and devour him unless he turned the con-
    
     Kimash said, "I have not heard how your caravan fared in the
    distant mountains. With most caravans I know this before thev come

    




    116
    
    bARRY TURTteoovc
    
    into Gibil. But the house of Ereshguna holds its secrets close."
    smiled at Sharur's father, more approvingly than otherwise.
     Yes. There was the lion. Sharur could hear it roar. He could see it
    lash its tail. Very well. He would cast himself into its jaws. He said,
    "Mighty lugal, my father and I have come before you on account of
    what passed with the caravan in the mountains of Alashkurru. "
     "Good." Kimash leaned forward in his high seat. "What offerings
    have you that I can lay on the altar of Engibil? What strange things,
    what rare things, what beautiful things have you? The god has been
    restive of late; the god has been hungry. I must show Engibil I can
    sate him; I must show the god I can satisfy him. I do nFeeling the lion's teeth close on him, Sharur exchanged a, a
                                          It 1~
    of consternation with Ereshguna. His father nodded sligl Y. He
    knew what that meant: better to be eaten all at once than to have
    chunks bitten off him. His own thought had been the same. But h,
    how bitter, oh, how empty was the truth: "Mighty lugal, I have o
                           , have no beautiful things or
    you to lay on the altar of Engibil. I have brought back no offerigs
    for the god; I have brought back no profit for my father. The Al*'
    kurrut would not treat with me, for their gods have come to hate and
    to fear the men of Gibil."
     Kimash scowled. "I feared it might be so." His voice was heavy,
    "When a caravan returns successful to the city, it blares forth ~
    news with trumpets. When a caravan returns with profit, it blar
    forth the word with drums. Failure is wreathed in silence. But so,
    sometimes, is success extraordinarily large. So, sometimes, is pro
    extraordinarily great. I hoped that might be so. Tell me now 71 y
    
     As Sharur had for his father, he spun out the tale for the lugal,
    When he finished, he asked, "What are we to do? The gods art
    stronger than we men. If they will that we fail, fail
    shall."
     "If all the gods will this together, and it stays in all their wilISIC
    enough, fail we surely shall," Kimash replied. "But the gods are c
    tentious, no less than men. How could it be otherwise, when we a
    created in their image? Therein lies our hope: to wait out this 9
    
    strange things, I have no rare things I
    
    did not come to pass."

    




    BeTWEEM ThE RLVC S
    
    until their anger against us recedes within its banks and the sun shines
    
    on their auarrcls once more."
    
     Ereshguna said, "Mighty lugal, your words are as pure as a nugget
    of gold. Great Kimash, your words shine like polished silver. From
    the anger of all the gods we may yet win free, as a hare may chew
    through the noose of a snare if the hunter is lazy and does not return
    soon enough to his trap. But Engibil presses on us always. How shall
    
    we escape the wrath of the city god?"
    
     "I had hoped to ease his spirits with gifts from the Alashkurrut; I
    had hoped to soften his heart with presents from the men of the
    mountains," the lugal answered. "Master merchant, you press on the
    ~~ouncl where it is sore. Now I shall have to find some other way to
    appease Engibil. If I do not. . ." He let out a long, harsh sigh. "If I
    do not, things shall be as they were in the days of my great-
    
    Wandfather, and of his great-grandfather before him."
    
     "May it not come to pass," Sharur exclaimed. "May you rule us,
    mighty tugat. May Engibil remain content with worship and pres,
    
    ents."
    
    "That is also my desire, I assure you." Kimash's voice was dry.
     "It is the desire of all within Gibil, mighty lugal," Ereshguna said,
    covering the eyes of his amulet to hinder Engibil's senses. "We see
    
    the god-ruled cities around us, where men are toys or at best children,
    from whom obedience is required and who are punished without
    mercy when they obey not. You are a man. You know men. We would
    
    sooner have vour iudoment and vour Puidance."
    
    And Kimash the lugal inclined his head to Ereshguna. "For your
    generous words I thank you, master merchant. Generous they are,
    but not, I believe, altogether true. Merchants and artisans: yes, you
    would sooner a lugal or an ensi ruled you than a god. But the peas-
    ants? Who can say? A god gives certainty. A god gives not freedom
    of thou,,ht but freedom from thought, in the same way as does the
    bur pot. Have you never known men who found this desirable?"
    "My heart is heavy within me, for I cannot deny what you say,"
    
    Efeshguna replied. "I wish I could show you speak falsely. Then my
    
    spirit would rejoice."
    
    "But what are we to do?" Sharur broke in. "How are we to keen
    
    il content to rest lazily in his temple?"

    




    118
    
    13ARRY TURTLcOove
    
     Kimash cocked his head to one side. Then, to Sharur's surprise,
    he smiled. "The ghost of Igigi my grandfather says he managed it
    when Engibil was less used to rest and more used to rule than he is
    now. My grandfather's ghost says I had better manage it as well."
     "Your grandfather was a wise man, mighty lugal. No doubt him
    ghost remains wise," Ereshguna said. "Does the ghost tell you hoA
    you are to accomplish what you desire?"
     "Oh, no." Kimash smiled again, this time wryly. "He simply t
    me what I must do, not how I must do it. Such is the usual way wi
    ghosts in my family. Is it otherwise with yours?"
     "No, mighty lugal," Sharur and Ereshguna said together. Both of
    them were resigned to the way of ghosts.
     "I heard that," Sharur's grandfather's ghost said sharply. "I he
    that! I don't care for your tone of voice, not even a little bit I don't."
     As best they could, they both ignored him. Sharur said, "Mighty
    lugal, what are we to do? Do you know how to appease Engibil even
    without the strange things, the rare things, the beautiful things I
    should have brought back from the mountains of Alashkurru? Do you
    know how we Giblut can trade if the gods outside our city remain
    united against us in hatred?"
     "I can appease Engibil a while longer, I think," Kimash said.1
    would have been easier, son of Ereshguna, had your caravan suc,
    ceeded. You know this as I know this. But I can go on. To answer.,,`
    your second question, we Giblut cannot trade if the gods outside out
    city remain united in hatred against us. Our hope must be that they
    do not remain united in hatred against us. Our prayer must be that
    they cannot remain united in hatred against us."
     "Thank you, mighty lugal, for
    
                         showing my son forbearance,
    eshguna said. "Bless you, mighty lugal, for showing him kindness."
     "I know the worth of the house of Ereshguna," Kimash repli
    "He is your son, master merchant. Had he been able to do mot
    would have done more. I wish he had done more, but again
    gods a man contests in vain. Now let us all think on how we: in
    yet profit ourselves and satisfy our city god."
     He nodded to Inadapa, signifying that the audience was over.
    steward led Sharur and Ereshguna out of the palace through the ma,~
    of halls by which they had come to the lugal's audience

    




    i3e-uweem -rbe RiveRs
    
    I
    
    11 C)
    
    When Sharur reached the entranceway, the sudden strong sunlight
    
    made him souint and blink.
    
     "Now," he said, "to the house and to the smithy of Dimgalabzu,
    the father of my intended. He too must know what passed in the
    Alashkurru Mountains, though I would sooner sup with snakes and
    
    scorpions than have to tell him."
    
    As they walked back along the Street of Smiths toward the house of
    Dimgalabzu, Ereshguna said, "Son, do not fret over what the smith
    will do. Do not worry over what Dimgalabzu will say. His family wants
    this match between you and Ningal to go forward. Our family wants
    this wedding to take place. Where the will on both sides is good, a
    
    wa~T will open."
     "But I cannot pay the bride-price to which we agreed," Sh
    
    said.
    
    "You are but a part of the house of Ereshguna " his father reminde
    
    6"
    
     I know that, Father, but I intended to pay the bride-price from
    the profit I would bring home to Gibil from the caravan to the moun-
    
    tains of Alashkurru."
    
    er
    ur
    ey
    at
    
    S.
 lied.
     he
     the
    
    may
    
    . The
    
    lffi-t-e
    
     "You are but a part of the house of Ereshguna," Ereshguna re-
    peated. "For the sake of this match, the rest of the house will gladly
    aid you."
     "Father.. . Sharur wished he did not have to go on, but saw no
    way around it. "Father, I do not know if Engibil will permit this. I
    
    do not know if the city god will let this be."
    
     Ereshguna stopped in the middle of the Street of Smiths, so sud,
    denly that a man walking behind him and Sharur almost bumped
    
    into him. After the fellow had gone his way, muttering under his
    breath, the master merchant asked, "Why should Engibil care how
    you gain the bride-price for Ningal? Why should it matter to the city
    
    god how you are wed to Dimgalabzu's daughter?"
    
    "Because, Father," Sharur answered miserably, I swore a great

    




    oath to Engibil before I set out for the mountains of Alashkurru, that
    I wouldDay Ningal's bride-price out of thenrofit I made ifrnm tb;,~
    
    canwan."

    




    120
    
    b,XRRV TURTtC-OOVC
    
     His father's breath hissed out in a long sigh. "What ever possessed
    you to do such a thing, son? Did a demon take hold of your tongue ~"
     "Yes," Sharur answered, "the demon of pride. I know that now. I
    did not know it then. All the caravans on which I had ever trave
    had gone well. I never dreamt the gods of other lands would tj
    their backs on us. I never dreamt the men of other lands would re
    to treat with us."
     "The demon of pride," Ereshguna repeated, his voice soft. "Th-
    men of the cities where gods still rule say this is the special dem
    of Gibil. The men of other lands where gods rule say the same."
     "I have heard this." Sharur touched first one ear) then the od~--
    "The Alashkurrut say we are so proud, we would sooner rule ourse
    and put our god in the back part of our minds. I denied this a
    time I was among them, but it holds some truth. When I swo
    oath to Engibil, I did it not to affirm his power over me, as
    hursaggi would have done, but to boast of my own power in the wo
    And now my oath brings me low." He hung his head.
     "In my time, we never would have thought such a thought."
    voice of his grandfather's ghost was shrill and accusing in his ea,i
    "In my day, we never would have done such a deed."
     "When I was a young man," Ereshguna said, "I might have
    thought like yours, Sharur, but I do not think I would have s
    an oath like yours. You and your brother are more your own ri
    than I was at your age. Anything outside yourselves has less p~,
    over you than was so for me."
     "And, when I go astray, I go further astray than you woul
    done," Sharur said.
     Ereshguna set a hand on his shoulder. "Perhaps it is not so
    you think. Perhaps we may yet set it right."
     "But how, Father?" Sharur cried.
     "Perhaps we can fulfill your oath to Engibil in another
    eshguna said. "As I said before, you are but a part of the hou,
    Ereshguna. Perhaps we shall lend you the bride-price for y
                                           r,e~
                                           a4
                                           31 n
                                           a
    
                                          so
    
                                         w
    
    tended. There will be other days
                         there will be other caravans,"
    will be other times to profit. You can restore what is lent to y,
    the house of Ereshguna. Thus you will have gained Ningal th
    the profit from a caravan."

    




    BETWEEM T13C RIVERS
    
     "But not through the profit from this caravan," Sharur said.
     "No, not through the profit from this caravan," his father agreed.
    "But you will have the copper to give to Dimgalabzu for your in-
    tended. You will have the silver to give to the smith for his daughter.
    You will have the gold to give to him for Ningal. This will be good
    for the house of Ereshguna. This will be good for the house of Dim-
    galabzu." Ereshguna smiled. "And, son, this will be good for you. I
    have seen-who living on the Street of Smiths has not seen?-how
    you look at her when she goes by, and she at you as well."
     Sharur bowed low before his father. "If you do this for me, I shall
    indeed repay you. You rescue me from my own pride; from my own
    foolishness you save me."
     "You are my son." Ereshguna smiled again. "And you are a young
    man. The gods have never yet shaped a young man who did not need
    to be saved from his own foolishness now and again. Have we a
    ~argain, then? I shall lend you the bride-price, and you shall repay it
    from profits yet to come."
     "Yes, " Sharur said joyfully.
     No.
     Had someone somehow cast a bronze bell twice as tall as a man,
    that one word might have tolled from it. The word echoed and re-
    echoed inside Sharur's head, till he staggered and almost fell under
    its impact. Beside him, he saw his father stagger, too. He wondered
    briefly if Puzur the earthquake demon had chosen that moment to
    loose destruction on Gibil. But the tremor was inside him; the tremor
    was inside his father. Other men did not cry out, nor did the buildings
    on the Street of Smiths sway and topple.
      No.
     Again, the woA 'rang through Sharur and Ereshguna. Sharur's
     grandfather's ghost heard it, too, though the ghost's terrified screech-
     ing seemed tiny and lost among those great reverberations.
      "It is the voice of the god," Ereshguna gasped.
     "Yes." Sharur shivered, as with an ague. Men schemed, men ma-
     rieuVered, men labored for generations to gain a tiny space of free-
     dom from the gods. Gods did not need to scheme or maneuver
     against men. Gods had strength. When they noticed what men
     were doing ... Oh, when they noticed ...
    
    121

    




    122
    
    bARRY TURTLcOove
    
     Engibil spoke once more, implanting his words in the minds of
    Sharur and Ereshguna: I hold in my hands the oath of Sharur son-'
    Ereshguna. I hold in my heart the oath of Sharur son of Ereshguna. ~
    oath shall not be avoided. The oath shall not be evaded. Sharur son,
    Ereshguna swore in my name to pay bride-price for Ningal daughter,~
    Dimgalabzu with profit from the journey he has just completed. There
    no profit. There can be no bride-price. I shall not be mocked anionj my~
    fellow gods. No god shall say of me, "See, it is Engibil, whose name M
    take in vain." Hear me and obey, men of Gibil.
     As abruptly as the god had seized Sharur and Ereshguna, so no
    he released them. They stared at each other, white-faced and shaki
    "In all my years," Ereshguna said slowly, "in all my years, I say,
    have never known Engibil to speak so."
     "I remember things like this," Sharur's grandfather's ghost
    shrilly, "and I remember my grandfather telling me they happe
    all the time in his day. I knew you clever people would get in troubi
    one fine day, I knew it, I knew it." The ghost sounded horrified an
    glad at the same time.
     Sharur said nothing. He found nothing he could say. He 100"
    to his father. Ereshguna said nothing, either, not for some time. Tlat
    alarmed Sharur more than anything. No: that alarmed Sharur more
    than anything save the resistless voice of the god pounding inside
    his head. Nothing could have been more alarming than that. But
    seeing his father at a loss for words frightened him, too, underscorim
    the magnitude of what had just happened. Though a man grown,
    Sharur had never lost the notion that Ereshguna could solve larger,
    more complicated troubles than he could himself That, after all, va
    what a father was for.
     When Ereshguna did not speak and then still did not speak Sham
    forced words out through numb lips: "What do we do now?'
     His father gathered himself "We had better do what we w
    to do anyhow-we had better speak with Dimgalabzu the sm
    sighed and shuddered, still no more recovered than was Sha
    their encounter with Engibil. "Now, though, we shall have to gi
    him a word we would sooner not speak, and also one he would soon
    not hear."
    
    M

    




    13ETWCCN TI)E! RIVERS
    
    123
    
     "Is there no help for it?" Sharur cried, setting a hand on his father's
    thigh in appeal.
     "I see none," Ereshguna said. "Come." Sharur saw none either,
    and so, all unwilling, he followed his father to the house of Dimgal-
    abzu,
    
    "Wait," Dimgalabzu said. Sweating as he stood close by the fire, he
    lifted a clay crucible from it with long wooden tongs, then, moving
    quickly, poured molten bronze into three molds, one after another.
    He had calculated his work well; the last of the metal filled the last
    mold. Dimgalabzu wiped his dripping forehead. "There. It is accom-
    plished. Now we shall drink beer."
     "Now we shall drink beer," Ereshguna agreed. Here inside the
    smithy, he sounded stronger and more sure of himself than he had
    out in the street.
     Sharur also felt his own spirit revive here. As at the smithy of
    Abzuwas son of Ahhiyawas in the Alashkurru Mountains, he no
    longer noted the brooding immanence of hostile gods. Metalworking
    had a power of its own; without such power, how could something
    hard as stone be made to run like water and then turn hard once
    more, this time in a shape the smith determined?
     Dimgalabzu clapped his hands. "Beer!" he called. "Beer for Eresh-
    guna the master merchant and Sharur his son. And let us have salt
    fish to eat with the beer."
     No slave brought the pot of beer, as Sharur had expected. No slave
    brought the bowl of salt fish, as he had looked for. Instead, Ningal
    fetched in beer; Ningal fetched in fish. Dimgalabzu did Sharur and
    Ereshguna honor, to let her serve them. She smiled at Sharur, saucily,
    over her shoulder as she went out once more. The smile was a knife
    in his heart.
      He smiled back at her. That was twisting the knife.
     After libations and invocations, he and his father and Dimgalabzu
    drank of the beer. They ate of the salt fish. Presently, Dimgalabzu
    said, "What news have you for me, master merchant, master mer-
    chant's son?"
    
    t
    9
    1,
    
    3.S
    
    ur
    
    ng
    ie
    
    [ve
    rier

    




    124
    
    'A
    
    b&RRy TuRTLeOove
    
     The smith smiled. His voice held no worry. He thought he knew
    what the word would be. He thought he knew the word would be
    good. Inside Sharur, the knife twisted again.
     Ereshguna said, "My old friend, we come to you with trouble
    hearts. My old comrade, we come to you with troubled spirits. Heat
    what has befallen us." He set forth the tale of Sharur's failed caravani
    to the mountains of Alashkurru, of the oath Sharur had given to
    Engibil, and of Engibil's awe-inspiring ("terrifying" was the word
    Sharur would have used, but maybe they amounted to the same thing
    in the end) refusal to let the oath be altered or circumvented *
     Dimgalabzu's lips skinned back from his teeth, farther and farth
    as he listened, until at last he looked as if he were snarling. "This is
    a hard word you give me, master merchant, a hard word in many
    ways. That the god should bar the arrangement you had in mind..
    that is hard. That the god should care enough to bar the arrangement
    you had in mind ... that is very hard." Like any smith of Gibil, he
    was used to quiet from Engibil, quiet in which he could conduct his
    own affairs.
     "It is very hard indeed," Ereshguna agreed. "This happened, as I
    say, while we were coming here from the palace of Kimash the lugal.
    
     "Yes," Dimgalabzu said. tven more than the smiths, the meo
    chants, or the scribes, the lugal depended on quiet from Engibil,
    Dimgalabzu shook his head. "That you cannot pay the bride-pEice
    for my daughter ... that is hardest of all. Without the bride,pice,
    there can be no wedding."
                                             s
                                            al~ny
    
                                            ent
                                            he
                                            his
    
                                            is
    
                                          g",
                                          -_P~Ice
                                          price,
    
     Sharur had known Dimgalabzu would say as much. Standin~ w efe
                                        id n 4
    Dimgalabzu stood, Sharur would have said as much. That d 0 -
    to diminish his anguish at hearing Dimgalabzu say as much. He cri
    "Could we not-?" , , I
     The smith held up a scarred, dirty hand. "Son of Ereshgu~a, d
    
    Kimash will find it hard news as well."
    
    not let this question pass your lips. Not even the peasants ~ t
    villages far from Gibil, not even the herders in the fields d
    so `1@
    they cannot see the city's walls, give up their daughters without bril
    price. And Ningal is no peasant's daughter. My daught
    
    herder's daughter. Without the bride-price, there can

    




    BETWECM TbE RIVERS
    
    125
    
     To make Sharur's mortification complete, Ningal had come back
    into the room with a bowl of spicy relish for the fish. "Father-" she
    
    began.
    
     "No." Dimgalabzu's voice was hard as stone. "Without the bride-
    price, there can be no wedding. My daughter shall not be the laugh-
    ingstock of the Street of Smiths; my daughter shall not be a joke for
    the city. I have spoken."
    "Yes, Father," Ningal whispered, and withdrew once more.
     Desperately, Sharur said, "May I bargain with you, father o my
    
    intended?"
    
    I "I will hear your words," Dimgalabzu said, "though I make no
    
    ges past that. Say on."
    
    "If you cannot wed your daughter to me without bride-price, will
    you keep from pledging her to another, to give me time to see if
    
    may not reverse Engibil's ban?"
    
    "Were you not Ereshguna's son, I would say no." Dimgalabzu
    plucked at his curly beard. "Were you not in my daughters heart to
    the point where that might trouble any future match, I would also
    say no." He licked his lips as he thought. "Let it be as you say. For
    the space of one year, let it be as you say. No more. Past that, I shall
    
    do as I reckon best "
    
    Sharur bowed almost as low as he would have before Kimash the
    lugal. "Engibil's blessings upon you, father of my intended." Only
    after the words were out of his mouth and past recall did he won-
    der at the propriety of asking Engibil to bless Dimgalabzu when it
    was thanks to the god's interference that he and Ningal could not
    join in marriage as they had long planned and as they had long
    
    hoped.
    
    Ereshguna also bowed to Dimgalabzu. "You have my thanks also,
    
    old triend. I hings clo not always go as we would have them go."
    "There you speak the truth," the smith said. "We are not gods.
    
    And, even if we were gods, we would not be free of strife."
    
    "How right you are." Ereshguna bowed again. So did Sharur. They
    took their leave of Dimgalabzu. As he turned to go, Sharur looked
    down the hallway from which Ningal had brought beer and fish and
    relish, in the hope of catching one last glimpse of her. He saw only

    




    126          I)ARRY TURTLeoove
    
    Day followed day. Sharur worked with his father and younger brother,
    trading to the smiths the copper and ore and tin they had on hand,
    and trading with others the goods they got from the smiths in
    exchange. They even made a profit on most of their dealings, b
    that did not reassure them. "What shall we do when our supplies
    metal are gone?" Tupsharru asked. "What shall we do when we ha
    no more ore to trade?"
     "We shall go hungry, by and by," Sharur said. His brother smiled,
    reckoning it a joke. Sharur did not smile in return. He smiled:less it
    often these days than he had before his caravan came home liolm
    
     Then other caravans started coming home to G ibil without havi
    been able to trade. Merchants from other cities did not bring their
    wares to the market square in Gibil, even merchants who had con
    each year for longer than Sharur had been alive. Nor did merc4nts
    from beyond Kudurru enter the city, as they had done more and more
    often in recent years.
     Coming back one day from the market square-a square whe
    increasingly, Giblut bought from and sold to and traded with other
    Giblut alone-Ereshguna said, ~'Commerce has long been the life,11
    blood of this citv. Now all the blood seems to drain out of Gibil, an,]
    
    Gibil without having been able to trade.
    
    none comes in How can we lead the land between the ri'
    
    "Zuabu prospers, I hear," Sharur said. "Even
    
    Imhursag prospers, J
    
    hear. How can the Imhursagut prosper while we falter? aving th
    god bellowing in their ears all the time makes them stupid."
     "Our god may be bellowing more and more in our ears," his fa
    answered. "If Kimash the lugal cannot keep Engibil happy, 4
    will find a way to make himself happy. Then we and the lmhul~
    
     "May it not come to pass," Sharur exclaimed. Engibil might rn
    a better master than Enimhursag; as far as Sharur was conce
    Engibil could not possibly make a worse master than Enimhurs
    But Sharur was used to being a free man, or a man as ee as ani
    the land between the rivers. He did not want a god to rule his I

    




    ere,
    ther
    life-
    atid
    Its if
    
    ~ng
    
    Lore
    
    ers, I
    their
    
    'alcher
    e god
    Esagut
    
    make
    ernea,
    jursag.
    any in
    is life.
    
    13CTWEC-14 TDC RIVCRS
    
    127
    
     Engibil did not care what he wanted. He had already seen that.
     "May it not come to pass, indeed," Ereshguna said. "You and I say
    this. We are men who know freedom. We are men who do not want
    Engibil twisting our lives with his hand. But another in Gibil says
    this louder than you or 1. Another in Gibil says this louder than you
    and I together."
     "Kimash the lugal," Sharur said.
     "Kimash the lugal," Ereshguna agreed. "We are men who do not
    want to be ruled. Kimash is a man who already rules. How would it
    be for him to have to give back to Engibil full mastery of this city?"
     "It would be hard," Sharur said.
     "It would be hard, yes," Ereshguna said. "And it might well be
    more than hard. It might well be dangerous. What will Engibil do,
    after three generations of lugals have kept him from full rule over
    Gibil? What will he do, after Kimash and Kimash's father and Ki-
    mash's grandfather have ruled in his place?"
     "I do not know the answer," Sharur said. "I am only a man, so I
    can not know the answer, not ahead of time. Even Kimash the lugal
    can not know the answer, not ahead of time. But I think, Father,
    that if I sat in Kimash the lugal's high seat, I would be a worried
    man."
     "I think you are right, son, and I think Kimash the lugal is a worried
    man today," Ereshguna replied. "What will he do? What can he do?"
    The master merchant plucked at his beard. "I do not know what he
    can do. I wonder if he knows himself what he can do."
    
    Inadapa stood in the doorway to Ereshguna's establishment and
    waited to be noticed. As a man, he was not very noticeable. As a
    power in the city of Gibil, he was noticeable indeed. "It is the steward
    to Kimash the mighty lugal I" Ereshguna said, bowing himself almost
    
     Sharur bowed, too. "The steward to Kimash the mighty lugal hon-
    ors us by his presence," he said. "In his name and through him we
    gffeet his mighty master." He bowed again.
     "Enter our dwelling, steward to the mighty lugal," Ereshguna said.
    "Drink beer with us. Eat onions with us." He clapped his hands. A

    




    03,RRY TURTLcOovc
    
    slave came running. Ereshguna pointed to Inadapa. "Fetch    0
                                            po"
    beer for the steward's refreshment. Fetchon: or th
    steward's enjoyment."
     "You are generous to me," Inadapa said,
    
                               a basket of oni. f
    
                                drinking sour beer. "Yo~
    are gracious to me," he added, eating a pungent onion. "By the honor
    you show to me, you also show honor to my master."
     "So we intended," Sharur said, "for where you are, there also Ki,
    mash the mighty lugal is."
     Now Inadapa bowed. "You are well spoken, son of Ereshguna.
    are polite, master merchant's son. It is no wonder, then, tha Is
    master, the mighty lugal Kimash, ordered me to bring you with
    back to the palace of the lugals, that he might have speech
    you.
     "Did he?" Sharur stole a quick glance at his father. "I obey e
    mighty lugal in this, as I obey him in all things. When you hle
    drunk, when you have eaten, you will take me to him." "Is
     "When I have drunk, when I have eaten, I will take you to him,"
    Inadapa agreed.
     "Does the mighty lugal also desire speech with me?" Ereshi
    asked.
                                             lijt
    
     Inadapa shook his bald head. "He spoke only of your son, master
    merchant."
     "He is the lugal," Ereshguna said. "It shal
    all things here in Gibil."
     Inadapa said nothing to that. Neither did Sharur.
    
    Al
    
                'I
    I be as he desires, as ~
    
    in Gibil been as Kimash desired, the lugal would have had no ned
    to summon him to the palace.
     After finishing his beer and onions, Inadapa declined more
    ther. "Let us be off," he said to Sharur. "I am glad to eat and
    with you, but I do not wish to make the mighty lugal anxious for
                                           I
    
    return."
     "By no means." Sharur gulped down the last of his own ber nu~
    rose from the stool on which he sat. "Lead me to the palace. I T,
    your slave, and the mighty lugal's slave as well." Better either of
    than being Engibil's slave, he thought. He would never, ever s
    aloud.

    




    r
    
    U
    
                                        e
                                        th
    
    e
    e
    
    Tn'
    
    una
    
    ster
    
    as in
    
    er and
 e. I am
     those
     that
    
              'b C
    134ETWCEN T = RIVERS
    
    129
    
       Inadapa rose, too. "We go, then." He bowed to Ereshguna. "Master
       merchant, your house is never to be faulted for hospitality."
       With the steward, Sharur walked up the Street of Smiths toward
       the lugal's palace. As he walked, he sometimes got glimpses of En-
       gibil's temple. The temple was larger than the palace. Most of it was
       older, dating from the days when Engibil had ruled his city: before
       there were lugals, some of it from before there were even ensis. But
       Kimash, and his father and grandfather before him, had not alto-
     1gether neglected the god's house, either, though they gave more pres-
      ents than they did building. Their hope had always been that greater
      luxury would compensate the god for losing power. For three gen-
      erations, that hope had been realized. Now ...
        Now Sharur groveled in the dust before Kimash on his high seat
        sheathed in beaten gold. When he rose, the lugal asked, "Do I hear
    i   rightly that Engibil holds your oath tight to himself, and will not
        release you from it even to pay bride-price for your intended?"
        "Mighty lugal, you do," Sharur answered. Neither he nor his father
        not, so far as he knew, his grandfather's ghost had noised about the
        god's command. If Dimgalabzu had spoken of it to the lugal, however,
        (he smith would certainly have been within his rights.
        Kimash frowned. "The god uses you harshly," he observed. The
        frown got deeper. "All the gods use Gibil harshly these days. Our
        merchants return empty,handed from their journeys; no merchants
        from other cities, no merchants from other lands, come into our mar-
        ket square to trade their wares for ours. Our city suffers." He drew in
        a deep breath. "Did Engibil take it into his mind to cast me down
        from this high seat, many in Gibil would celebrate. Did the god take
        it into his mind to cast me out of this palace, many in the city would
        rejoice. Under Engibil's rule, they would reckon, trade would return.
        Under the god's rule, they would reckon, profit would grow."
        "And they would become as the Imhursagut are," Sharur said.
        "Who among us would care to live as the Imhursagut live, with En-
        Ribil speaking from our mouths as Enimhursag speaks through theirs?"
        "Who cares to live in a city without trade?" Kimash returned.
         "Who cares to live in a city without profit? Fewer men than you
         would suppose, son of Ereshguna."

    




    130          I)ARRY TURTLE!Oove
    
     "I would not care to live in a city without trade," Sharur aid~,'~
                                        les
                                         s,
                                          s 'o
    would not care to live in a city without profit. But still w u
    care to live as the Imhursagut live."
    
     "It is because this is so that I have summoned you," the lugal told
    him. "Along with me, son of Ereshguna, you and your house stand
    to lose the most if Engibil should come to rule this city once
    as well as reigning over it."
     Sharur bowed his head. "What you say is true, mighty lugal.
    already lost, or nearly lost, a marriage my family, my intended's
    ily, and I myself want very much, as you know."
     "Yes, I do know this," Kimash said, nodding. "It is why
    moned you. It is why I give to you and to no other the task I hold
    in my mind."
     "What task is that, mighty lugal?" Sharur asked.
     Kimash answered indirectly: "Son of Ereshguna, you were the first
    to bring back to Gibil word that men of other cities, men of other
    lands, would not treat with us. You were the first to bring back to
    Gibil word that gods of other cities, gods of other lands, were anp
    at us. I charge you with learning why this is so. I charge you
    learning what we can do to make this so no longer."
     "Mighty lugal-" Sharur hesitated.
     'Speak," Kimash urged. "Give forth. Say what is
     "Very well. As you will have heard from me, mighty lugal, the god~
    of the Alashkurrut say they will not let the Alashkurrut trade wi
    us because we are too much our own men and not enough men
    our god. The only way to make this not so that I can see rjd lx
    to become as the Imhursagut are."
    
     "Yes, son of Ereshguna, I have heard this from your lips,
    mash agreed. "But I have for you a question of my own: howl
    we more our own men this year than we were last year? How
                                            ,oul
    we less men of our god this year than we were last year?
    the Alashkurrut trade with us last year and not this year        L;
    changed in so short a time, to set the gods of the Al
    and some of the gods of Kudurru as well, it is not to b
    against us?"                           A
     Sharur stared at Kimash. Then, all unbidden, he prostrated himsd
    before the lugal once more. His head against the ground, he s

    




    13ETWEEM T'hC WERS
    
    131
    
    "Truly, mighty lugal, these are questions that want answering. When
    the gods spoke to me, I took their words for truth, and did not look
    behind them. By the way they spoke," he added, "I saw nothing but
    
    tru in their words."
    
     "Rise, Sharur," Kimash said. "I would not deny the gods of the
    Alashkurrut told you the truth. I do not deny the mountain gods
    spoke truly. But was the truth they told all of the truth? Do gods not
    
    speak the truth and speak in riddles at the same time?"
    
    "Mighty lugal, it is so," Sharur said.
    
    "Of course it is so," Kimash answered. "The gods created man in
    
    the misty depths of time, and no man yet has learned why, not from
    that day to this. There are truths within truths within truths, as in
    an onion there are lavers within lavers within lavers. This is the task
    
    I set you, son of Ereshguna: bite into the onion of truth. Go past that
    first laver with the teeth of vour wit. Learn what lies beneath it.
    
    Learn and tell me what vou have teamed "
    
     "It shall be as you say." Sharur bowed to the lugal. "I will learn
    what I may as quickly as I may, and I will tell you what I have
    learned." He hesitated. "I do not think I will be able to learn all I
    need within the walls of Gibil. I shall have to travel beyond the lands
    
    our cit rules "
    
     "Travel where you will," Kimash told him. "I hope, though, that
    you will not need to return to the mountains of Alashkurru. I do not
    know if Gibil would be as it was when you returned from such a long
    voyage; I do not know if I would still sit on this high seat when ou
    
    came back from such a great journey."
    
    More than anything else the lugal had said, that showed Sharur
    
    how deep his worry ran. If Kimash feared Engibil might take ba6
    the city before Sharur could return from the-land of the Alashkurrut
    the power of the lugal truly hung by a thread. "Mighty lugal," Sharu
    said, the polite title reminding him as it was not intended to do o
    the limits to Kimash's might, "I hear you. Mighty lugal, I obey you
    I shall not go to the mountains of Alashkurru. I shall remain in the
    land between the rivers. I shall Po to the citv closest to ours that
    
    may spend as little time on the road as can be."
    
    "it is well," Kimash said. "It is very well." By his expression,
    though, it was not well, nor would it be until and unless Sharur
    
    ith
    
                                        ods
                                        7ith
    I of
    I be
    
    Ki,
    are
    
                                       mself
                                       said,
                                      
    
    




    132
    
    bZ,RRY TURTLrobovc
    
    returned with the answers he needed. After coughing a couple
    times, he went on, "May you have good fortune on your journey
    Zuabu. May you learn what you seek in the city of thieves."
     "Mighty lugal, you misunderstand me," Sharur said. "I d t
    tend to go to Zuabu. I do not intend to travel to the city o
     "What then?" the lugal asked. His eyes widened. "Y
    intend to go to Imhursag? You do not intend to travel t
    drunk on its god?"
     Sharur nodded. "I do. The Imhursagut I met on the road
    would have trouble in the mountains of Alashkurru. Enilhui
    knew I would have no easy time among the Alashkurrut. If answ
    lie within the land between the rivers, they will lie in Imhursag.
    answers are to be found within Kudurru, they will be found a
    the Imhursagut."
     "You are bold. You are brave." Kimash's voice was troubled. "Even
    now, Engibil rests more than he acts. It is not so with Erumhurs
    The god of Imhursag watches his city. If you cross from the land Gi
    rules to the land where Enimhursag is lord, the god will know you
    for what you are. His eye will never leave you. His ear wi
    bent your way. You shall not succeed."
     "Mighty lugal . . ." Sharur paused. "Let me think. This thing4
    doing; of that I am sure. How best to do it. . ." He paused again
    After a bit, he brightened. "Have I your leave, mighty lugal, to spe
    a little more time on the road to Imhursag than I might otherwise~'
     "Imhursag is not so distant," Kimash answered. "What is in your
    mind?"
     "Suppose, mighty lugal, that I do as you thought I would do: sup,
    pose I go to Zuabu, or to the land Zuabu rules. Zuabu and Imhursag
    are at peace; Enimhursag and Enzuabu have no quarrel. If I enter
    Imhursaggi land from Zuabu, to the eye and ear of Enimhursag I shall
    seem only another Zuabi myself If he does not know me for what
    am, he will take no special notice of me."
     "This is a good notion-or as good as a notion can
    times," Kimash said. "No, son of Ereshguna, I shall not beg
    the time you take traveling to Imhursag by way of Zuabu.
    shall hope that you are able to turn the time into profit for
    for me, and for Gibil."

    




    ds
    in.
    nd
    
     ur
    se
    0
    
   sup,
    sag
    nter
    shall
    at I
    
    BCTWEEM TbE RIVERS
    
    133
    
     He said not a word about profit for Engibil, which was one reason
    Sharur was so willing to do as he wished. The less the god interfered
    in Sharur's life, the happier he would be. He was certain of that;
    when the god had interfered in his life, it had made him very unhappy
    indeed '
     "Do you require anything more of me, mighty lugal?" he asked.
     "I require that you succeed, Kimash answered. "Gibil requires that
    you succeed. If we are not to return to what we were in the days
    before we learned to put tin in with copper, if we are not to return
    to what we were in the days before we learned to set our records
    down on clay, if we are not to return to the days before we learned
    to think our own thoughts and act on our own purposes, we all require
    that you succeed."
     Sharur took a deep breath. "Mighty lugal, you tie a heavy load
    onto my back. I hope I am a donkey strong enough to bear the
    burden."
     "if you are not, where shall I find a stronger one?" Kimash asked.
     He did not put the question intending that it be answered, but
    Sharur answered it nonetheless, and without hesitation: "Ereshguna,
    my father."
     The lugal pursed his lips as he considered that. "No," he said at
    last. "In this, I would sooner have you. I speak not of donkeys but of
    rams: the young ram will go forward where the old ram would falter."
    He chuckled under his breath. "The young ram will go forward where
    the old ram would think twice. Be my young ram, Sharur. Go forward
    for me. Go forward, and lead the city toward safety."
     "Mighty lugal, you may trust in me!" Sharur exclaimed.
     "I do," Kimash said simply. "Go now. Go for me. Go for Gibil."
     "I shall go now," Sharur said. "I shall go for you, mighty lugal. I
    shallgo for the Giblut." And I shall go for myself, and for the sake of
    Ningal. He did not say that aloud. Only later did he realize it was
     likely the chiefest reason for which Kimash sent him forth.

    





    




    Sharur tugged at the donkey's lead rope. "Demons eat you!" he
    shouted in the best Zuabi accent he could assume. "Devils flay the
    hide off your bones! There lies the city, just ahead. If you want to
    rest, you can rest inside it."
     The donkey brayed and looked stubborn and set its feet and would
    not go forward. A man with a couple of pots full of grain strapped to
    his back strode around Sharur as he went back to the animal and got
    it moving with a direct brutality of which Harharu would have dis-
    approved. The others on the road to Imhursag-the road the donkey
    was doing its best to block-did not complain; on the contrary.
     "You stupid thing," Sharur said, as the donkey resentfully started
    going once more. "You stupid, ugly thing. Under the shadow of the
    walls, you want to stop. I tell you, it shall not be." The donkey brayed,
    but kept walking.
     In Sharur's view, the walls of Imhursag were not nearly so fine as
    those of his own city. They were not so high as Gibil's walls, nor did
    they compass round so broad an area. Much of the brickwork was
    old, and in imperfect repair. But that only made the temple of En-
    imhursag, thrusting step by narrowing step into the sky above the top
    of the wall, seem more massive and imposing by comparison. This
    was the god's city first, with men and their needs an afterthought.
      Guards at the gate looked Sharur and the donkey over without
     much interest. "Where from?" one of them asked.
      "Zuabu," he answered, and pointed southwest.
      "What's the beast carrying?" the guard inquired.
      Was Enimhursag looking out through the bored man's eyes? Was
     the god of Imhursag speaking through the bored man's lips? Sharur
     did not think so, but knowing was hard. Still, having succeeded with

    




    136
    
    bARRY TURTLe0ove
    
    the lie-no, the half-truth, for the guard had not asked his ho
    city-about his origin, he had not intended to speak anything
    the truth here: "Bronze and bracelets and beads and pickled p
    hearts."
     "Where'd you come by all that stuff?" the Imhursaggi asked.
    and his companions chuckled at that. The Imhursagut were men I
    any others ... when Enimhursag let them be so.
     As if his dignity had been affronted, Sharur drew himse
    straight. I traded for it-of course."
     The guards laughed out loud. "Of course, Zuabi," their leader sa
    They didn't believe him. None of Zuabu's neighbors believed Zuab
    when they proclaimed their honesty. The guard went on, (jus
    member, friend, your light-fingered god won't protect you if you
    out of line here. Enimhursag, the great lord, the mighty lord, love
    thieves not."
     His voice grew deeper, more rolling, more imposing when he
    tioned his god-or was it the god delivering a warning thr, ugh
    I don't know what you're talking about," Sharur said in tonm
    arch to be taken seriously. Laughing once more, the guards w
    him into Imhursag.
     As he passed through the gateway into the city rival to his own
    Sharur felt, or thought he felt, a tingle run through him. The hair
    on his arms and chest stood out from his body for a moment, as if
    lightning had struck not too far away. Then the feeling faded, and
    he might have been in any city of Kudurru.
     Most of the Imhursagut, to look at them, were not much di
    from other folk of the land between the rivers. Peasants gaped at C
    number and size of the buildings Imhursag held. Potters shouted their
    wares. Customers shouted derision at them. A drunken woman slep
    in the shade of a mud-brick wall. Her tunic had hiked up to sho
    her secret place. A small boy pointed and giggled. A dog lapped up
    what was left of the beer in the pot beside her, then lifted
    against the wall. The small boy giggled louder.
     Here and there, though, Enimhursag's priests-the god's eyes,
    god's spies-strode through the streets. They shaved their hea
    They shaved their beards. Sharur wondered if they ever blinked,
    didn't think so. Whenever he saw one of them, he kept his own e,

    




    IF
    
    1,
    
    iT
    if
    
    nt
    tle
    
    'pt
    DW
    
                                         UP
                                        leg
    
                                        the
                                        Ids.
    He
    ,yes
    
    B40TWCCNI T C RIVERS
    
    13
    
    cast down to the dirt of the street so as to draw no notice. He did
    his best not to imagine what would happen if Enimhurs realized a
    
    Gibli had sneaked into his city.
    
     A gang of slaves was knocking down a mud,brick building. Only
    a single overseer watched them, and was paying more attention to a
    harlot sauntering along the street than to the workmen. Nonetheless,
    they labored steadily and diligently. In Gibil, a gang supervised with
    
    such laxness would have accomplished nothing.
    
     One of the slaves, seeing the overseer's eyes following the rolling
    buttocks of the harlot, did lean on his copper-shod digging stick for
    a breather. After a moment, though, the slave stiffened and began
    breaking up mud brick once more. "I pray your pardon, mighty lord,"
    he muttered as he worked. "I am but a lazy dung fly, unworthy of
    your notice. I am but a lowly worm, not deserving of your attention."
    
    How the chunks flew from the brick!
    
     Sharur shivered. No wonder the overseer could turn his gaze to-
    ward a whore's backside rather than keeping it firmly fixed on the
    work gang. Enimhursag watched the slaves, and held them to their
    tasks more thoroughly than the man might have done with lash and
    shouted curses. Sharur wondered if Enimhursag was keeping special
    watch on this gang because the building that would replace the one
    We demolishing w
    they          as to serve his cult, or whether the god
    
    simplfAirveyed all the slaves in his city.
    
     The less Sharur spoke, the less chance he had of betraying himself
    to the people or to their vigilant god. He had hoped to be able to
    
    find the market square without talking to any of the Imhursagut. But
    the streets of Imhursag were like those of Gibil. They were like those
    of any other city in the land between the rivers. They bent and
    twisted back on themselves in ways no one who had not lived in
    lmhursag since birth-or no one whom Enimhursag did not guide-
    
    I could hope to understand.
    
    After passing the gang of sweating slaves and their inattentive
    human overseer for the second time, Sharur realized he might wander
    
    till nightfall without stumbling upon what he sought. No help for it,
    &n, but to ask an Imhursaggi. He put the question to a graybeard
    
    caMing a large bundle of palm ftonds.
      0
    
    from here, eh?" the old man said. "No, I can tell you ain'

    




    138
    
    DARRY TURT]LcOove
    
    I can. You talk funny, you do. Well, from here you go. . . " His
    trailed away. Was he reviewing the plan of the city he carried
    mind? Or was he asking Enimhursag for the answer-and reo
    it? Sharur did not inquire. Sharur would sooner not have knowi
    old man resumed: "Second left, third right, first left, and
    there."
     "Second left, third right, first left," Sharur repeated. "I than
    May your god bless you for your kindness."
     "Oh, he does, lad, he does." The old lmhursaggi's smile was
    and happy. He liked living in a city where the god ruled di
    Sharur did not understand, but he did not argue, either. Th
    the man again, he led the donkey down the street.
     The directions, whatever their source, were good. Irnhursag
    ket square proved neither so large nor so noisy as that of Oil
    after a moment Sharur revised that first impression: lmhursag
    ket square might be small, but at the moment it was a gre
    noisier than that of Gibil. Merchants from all over Kudurru
    surrounding lands thronged here, where the Giblut traded
    themselves and large stretches of the square of Gibil were t
    but bare dirt and blowing dust. Seeing Imhursagut profit wl
    own people had to dowithout infuriated Sharur.
     He found a tiny open area in the square of lmhursag, tethc
    donkey to a stake driven into the ground not far away, and
    his own trade goods on cloths. That done, he began loudll
    their virtues.
     Imhursagut and merchants from other cities and other [an
    dered through the market square. Sharur quickly sold severa'
    pickled palm hearts to an Imhursaggi tavern keeper. The rn
    "Come to my place-I am Elulu-on the Street of Enim
    Elbow, just past the bend. My wife cooks palm hearts in ma
    ways.
     "if I can come, I will come," Sharur said, bowing. The If
    smooth as he could make it; he had no intention of-goin
    street named for any part of lmhursag's city god.
     A couple of women traded him broken bits of bronze an
    for his beads. So did a couple of men, buying for their wa
    In such small dealings, the Imhursagut seemed little differ,

    




    the people of Gibil. Without the eyes of the god on them, they were
    indeed simply people. They were also rather simple people; Sharur
    got more for the ornaments from them, and with less haggling, than
    he would have from Giblut.
     Then one of the shaven-headed priests stopped in front of him.
    The man picked up a knife. He handled it like one knowledgeable
    of weapons. "This is fine metalwork," he observed.
     I thank you, sir, that I do." Shatur laid on the Zuabi accent like
    a peasant spreading manure thickly over his field.
     "I would not have thought Zuabu could claim such skilled smiths."
    The priest's eyes moved back and forth, back and forth, from the
    blade he held in his hand to Sharur. Enimhursag was staring out of
    those~eyes, too. "Tell me, if you will, whence came this blade. Tell
    me, if you know, where it was made."
     "He who traded it to me said it came from Aggasher," Sharur
    answered. Not only was Aggasher farther from Imhursag than Zuabu,
    and so less likely to be intimately familiar to Enimhursag and his
    minion, it was also ruled by its goddess, and so more likely to be
    pleasing to the god and his priest.
     "Aggasher, eh?" The priest felt of the knife. "Well, it could be.
     Metalworking makes the touch of a god hard to detect. Were it less
     useful, it would be banned. Perhaps, one day, it shall be banned
     anyway," Was that Enimhursag, thinking aloud through the priest's
     lips! Not all the sweat running down Sharur's back sprang from the
     heat of the day. But then the priest went on, I have need of a good
     blade, Zuabi, How much will you try to steal from me for it?"
     Against him, Sharur did not bargain so hard as he might have. He
     did not care to risk drawing Enimhursag's attention to himself Even
     he would have been pleased in Gibil with the weight of silver he
     for the dagger.
      A man with a pot of beer strode through the market square, selling
      cups of his brew for bits of metal. Sharur gladly drank one. He did
      riot think the beer was as good as they brewed in Gibil. He did not
      d:dnk anything in lmhursag was as good as its Gibli counterpart.
       Not Iong after he gave the clay cup back to the beerseller so the
       n could refill it for his next customer, a couple of foreigners walked
                 Alashkurrut sweltering in their tunics. One of
    
    DETWEEM TbC RIVERS
    
    139
    
    t

    




    140
    
    b&RRy TuRTILcOove
    
    them was colored like a man of Kudurru; the other had lighter, rud-
    dier skin and hair of a woody brown rather than the usual black. :,
     "Good-looking blades there," the fair one said to the other in their
    own language. Sharur stood still as a stone and looked stupid, not
    wanting them to know he understood. The man from the west
    mountains went on, "They might almost be Gibli work."
     His companion snorted. "Not in this city, Piluliumas," he
    "This city is Gibil's foe. No Giblut come here."
    
     "Piluliumas, I know Gibli blades when I see them, Luwiyas said
    stubbornly. He turned to Sharur and spoke in the language of the
    co
    land between the rivers: "You, trader. Where do these knives i rr~
    from? What city do these swords call home?"
     Bowing, Sharur answered, "I got these blades, knives and swords,
    in Zuabu. The man who traded them to me said they were made in
    Aggasher." Having told that story to the priest, he had to stick by it.
    Enimhursag might be listening.
     "There, you see?" Piluliumas said. "Aggasher, not Gibil."
     But Luwiyas said, "In Zuabu, they will sell you your own head I
    make a profit on it. In Zuabu, they will sell you someone else's head,
    and say it is your own and make you believe it. If the god of Zuabu
    were not a god of thieves himself, his people would steal the jewels
    from his earrings."                    I'
     Sharur had to work hard to keep his face straight and preter4he
    did not follow the Alashkurri. Luwiyas's opinion of Zuabut was ilen,
    tical to his own; the man must have had dealings with them. His
    friend said, "It could be so, I suppose. They do look like good blad
    Shall we see what he wants for them?"
     "Not now, Luwiyas answered. "We have asked about them,so
    will seek too much for them. Let us come back tomorrow, as, Ab,
    chance, and trade as if we do not care. He is no master me
    he would have more goods. He will be glad enough to t
    then."
     His companion bowed. "You are wise. It is good."
     Sharur thought Luwiyas was good, -too, his one mistake bei
    assumption that a chance-met merchant in the market squari
    not speak his language. The two Alashkurrut went off to dis
    someone else's goods. Sharur had already intended to sto

    




    13CTWCC-M TbC RIVERS
    
    141
    
    overnight in Imhursag; indeed, to stay in the city whose god hated
    him until he found answers to the questions Kimash had set him.
    Now he dared hope he might gain some of those answers sooner than
    
    he had exnected.
    
    As far as Sharur was concerned, the inn he chose for the night would
    have been reckoned poor in Alashkurru, a disgrace in Gibil. It was
    dark and dirty. The food ranged from bad to worse. The room to
    which the innkeeper showed him was so tiny and smelly and full of
    bugs, he carried his sacks of trade goods out to the stables and bedded
    
    down in the straw beside his donkey.
    
     When the innkeeper refused to give back any part of what he'd
    
                                             12
    paid, he shouted at the man. "You gave me copper for a night's food,
    the lmhursaggi said. "You gave me copper for a night's lodging. You
    have had food here. You have lodLing here. Shall we oo to the aod?
    
    Shall we let Enimhursag decide?"
    
    "No," Sharur said quickly. The innkeeper smirked, thinking that
    meant Sharur admitted justice lay with him. In fact, Sharur admitted
    nothing of the sort, but let himself be cheated to keep the god's eye
    from falling on him.
    
    en-
    His
    des.
    
    o he
    if by
    t, or
    th us
    
     g the
    Would
  arage
    stay
    
    And, as he drifted toward sleep, he decided that perhaps he was
    not being cheated after all. He was, in fact, more comfortable than
    he would have been in that nasty little cubicle. He looked over to-
    ward the donkey. Though still without any great love for the stubborn
    ~Cast, he said, "You are better company than that jackass of an inn-
    
    keeper."
    
    I
    The donkey snorted. Sharur rolled over and fell asleep
    
    Some time later, his eyes came open, or, at least, he saw once more.
    Was he awake? Did he dream? He did not know. He could not tell.
    Normally, that alone would have told him he was dreaming. Every-
    thing he saw, though, everything he heard and felt and smelled,
    seemed too vivid, too real, for a dream. Everything seemed too co-
    
    herent for a drea too
    
    But neither was he in the world to which he usually awoke. He
    
    ~~,,itched and marveled. Presently, he grew afraid.
    
    He was moving through a green, growing field of barley. The stalks

    





    




    142
    
    bZ,RRY TURTLE00VE
    
    of grain, though, towered over his head as if they were the oaks and
    ashes and elms and other trees with peculiar names that grew in the
    mountain valleys of Alashkurru. Had he grown tiny, or had the barley
    become huge? He could not tell. He knew only that he had to keep
    walking through it, for he was going toward ... going toward... He
    could not remember what he was going toward, only that gettinj
    there was important.
     Then he did remember something else. Something-he could not
    remember what-would try to stop him. Something, if
    chance, would do worse than try to stop him.
     No sooner had that thought crossed his mind than someth
    the something he did not know-stirred the tops of the barley st
    shoving them aside so that the sun stabbed down into the green,
    tinged twilight through which he moved. He scurried away from that
    light, for he did not want it to pin him to the ground. Whatever was
    up there would find him then.
     Glistening with sweat in the sunlight, a hand and arm geoped
    toward him. Each finger on that hand was longer than he was; he
    could have stood and danced on that immense palm. But if dwse
    fingers and that palm closed on him, he did not think he woold
    dance. He did not think he would dance ever again.
     He realized then, as he had not realized before, that he was no'
    the only manikin moving through the field of barley. Others
    scurried along beneath the growing grain. That enormous ha
    closed around one of them and lifted him up toward the light. thin
    wail of terror rose, and then cut off abruptly. Sharur dove t to a
    hollow in the ground. A cockroach already sheltered there. It iul~
    not much smaller than he; for a moment, he thought it would fii
    him to hold its hiding place. But then it fled, hairy legs flailing.
     That immense hand descended once more. Blood now stain
    palm and fingers. A drop fell on Sharur as the hand passed over him.
    It went after the cockroach, whose motion must have drawn attep,
    tion away from his hiding place. Looking up through the shi
    barley stalks, he saw an intent, serious face as big as the world. HC
    shut his eyes as tight as he could, not so much to keep the eye i~
    that face from seeing him as to keep himself from seeing them.

    




                         73ETWCEM TI?C RIVERS         143
    
        The hand groped after the cockroach. When it rose, though, it
    e   was empty; the scuttling bug had escaped. A great bellow of rage
    y   filled the sky, as if a thunderstorm cried out with the voice of a man.
    p
    e
    9   Sharur woke in the stable to the sound of his donkey-indeed, all
        the donkeys in their narrow stalls-braying frantically. His chest was
    ot  wet. Some of the straw around him was wet. His first thought was
    e   that the donkey, in its fright, had kicked over or broken the pot of
    water the stablehands had left for it.
        But that was not so; the light from a guttering torch outside the
    S,  stall showed him the bowl where it belonged. It also showed him the
    en- liquid that splashed him was dark, not clear. A hot, metallic smell
    at rose from it.
    was "Blood!" he exclaimed, recognition and horror mingling in his
        voice, He snatched up unstained straw from the floor, dipped it into
    ped the donkey's water pot, and washed himself as clean as he could.
    he  While scrubbing at himself, he remembered the barley field. What
    ose had been hunting him through it, and what had that great hand
    ould                                                 caught instead of him? That it had wanted him he had no doubt.
        Slowly, the donkeys calmed. As their racket subsided, Sharur heard
    s not                                                more racket-the racket of men, outside the stable. He ran out into
    also the night to find out what was going on.
    hand                                                 "Lord Enimhursag!" people were shouting, and "The god!" and
    thin                                                 "The power of the god!" and "Who was the evildoer the god chose
    nto a M punish?"
    It was                                               People were running from the inn as Sharur came out of the sta
    fightbles. Some of them had the same sorts of questions as did he. Others
    9.  knew more, or said they did. "Squashed him flat!" one of them
    tainedshouted. "Squashed him flat as a cockroach!" (Sharur shuddered.)
    r him."He must have had it coming," someone else said-the innkeeper.
    atten-He was carrying a torch. In its light, his eyes were wide and glittering.
    iftingCatching sight of Sharur, he said, "You're a lucky bugger, Zuabi, and
    r1d. He you had better believe it."
    "Why?" Sharur asked. "What happened?"
    eyes in
        "When that room didn't suit you-and curse me if I know why it
    in.

    




    144
    
    OARRY TURTLeOove
    
    didn't-I put another traveler from your city into it," the m
    swered. "The god only knows what crimes he'd committed-a
    god made him pay for them."
     "Reached right through the roof and squashed him flat!" th
    fellow repeated, in a voice suggesting he'd had enough beer and
    some the night before.
     "Enimhursag knows a man's heart. Enimhursag sees a man's
    the innkeeper said. "The god of our city is a just god. The god
    city is a righteous god. The god of our city is a might god."
     The god of your city is a stupid god, Sharur thought. The god
    city is a clumsy god. Enimhursag had discovered that one man i
    hursag claiming to be a Zuabi was not what he seemed. (Tha
    anything but stupid, a point on which Sharur chose not to d
    The god had tracked the false Zuabi to a particular inn. (Tha
    anything but clumsy, another point Sharur would sooner h
    gotten.) At the inn, though, Enimhursag had slain the wrong
    choosing the true instead of the false. (He might well have sla
    right one, a point about which Sharur refused to think in an
    whatever.)
     "Was he kin of yours, this other fellow from your city?" the.
    keeper asked.
     Sharur thought for a moment before he answered. If he sa
    the innkeeper might let him look at or even take the effects o
    other Zuabi, the true Zuabi, and who could guess what he might
    from them? But, on the other hand, if he said yes, he might
    Enimhursag's notice back to himself where the god now belie
    troubles. with Zuabut were over. That last consideration de
    Sharur. "No," he said.
     "An honest Zuabi," the innkeeper said. "Isn't that funny?
    thing you know, we'll be seeing a pious Gibli." He laughed loud
    his own wit. Sharur thought he heard other laughter, deeper la
    echoing through and around that of the innkeeper. He told
    he was imagining that other laughter, and wished he cou
    himself believe it.
     "If the excitement's over, I'm going back to bed,
    forced out a yawn. He was not sleepy any more; the yawn wa
    artificial as any of the expressions he wore while haggling over

    




    st
    
    en
    
    ur
    
    ell.)
    was
    for-
    abi,
    the
    
    way
    
    inn-
    
    d yes,
    of the
    learn
    draw
    ed his
    ecided
    
    ? Next
    udly at
    ughter,
    himself
    e made
    
 aid, and
     was as
     overthe
    
    BETWEEN TI)E RIVERS
    
    145
    
    price of a spearhead. Like those artificial expressions, this one served
    its purpose.
     Before he lay down again, he shifted the straw in the donkey's stall
    to make sure he did not lie on any that was bloodstained. After he
    lay down, he sent a prayer in the direction of Enzuabu, apologizing
    that the god's subject had been taken in his place. And after that, to
    his surprise, he slept.
    
    When he woke the next morning, he saw he had not done such a
    good job of cleaning himself as he had thought. But what had escaped
    his eye in the night had also escaped the eyes of the innkeeper and
    the guests who had spilled out of the inn after Enimhursag visited it
    in hi ath. He did better before letting anyone see him by light of
    
     The barley porridge the innkeeper gave him for breakfast was bland
    and watery. He gulped it down anyhow, and then loaded trade goods
    onto his, donkey and hurried out to the market square.
     Arriving not long after sunrise, he found a better place than that
    from which he had done business the day before. He set out knives
    and swords and pickled palm hearts and started crying for customers.
    Before long, as if by chance, the Alashkurrut with whom he'd talked
    the day before came by. It wasn't chance, either on their part or on
    his: one of the reasons he reckoned the spot where he'd set up better
    than that which he'd had the day before was that it lay close to the
    Jisplay the men from the mountains had made for their own goods.
     Bowing to them, Sharur said, "The gods give you a good day, my
    masters. How may I serve you?"
     "Perhaps, since we are here, we will look further at these blades of
    yours," Piluliumas said, picking up one and hefting it. "I suppose I
    can say they are not the worst blades I have seen in the land between
    the rivers."
     "You are generous to a small merchant." Sharur bowed again.
     Piluliumas's companion plucked at the sleeve of his tunic. He

    




    spoke in the language of the Alashkurru Mountains: "I still say these
    blades look like Gibli work. VAat will our gods do to us if we bring
    back blades from Gibil?"

    




    146
    
    DARRY TURTLCOOVE
    
     "You worry too much, Luwiyas. Metal's home is hard to tell," I
    luliumas answered in the same tongue. "Besides, he said they we
    from Aggasher." The trader from the mountains shifted to the la
    guage of Kudurru: "You there, Zuabi-you said these swords we
    from Aggasher, not from Gibil?"
     "Yes~ I said that," Sharur agreed. "I said it because it is so."
     Pituliumas looked happy. Luwiyas did not. "Will you swear in E
    zuabu's name that this is so?"
     "In Enzuabu's name I swear it," Sharut said at once. Enzuabu v
    not his god. His only hesitation over the false oath was some sm
    concern that Enzuabu might catch and punish him when he wc
    back onto Zuabi territory, But, for one thing, Enzuabu would r
    hear an oath made in Imhursag, and, for another, Sharur, havi
    escaped Enimhursag's wrathful search in the night, thought he coi
    escape Enzuabu, too.
     Now Luwiyas bowed to him. "It is good. You have done us a fav
    We will bargain with you for these blades." Piluliumas nodded.
     Sharur held up a hand. "A favor for a favor. Is this not right'
    this not just?" When the Alashkurrut looked alarmed, he smile4
    assuringly. "Nothing great, my masters. You asked a question of i
    I would ask a question of you. Is this not right? Is this not just~
     "Ah. A question for a question." Piluliumas relaxed. "Yes, thi
    right. Yes, this is just. Ask your question, Zuabi.11
     "I shall ask." Sharur looked sly, as a Zuabi would in seeking in~
    mation about a rival city. "Tell me, men of Alashkurru, why h
    your gods so harshly turned against the Giblut? Why do you nee(
    be so sure that nothing you buy, nothing you trade for, comes
    Gibil? I have seen this with other men from the mountains asi
    as with yourselves, my masters, but have never found the chand
    ask about it till now."
     Luwiyas dropped back into his own tongue: "How much mal
    tell him?"
     "We must tell him," Piluliumas answered in the same langir,
    "A favor for a favor, a question-for a question."
     "Let the small gods speak, if they will." Luwiyas still sound
    tied. "They will know what may be said. They will know what-
    not be said."                           i

    




     9
    ld
    
    ? Is
    
    re-
    
    me.
    
    is is
    
    nfor-
    have
    ca to
    from
    s welt
    ce to
    
    ay we
    
    guage.
    
     d wor-
    at must
    
    BETWEEM TbE RIVERS
    
    147
    
     "They will know you are a man who runs from a lizard sitting on
    a rock," Piluliumas said tartly. "But still, let it be as you say." He
    returned to the language of Kudurru: "Trader from Zuabu, come see
    what we have brought to the land between the rivers. Trader from
    Zuabu, come hear the small gods we have brought from the moun-
    tains of Alashkurru. A favor for a favor, a question for a question:
    the small gods will answer you."
     "I will come," Sharur said, hiding his worry. If the small gods the
    Alashkurrut had brought from the mountains recognized him as a
    man of Gibil, they would not tell him anything, or else they would
    tell him lies. If they recognized him as a Gibli, they might do him
    far more harm than that.
     Playing his role as a Zuabi to the hilt, he fussily packed up his own
    goods, muttering about thieves all the while. Luwiyas said, "Few steal
    in the market square of Imhursag. Few risk the anger of Enimhursag."
     441 am of Zuabu," Sharur said. "I take nothing for granted." The
    more he said he was from Zuabu, the more he made himself act like
    a Zuabi.
     He convinced the two Alashkurrut. Laughing, Piluliumas spoke in
    the language of the mountains: "Zuabut will steal anywhere. They
    think their god protects all thefts. They may even be right."
     "He will not steal from us," Luwiyas said, and set his hand on the
    hilt of his knife.
     Sharur looked from one of them to the other, his face set in lines
    of blank incomprehension. Only when Luwiyas gestured for him to
    follow did he lead his complaining donkey after the two Alashkurrut.
    The men from the mountains had come down to Kudurru with guards
    and donkey handlers, as caravans from the land between the rivers
    went up to Alashkurru.
     The guards looked bored, as Sharur's guards had looked bored up
    in the mountains. They were rolling dice in the dust of the market
    square, and tossing trinkets back and forth as they won or lost. They
    looked up at Sharur, decided he was harmless, and went back to their
                 K
    game.
         WE;
    "Here," Piluliumas said. "We have brought Kessis and Mitas with
    us from their home; we have brought them with us from our home.
    Thev.gre small gods of Alashkurru; they are small gods of our land.

    




    148
    
    bARRY TURTLcOove
    
    They will pay a favor for a favor; they will answer a question for
    question."
     One of the idols was carved from bone, in the shape of a dog. The
    other was carved out of a black, shiny stone, and looked somethi
    like a wild cat, something like a woman. Piluliumas and
    spoke together in their own tongue: "Small gods of the m
    gods who watch your folk far from home, here is a man of
    wise man, a worthy man, who would receive a favor for a fa
    would ask a question for a question asked of him."
     "I am Kessis. He may speak." The bone lips of the dog-shaped
    moved. The voice was rough and growly. As was the way with
    Sharur understood even though the words were strange.
     "I am Mitas. He may speak." The half-cat, half-woman of stone
    had a voice of such allure, a fancy courtesan would surely have craved
    it.
     "I thank you, small gods. I thank you, foreign gods. I ama man
    the land of Kudurru. I am a man of the city of Zuabu," Sharur sai
    Kessis and Mitas were only small gods. They were only foretgo'
    They would not know the difference between one city and a oither
    in the land between the rivers. Sharur very much hoped they would
    not know the difference between one city and another in the land
    between the rivers. He went'on, "Here is my question, Small
    foreign gods. I have heard that the gods of Alashkurru 'have
    angry at the men of Gibil, the men of the city east of mine, an&-2
     "It is true," Kessis interrupted.
     "Oh, yes, it is true," Mitas agreed. Her stone lips skinned
    from teeth like needles.
     Sharur bowed. "Thank you, small gods. Thank you, foreign
    Can you tell me why it is true? Knowing this, we of Zuabu will gain
    great advantage over the Giblut." Had he truly been a Zuab,, tha
    would have been so. What theft could be greater than a theft
    knowledge?
     Kessis's bone eyes rolled in their sockets. "He does not know,
    small god growled in astonishment.
     "No, he does not know." Mitas sounded far more desirable, but
    less surprised.

    




    13ETWEEN TbC RIVCRS
    
    S.
    r
    d
    d
                                        S,
                                        n
    
    A
    
    ds.
    
    ) the
    
    ut no
    
    149
    
     "Shall we tell him?" Kessis asked. "Should we tell him? Will we
    anger the great gods if we tell him?" The dog-shaped idol shivered.
    "I fear the anger of the great gods."
     "He is not a man of Gibil," Mitas said soothingly. "He is a man
    of Zuabu." Sharur stood very still, not wanting the small gods to think
    of questioning that.
     "Maybe he will tell what he learns to the Giblut," Kessis said
    worriedly.
     Both small gods turned their eyes toward Sharur. He had to speak.
    He knew he had to speak. When he spoke, he spoke without hesi-
    t ion, "By all the gods of Kudurru, I swear I shall not tell what you
    at ':
    tell me to any man not of my city." An oath to all the gods of the
    land between the rivers, unlike one to Enzuabu, would bind him. But
    he had managed to frame it in such a way as to make it serve his
    needs and deceive the small gods of Alashkurru.
     "It is good," Mitas purred. Sharur's blood heated when he listened
    to her.
     "Yes, it is very good," Kessis agreed.
     He still hesitated, despite that agreement. Mitas spoke to Sharur:
     "Man of Zuabu, you know the Giblut do not give any gods, not their
     god, not your gods, nor yet the gods of Alashkurru, the honor they
     deserve."
     "I have heard this, yes," Sharur said.
     "This is one reason the gods are unloving in return," Mitas said,
     "but it is only one. You know the Giblut, when they trade in Alash-
     kurru, trade not only for copper ore but also for other things-strange
     things, rare things, beautiful things, to take back to their city."
     "I have also heard this is so, yes." Shatur nodded.
     Kessis growled again: "One thing they took, they never should
     have taken. One thing a wanax or a merchant traded, he never
     should have traded. One thing that went to Gibil, it never should
     have gone to Gibil."
     "What thing is this?" Sharur asked.
     "It is a thing of the gods of Alashkurru," Kessis answered.
     "It is a thing of the great gods of Alashkurru," Mitas added. Re-
     mtnienttlavored that wonderful voice. Mitas went on, "I am a small

    




    ISO
    
    D&lR-Rv TuR-rLeoove
    
    god because the great gods do not let me grow great. I am
    enough for travelers to take with me on a journey. I am not g
    enough, I am not strong enough, to do more."
     "You speak truth." Kessis still sounded and looked worried. "It
    the same with me. But because we are not strong, because we are n
    great, we need to remember the great gods."
     "Why? They barely remember us." Mitas showed those nee
    sharp teeth again.
     "What sort of thing went from Alashkurru to Gibil?" Sharur ask
    once more. "Why are the great gods of Alashkurru angry that it we
    from the mountains to the land between the rivers?"
     "It is a thing of the great gods of Alashkurru," Mitas repea
    while Kessis let out growls that were close to frightened v -
    "It is a thing into which the great gods of Alashkurru poured Mu
    of their power, to keep it safe." Mitas's laugh was throaty an
    the laugh of a rich, beautiful woman rejecting the advance
    "They poured in their power, to keep it safe, and now t
    lost. And the thing can be unmade, the thing can be broken. T
    g in
    power can be spilled, the power can be lost, like beer soakin n
    the floor when a pot is dropped."
     "Is it so?" Sharur said softly. "In the name of ... Enzuabu, is it
     "It is so," Kessis answered. "Is it any wonder the great gods
    Alashkurru hate and fear the Giblut? Is it any wonder they want no
    more Giblut coming to the land of Alashkurru?"
     "What manner of thing is it that the great gods used to storo- Rin
    power?" Sharur asked. "Whence came it?"
     "We know not," Kessis growled.
     "It is a secret thing," Mitas added. She loosed that scornful la g
    once more. "It is such a secret thing, even the man who kept it kne
    not what he kept; he was ignorant of the treasure he held. And so it
    went to Gibil, traded for a knife of bronze or a pot of wine or so
    other trifle, when it was worth as much as any three cities in the I
    between the rivers. And so the great gods are in a swivet; and go
    mighty gods tremble. And so"-she laughed yet again-"it se
    them right."
     Sharur bowed low. "You have given me much to think on, Mi

    




    13CTWC-C" TOC RIVERS
    
    151
    
    and Kessis. You have given the folk of my city much to think on,
    
    small gods of Alashkurru."
    
     "Small gods chafe under the rule of great gods hardly less than men
    do," Mitas said. Kessis's low snarl might have been agreement. It
    might as easily have been a warning to Mitas to watch her tongue.
     Piluliumas said, "Zuabi, I will go back with you to the space you
    left in the market square. You have been here some little while. You
    have lost custom. I will go back with you and help you set out your
    
    goods once more."
    
     "Man of Alashkurru, you are generous." Sharur bowed again. "I
    gladly accept your help." He took hold of the donkey's lead rope.
    
    "Let us go."
    
     As they walked back toward the patch of dirt Sharur had vacatc
    Piluliumas said, "Zuabi, I will tell you a story. Hear me out befo
    you speak. Think three times before you answer. Is it agreed?"
    
    "Let it be as you say." Sharur nodded to Piluliumas. "I listen."
     "Good," the Alashkurri said. "Let us suppose that a man from the
    mountains came down to this hot, flat land to trade. Let us suppose
    that, in a town square, he met a man who said he was from Zuabu
    but who might have been from a different city, a city whose name i
    
    shall not speak. Do you understand so far?"
    
    1 will hear you out before I speak," Sharur replied. "I will think
    three times before I answer." Piluliumas knew him for what he was,
    or thought he did. Sharur had no intention of confirming his suspi-
    
    cions
    
    Piluliumas seemed unoffended. "Good," he repeated. "Let us sup-
    Pose that he had knowledge the man who said he was from Zuabu
    might find useful, but knowledge he could not pass to a man who
      ftom a different city, a city whose name I shall not speak. He
    
    3
    
    would ask no questions himselt. He would seek to gain no knowledge
    bimself. He would not make of himself a proved liar before the small
    go6s of Alashkurru. He would not make of himself a proved liar
    before the great gods of Alashkurru. He would say, and say truthfully,
    'The man said he was from Zuabu. I knew no differently. In the names
    of the small gods I swear it. In the names of the great gods I swear
    
    0 i

    




    152
    
    I)a,R-Ry TuRTLeibove
    
     "I think I do," Sharur answered. He kicked at the dirt. A puff
    dust flew up. "May I ask a question of my own?"
     "You may ask," Piluliumas said. "Because I am an
     may not answer."
     "Here is my question," Sharur said: "Why would a man from the
    mountains of Alashkurru care to help a man who said he was; from
    Zuabu, but who might have come from a different city, a city whose
    name I shall not speak? There are some cities in the land b tw
    the rivers whose people the great gods of Alashkurru hate."
     "There are some cities in the land between the rivers whose eo i
    the great gods of Alashkurru hate, true," Piluliumas agreed. , I
    is a city whose people they hate, at any rate. But the men f
    city have traded in the mountains and valleys of Alashkurru fo ye
    They have traded in the mountains and valleys of Alashkurru for
    generations. They have traded bronze, they have traded wine, and,
    sometimes not even knowing it, they have traded their words. Me
    of us have listened to those words and found them harder and sharper
    than bronze, sweeter and more splendid than wine. Do you undw
    stand, man of Zuabu?"
     "Piluliumas, I understand," Sharur answered. And understand he
    did. Huzziyas the wanax had wanted to escape the power of the4t
    gods of Alashkurru, but had been unable. Because he was a w
    they watched him closely, watched him and controlled him. Otfier~
    perhaps, they did not watch so closely. Piluliumas-and how man
    more like him?-had to some degree broken free of their gods, as the
    men of Gibil had done. Yes, the gods of Alashkurru had reason to
    fear the Giblut. They had, in fact, more reason to fear the Gib
    than Sharur had imagined.               I
     Piluliumas said, "I have told you a story, a story to make the it
    pass by. It could be nothing more. See what a lucky man you a
    that no one has taken your trading space while you visited ou;s!"
     "I am a lucky man, Piluliumas," Sharur said. "I am a veryjuc
    
    ignorant ma
    
    man.
    
    "We are lucky men, Sharur," Ereshguna said. "We are very luc
    men."

    




    I
    
    y
    
    ,I I
    
    13ETWEEM Tb6 RIVC-RS
    
    153
    
     "That we are," Tupsharru agreed, beaming at his older brother.
    "Not only did you thrust your head into the lion's mouth by going
    up to Imhursag, not only did you find out what Kimash the lugal and
    the rest of us in Gibil desperately needed to know, but you also came
    
    home with a profit."
    
     "if I can't make a profit trading against Imhursagut and foreigners,
    I am not a master merchant's son," Sharur said, and Ereshguna smiled
    at him. "The tale about being from Zuabu served me well. Zuabut
    are likely to have any sort of goods to trade, and no one asks man
    
    nuestions about how the ooods came into their hands."
    
     Ereshguna ran a hand through his beard. "These small gods of
    Atashk-r- ALI nnt cn What sort of thin-, had been carried down
    
    from the mountains here to Gibil?"
    
     "No, Father, they did not. If they spoke truly, they knew not."
    Sharur paused to dip up a fresh cup of beer from the pot the Imhur-
    sag i slave woman had brought at Ereshguna's order. After sipping,
    gg
    he went on, "I believe they did speak truly. They reckoned me a
    Zuabi who would use what they said against Gibil not a Gibli who
    
    would use it for his own city."
    
    "And yet that one Alashkuffi knew you for what you were." Er-
    eshguna stroked his beard once more. "Once men see other men free,
      wvant to become free themselves. This is so in Alashkurru. This
       ci
    i~ so ir c ties of Kudurru. ruled by ensis; I know as much for a fact. It
    
    could be so even in cities of Kudurru ruled by gods."
    
    "It must be so," Sharur said. "Gods once ruled all cities. Even the
    rule of ensis gives men more freedom-or lets men take more free-
    6orn-than the rule of gods." He hunched his shoulders, remember-
    ing the voice of Engibil forbidding him to borrow from his father to
    
    pay Ningat's bride-price.
    
    "Whatever this thing is, it must be a thing that came to Gibil in
    one of last year's caravans from Alashkurru," Ereshguna said, return-
    ing to the business at hand. "Last year, the gods of Alashkurru were
    friendly to us; not so this year. Likely, I would say, this thing came
    
    to Cli"il ;, " , a-an of the house of Presh "na. 'We deal more with
    
    the Alashkurrut than anv other merchant house of Gibil."
    
    "Likely I brought this thing to Gibil myself," Sharur said. "But
    how do we Lo about findine out what it is? I will guess it is not an

    




    154
    
    bz,RRy TuRTLe0ovc
    
    ingot of copper. I will guess it is not a sack of copper ore. These
    things would be changed and broken in the use of them. By what the
    small gods said, the power of the great gods is not lost from the thing
    in which they hid it, and the thing is not broken; they fear lest the
    thing be broken, and the power lost."
     Tupsharru said, "If it is not copper, if it is not copper ore, it is
    likely to be a strange thing, a curious thing, a beautiful thing. If it i's
    a strange thing, a curious thing, a beautiful thing, it may be anywhere
    in the city, for many Giblut prize these things and pay us well f
    them. But likeliest of all-"              I
     "-Likeliest of all," Sharur finished for him, "likeliest of all is th ' at
    it lies on the altar of Engibil, or stored away in the god's temple, for
    Kimash the mighty lugal delights in giving Engibil such gifts."
     "This is good," Ereshguna said. "This is very good indeed. If su
    a thing lies on the altar of Engibil, surely the god will know it
    what it is. If such a thing is stored away I
    he will point it out to us."
    
                              in the god s temp e, st I
    
     "If we return it to the gods of Alashkurru, they will no longer hav,
    reason to hate us," Tupsharru said. "Our caravans will be able t go
    into the mountains. They will come home with copper and c
    ore. The city will profit. The house of Ereshguna will profit."
     "I will profit," Sharur said dreamily. "With my profit, I wil
    Ningal's bride-price to Dimgalabzu the smith and fulfill my oat
    Engibil."
     "Let us go to the temple and seek this thing," Ereshguna sai
    we find it, Kimash the lugal will reward us for
    its sorrow."
     They drained their cups of beer. They set them down. They go
    to their feet. It was then that Sharur had a new thought, a differe
    thought. "If we find this thing in the temple of Engibil, if we find it
    there and we break it . . ." His father and his brother stared at himil 11
    as he finished the thought: "If we find it and we break it, we purish
    the gods of Alashkurru for slighting us."
     "What good would that do?" Tupsharru exclaimed in hoJ-11''
    would only make them hate us more."
     Ereshguna said nothing. "You see, don't you, Father?" Sha
    asked. Slowly, unwillingly, Ereshguna nodded. By Tupsharru's i
    
    saving the city from
             J a

    




    BETWEE" TbC RIVCRS
    
              eyes, he still did not follow. Sharur explained: "Into this thing,
              safekeeping, the great gods of the Alashkurrut have poured much
              their power. If we break the thing, we break the power and set t
              Alashkurrut free of their great gods."
              "Only in Gibil, and only in your generation, my son, would su
              a thought come into the mind of a man." Ereshguna sounded a
              and terrified at the same time. "I think Tupsharru. has the bet
              course. The Alashkurrut are only Alashkurrut. Who cares whett
              their gods rule them or not? If we find the thing, those gods
              welcome to it. They will reward us for it, as your brother says, a
              Kimash the lugal will reward us for it as well."
               "It may be so," Sharur said. "But if an Alashkurri like Piluliurr
    
    Eor
    ely
    
    ave
    ) go
    ).pef
    
                                       pay
                                       -h to
    
    d. (tif
    
    from
    
     got
    ~ferent
    find it
    at hirn
    putlish
    
    Cror. " It
    
    Sharur
    U )s wide
    
    can free himself, if an Alashkurri like Huzziyas can tremble on the
    edge of freeing himself, how many in the mountains would be free if
    the great gods there were weakened?"
     "Where is the profit in it7" his father asked.
     "I care only so much for profit, Sharur answered. Now his father
    gaped at him, as if he had said Engibil did not exist or uttered some
    other manifest absurdity. He went on, "I care also about revenge.
    The gods of the Alashkurrut have wronged me. Let them pay."
     "Aye, let them pay," Ereshguna said. "Let them pay compensation
    for the wrong."
     "Let them pay pain for the wrong, as I have done," Sharur said.
    but now he wavered. Even a killer's family could avoid blood feud
    by payments to the victim's kin. He scowled. He kicked at the dirt
    floor. "Perhaps." His tone was grudging.
     Tupsharru said, "We are pricing the lamb not born. We are pricing
    the sword not sharpened. We have not found this thing, whatever it
    may be. We do not know if we shall find this thing, whatever it may
    
     "True"' Ereshguna seized on that with transparent eagerness. "We
    do not know enough to have any certain plans yet. Let us go to the
    temple and see what we may learn. Let us go to the temple and see
    what Engibil may teach us."
     "Yes, let us go," Sharur said, and left his home with his father and
    his brother. The way the god had refused to release him from his oath
    and let him borrow from his father to pay bride-price to Dimgalabzu

    




    156
    
    1)~,RRy TuRTLeOovc
    
    left him less eager than he might have been to approach Engibii's
    house upon earth, but it needed doing, and he did not shrink from
    that which needed doing. Perhaps, as Tupsharru had said, finding the
    thing into which the Alashkurri gods had poured their power would
    let him make a profitable journey after all. And perhaps, as he
    said himself, finding the thing would let him take revenge on
    gods.
     Either way, he thought. Either way.
     Engibil's temple was larger than the palace of Kimash the lugal
    The chamber at the top of the temple where the god dwelt, toward
    which the massive structure tapered in a series of steps, was the hig'
    est point in Gibil. From it, Engibil could look out acro~
    city and across all the farmlands it ruled.
     Bigger than the palace the temple might have been. It
    more splendid. For one thing, much of it was old. Because it W-
    of baked bricks rather than sun-dried mud brick-nothing but
    best for Engibil-that was not so obvious as it might have been oth,
    erwise. The temple was not crumbling to pieces. But the brickwo'k
    had a faded, sun-blasted look that said it had been standing for a
    long time. No additions were going up, as they
    the lugal's palace.
    
                                    constantly were Rt
    
     Hangings of rich wool dyed crimson and the savor of burnt offer,
    ings went some way toward concealing the aging bones beneath, as
    paint would on a woman. And, as a woman heavy with paint in' ht
    be a long time realizing she was no longer beautiful, so Engibil, lul
    by Kimash's splendid presents and those of the previous lugals, J
    not yet noticed he was less supreme in his city than had once i en
    
     Some of his priests understood that far more completely than~ e
    The younger men in the priesthood were Kimash's creatures,,,, MO
    dedicated to lulling the god than to exalting him. The older se~iton
    still revered him as they and their predecessors had done back in ~t
    days when he ruled Gibil through an ensi, but year by year death
    through their ranks, as the scythe cut through rows of barley at
    vest time.
     A younger priest, his head shaved like those of the priests
    imhursag but his eyes clever and altogether his own, came up to
    
    SO.

    




    -BeTwee" Ti)e RIVERS
    
    157
    
      merchants in an outer courtyard. Bowing, he said, "I greet you in the
    t name of Engibil, Ereshguna. In the name of Engibil I greet you, sons
    of Ereshguna. May the god's blessings be upon you all."
      "I greet you in the name of Engibil, Burshagga," Ereshguna said,
      and bowed in turn.
      "In the name of Engibil we greet you, Burshagga," Sharur and
      Tupsharru said together. They also bowed.
      "How good when men are gracious," Burshagga said. "How pleas-
      ant when men are polite. How may this servant of Engibil also serve
      you.
      Ereshguna pointed to that topmost chamber. "If he be not other-
      wise engaged, we would speak with the god. If he be not otherwise
      busy, we would have words with him."
      The priest frowned. Plainly, he had not expected that. "On what
      matter would you speak with the lord of the city?"
       "On the matter that concerns Kimash the lugal," Ereshguna an-
    
     as
    ight
    111ea
    had
    been
    
    n he.
    more
    vitors
    iTY the
    th cut
    it har-
    
    swered, his voice as soft as lambswool.
    Burshagga's eyes widened. Now his bow was not the polite bow of
    greeting but the deeper bending that acknowledged authority. "Mas,
    ter merchant, if you are concerned with that matter ... Wait one
    moment, please." He hurried away.
    An old priest cocked his head to one side and examined Sharur
    and Tupsharru. and Ereshguna. His beard was not gray but snowy
    Al~ite. Surely he remembered the days before Igigi had taken the rule
    of Gibil out of Engibil's hands and into his own. And, by the way he
    scowled at the three merchants, the men of the new, he remembered
    those days fondly, too.
    Burshagga came back at a brisk walk. "The god is pleasuring him-
    self," he reported. "That being completed, you may attend him." His
    eye fell on the white-bearded priest. "Have you nothing better to do
    than stand and stare, Ilakabkabu? Why don't you take yourself off to
    the honevard-and save us the trouble?"
    "Because I am truly a man of Engibil," Ilakabkabu said. "I remem-
    ber the god first, not a mere man who will be dead and stinking soon
    enough, soon enough." lie. drew Wimself up witli -a pficle at t!ne same
    time stubborn and impotent.
     1 am a priest of the great god Engibil, as you are," Burshagga

    




    158
    
    1)24,RRY TURTLcOovc
    
    retorted. "I worship the great god Engibil, as you do. But I am not
    wedded to the past, as you are. I do not pant for the past as for a
    virgin bride, as you do. Go off to the boneyard, old fool; may yo
    forgotten ghost go straight to the underworld."
     "Engibil will remember my ghost," Ilakabkabu said. "Engibil wi
    cherish it." He walked off at a stiff-jointed shuffle.
     "Old fool," Burshagga repeated, this time to Ereshguna and
    sons. "He would take us back to the days before lugals, to the d
    before metal, to the days before writing, if he had his way."
     "Many things pull in that direction these days," Sharur said. Bur
    shagga nodded indignantly. He had his own kind of righteo
    different from Ilakabkabu's.
     "His years, if not his thoughts, may deserve respect," Ere
    said mildly.
     "Bah!" Burshagga said. But, before the priest could begin
    gument, one of his colleagues came trotting up and pointed t I
    the uppermost chamber in the temple. Seeing the gesture, Bur h tgga
    grew businesslike once more. "Engibil will grant you audience no
    This is, I remind you, on the matter that concerns Kimash the I
    Kimash the mighty lugal."
     He had his own way of getting the last word. As he turned to lead
    the merchants up to the god's audience chamber, Sharur studied him
    Burshagga too was a man of the new. The old had been disagreeable
    and tyrannical. Burshagga looked to be proof that the new could also
    be disagreeable and tyrannical. Sharur shrugged. Even the g
    their weaknesses, their failings.
     "Ascend Engibil's stairway!" the priest said. The stairway was one
    of four, one for each of the cardinal directions, that went up to
    chamber of the god. It had one step for every day of the year.
    being a man of the new, Shatur felt no small awe as he set his fut
    upon it. He had never gone up to an audience with Engibil befort
    Engibil had come to him-he remembered with a shiver the,od!
    voice beating through him on the Street of Smiths-but
    never gone to the god, not like this. -    .11
     Someone was coming down the long stairway as Sharur4'
    sharru. and Ereshguna climbed it. A woman, Sharur saw;"'she
    wenrinp tunic rather than kilt. As she drew closer, he recoRnized

    




    BETWEEM TbG RIVCRS
    
    ie
    .je
    Lte
    
    )Ot
    
    ~Te
    js
    Cyad
    
    was
    jlel-.
    
    the beautiful courtesan who had stripped herself naked in the street
    for him and his caravan crew to admire when he came back to Gibil
    from the mountains.
     He laughed under his breath. His brother looked a question at him,
    but he did not explain. He would not say what was in his thoughts,
    not here, not in the house of the god. Kimash the lugal had said he
    had ways of pleasing Engibil even without strange things, rare things,
    beautiful things from the land of the Alashkurrut. Remembering the
    lush ripeness of the courtesan's body, Sharur was certain she would
    have pleased him. No doubt she pleased the god, too.
     And, as he drew closer still, he saw the god had also pleased her.
    She walked with slightly unsteady step, as if she were on the edge of
    being drunk. Her smiling lips were swollen, bruised; but for the smile,
    all the muscles of her face had gone slack with pleasure. She stared
    through Sharur and Tupsharru and Ereshguna, the pupils of her eyes
    enormous as a wild cat's at midnight.
     After she swayed past Tupsharru, he laughed softly, too. "She was
     not a duckling, but she quacked like one," he murmured-a proverb
     about the sounds a truly kindled woman made in her ecstasy. Sharur
     nodded.
     By the time he reached the top of the stairway, sweat bathed him.
     A fat old priest who had to make that climb was liable to fall over
     dead. Sharur glanced toward his father. Ereshguna was neither fat nor
     verv old, but he lived his life in the city these days instead of leading
     caravans to distant lands. He was panting, but otherwise seemed all
      rig,,ht. Sharur was panting a little himself He nodded to his father.
      Les~guna nodded back.
       The god's chamber was a cube of baked brick with a narrow walk.
      wa~ around it. A door led into it from each of the cardinal directions.
      It should have been dimmer in there than outside; the chamber had
      no windows. But light streamed out from the doors: the light of the
      ,oci- Sharur shivered again.
       Enter. The word resounded inside Sharur's head, and, no doubt,
       imide Tupsharru's and Ereshguna's as well. It was as loud as the god's
       voice had been in the Street of Smiths, but not so terrifying. For one
       thlg, hn~ it was expected, as it had not been there. For another,
       ~ae Engibil was inviting, not forbidding.

    




    160
    
    bARRY TURTLE00VE
    
     Sharur stood aside so his father and brother could pr
    into the god's chamber. His heart beating fast, he followed th
     Engibil sat on a gold-sheathed chair like that of Kimash the lmri
    (after a moment, Sharur realized he had that backwards; surely the
    lugal's throne was copied from this one). The god was naked, perhaps
    because he had just had the courtesan, perhaps for no other reason
    than that it pleased him to be so. He had the form of a well,rnade
    man of about Ereshguna's age, but with all human imperfections I
    moved. Sharur got only a quick glimpse before he, like Ereshguna
    and Tupsharru, threw himself flat on the floor in front of the god.
     Rise. Again, the word filled the minds of the mortals who had come
                                         e c :ed e h Alai
                                           ern.
    
    before Engibil. Rise, Ereshguna. Rise, Sharur and Tupsharru, the som
    of Ereshguna. As the three men got to their feet, the god went on,
    now moving his lips as if he were a man, "Seek not to beseech me
    to give back your oath, Sharur son of Ereshguna. Seek not to buy
    your bride with profit that never was."
     "Great god, mighty god, god who founded this
    
                                                     city, god who
    this town," Sharur said through lips numb with fear, "that is not MY
    purpose. That is not why I have come before you. Examine my spin~
    great god. Look into my soul, mighty god. You will see I speak the
    truth. You will see I dare not lie before you."
     Engibil looked at him. Engibil looked into hi
    his mind was as easy as looking into his body. For the god, it ~vas.
    Sharur felt penetrated, as he had penetrated the Imhursaggi slave
    woman. Engibil could have learned much Sharur would not have
                                           s'
    him know. But he was searching only for the one thing and, ~hj
    he found it, he withdrew.
    "I see you speak the truth he said. "I see you dare not lie to me.
    Speak, then, of the reason you have come before me. Spea -gther,
    of your purpose. Or shall I examine your spirit once moi    all I
    look into your soul again?"              M
     "God who founded this city, I will
    
                                           't
                                           I
                              speak," Sharur said in
                                            g
    "God who made this town, I will answer." Anything to keep iesnv,
    from going through his mind as he went through clay tabi Wi
    writing on them.                   : III
     "Say on, then." Engibil folded chiseled arms across m

    




    iaa
    
    ler,
    
    me.
    'Ien,
    all I
    
   stily.
    god
    with
    
    BETWEEM TI)C RIVERS
    
    161
    
     Sharur took a deep breath. "Great god, you will know that my
    caravan brought no copper home from the Alashkurru Mountains.
    Mighty god, you will know I brought no copper ore to Gibil from the
    land of the Alashkurrut. Great god, mighty god, you will know the
    Alashkurrut would trade me no strange things, no rare things, no
    beautiful things to lay before you for your pleasure, to set on your
    altar for your delight."
     "Yes, I know this," Engibil replied. "It does not please me. The
    copper is of but small concern. The copper ore is of no great moment.
    That I fail to get my due angers me." His brows came down like
    thunder.
     Sharur's eyes flicked to one side, toward his father. Ereshguna's
    face was blank, as it would have been in a dicker with another mer-
    chant. Sharur did his best to keep his own features similarly impas,
    sive. Behind that mask, anger sparked. The god cared nothing for
    what made Gibil the city thrive. The god cared only for what pleased
    him. No wonder Kimash had sent him the courtesan.
     "Lord Engibil, I believe I know why the Alashkurrut would not
     treat with us," Sharur said. "I believe I know why the gods of the
     Alashkurrut would not let them treat with us."
     "You will tell me how this came to pass. You will tell me why this
     is so." 14
     "Great god, I will." And Sharur related what he had learned from
     Kessis and Mitas. He finished, "Mighty god, if this thing lies before
     you, we can give it back. Lord Engibil, if this thing is set on your
     altar, we can return it." He did not-he made sure he did not-think
     hout destroying it.
     Engibil's perfect features took on a look of puzzlement. "I recall no
     such object coming before me."
     "Great god, are you sure?" Sharur blurted. "Mighty god, are you
     urtain~" Only when he saw his father and brother staring at him in
     alarm did he realize that his words, if Engibil chose to construe them
     so, might be blasphemous. Who save a blasphemer could doubt any-
     thing a god said?
       Engibil, fortunately, proved more interested in the riddle than in
      the Possible affront. "I noted no great power trapped in any of the

    




    162
    
    bARRY TURTLcOove
    
    objects I received over this past year. I noted no great power trapp
    in any of the objects given to men of this city, and thus only indire
    to me, over the past year."
     "Would you have noticed it, had you not been speciall
    it?" Sharur asked, affecting not to hear the god's casual as
    of ownership over everything and everyone in Gibil. "The man wh
    traded it had no notion of what he was sending out of the
    tains."
     "A man!" Engibil's words dripped scorn. "What does a man kno
    What can a man know? A man beside a god is a mosquito,
    suck the blood of time."
     "But this is not a thing of men," Sharur reminded the god.
    Engibil said was true, but, with writing, men gained memory as secure
    and long-lasting as that of the gods. Again, Sharur did not speak
    that. instead, he continued, "This is a thing of gods. Could the go
    of the mountains not have concealed their power within it, hidin"
    that power from both men and gods?"
     Engibil frowned, not a frown of anger, but one showing Sharurh
    thought of something that had not crossed his mind. Engibil
    immensely strong. Engibil knew a great deal. All the same, a
    blasphemous thought flicked into Sharur's mind-and th
    again, as fast as he could send it away: the god was not ver)7 ~e
     I suppose it could be so," Engibil said. I did not closely exa ine
    my gifts to see if they might have this power embedded in them. Why
    would I do such a thing, when I saw no need? Now I see a neeIA
    I will closely examine my gifts. You will come with me, even i
    are only men. Come."
     He rose from his throne and set one hand on Sharur's shou
    one hand on Tupsharru's, and one hand on Ereshguna's. He
    god: if he needed an extra hand, he had one. Against Sharur's
    skin, the flesh of his hand did not feel like flesh, but like warm
    Engibil's eyes blazed. As if Sharur had looked into the sun,
                                           n
                                           ri
                                           M
    
                                           Now
                                           f V
    
                                           ulder
                                           was a
    
    moment he could see nothing but the light that poured out
    them.                                  I
     When his vision cleared, he found that his father and his brothu
    and Engibil and he were no longer in the audience chamber at
    top of the temple, but in a storeroom like the storeroom that
                                            i

    




    L9
    
    IC,
    'as
    Ily
    )Ut
    it.
    . al~-;
    q1Y
    low
    you
    
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    ,as a
    L)a r C
    'etal.
    for a
    from
    
    'Other
    at the
    made
    
    73ETWECM TbC RIVCRS
    
    163
    
    up so muc of Kimash's palace. They proved not to be alone in the
    storeroom. A priest and a courtesan-not nearly so fine a courtesan
    as had ministered to Engibil's pleasure-had been about to lie down
    together. They both squeaked in astonished dismay.
     Laughter rolled from Engibil in great waves. "Elsewhere!" he
    boomed. "Elsewhere, elsewhere." The priest and the courtesan fled.
    Sharur would have fled, too. The storeroom had a higher ceiling than
    that of the audience chamber. Here, instead of being man-sized, En-
    gibil was half again as tall and all the more awe-inspiring.
    I Despite that, Sharur's first thought, one the god luckily did not
    read, was What a lot of junk. That was not completely fair, and he
    knew it. Many of Engibil's treasures were of gold and silver and pre-
    cious stones. Those glowed in the light that poured out of the god.
    The lugals of Gibil, and the ensis before them, had given of the best
    they had.
     But they had also literally followed the dictum strange things, rare
    things, beautiful things. The beautiful things were beautiful. The rare
    things were rare: Sharur gaped to see a necklace of huge, shimmering
    pearls. Caravans to distant Laravanglat would sometimes bring back
    from the east, along with the tin that hardened copper into bronze,
    a pearl or two, having paid enormous amounts of metal to gain them.
    Pearls as large as these, so many all together, each perfectly matched
    to its neighbors-Sharur had never known nor imagined the like.
     And the strange things were ... strange. VAy any lugal would
    have chosen to give Engibil a piece of pottery shaped like a spider
    and painted with alarming realism was beyond Sharur. And the bas-
    ketwork dog standing on its hind legs to display a large erection might
    have been funny the first time someone saw it, but after that?
     Engibil said, "Where is this thing into which the gods of the Alash-
    kurrut are said to have poured their power? Do you see it? Do you
    know which of my many treasures it is?"
     "Great god, I do not know where it is," Sharur answered, looking
    to his father in consternation. "Mighty god, I do not know which of
    your many treasures it is." His eyes went now here, now there. So
    many pieces in the treasury were, or could have been, of Alashkurri
    work. he felt no special power in any of them. How could he? He
    was only a man.
    
    -t -

    




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    1).XRRY TURTLebovr=
    
     Tupsharru spoke: "Lord Engibil, now that you are among your
    treasures, can you not feel the power poured into one of them?"
     Engibil frowned again. He turned in all directions inside the trea;
    sure room, to the north, to the east, to the south, and last of all to
    the west. He reached out his hands-and in the reaching he had as
    many hands as he wanted-to the shelves and tables set against each
    wall, as if feeling of the objects set on each one. The frown deepened,
    At last, Engibil turned back toward Sharur and Tupsharru and Erl
    eshguna. "I do not know what this thing is," the god said. "I do nl'
    know where it may be. I can feel nothing of it. Son of Eresh9una,
    are you sure the Alashkurri small gods were not playing a trick
    you?"
     "I am sure," Shatur said. Seeing his father give him a doubtful look
    hurt worse than having the god disbelieve him. "I am sure," he
    peated.                                  I
     "Maybe this thing is elsewhere in the city," Engibil said, "at it
    as I told you, I sensed it nowhere. Maybe the great gods of the
    kurrut were playing tricks on their small gods."
     "Tricks are all very well, great god," Sharur said. "But, might
    if not for the reason Kessis and Mitas gave me, why have the great
    gods of Alashkurru come to hate the people of Gibil? Why have evJ
    the gods of Kudurru come to despise the people of Gibil?"
     "I have told you what I know," Engibil replied. "
    what I do not know. It is enough." He reached out
    took hold of Sharur and Ereshguna and Tupsharru by the shoulder,
    In an instant, the three men and the god were back in the audie
    chamber atop the temple. "I dismiss you," Engibil said. "Go on ab,
    r1t my Wil
    your lawful occasions, and seek no longer to circumvei i 1.
     His words beat against Sharur's mind like a windstorm. The
    merchant had all he could do to nerve himself to ask the god whe
    he might speak. When he did, Engibil's eyes burned into his
                                           0
    until he had to struggle to hold his own gaze steady. At last, gi
                                      i~ave t0im
                                      and once MM
    
    dipped his head in brusque assent. "I thank you, gre~
    gasped as the pressure of the god's will eased. "You are~fnero
    mighty god. Here is what I would ask you: have I yoL je to
    on searching for this thing of which Kessis and Mitas toldme!"
     "if 1, a god, cannot find this thing, why do you imagine that Y

    




    BETWEC19 TbC RIVERS
    
    a mortal man, will have any better fortune?" Engibil demanded. "I
    do not believe this thing even exists, no matter what the small gods
    
    of Alashkurru mav have told ,ou "
    
     "If it does not exist, my searching will do no harm," Sharur an-
    swered. "If it should exist, my searching may do some good." Was he
    contradicting the god? He did not worry about that until he had
    already spoken, by which time it was too late.
    
     If contradiction there was, Engibil, fortunately, once more failed
    to notice it. "A'hen mortals have so little time," he said, "I marvel
    
    at e ways in which they choose to fritter it away. Do what you will
    in this, son of Ereshguna. You will discover nothing, the reason beina
    
    there is nothing to discover."
    
     Sharur did a very human thing: he accepted the permission and
    ignored the scom behind it. "I thank you, great god," he said, bowing
    
    Now the fires of Engibil's eyes were banked, hooded. "I do not sav
    
    wn
    
    ibil
    arur
    
    ous,
    go
    you$
    
    are welcome," the god replied. "Be gone from my sight."

    




    i

    




    64MY son," Ereshguna said as he and Sharur made their way back
    toward their home from the temple, "my son, in some things in life
    you will win, in others you will lose. I do not think you will win in
    this. If you keep at it, you will only bring grief down upon yourself.
    If you persist, you will only break your heart."
    "Grief has already tumbled down upon me, like an avalanche in
    the mountains," Sharur answered. "The falling stones of grief have
    already broken my heart, as a pot breaks when it falls on hard ground.
    Unless I go on, my heart can never be whole again."
    "The god asked of you a fair question," Ereshguna said. "If with
    his power he cannot find this thing that may or may not exist, how
    can you hope to do so?"
    "If I cannot hope, what sort of man am V' Sharur lowered his
    voice to a wary whisper. He covered the eyes of Engibil's amulet that
    he wore on his belt. "Was it a god who learned to free copper from
    ~v, (,%No: it was a man. Was it a god who teamed to mix tin with
    copper to make bronze? No: it was a man. Was it a god who learned
    marks on clay might last longer than a man's memory? No: for gods'
    memories fail not. It was a man."
      "Power lies behind all those things," Ereshguna answered. "They
     miy yet grow gods who feed from that power."
      "~ lay it not come to pass! " Tupsharro exclaimed.
      "They may indeed grow such gods," Sharur admitted. "But they
     also may not. The power may remain in the hands of the men who
     work the metal. The power may remain in the hands of the men who
     6cribe the clay. Has this not been the hope of Giblut since the days
     the first lugal 7"
       "It has," his father said. "I would not deny it. It is my hope now,

    




    168
    
    OARRY TURTLcOove
    
    no less than it is yours. But I do not see how the power in me
    working will help you find the thing of which the Alashkurri s
    gods told ~ou. I do not sce-tiow tlie_ power in writing wAllielp ~ou
    find the thing into which Alashkurri great gods poured their power
    if such a thing there be."
     Sharur walked along for several paces before he spoke again.
    strides were angry; his sandals scuffed up dust. At last, he said, "If'
    find this thing, I can take it back to the gods of the Alashkurrut.'
    Or I can indeed break it, he thought savagely, but he did not speak
    air
    that thought aloud. Ereshguna no doubt knew it was in his r
    I do not find it, how shall I find the bride-price for Ningal? Engibi
    holds my oath in his hand. He holds my oath in his heart. He wi
    not let it go. If he does not let it go, I cannot buy the bride I Jes
    Dimgalabzu has given me a year, no more. Time is passing. Tt1w IS
    fleeting. I must find the thing."
     "Many a man comes to grief, forgetting the difference
    must and shall," Ereshguna answered. "That you want to
    thing-if thing there be, as I say-that you need to find it,
    can doubt. That you shall find it-if it be there for the finding-you
    cannot know."
     "Your words hold truth, Father, as they always do," Sharur said,
    "But this I know, and know in fullness: if I search not for this thing,
    whatever it may be, I shall not find it. Therefore I will search, come
    what may."
     Ereshguna's breath hissed out of him in a long sigh. "If you ~1 n"
    heed the god, perhaps you will heed your father. Son of my flesh, I te
    you this is not a wise course. Son of my heart, I tell you this way he
    break lies. I do not believe you will find the thing you seek. A m
    who turns aside from the road to chase a mirage is never seen again,,
     "A man who walks past an oasis, thinking it a mirage, dies of thi
    in the desert," Sharur replied. "If I do not wed Ningal, I know
    heart shall break within me. If I search for the thing and fail to 6
    it, perhaps my heart shall break and perhaps it shall not. If I se
    for the thing and do find it, of a certainty my heart shall notbre
    You are a merchant, Father. Which of those strikes you as 4e
    bargain?"
      "Bargains are for copper. Bargains are for tin. Bargains are for

    




    'en
    his
    
    :)ne
    you
    
    ,aid.
    ling,
    on'le
    
    not
     tell
    
   -Leart-
    man
   ,ain.
    thirst
    )w my
    to find
    search
    break.
    ae best
    
    730TWEEM TbC RIVERS
    
    169
    
Iley. Bargains are for wine of dates," Ereshguna said. "For my son's
      happiness, for my son's safety, I do not speak of bargains. I care noth-
      ing about bargains. With some things, a man should not bargain."
      "For your son's happiness," Sharur repeated. "Unless I do this, I
      shall not be happy. This I know. If I do it, I may be unhappy. I know
      this, too. I am a man. I may fail. Even gods fail. But I will try. I must
      try. What have I to lose?"
       "Your life, my brother!" Tupsharro, blurted.
      Ereshguna walked on for several more steps. At last, he said, "Tup-
      sharro is right. If you hold to this course, it could even be that you
      will lose your life."
      Before Sharur could reply, his grandfather's ghost spoke up:
      "Sooner or later, this is the fate of all men."
      Ereshguna looked exasperated. "Ghost of my father, how long have
      you been listening to US7"
      "Oh, not long," the ghost replied in airy tones. "I was just coming
      up the street and saw the three of you coming down, looking glum
      as if your favorite puppy just died. If you want to talk about death,
      you should talk with someone who knows what he's talking about."
      "When a man rich in years dies, he will be a ghost rich in years,
      too," Ereshguna said, "for his grandchildren will recall him well, and
      he will be able to speak with them even when they grow old them-
      selves, and will not sink down to the underworld to be forgotten by
      mortals until they die. But when a young man passes away, his stay
      as a ghost is also cut short, for only those of his age or older could
      know him while he lived on earth."
      Sharur's grandfather's ghost sniffed. "The real trouble is, some peo-
      ple don't care to listen." Sharur could not see the ghost, but got the
      1stinct impression that it indignantly flounced off.
      His father said, "I meant my words. You play no game here. If you
      seek a track where the god says there is no track, if you go on where
       the god bids you halt, you put yourself in danger. It may be that you
       put yourself in such danger, no mortal man may escape it."
       "I will go on," Sharur said. Maybe the shadows from the harsh sun
       above carved the lines in Ereshguna's face deeper than Sharur had
       ever seen them before, or maybe, for the first time, his father looked

    




    170
    
    bz,RRy -ruRTLe0ove
    
    Inadapa, the steward to Kimash the lugal, drank a polite cup of bee
    before getting to the business that had brought him to the Street C
    Smiths: "The mighty lugal would speak with the son of Ereshgun
    over what passed in the temple of Engibil yesterday."
     Sharur drained his own cup of beer and rose from the stool 61
    which he sat. "I will gladly speak with Kimash. I will gladly tell hir
    what passed in the temple of Engibil yesterday."
     "The mighty lugal will be glad to learn once more how readily yi
    obey him," Inadapa said. "Let us go."
    
     "I obey him as I would obey the god," Sharur said. He bowed
    Ereshguna. "My father, I shall soon see you again."
     "And I shall soon see you again," Ereshguna replied, returning
    bow. His face was calm now, but Sharur could hear the worry in his
    voice, though he did not think Inadapa could. Sharur understood why
    his father sounded worried. He obeyed Engibil only grudgingly, under
    the compulsion of the god's superior strength. Such grudging, p
    obedience, if given to Kimash, would be less than the lugal w
     "Let us go," Inadapa repeated; like any good servant, he w
    patient in the service of his master.
     Pausing only to put on his hat, Sharur walked with th~ lual
    steward along f1rie Street of Smiffis to tlie palace. Xsllad 11appe
    when he went to the palace with his father, he had to wait whi
    stream of donkeys and slaves carrying bricks and mortar
    path. "The mighty lugal adds to his own glory," he rem
    how Inadapa would respond.
     As usual, the steward's face was bland. "The lugal's
    glory of Gibil," he replied, and now he seemed to wait
    answer.
      In most cities of Kudurru, a man would have said, The
                                         9
    is the glory of my city. Men still did say that in Gibil, but ho"~ as
                                        blocke
                                        arked, t
    
                                        glory A tb
                                        f A
    
                                           M
    of. them meant it? If Kimash could go on building for himself ev
    while Engibil sought to reassert his own power, the lugal must
    thought his hold on the rule fairly secure.
     Sharur said, "May the lugal's glory prevail." Inadapa weFghe
    words, as Sharur would have weighed gold brought in by a debt'

    




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    171
    
      Tevmus.-Iave rought down the pan of his mental balance, for he
    i nodded once, in sharp satisfaction, and set no more word-lined traps
      for the master merchant's son.
      As soon as the donkeys and slaves had passed, Inadapa led Sharur
      ~6ough the maze of hallways, past the endless storerooms and work-
      of the palace, to the audience chamber of Kimash the lugal.
     As Kimash had before, he sat on his high seat. As Sharur had before,
     he Joveled in front of that high seat, lying with his face in the dust
     until the lugal bade him rise.
      I come in obedience to your summons, mighty lugal," he said,
brushing dirt from his kilt.
        you do," Kimash agreed. He had the arrogance of a god, if
        not th nherent powers. "Speak to me of your journey to Imhursag,
        to the land of our enemies." Sharur told that tale, and also the tale
        of his visit to Engibil's temple. Leaning forward on his high seat,
        Kinidsh asked, "And did Engibil find this secret thing of which you
        spoke, this thing into which the great gods of the Alashkurrut poured
        their power?"
     Regretfully, Sharur spoke the truth: "Mighty lugal, he did not. He
    found himself unable to tell it from any other offering he has received.
    He is of the opinion that the thing does not exist."
     Kimash might not have had the inherent powers of a god, but he
    did own sharp ears and sharp wits. "He is of that opinion, you say.
    What of you, son of Ereshguna? Do you hold a different opinion?"
     I do, mighty lugal," Sharur answered. I believed then, and I still
    believe now, that the Alashkurri gods intended no one to know this
    thing for what it was. The wanax or merchant who traded it to us
    knew it not, the trader who took it knew it not, and I think the god
    of the city also knows it not. But when will a god admit to ignorance?
    When will a god say he does not know?"
     Kimash's chuckle was harsh as windblown sand. "When will a man
    admit to ignorance?" he returned. "Alen will a man say he does not
    know? Truly we are shaped in the image of those who made us; is it
    not so? Why do you believe your own thoughts, not those of the god,
    who knows so much more than you?"
    As he would have done in a hard bargain, Sharur worked to hold
    is face still. V./hat he concealed now was not the lowest price he

    




    172
    
    bARRY TURTLebove
    
           would accept but dismay. Of all the men in Gibil, he had udgd
      Kimash likeliest to believe him, likeliest to support him. Instea6, the
    
     Carefully, Sharur said, "Mighty lugal, as I answered be ore
                                        f'
    Ieep
    secret thing. Gods may keep secrets from gods. Even men ma~
    secrets from gods, provided always the gods do not know sec s are
    
    "Speak not of this, son of Ereshguna, lest a certain
    
     Sharur bowed his head. I obey." Of all the men in Gibil, tikey
    of all the men in Kudurru, perhaps of all the men in the world, the,~
    lugal kept the most secrets of that sort from the gods.
     "Has your judgment not another reason?" Kimash asked."Has yobr
    opinion not another source? The Diyala rises from many springs. The
    Yarmuk flows out of many streams. Do you not believe that, if A
    
    thing of which you speak exists, you will gain profit and favor n6t,
    only from Engibil but also from the gods of the Alashkuffut? Do Y',
    not believe that, if this thing into which the gods of the mouni
    have poured their powers is real, you w"Yes, I believe those things." Sharur bowed his head again. "Y
                                          u wol
    are able to see deep into the heart of a man, mighty lugal; yo ut
    
    have made a formidable merchant." On his high seat, Kimash
    preened like a songbird displaying himself before a possible mate. But
    Sharur went on, I do not believe this has clouded my judgment.
    do not believe this has shaped my opinion. My views spring fro
    
    what I have seen and heard not from what I have hot)ed."
    
     Kimash's frown was nearly as formidable as Engibil's. "There yott
    make a claim not even the gods could make in truth. VAat mo~l
    
    views do not spring from what he hopes and believes?"
     "The views of a man who follows truth," Sharur replie
    
     "Ah. Truth. But there is truth, and then there is truth. Remember
    the onion, son of Ereshguna." Now the lugal, who had seen as much
    of human frailty and as much of human desire as any man ever bom,
    seemed almost amused. "From which layer of truth do your views
    spring? Is it not also truth that you wish to lie down in love With

    




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    173
    
    "Yes, that is a truth." Sharur admitted what he could hardly deny.
    "Does not this truth color your view of other truths, as a man with
    an eye full of blood will see things red?" Kimash asked.
     1t ... may," Sharur said reluctantly. He had always know the lugal
    was a formidable man, but never till now had all Kimash's strength
    Of purpose been aimed at him and him alone. He felt very alone
    indeed.
     "Ah," Kimash repeated. "It is good to hear you say so much.
    Many would be too blind to their own failings to reckon that they
    had any. Well, here is what I say to you in return, son of Eresh-
    guna. I say, give over your talk of secret things. I say, give over
    your dream of magic-filled things. I say, accept the world as you
    find it is here. I will reward you for your service to the city. I will
    repay you for your braving the city of the Imhursagut. Engibil has
    shown you that you may not have for your wife the daughter of
    Dimgalabzu. Choose any other woman in Gibil, son of Ereshguna,
    even if it be one of my own daughters, and not only shall you wed
    her, but the bride-price for her shall come from the treasury of the
    lugal. I have spoken, and it shall be as I say."
     "Mighty lugal, you are kind," Sharur said. "Mighty lugal, you are
    generous."
     "All these things are true," Kimash said complacently. If the gods
    were not immune to flattery, how could a mere man escape its
    charms? The lugal went on, "Then you will obey me, and give over
    your foolish search for a thing that is not and cannot be."
     "Mighty lugal, I-" Sharur hesitated. Kimash, he realized, was also
     anything but immune to the problem of there being more than one
     possible layer to the truth. The lugal was astute enough to see that
     in others, but not in himself One of his principal aims was to keep
     Engibil quiet and satisfied. Disagreeing with Engibil once the god had
     ,iaid he could sense no object into which the great gods of the Alash-
      Unt had poured their power would only stir him up and anger him.
     Uierefore, Engibil had to be right and Sharur wrong. What Kimash
      wanted to lie true influenced what Kimash believed to be true. But
 did it' fluence what was true?
         n you will obey me," the fugal repeated, his voice now going
         d harsh. His eyes glittered. He was not, and made it very

    




    174
    
    b,XRRY TURTLcOove
    
    plain he was not, a man whom Sharur would have been wise
    challenge.
     "Mighty lugal, I-" The words stuck in Sharur's throat. Had h
    said them all, he would have put Ningal aside forever. He could
    bear to do that. Instead of speaking, he bowed his head. Even if it
    was not, that looked like acquiescence. Did Kimash so choose, he
    could take it for acquiescence.
     He did so choose. "Son of Ereshguna, it is good," he said, con,
    tented once more now that he thought he was being obeyed-even
    as Engibil was contented when he thought he was being obeyed,
    regardless of where the truth really lay. Smiling, he went on, "I
    not so, after all, that in the dark one woman is the same as the
     Sharur did not answer. He thought back to the Imhursaggi
    woman with whom he had lain after coming back from the mou
    of Alashkurru. She had not been the same from one round t
    next: fire when she reckoned she was serving the gods, ice m7
    ministering to Sharur's lusts alone. That being so, how could Kim h
    presume to say another woman might-no, another woman wo~ld-
    satisfy Sharur as well as Ningal?
     Kimash was the lugal. He could say what he pleased. Who in 6jibil
    would presume to tell him he was wrong?
     Again, he took Sharur's silence for agreement. "I thank yo6 for
    your labor on my behalf and on behalf of the city of Gibil, son Pf
    Ereshguna. As I said, I shall reward you. You have but to choose, and
    the woman you desire shall be yours, even unto one of my own dauo-
    ters. Go now, and speak to me again when you have madf
    choice. I await your return."         A
     "The mighty lugal is generous. The mighty lugal is kind." Sharur
    bowed once more. Generous indeed, to give me anything except what],
    truly want.
     "The house of Ereshguna is mighty in my aid," Kimash sai
    generously. He clapped his hands. "Inadapa!" The steward, who
    gone, reappeared as if by magic. "Inadapa, conduct the son of Ere6
    guna to his home once more."               -
     "Mighty lugal, I obey," Inadapa said. Of course
    Sharur thought. What eke is he good for? The steward tu 0
    "Son of Ereshguna, I will conduct you to your home once more."

    




    BeTwee" Tbe RIVERS
    
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     Shatur's eyes filled with sudden tears when he stepped from the
    gloom of the palace out into bright sunshine once more. He said,
    "You need not come home with me, steward to the lugal. Believe
    me, I know the way."
     "Very well," Inadapa said, rather to Sharur's surprise: he had
    thought the steward would obey Kimash's instructions in all partic-
    ulars, simply because it was the lugal who had given them. Seeing
    Shatur startled, Inadapa explained, "The mighty lugal gives his ser-
    vitors many duties. The gods, however, give them only so much time
    in which to do those duties."
     "Ah," Sharur said; that did indeed make sense. "Go back to your
    duties, then, Inadapa." But the steward had already gone.
    
     Up the Street of Smiths Sharur trudged. Every step seemed harder
    than the one before, as if he were walking uphill, though the Street
    of Smiths lay on ground as level as any in Gibil. His father had told
    him to accept the word of the god. Kimash the lugal not only had
    told him to accept the word of the god but had sought to sweeten
    that with the promise of whatever woman in Gibil he wanted (save
    one woman only) and her bride-price as well.
     Believe the god. Listen to the god. Sharur kicked at the dirt as he
    walked along. Gods could err, just as men could. Enimhursag had
    slain a Zuabi-the wrong Zuabi-at the inn where Sharur stayed,
    thinking he was slaying a spy. Engibil could miss magic that was
    meant to the missed.
     Or Engibil might simply lie, although Sharur could see no reason
    why he would.
     But Sharur seemed to be the only one who considered those pos-
    sibilities, He thought he understood Kimash's reasons for neglecting
    them, just as Kimash thought he understood Sharur's reasons for be-
    lieving them. Ereshguna? Well, Sharur's father had heard Engibil; he
    had not heard Mitas and Kessis. Sharur was the only one who had
    bend them, and what was his own word worth, against that of En-
    
    "No one believes me," he muttered, and scuffed along with his

    




    176
    
    bZ,RRY TURTLeOove
    
    He did not see the fever demon perched on a wall, not till too late.
    Batwings flapping furiously, the demon flew into his face. Its foul
    breath filled his mouth. He staggered back in horror and dismay. Only
    too late did he reach for the amulet with Engibil's eyes he wore on
    his belt. Only too late did he drive the demon from him with the
    amulet. The demon fled, screeching, but triumphant laughter filled
    the screeches. The demon knew it had sickened him.
     He knew it, too. His steps, already laggard, slowed still further
    the time he reached his father's house, he was staggering. Ereshguna
    was dickering with a smith. On seeing Sharur, he broke off in alarm,
    "My son!" he exclaimed. "What has happened to you?" -
     "Fever demon." Sharur got the words out through chattering teeth.
    Even in the heat "Have to be careful of those demons," the smith said, clicking his
                                       much good
                                       advice, it came too late to do any good.
     Ereshguna shouted for his slaves. Two men and the Imhu
    woman with whom Sharur had lain came running at his summons.
    "Put Sharur on blankets," he told them. "Put wet cloths on his head.
    A fever demon has breathed into his mouth." The men helped sup,
    port Sharur, who was wobbling on his feet, as he went into the c
    yard and lay down in the shade of the southern wall.   1~;
     "Fetch blankets, as the master said," one of the men told the other.
    "He should not lie on the naked ground." The second slave nodded
    and hurried off. So did the slave woman.
     He came back, blankets in his arm, along with the woman, who
    carried rags and a pot of water. The two men raised Sharur, first at
    the shoulders, then at the hips, so they could get the blankets under
    him. "Is that not better, master's son?" one of them asked, ith a
    slave's solicitude, sticky as honey.
    
    tongue between his teeth. It was good advice. Like so
    
                                          I J1 I"
    
     "Better," he said vaguely. His wits were already wandering. He told
    himself over and over he was a fool for not having seen the fever
    demon sooner. A man could die of the sickness a demon breathed
    into him. Regardless of how often he repeated them, no thoughts
    wanted to stay in his mind. He drifted from thinking he was a fool
    for not having seen the fever demon to thinking he was a fool for
    believing Kessis and Mitas to thinking he was a fool for not havin.,

    




    r
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    BETWCEM TbC RIVC-IZS
    
    177
    
    gladly accepted Kimash's offer of one of his daughters and bride-price
    to boot to thinking he was a foot for worrying about women, consid-
    ering how he felt.
     Through it all, the one thing that did not change was that he
    thought himself a fool.
     The lmhursaggi slave woman dropped a rag into the pot of water,
    then wrung it out and set it on his forehead. "It is cool," she said in
    her quiet voice. "It will help make you cool."
     "I thank you," Sharur said. For a little while, when the damp linen
    first touched him, the demon's fever fled, and he was himself again,
    or someone close to himself. But the fever was stronger than a cold
    compress. It quickly came back, and his wits went their own way
    once more.
     "Will you watch him?" one of the men asked the woman. "Will
    you tend to him?"
     "I will watch him," she answered. "I will tend to him. It is easier
    work than most they might give me." The men went away. The
    woman soaked another compress, wrung it out, and set it on Sharur's
    forehead to replace the one that the heat of the day and the heat of
    his fever had dried. Her hands were cool and damp and deft. He
    noticed-as much as he noticed anything then. She sat beside him,
    humming a hymn to Enimhursag.
     Somehow, he recognized it for what it was. Had his mind been
     Ely under the control of his will, he would have known Enimhursag
     had no power here, not in the heart of the city of the god who was
     his rival. But he did not think of that. He had forgotten where he
     was. He thought of Enimhursag, and of Enimhursag's hunt for him.
     He thought Enimhursag was hunting him again, or perhaps that En-
     imhursag had never stopped hunting him.
      He moaned and writhed on the blankets. The wet rag fell off onto
     the ground beside him. The Imhursaggi slave stopped humming. "Lie
     easy," she said, and put the compress back on his head. And, because
     he no longer heard the hymn, he did lie easy for a bit. But, seeing
     1iiM relax, the Imhursaggi woman also relaxed, and began to hum
     once more. That brought fear flooding back, as melting mountain
     snow brought the Yarmuk's flood every spring.
       Before long, though, his mother and his sister came out into the

    




    178          bARRY TURTLCOOVC
    
    courtyard, both of them exclaiming over him. They dismissed
    slave woman and took over caring for him themselves. "There- I
    you see?" Betsilim said triumphantly to Nanadirat. "He is better al-
    ready."
     His sister set a hand on his forehead. "He is still hot as a smeltin,.,
    fire," she said, worry in her voice.
                                            "his
     "The demon only just now breathed its fout breath into him,
    mother answered, sounding as if she was trying to reassure herself and
    Nanadirat both. "He will mend."
     "He had better." Nanadirat stared fiercely down at Sharur. "I'111i
    so angry at him. How could he not spy a fever demon waiting
    pounce?"
     Betsilim wrung out a new compress and started to put it on Sharur,
    but he tried to roll away from her. "No, no," she said, as she had
    when he was very small. "You have to hold still. You have to rest."
     He heard her and Nanadirat as if from very far away. Everythi
    seemed very far away, his own body very much included. He ha
    quieted for a moment when his mother and sister replaced the slave
    woman, but not because he preferred their touch to hers, only be,
    cause he no longer heard her humming the hymn to Enimhursag.
    tried to explain that to them, but forgot what he was going
    before the words could pass his -lips.
     His spirit drifted away from his body, almost as if he had
    a ghost while still living. He wondered if ghosts were as co
    he was, then wondered what he had been wondering about, and th
    wondered if he had been wondering.       i
     Huzziyas the wanax raised a cup to toast his health. An army of
                                         becotne
                                         nfused as
    
    spearmen and donkey-drawn chariots drove another, identically
    equipped, army back against a canal, trapping it. Some men shouted
    Engibil's name. Some shouted Enimhursag's. Which were which? He
    could not tell. The army trapped against the canal broke like a shat
    tered cup.
     Ningal's face drifted over him like a full moon.
    
                                    He reached up ~O
    touch it and it broke like a shattered cup. He started to cry. Suddenly
    without warning, everything went white. I am dead, he thought. il~
    fever has slain me. Now I am a ghost, as my grandfather is. I will hunt
    down that fever demon and pull off its wings. How it will wail!I

    




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     He heard it wailing already, though he had not yet begun the hunt.
    Then he heard a woman's voice-Ningal's? No, it was another's. "Fix
    that compress, Mother," Nanadirat said. "I don't think he wants it
    to cover his eyes. Did you hear him moan?"
     "I heard him," Betsilim said, "The fever has sent him out of his
    head. But maybe you are right." Color and shapes-swirling, floating
    shapes with no plain meaning-filled Sharur's vision once more.
    Maybe he wasn't dead after all. The demon would escape, to sicken
    other people.
     "How is he?" a man's voice asked. Huzziyas the wanax? Kimash
    the lugal? Engibil the god? Whoever it was, his voice sounded very
    much like that of Sharur's brother Tupsharru. But Tupsharru. was not
    in the mountains of Alashkurru, was he? Sharur knew he was in the
    mountains, in the snowy mountains. How else could he have been
    so cold?
     After a while, it started raining on him. So he thought at first, at
    any rate. Then he wondered whether the gods were angry at him or
    pleased with him, for it was raining beer. The gods talked among
    themselves. "Sit him up a little more, can't you? It's spilling all over
    him," a goddess said.
     "I'm sorry," a god answered. "Here, try again." More rain or beer
    or whatever it was spilled on Sharur's face and chest.
      "You have to drink, Sharur," another goddess said.
     Dimly, he wondered why the gods had voices so much like those
    of his mother and sister and brother. They were gods, though. They
    could do as they pleased. And if they ordered him to drink, he could
    only obey. Drink he did, even if he choked a little doing it.
      "There, that's better," the goddess who sounded like his sister said.
      He had pleased the gods. He took that thought with him as he
     spiraled down into the dark.
    
    When Sharur woke, he wondered for a moment whether the mud
    bricks of the house in which he had lived his whole life had finally
    - fallen down. More to the point, he wondered if they had fallen down
    12 on him. He certainly felt as if something large and heavy had col-
    -1 lapsed on him.

    




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    bARRY TURTLeOove
    
     Raising his head took all the strength he had. Sitting not far awiy
    from him was his father. "Sharur?" Ereshguna said softly. "My S04"
     "Yes," Sharur said-or rather, that was what he tried to say. 04y
    a harsh, wordless croak passed his lips. Trying to speak made him feel
    how weak he was. Even holding his eyelids open took an effort.
     But the croak seemed to satisfy his father. "You understand me!'I
    Ereshguna exclaimed.
     "Yes," Sharur said. This time, it was a recognizable word. Sh
    noticed his mouth tasted as if someone had spilled a chamberpot into
    it. He lay back down flat; holding his head up seemed more trouble
    than it was worth. Those few moments of it were making him pant
    as if he had run all the way from Imhursag to Gibil.
     Ereshguna ran: out of the courtyard and into the house,
    "Sharur has his wits about him again!"
     Then he came running back to Sharur, followed closely by Tip,
    sharru and Betsilim and Nanadirat, with the house slaves a little
    farther behind. His family hugged him and kissed him and made
    much of him. He lay there and accepted it; he had not the strength
    to do anything but lie there and accept it. His mother and sister I~Oth
    let tears stream down their cheeks. A little at a time, he realized he
    must have come very close to dying.
     "I'm all right," he whispered. '
     "You're no such thing," his mother said indignantly. "Don't ta
    nonsense. Look at you." He couldn't look at himself-, that would ha,~
    meant lifting his head again, which was beyond him. But Betsilim
    was doing the looking for him: "You're nothing but skin stret
    over bones. I've seen starving beggars with more flesh on them.
     He tried to shrug. Even that wasn't easy. Nanadirat asked, "I we
    give you bread and beer, can you chew and swallow?"
     "I think so," he answered. "It was raining beer on me not so long
    ago. The gods made it rain beer on me not so long ago. I remember."
    He felt proud of remembering anything.
     His mother and brother and sister seemed less impressed. With a -
    distinct sniff in her voice, Nanadirat said, "That wasn't the go&
    That was us. And it wouldn't have been raining beer on you if
    drunk it the way you were supposed to."
    
    "Oh," he said, feeling foolish. "I suppose a lot of the things t in

    




    73ETWCEM Tj)C RIVCRS
    
    181
    
      happened didn't really, then. Huzziyas the wanax didn't come here
      to drink my health, did he? He raised the cup, and . . ."
      Betsilim and Nanadirat were looking at each other. He recognized
     their expressions: they were trying not to laugh, and not succeeding
     ~ery well. Betsilim said, "My son, I am surprised you remember any-
     thing at all of the past five days, even if you remember things that
     are not so!'
      "Five ... days?" Sharur said slowly. "Was I out of my head for five
     days! It's a wonder my spirit found its way back to my body."
      "We think so, too," Betsilim said, and started to cry again. Nan-
     adirat put an arm around her mother's shoulder.
     The Imhursaggi slave woman, who had gone into the house, came
    out once more carrying a tray. "Here is bread," she said. "Here is
    beer." She set the tray on the ground in front of Betsilim.
     Tupsharru came up and supported Sharur in a half-sitting position.
    A god with his voice had done that while Sharur lay sick. No. Sharur
    laughed at himself That had been-that must have been-his wits
    wandering again.
     He looked down at himself, now that he could. He had indeed lost
    flesh, although he was not so thin as his mother made him out to be.
    Nanadirat held a cup up to his mouth. He took a sip of sour beer,
    then swallowed. That felt wonderful, like rain for a flower after a long
    dry spell.
     But Nanadirat did not merely want to rain on him, to make him
    bloom. By the way she tried to pour beer into him, she wanted to
    good him. Like a canal that had fallen into disrepair, he could not
    take in as much as she wanted to give him. To keep himself from
    drowning, he raised his arm. That did more than he had intended:
    not only did it stop her from giving him the beer, it knocked the cup
    from her hand. The cup flew against the wall that shaded him and
    shattered.
     "Maybe he has not got his wits about him after all," Tupsharru
    said. But he sounded more amused than annoyed.
    "I'm sorry," Sharur said, feeling very foolish as he stared at the
    shards of the broken cup. He rememberedBut no, that had surely
    been nonsense, too.
    "You need not be sorry," Betsilim said. "Your sister tried to give
    
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    182
    
    1)&RRY TURTLeOove
    
    you too much too fast." She turned to the slave woman. "Fetch an,
    other cup."
     "I obey," the slave said, as she had when Sharur ordered her to lie
    with him. She hurried back into the house.
     "Bread, please?" Sharur said.
     Betsilim tore off a piece of bread from the loaf that sat on the tray.
    Sharur reached out to take it. Instead of handing it to him, his mother
    put it straight into his mouth, as if he were a baby. Had he felt a
    little stronger, that might have made him angry. As things were,
    chewed and swallowed without complaint. "Is it good?" his mothe
    asked, again as she rr ight have done when he was very small.
     He nodded. "More?" he said hopefully, and Betsilim fed him again.
     The Imhursaggi slave woman came out with a new cup to replace
    the one Sharur had broken. Nanadirat filled it with the dipper and
    offered it to him. This time, he drank without spilling any. It made
    him feel very strong. "Another cup?" he said.
     "Yes, but this will be your last for now," his sister said. "Too much
    all at once after too long without much will make you sick again."
     "I know how we'll be able to tell when he's truly better," Tupsharru
    said, mischief in his voice.
     Betsilim was so glad for the words, she did not hear the
    "How?" she asked.
     Tupsharru. grinned. "When he wants the slave woman, not brea
    and beer."
     Betsilim and Nanadirat both made faces at him. The slave woman
    looked down at the ground, no expression at all on her face. Sharur
    watched the byplay without caring much about it. He recalled desirej
    but it was the last thing on his mind.
     He yawned. Maybe the beer was making him sleepy. Maybe it ix,as
    nothing but his own weakness. "Let me down," he said to Tupsharru.
    He yawned again as his brother eased him to the blanket. He thought
    he stayed awake long enough for his head to touch it, but was never
    quite sure afterwards.
     His sleep, this time, was deep and restful, with none of the fever
    dreams and visions that had troubled his illness. He woke in darkness,
    only pale moonlight illuminating the courtyard. He felt stronger,
    
    W",

    




    13ETWECM TbC RIVERS
    
    er
    
    183
    
    Without even thinking about it, he sat up by himself That proved
    he was stronger.
     He got to his feet. He wobbled a little, but had no trouble staying
    upright. A chamberpot sat on the ground not far from where he'd
    lain. He walked over and made water into it, then lay back down on
    the blanket. He hoped sleep would come again for him, but it did
    not. Mosquitoes buzzed. One landed on his chest; he felt it walking
    through the hair there. He slapped at it, and hoped held killed it.
     His grandfather's ghost spoke in his ear: "You are like an owl,
    awake while others sleep. You are like a cat, prowling through the
    night."
     "Hardly prowling," Sharur said with a low-voiced laugh. More of-
    ten than not, his grandfather's ghost was a nuisance, bothering him
    when he would sooner have paid it no attention. Now, for once, he
    was glad of its company. Still speaking quietly, he went on, "I greet
    you. Is it well with you?"
     "As well as it can be," the ghost answered. "I have only the mem-
    ory of bread. I have only the memory of beer. I have only the memory
    of desire."
     Sharur remembered what Tupsharru had said. "As things are right
    now, I also have only the memory of desire."
     The laughter that came from his grandfather's ghost held a bitter
    e6ge. "You know not what you say. Soon enough, you will bum like
    a furnace again, and you will tip up the legs of that slave or give a
    courtesan copper to suck your prong. I have only the memory, not
    the thing itself I shall never have it, never again."
     "And even if I slake my lust, what will it mean?" Sharur asked, in
    his weakness after being ill matching the ghost's self-pity. "I shall not
     have the one woman I truly want."
      "Having any woman is better than having no woman at all." His
     grandfather's ghost was not about to be outdone. "Having thin beer
     is better than having no beer at all. Having moldy bread is better
     than having no bread at all."
      "You have the essence of beer. You have the essence of the bread,"
     Sharur reminded him.
      "It is not the same." The ghost's sigh was like the breeze blowing

    




    184
    
    I)a,P,P,y -ruR-rLc=Oove
    
    through the branches of a dead bush. "And you say nothing about
    the essence of a wbman. Tell me, where shall I find
    woman?"
    
                                      4he essence of a"
    
     "That I do not know." Sharur smiled in thei-MEMs. "Were there
    such a thing, many living men would seek it: I doIllow that."
     "And the house of Ereshguna would sell it. The _TI*%e of Ereshguna
    would profit from it. I know my son." The ghost of Sharur's grand-
    father spoke with a sort of melancholy pride. Then it mid, I am g
    you remain among those with flesh on their bones. Vfihen your spirit
    ran free of your body, I feared you would join me *19ere among the
    ghosts for some little while, and then drift down into ihe.underworld,
    into the realm of the forgotten."
     On the blanket, Sharur shivered, though the siL4t was not col
    and though he was not feverish. "Truly I had a spitiow escape from
    death because of the foul breath of the fever demon, " he said. i'll,
     "Truly you had a narrow escape from death," Ms grandfather's
    ghost agreed. "But while your spirit wandered, you *,w more widelY
    flesh,
    ul
    Sharur said. "Some of it, I suppose, might have been -iQal. Some wou 'd
    have been the real, transmuted by fever. And some, wrely, was noth,
    ing but fever."
     "Ah, but which was which?" His grandfather's
    tone Shatur had sometimes heard from his father MilMn he had mer,
    looked something. "Which was real, and which the !ever drearri~"
     "You sound as if you know the answer," Sharur *iid. "Tell me.'!I
     "The question is the essence, not the answer. I twi a ghost. I a~
    a thing of essences." Sharur's grandfather's ghost iq ed again. "But
    not the essence of a woman. Find a way to boil off 4--ie essence of a
    woman and the ghosts of men would give you ,4=7er you want
    for it."
     "They would give the essence of gold, no AIMICR" Shatur said,~
    "Mortals are not things of essences. Tell me: I ask it of you again- ,
    which was real, and which the fever dream?"
     "The question is the essence, not the answer," 117-s grandfat~e
    ghost
     Sharur had not known the ghost was there until it ipoke. He cou
    
    than you have while still wearing flesh."
     "I saw more confusedly than I could while still wearing
    
            Z ~
    x4ost used a,940
    
    repeated "And now I shall go "

    




    BETWeem TDC RIVERS
    
    not have proved it was gone now. Was it mocking him, or had it
    tried to tell him something important? Before he could decide, he
    fell asleep again.
    
    id.
    
    Uld
    
    Slowly, Sharur recovered from the sickness the fever demon had
    breathed into him. His strength came back, little by little; he ate
    bread and salt fish and drank beer to restore the flesh of which the
    fever demon had robbed him. One day, he noticed that, when the
    lmhursaggi slave woman brought him food and drink, he was eyeing
    her body. She noticed, too, and departed as quickly as she could. He
    thought about ordering her back, but in the end did not bother.
    Though desire had returned, it was not so urgent as to make him
    want to lie with her.
     A few days after that, he left his home and went out into Gibil
    once more. His steps were slow and halting, so slow and halting as
    to make him realize that, while he had regained much strength, he
    was still a long way from having regained it all.
     He bought beans fried in fat from a man who cooked them over a
    brazier set up on a small table he would carry from place to place.
    The fellow handed them to him in a twist of date-palm leaf. Eating
    gave Sharur an excuse to stand still and rest. His weakness angered
    him, but he could do nothing about it.
     People and beasts of burden surged past him. He smiled to watch
    a couple of little naked farm boys with long switches chivvying ducks
    along toward the market square. The ducks fussed and complained,
    but kept on moving. Some of them, the lucky ones, might be kept
    for egg layers. The rest would soon be seethed or roasted. Though
    few foreigners came to Gibil these days, the'Giblut still traded busily
    among themselves.
     Sharur had almost finished his beans when a small, thin fellow
     came up to the man who prepared them and said, "Let me have some
     of those, if you please." He opened his right hand to display several
     broken bits of copper. The cook held out his own hand. He took the
     copper bits, hefted them, nodded in satisfaction, and gave the new-
     comer a ladleful of beans in a leaf. The fellow beamed at him. "Thank
     you, friend. These'll fill the hole in my belly."

    




    186
    
    DARRY TURTLeOove
    
     He spoke with a Zuabi accent. At first, that was all Sharur noticed
    about him, for it stood out these days. Then he took a longer look
    at the fellow. "I know you!" he exclaimed.
     "No, my master, I fear you are mis-" The Zuabi stopped. His ey(i
    went wide and round in his narrow, clever face. He bowed very low.:
    "No, my master, I am the one who is mistaken. It is an honor to
    you again."
     "Come. Walk with me." Sharur ate the last of his beans, threw
    the date-palm leaf on the ground, licked his fingers clean, and wiped
    them on his kilt. "Tell me how you come to be in Gibil, when we
    last met outside Zuabu."
     "As you might guess, my calling brings me here, replied the man
    who had tried to rob Sharur's caravan as it returned from the Alash-
    kurru Mountains. He popped a handful of fried beans into his mouth,
     "Yes, I might have guessed that," Sharur agreed. "And what,
    you would be so kind as to tell me one thing more, have you co
    to Gibil to steal?"                      I
     "I should not tell you what I have come to Gibil to steal," the
    Zuabi thief said, "for Enzuabu commanded me to come to Gibil
    steal it."
     Sharur walked along without saying anything. He knew' ag
    thief knew, the Zuabi would not have been able to steal anythinn;
    Gibil without the mercy Sharur had shown, and without Sharu
    letting him steal a token bit of jewelry to placa
     "I will tell you my name," the thief said. "I
    
    te his god.
    am called Habbazu.,"
    
    "I will tell you my name," Sharur returned. "I am called Sharur."
    They bowed to each other. Habbazu said, "And you are the son of
    a master merchant? So your men said, back by Zuabu." Shanir nod,
    ded. Habbazu went on, "And I am the son of a thief, and each oflus
    follows his father's trade. Tell me, master merchant's son, if a thief
    could have robbed you and stain you while you lay sleeping but d
    no more than pass by in the night, what would you owe that man
     "In Gibil, we do not reckon thievery an honorable trade," Sh-a
    answered. "A man owes it to himself not to do anything dis
    able. He does not need any other man to owe him anything fi
    refraining."
     "We think differently in Zuabu," Habbazu said. "With us, thie

    




    in
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    an?"
    
    arur
    
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    g for
    
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    is work like any other. If it were not honorable work, would the god
    of the city command us to undertake it?"
     "I know little of the ways of gods," Sharur told him.
     "Of course you know little of that-you are a Gibli." Habbazu
    raised a bushy eyebrow. "The god of Gibil drowses. The god of Gibil
    sleeps." Sharur wished Engibil had been drowsier; he wished the god
    had been sleepier. The thief continued, "If the god of Gibil were not
    a drowsy god, if he were not a sleepy god, I would not have come
    to-" He broke off.
     "-To steal something that belongs to the god?" Sharur finished
    for him.
     Habbazu walked rapidly along the narrow, twisting street. Sharur
    had to push himself to keep up with the thief, though he was larger
    and his legs longer. He got the feeling Habbazu could easily have
    escaped him, had he so chosen. Sweat rolled down his back. He got
    the feeling a playful three-year-old could easily have escaped him,
    had he so chosen.
     Slowly, reluctantly, Habbazu said, "Yes, I am charged to steal
    something that belongs to the god of Gibil." He held up a hand to
    keep Sharur from speaking. "By Enzuabu I swear, master merchant's
    son, I have not come to Gibil to take anything of great value from
    the temple of Engibil. I have not come to Gibil to impoverish the
    god of the city."
     "Then why have you come?" Sharur burst out. "Has Enzuabu or-
    dered you to steal something that has no value?"
     Before, Habbazu had looked uncertain about how much he should
    say. Now he looked uncertain in a different way. "It may be so," he
   wered. "For all I know, Enzuabu aims to embarrass Engibil before
    other gods, to show that something once in the house of the god
    of Gibil is now in the house of the god of Zuabu. The gods score
    points off their neighbors no less than men."
     "What you say is true," Sharur admitted. "If someone besides me
    had caught you, though, thief and son of a thief, what would your
    fate have been? Did your god care what your fate would have been?
    Or did Enzuabu think, He is only a man. What does it matter if the
    Giblut torture him to death?"
     "I am Enzuabu's servant, Habbazu said with dignity.

    




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    'b3,RRY TURTLEDOVE
    
     "Are you Enzuabu's slave? Are you Enzuabu's dog? Are you an
    Imhursaggi, with the god looking out from behind your eyes more
    often than you do yourself?" Sharur asked. "Is your ensi no more a,,
    shield from Enzuabu than that?"
     "I am not a slave. I am not a dog. Enzuabu be praised, I am not
    an Imhursaggi," the thief replied. "Even Engibil, I have heard, can
    give orders from time to time. When Engibil tells a Gibli he shall do
    this or he shall not do that, is the god obeyed, or is he ignored and
    forgotten?"                              I I
     "He is obeyed." Sharur spoke in grudging tones made no tess grt:dg,
    ing because, had he dared ignore Engibil's command to him, he could
    have given Dimgalabzu the bride-price for Ningal.
    
    11
    
     "Then why complain when a man of another city also obeys his
    god?" Habbazu said. "How is he different from you?"
     "He is different in that he might harm my god. He is different in
    that he might harm my city." Sharur moved slowly into the shade of
    a wall. "Shall we sit? I am recovering from the foul breath of a feve
    demon, and have not yet regained all my strength."
    
     Habbazu sank down beside him. "It shall be as you say. I am obliged
    to you. I do not see, though, how I might harm your city. I do not
    see how I might harm your god, except perhaps, as I say, to make
    him a laughingstock before the other gods. No god dies of laughter
    aimed at him over a small thing. No man dies of laughter aimed at
    him over a small thing, either, though some men wish they could."
     "What is this small thing you would steal?" Sharur asked. "What
    is this small thing Enzuabu would have you steal? You still have not
    told me what it might be." As a merchant will, he put other words
    behind the words he spoke, using his voice to sugg
                                      e't t' Hab
    that, if the thing was small enough, he might stand aside whilte
    thief stole it. He had no such intention, but had no qua ms a
    creating the impression that he did, either.
     And create that impression he did. Habbazu waggled his fingers in
    a gesture of appreciation. "It is the smallest of things, master ' met,
                                           jb
                                           e
                                           a
    
    chant's son. It is the least of things, merchant of Gibil. Engibil would
    not miss it, were it to vanish from his temple. Your god would
    note its passing, were it to disappear from his shrine. It is,~,
    only a cup."

    




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     "Mighty Engibil has among his treasures many cups he would miss
    greatly," Sharur said. "He has cups of gold and cups of silver, cups
    for drinking beer and cups for drinking date wine."
     "This is no cup of gold. This is no cup of silver," the thief from
    Zuabu assured him. "This is only a cup of clay, such as a tavern might
    employ. If it falls to the ground, it will shatter. Sharur, I speak nothing
    but the truth when I say that the god's treasury would be better off
    without such a worthless, ugly piece."
     "If it be worthless, why does Enzuabu want it?" Sharur said, as he
    had before.
     Habbazu shrugged. "I am not one to know the mind of the gods.
    I have given you my best guess: that the god of my city wants nothing
    more, than to embarrass the god of yours before their fellows."
     It was, in fact, far from a bad guess, and better than any Sharur
    had come up with for himself-until this moment. Keeping his tone
    light and casual, he asked, "Is it by any chance an Alashkurri cup?"
     "Why, yes, as a matter of fact, it is." The thief gave Sharur a look
    both puzzled and respectful. "How could you know that?"
     "I know all manner of strange things." Sharur got to his feet. It
    was a struggle, and he was panting by the time he made it; his body
    still craved rest. When Habbazu stayed on his haunches, enjoying
    the coolness of the shadowed dirt on which he sat, Sharur said,
    "Rise. Come with me. I think my father should hear the tale you
    tell. I think Kimash the lugal should perhaps hear the tale you
    tell."
      "Kimash the lugal?" Habbazu spoke in some alarm. "What will he
     do to me?" Without waiting for Sharur's reply, he answered his own
     question: "He is a man claiming the power of a god. He will do
     whatever he likes to me. I am a thief, come to steal from his city. He
     will not welcome me with beer and barley porridge and salt fish and
     omons."
      "Do you think not?" Sharur raised an eyebrow. "You may be sur,
     PfiSed."
      "I am surprised whenever I deal with Giblut," Habbazu answered.
     "Sometimes the surprises are for the good. Sometimes-more often-
     they run in the opposite direction."
      "True, Kimash the lugal may not welcome you with beer and on-

    




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    bARRY TUR-rLcOove
    
    ions," Sharur said. "Instead, he may welcome you with gold an!
    ver."
     "You are pleased to joke with me, knowing you could
    slaughtered like a lamb because this is your city." Habbazu pa
    and studied Sharur's face. "No. You are not joking. You mean
    you say. Why do you mean what you say?" His own face, sl~, an
    thin, radiated suspicion. He opened his mouth, then closed it
     Sharur recognized those signs, having seen them many times
    in dickers. Habbazu had drawn his own conclusion about why t
    lugal might welcome him with gold and silver. Whatever that co
    clusion. was, he did not intend to share it with Sharur. No ma
    what else the thief was, he was no fool. His conclusion was likely to
    lie somewhere on the right road-that the cup was something which
    would work to Kimash's advantage and to Engibil's disadvantage-
    Sharur realized he had told Habbazu too much, but no man, nor ev
    a god, could recall words once spoken.
     He wondered if he should raise the alarm and h   bbi
    
    was the one into which the gods of the mountains had poured
    power? Sharur did not know, and did not know how to team
    unless Habbazu could tell him.
     "Come with me to the house of my father," he told the thief.
     "I will come with you to the house of your father." Habbazu L
    rise then, and bowed to Sharur. "Perhaps what you desire *, N6at
    
                                   Enzuabu wante
    Alashkurri cup stolen from Engibil's temple. Sharur also wanted it
    removed from that temple. Sharur was willing to return it to th
                                           , t
    
                                           ed
                                           'o th
    mountains of Alashkurru, though other notions had also rosse6
                                        C
                                           b
    
    mind. He was not sure what Enzuabu would do with it if it came
    the thief-god's hands.
     He did not ask Habbazu whether Enzuabu had spoken of hi~ pp jp
    for the cup. Having already put more thoughts than he wanted
    142bbazu's mind. he did not wish to give the thief anv further id
    
    hunted through the streets of Gibil. That would take i r than
    a shout. But Engibit had in his temple several Alashkurri cups. Which
    
    Enzuabu desires may both be accomplished."
     "Perhaps this is so, Sharur agreed, nodding.
    
    be bAd not Alri-Rciv h2d_
    
    Mq1-N1)q711 Incli-cl qrniinfl wifli inrprpq ~ii, he qnd .0,1)nnir mqdp A

    




    73ETWECM TbC RIVERS
    
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    191
    
    way toward the Street of Smiths. "Poverty does not pinch Gibil," he
    remarked. "Hunger does not stalk this city. In Zuabu, they say women
    here are poor. In Zuabu, they say women and children here starve."
     "Many people say many things that are not true about Gibil and
    the Giblut," Sharur answered. He looked at Habbazu out of the cor-
    ner of his eye. "Many gods say many things that are not true about
    Gibil and the Giblut. If this were not so, Zuabi, would you be here
    now.
     "After all this time, I doubt my skeleton would have much meat
    left on its bones," the thief said coolly. "My ghost would be wander-
    ing my city, telling anyone who could hear what vicious, wanton
    murderers the men of Gibil were."
     That struck Sharur as an honest answer. He shook his head in
    bemusement. Getting an honest answer from a thief was like plucking
    sweet, fat dates from the branches of a thornbush.
     When they came out onto the Street of Smiths, Habbazu pointed
    down its length. "What is that great building there, the one that
    looks to be almost the size of the temple to your city god?"
     "That is the lugal's palace," Sharur replied. "That is the building
    wherein the mighty Kimash makes his residence, as his father and
    grandfather did before him."
     "All that, for a mere man?" Habbazu shook his head in slow won-
    der. Then his eyes lit, as if torches had been kindled behind them.
    "He must have many treasures. And how can a mere man guard what
    is his as well as a god?" Instead of being angry at the lugal for usurping
    the god's place, he saw that usurpation as an opportunity for himself
     "Do you know, Zuabi," Sharur said, "you are farther along the path
    toward thinking like a man of Gibil than you may suspect."
     The thief drew himself up, the very image of affronted rectitude.
    "You have caught me," he said. "You have spared me. Do you think
    this gives you the right to insult me?"
     I meant it for a compliment," Sharur said mildly. That Habbazu
    nade a joke of it meant he did not take it seriously, either, no matter
    what he said. Sharur thought Enzuabu would take it seriously. Wher-
    ever men looked first to their own advantage and only then toward
    service to their gods, there the unquestioned, unchallenged rule of

    




    j
    
    192          DARRY TURT-Lc-0c)ve
    
     And, as Habbazu walked along the Street of Smiths, he watched
    with keen interest. His eyes flicked to left and right, studying donkey
    trains, peering into smithies and shops. "We have smiths in. Zuabu,"
    he said after a while. I do not think we have so many smiths as do
    you Giblut. We have merchants. I do not think we have merchants
    so busy as do you Giblut."
    
     Sharur's chest puffed out with pride. "Trade here is slow these dks,
    too," he said. Habbazu did not look as if he believed hirn, though
    that was simple truth.
     Ereshguna was pressing a stylus into a tablet of damp clay when
    Sharur led Habbazu into his home. His father looked unhappy as he
    wrote, which likely meant he was reckoning up accounts. As 34
    with other cities and other lands declined, the accounts gave lessina
    less reason for a man to look anything but unhappy. ' ' I -
     Thus, when Sharur and the thief came in, Ereshguna set dojthe
    tablet with every sign of relief. I greet you, my son," he said, bowing,
    He turned to Habbazu and bowed again. "And I greet your compri, t
    ion as well, though I have not yet had the pleasure and h r Of
    making his acquaintance."
     "Father, I present to you Habbazu, who visits Gibil frona t cili
    of Zuabu," Sharur said. "He practices the Zuabi trade. Habbazu, he
    is Ereshguna my father, the head of the house of Ereshguna."
     Habbazu bowed. He had polished manners when he chose to use
    them. I greet you, Ereshguna of the house of Ereshguna. Your fame
    is wide, as is the fame of your house. But you should be most famoj
    for the mercy your splendid son showed a thief who intende to stea
    from his caravan outside Zuabu."
     "Ah." Ereshguna's eyebrows rose. "You are not any Zuabi
    You are that particular Zuabi thief. I did not know your name."
     "Yes, I am that particular thief." Habbazu bowed once more.
     "When I met him outside Zuabu, I did not know his name " Sharur
    said.
     His grandfather's ghost shouted in his
    
                                    ear, and, no doubt, in
    eshguna's: "Are you mad, boy 7 Has the sun baked the wits from your e~
    head? Have the demons of idiocy crept in through your ears and built
    a home between them? Why do you bring a Zuabi
    
    thief into

    




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    house? Do you want to wake up in the morning and find half the
    walls missing?"
     "It will be all right, my father," Ereshguna murmured in the tone
    people often used when ghosts interrupted their conversations with
    fellow mortals. Habbazu looked up at the ceiling and said nothing.
    That tone would have been familiar to him, too. Ereshguna clapped
    his hands together and, raising his voice, called for bread and onions
    and beer.
     He set out an extra, partly filled cup for the ghost of Sharur's
    grandfather, surely in the hope that, having consumed the essence
    of the beer, the ghost would grow gay or grow sleepy and would in
            up. To Sharur's relief, that hope, or at least the last
    
    f
    
    e
    s
    al
    
    ef.
    
    part of it, was realized.
    
     Having drunk, having eaten, Ereshguna asked Sharur, "WI-iy has
    Habbazu come to Gibil to practice the trade of the Zuabut?" Why did
    you bring him here? underlay the words.
           as light and casual as he could make it, Sharur said,
    "Enzuahu charged Habbazu to steal something from the temple of
    Engibil: a cup of baked clay that came to the god's house from the
    mountains of Alashkurru."
     "Really?" Ereshguna said, Sharur nodded. So did Habbazu. Eresh-
    guna plucked at his beard. "Isn't that interesting?"
     "I thought so, Father, Sharur said, having been too well brought
    up to say something as impolite as, W%at did I tell you?
     "Why such a fuss over one worthless cup?" Habbazu asked.
     Sharur did not directly answer that question. Sharur could not
    directly answer that question, having sworn in the market square of
    lmhursag by all the gods of Kudurru that he would not. Instead, he
    said, "Think, thief Would Enzuabu have sent you to Gibil to steal
    one worthless cup?"
     "Who know what a god would do?" Habbazu returned. "Who can
    guess what is in a god's mind?" But he leaned forward, his sharp-
    featured face alert. "Speaking as a mere man, though, I say you are
    likely right. And so I ask a different question: What is the true value
    of this cup that seems worthless?"
      Again, Sharur did not answer. Again, Sharur could not answer.

    




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    b,XRRY            TURTLeOove
    
    His father had taken no oath to speak of the power contained in the
    thing from the Alashkurru Mountains only to the folk of his o*-n
    city. But Ereshguna said only, "We are not certain ourselves. Sharur
    thought that wise; the less Habbazu heard, the less Enzuabu w,.,
    learn.
     Being no fool, Habbazu noticed he was getting something less n
    straightforward answers. "You know more than you are saying;, e
    remarked, although without any great rancor.
     "Yes, we know more than we are saying," Sharur agreed. "You ave
    come into our city to steal from our god. Should we be delighted at
    that? Should we drink ourselves foolish and dance in the street be,
    cause of it? You have not come here to help Gibil. You have not
    come here to help the Giblut."
     "This is so," Habbazu said frankly. His eyes flicked from Sharui
    Ereshguna and back again, as they had flicked from donkey train
    smithy as he walked along the Street of Smiths. In easy, relaxed ton
    he went on, "If, though, you hated me as you might hate me, y
    would bind my hands and feet and deliver me to the temple of ]Engi
    trussed like a hog for the slaughter, that the god of this city mi t
    punish me for my crime."
     "Nothing prevents our doing that now, Ereshguna said.
     "That is so, my master," Habbazu said with a polite bow."' tit
    is not the first thought in your minds, as it would be had I fallen into
    the hands of, say, the Aggasherut. They would have given me over
    to Eniaggasher at once, to let the goddess do her worst to me."
     "We are not Aggasherut, for which I am glad," Sharur replied. He
    scratched his check, at the line where his beard stopped. "Shall we
    
     Habbazu smiled at him. "What else have we been doing?"
     Sharur inclined his head. "You speak the truth; there cart e no
    doubt of it. The question is, how much loyalty do you owe to a g
    who has twice sent you to steal from Giblut and twice left you at the
    
     "That is half the question," Habbazu said. "The other half is, tow
    much loyalty do I owe to the Giblut who twice showed rrw'~rnercy!"
      Even so, Ereshguna agreed. Also to be remembered is;he quell
    tion of how much mercy the said Giblut will continue to show you. I

    




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     "Believe me, my master, this question is never far from my mind,"
    the thief said. "You still have not said what you would have me do.
    Until I learn this, how can I judge whether I am more loyal to En-
    zuabu or more grateful to you for your mercy?"
     "That is a fair question," Ereshguna said slowly. Shatur nodded. It
    was, in fact, the question of the moment. Shar-ur felt fairly certain
    that he wanted Habbazu to steal the Alashkurri cup from Engibil's
    temple if he could. Of what should happen after that, of what would
    happen after that, he was less sure.
     He did not want Habbazu to take the cup back to Enzuabu. The
    god of Zuabu might keep it for himself or might return it to the great
    gods of the Alashkurrut. In neither case would Gibil or the Giblut
    gain any credit with those great gods.
     If Habbazu stole the cup and promised to deliver it into the hands
    of Sharur and Ereshguna, could he be trusted? Or would he say he
    would help the Giblut who had been merciful to him and then try
    to escape from Gibil with the cup and take it to the god who had
    ordered him to steal it?
     If he did deliver it into the hands of Sharur and Ereshguna, what
    should they do with it? Sharur knew returning it to the great gods of
    the Alashkurrut would be the sure course, the safe course. He did not
    know whether he cared about the sure course, the safe course. The
    notion of smashing the cup, letting the power of the gods spill out
    of it, held an appalling sweetness. Sharur had suffered. VAy should
    not the gods of the Alashkurrut suffer in turn?
     He glanced over to his father and saw the same questions in Er-
     eshguna's eyes. Habbazu saw the intently thoughtful expressions on
     both their faces, too. "Perhaps, my masters," he said with surprising
     delicacy, "this is a matter you wish to discuss further between your,
     selves before telling me what you decide."
     "Perhaps," Sharur said. "But perhaps, while we discuss this matter
     between ourselves, you will slide out the door and never again be
     seen by a Gibli who knows you for what you are."
      Habbazu bowed. "Perhaps, he said with a broad smile.
     Sharur's grandfather's ghost broke into the conversation: "Best
     thing you can do is knock the cursed Zuabi thief over the head and
     qing his body into a canal. No one will miss him, not in the least."

    




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     "No, ghost of my grandfather. It would not do," Sharur said. He
    said no more than that, not with Habbazu in earshot. But not '1'
    did the thief know too much, Enzuabu also knew too much. If ~ab,
    bazu vanished, the god of Zuabu was only too likely to send forth
    another thief, one Sharur would not be able to recognize.
     "My son is right, ghost of my father," Ereshguna said. His thoughts
    and Sharur's might have been twin streams of molten bronze poll
    into the same mold. After a moment, he spoke directly to Sharur hi
    a low voice: "I think we have no choice but to let the thief pay a
    call on the temple. He and only he knows which cup among the
    many in Engibil's treasure contains the power of the Alashkurri gods.
    Once he has it, once we learn which it is, we go on from there."
     "Father, I think you are wise. I too think we have no other choice,"
    Sharur said, nodding. He turned to Habbazu. "You will pay a call on ;
    the temple. You will bring forth this Alashkurri cup. If we aid
    will you deliver it into our hands, not into the hands of Enzuab,
     Habbazu hesitated. Had he agreed at once, with fulsome prorn es,
    Sharur would have been sure he was lying. As things were, he could
    not say with certainty whether the thief lied or told the truth-
    which, no doubt, was exactly what Habbazu wanted. He scowled
    angry at himself and Habbazu both.
     At last, the thief said, "I will deliver the cup into your hands, not
    into the hands of Enzuabu. Were it not for your forbearance, Enzuabu
    could not have sent me here. Were it not for your mercy, Enzuabu
    could not have ordered me to Gibil. I remember my debts. 1, 'T a
    them."
     "It is good," Sharur said, hoping the thief remembered debts to
    men more than whatever he owed to the god of his city.
     "Speak to me of the priests of Engibil," Habbazu said. "Speak to
    me of their comings and goings. Speak to me of their prayers and
    offerings. Speak to me of their duties and rituals, that I may avoid
    them while they perform those duties and rituals."
     Now Sharur and Ereshguna hesitated in turn. In revealing, would,
    they also be betraying? And then, before either of them could rql
    Engibil spoke, his voice resounding inside Sharur's mind as he
    You shall come at once to my temple. You shall come alone to my
    You shall obey me.

    




    I will come at once to your temple. I will come alone to your temple.
    I will obey you," Sharur said, and he left his father's house, the house
    in which he had dwelt all his days, and he walked up the Street of
    Smiths toward Engibil's temple. When the god spoke in that way, a
    man could not disobey.
     Engibil must have spoken to Ereshguna at the same time as he
    ordered Sharur to come before him, for Ereshguna neither exclaimed
    in alarm nor shouted out questions. Habbazu did both, but Sharur
    took no notice of Habbazu, not then. All he noticed was the god's
    resistless command.
     As he walked up the Street of Smiths, his own thoughts slowly
    began to return. His will, however, remained enslaved to the god's
    greater, stronger will. He could not stop his feet from moving closer
    to the temple, one step after another. But he could be bitterly amused
    at his folly-and also at Habbazu's. So the thief had believed, as
    Sharur had believed, Engibil to be a drowsy god, a sleepy god? Would
    they had been right! Now Engibil, not so drowsy, not so sleepy, had
    caught them plotting against him. What would he do? Whatever he
    wants, Sharur thought. Fear made him tremble-all but his legs,
    which kept walking, walking, walking.
     The temple loomed before him. The priest Burshagga stood wait-
    ing in front of the entrance as he approached. Sharur's mouth shaped
    words: I am come at the command of the great god. I am come at
     tlie order of the mighty god."
      "This I know," Burshagga. answered. I was commanded to wait
     here. I was ordered to bring you before the god the moment you
     arrived." His voice was steady, but fear had a home in his eyes. He

    




    198
    
    b2iLRRy -ruwrLebove
    
    was used to obeying the orders of Kimash the lugal, not
    Engibil.
     Without another word, he turned and walked into the templei,
    Without another word, Sharur followed him into the temple, as P
    might have followed-as he often had followed-Kimash's steward
    Inadapa into the palace of the lugal.
    following Inadapa.
    
                           But he had never been so aftaiL
                                             M
    
     Through the forecourts of the temple they went, Sharur behind
    Burshagga. Other priests looked up from their tasks as the two men
    went by, as Kimash the lugal's servants and slaves might have looked
    up when Inadapa led someone past them. Sharur tried to read their
    faces. He saw nothing out of the ordinary, but that failed to reassure
    him. He reckoned the priests simply took his condemnation for
    granted. No man could successfully oppose a god's direct will. Kimash
    ruled by distracting Engibil's will, not by opposing it.
     Up the many steps to Engibil's audience chamber strode Bur.
    shagga. Up the many steps to Engibil's audience chamber strcJ
    Sharur after him. Down the steps from Engibil's audience chamber
    strode no beautiful courtesan, not today. Sharur regretted that. He
    would have liked his last memories before the god condemned him
    to be of something beautiful.
     His heart pounded as hereached the top of the stairway. He told
    himself that was because he had climbed one step for each day in a
    year. But he knew his heart would have pounded no less had Engibil
    chosen to meet him in the forecourt of the temple, down at the level
    of the ground.
     Burshagga did not precede him into the audience chamber. He
    gestured to the doorway and said, "The god awaits you within."
     Sharur already knew as much; Engibil's radiance, brighter than t
    sunshine, streamed out through the entranceway. Having no ch
    but to go forward, he went forward with the best show of spki
    could muster.
                                            ti
    
    Inside Engibil's house on earth, the god sat on his gold,wrapped
    throne. Sharur cast himself down before Engibil. He felt no shan
    in doing so; he should have done likewise before the lugal,,,(,)n
    throne.                                  I
    Rise. The word resounded soundlessly inside Sharur's head. HE
    
    I

    




    BETWEEM TbC RIVERS
    
    199
    
    could not have disobeyed even had he wanted to. Willing his limbs
    not to tremble, willing his face to show none of the fear he felt, he
    got to his feet.
     "Great god, mighty god, god who founded this city, god who made
    this town, I greet you," Sharur said. "Tell me how I may serve you,
    and all shall be as you desire. You are my master. I am your slave."
     "This I know," Engibil said complacently. It pleased him now to
    speak like a man, to move his lips and let sound come forth. "I have
    been reflecting on your case, Sharur. I have been contemplating your
    circumstances, son of Ereshguna." He folded his arms across his mas,
    sive chest, awaiting Sharur's reply.
     That would have been easier to give, had Sharur had any idea how
    to answer. "Is it so, great god?" he said, temporizing as he might have
    done when a rival merchant said something unexpected and confus-
    ing during a dicker.
     "Son of Ereshguna, it is so," Engibil replied. "Hear now the judg-
    ment I have reached concerning you."
     Sharur bowed his head. "Great god, I will hear your words. Mighty
    god, I will obey your words." What choice have I? he wondered bitterly.
     "my judgment, then, is this," Engibil said. "I have decided I held
    your oath in my hand too tightly. I have decided I held your oath in
     my heart too straitly. Thus I ease it; thus I loosen it. You have my
     leave to borrow from your father bride,price wherewith to pay Dim-
     galahzu the smith."
      "Great god, may I-?" Sharur had intended to try to talk Engibil
     into reducing whatever punishments he ordained. That was probably
     hopeless, but, being a merchant and a scion of merchants, he had
     intended to try. Now what would have been his protest gurgled into
     silence after a bare handful of words.
      lie stared into the god's face. Engibil was, as always, divinely per-
     fect, divinely awe-inspiring. Engibil also looked divinely pleased with
     himself, as if he had settled a problem to his own satisfaction. So,
     evidently, he had.
      But it was not the problem because of which Sharur thought he
      had been summoned to the temple. He had to conclude, then, that
      Engibil had not been listening when he and Habbazu and Ereshguna
      c6cussed robbing the god's temple.

    




    200
    
    I?A,RRY TURTLeOove
    
     He was indeed a lazy god. He could have searched through Sharur's
    mind to learn why the man before him did not respond as he had
    expected. Sharur imagined coming before Enimhursag if the god, of
    Gibil's rival city needed to discover something. Enimhursag, if he saw
    anything out of the ordinary or suspicious, would have torn it from
    a man by force. But Engibil was content to ask.
     And Sharur answered, "Oh, yes, great god, I am pleased. My heal'
    is gladdened, mighty god. Truly you are generous, to give me leave
    to wed the woman I desire." He spoke the truth there, nothing but
    the truth. He spoke it as quickly as he could, too, to give Engibil no
    chance to change his mind yet again.
     The god smiled on him; beneficence flowed out from Engibil in
    waves. "It is good," the god of Gibil said. "It is very good. Go now.
    son of Ereshguna. Go now, and give this news to your family.
    now, and give this news to the family of the woman you desire. Nldy
    the two of you prove joyful together. May the two of you pr i6l
    together. Go now. You have my blessing."
     Sharur prostrated himself once more before the god of Gibil. Th
    he rose and, with profuse thanks, left the god's house at the top
    the temple. Burshagga waited for him outside. "I gather you are
    fortunate man, son of Ereshguna," the priest said as they began
    descend the great stairway.
    
     As Sharur stared at Engibil, so Engibil stared at Sharur. "Are you
    not pleased, son of Ereshguna?" the god demanded. "Is not your heart
    gladdened? In my generosity, I give you leave to wed the woman you
    desire."
    
     "I gather I am," Sharur agreed vaguely, being still too astonished
    for any more coherent reply.
     Burshagga did not press him. No doubt the priest had seen many
    astonished men come out of the god's house. Had he seen one more
    astonished than Sharur, Sharur would have been astonished.
     "The god has blessed the son of Ereshguna," Burshagga told the
    priests and temple servitors working in the courtyard while and
    Sharur were walking out through it.
     Ilakabkabu shuffled up to Sharur. "Are you worthy of the god's
    blessing, boy?" the pious old priest demanded
     "I gather I am," Sharur repeated. "Engibil thought I was." 1,
                                            t

    




    136TWEC-M TDC RIVERS
    
    201
    
     "Be worthy in your heart," Ilakabkabu declared. "Be worthy in
    your spirit. Deserve well of the god, and he will do well by you."
     "You give good advice," Sharur said politely. As in a dicker, he
    feigned feelings he did not have. He feigned them well enough to
    satisfy Ilakahkabu, who nodded gruffly, let out a sort of coughing
    grunt, and tottered back to the wall hanging he had been straight-
    ening.
     "For once, I cannot disagree with my colleague," Burshagga said.
    "His words are true; his doctrine is sound."
     "Any man can see as much," Sharur said. "Truly, I am blessed that
    Engibil chose to took kindly upon me. Truly, I am fortunate that the
    great god chose to grant my heart's desire."
     Truly, Sharur had no idea why Engibil had chosen to look kindly
    upon him. Truly, he did not know why the great god had chosen to
    grant his heart's desire. So far as he knew, he had done nothing to
    deserve anything but anger from Engibil. Anger was what he had
    been braced-so far as any mortal could be braced-to receive from
    'the god. After all, when Engibil so summarily ordered him to the
    temple, he and his father and Habbazu had not been singing the god's
    praises,
     But Engibil had not known. Engibil had not even suspected. Gods
    were very powerful. Gods knew a great deal. But they were not om-
    nipotent. They were not omniscient. Engibil had proved that.
      Walking out of the temple, Shatur realized the gods of the Alash-
     kurru Mountains had proved it, too. Had they been all-powerful, they
     would have recovered the cup in which they had hidden so much of
     their strength. Had they been all-knowing, they would have known
     some wanax or merchant might set the cup in a Gibli's hands.
      For that matter, when Enzuabu sent Habbazu to rob Engibil's tem-
     ple, the god of Zuabu had not known all he might have. He had not
     known the debt of gratitude his thief owed to a Gibli, or how that
     debt might affect Habbazu's actions.
      Sharur still did not know how that debt of gratitude might affect
     Habbazu's actions, either. But Sharur did know he was not a god.
     Mere mortals were used to dealing with uncertainty.
    
    d's

    




    I
    
    202
    
    bARRY TURTLeOove
    
    When Sharur returned to the house of his family, he found Ereshguna
    and Tupsharru, Betsilim and Nanadirat all gathered downstairs, all
    of them looking as if they were about to begin the rituals for the
    dead. They all cried out together when he walked through the door.
    His mother and sister embraced him; his father and brother clasped
    his hand and clapped him on the back.
     Habbazu was nowhere to be seen. "What became of the thief?"
    Sharur asked, when he was no longer kissing his parents and siblings.
     "He saw you go out the door with the will of the god pressing hard
    upon you," Ereshguna answered. "He walked with me for a few more
    moments, and then, without warning, he fled. He was around a comer
    before I had any hope of pursuing him."
     "Perhaps the power the god showed put him in fright," Sharur saki
    with a grimace. "He thought of Engibil as a drowsy god; he reckoned
    him a sleepy god. He discovered Engibil was not so drowsy, not so
    sleepy, as he thought."
     "It could be so," Ereshguna said. "In truth, Engibil hasshownhim-
    self to be more interested in the city, more interested in
    than we might have wished him to be."
     "Engibil has shown himself to be more interested in this family
    than we might have wished him to be," Betsilim exclaimed. "If not
    on account of this mysterious cup, why did the god summon
    his temple?"
     "Why?" Sharur knew he still sounded bemused. He could not help
    it, for he still felt bemused. "The god summoned me to his temple
    because he is more interested in this family than we had thought hi
    to be."
     "I am your mother. I gave you birth," Betsilim said sharply. "Po,
    not think to twist my words into jokes."
     "Mother, I was not trying to twist your words into jokes," Sha
    answered. "I told the truth. Engibil summoned me to his temple to
    give me leave to accept a loan from the house with which to pay
    bride-price for Ningal the daughter of Dimgalabzu."
     That startled his family into silence. He understood, being startled
    himself. Nanadirat broke the silence first, with a squeal of deli 1h
    She hugged Sharur again. Tupsharru spoke to the slaves: "Bri ee
    No, bring wine! This news deserves better than our everyday nk.
    
    the world,
        1 -11

    




    204          I)aRRY TURTUe0ove
    
    away from Engibil, though, I would try to understand why the god
    did as he did."
     "Why he did it does not matter," Betsilim said. "Rejoice that he
    did it, as your family rejoices. Rejoice that he did it, as the family of
    Dimgalabzu the smith will rejoice when the news reaches them." She
    looked sly. "Rejoice that he did it, as Ningal your
    joice when the news reaches her."
    
                                     intended will re I
    
     Thinking of Ningal rejoicing did make Sharur want to rejoice.
    Thinking of wedding Ningal made him want to forget everything
    else. Thinking of wedding Ningal made him want to forget Habbaztq
    the thief-, it made him want to forget the Alashkurri cup in the temple'
    of Engibil.
     "Who will take the news to Dimgalabzu and his family?" Nanadira
    asked. "May we all go together? I want to see Ningal's face when she
    hears."
     "That is very forward of you, my daughter," Betsilim said, sound'
    disapproving and indulgent at the same time.
     Tupsharru leered. "Sharur wants to see Ningal's face when she
    hears."                                  I
     The kitchen slave dared to speak: "It will be a happy time." She
    would reckon it a happy time because, with Ningal come to the
    house, Sharur would not choose her to minister to his lusts even
    occasionally.
     "Let's go now, Nanadirat said. "Bad news can wait. Good rw'ws
    should not."
     "Important news, good or bad, should never wait," Ereshguna id.,
     At that, Sharur turned his head to look at his father. He fio nd
    Ereshguna looking back at him. Both of them had intent, thought
    expressions on their faces, very different from the joyful ones Betsi,
    lim, Nanadirat, Tupsharru, and the slaves were wearing (though the
                                            41
                                            U
    
    slaves' joyful countenances might well have been masks to
    their masters, at least in part).
     "Could it be?" Sharur asked.
     "Have you got any better notion?" his father returned. "Hav 0~
    got any other notion at all?"
     "What are the two of you talking about?" Nanadirat

    




    13ETWeem The Rive-Rs
    
    205
    
    I tiently. "When are we going over to the house of Dimgalabzu the
    
    I Smith?"
    
    "Later," Sharur said, also impatiently. "Father and I need to talk
    
    about this "
    
    But Ereshguna held up a hand. "No. Let us go now. We can tall
    
    about this later. If we go now, if we speak with imgalabzu now, and
    if the god is watching and listening, he will see he has accomplished
    that which he wished to accomplish. Later will be time enough to
    discuss the other. We have had the notion. It shall not escave our
    
    minds."
    
     Sharur inclined his head. "Father you are wise. As you say let us
    go now. As you say, later will be time enough to discuss the other.
    
    The notion shall not escape our minds."
    
    I
    
    "What are the two of you talking about?" Nanadirat repeated. Nei-
    
    ther Sharur nor Ereshouna answered her.
    
    Dimgalabzu was grinding a sharp edge onto a spearhead when Sharur
    and his family walked into the smithy. Seeing them all there together,
    the smith set the spearhead down on his workbench. "Well, well,
    what have we here?" he said in surprise. He took a longer look at his
    guests. A slow smile spread across his face. "What we have here is
    
    good news, unless I miss my guess."
    
    Ereshguna bowed. "What we have here is good news indeed, my
    friend," he said. "Engibil has smiled upon my son. Engibil has smiled
    
    upon the union of our families."
    
    "Is it so?" Dimgalabzu's smile got wider, but then contracted.
    "When last we spoke of this matter, there was a difficulty concerning
    the bride,price. Unless this difficulty has been eased the union can
    
    not go forward."
    
    "This difficulty has been eased, father of my intended," Sharur said.
    "The union can go forward. Today Engibil summoned me to his tem-
    ple. Today the god released me from my oath. Today he gave me
    leave to accept from my family a loan for the bride-price to be paid
    
    for N ingal your daughter."
    
    v~ "is it so?" Now the Smith sounded astonished. "How fortunate for

    




    206          b2kRRY TURTLcOove
    
    you, son of Ereshguna. The god rarely changes his mind. T e god
    rarely needs to change his mind Why did he change his mind this
    time?"
     "He said he had held my oath too tight. He said he had been too
    strait. Thus he chose to ease and loosen his hold on the oath." Sharur
    answered with nothing but the truth, straight from the god's lips. He
    did not look at his father. The thought they seemed to share would
    have to wait.
     "How fortunate for you, son of Ereshguna," Dimgalabzu repeate
    The broad smile returned to his broad face. "How fortunate for all of
    us." He clapped his hands together and shouted for his slaves to bring
    beer and salt fish and onions for his guests. Then he went to the
    stairway. "Gulal!" he called. "Ningal! Come down! We have guens
    you should see."
     Ningal and her mother came downstairs. They both carried spin-
    dles; they had been making wool or flax into thread. They exclaimed
    in surprise when they saw Sharur and his family in the smithy. Thev
    exclaimed in delight when Dimgalabzu explained why Sharur and his
    family had come.
     "Is it true, Sharur?" Ningal asked softly.
     "It is true," Sharur answered. Most of the time, his intended bri
    kept her eyes on the ground, as a modestly reared young woman w
    supposed to do in the presence of a man not of her immediate family.
    Every so often, though, she would look up at Sharur from under
    lowered eyelids. As he kept his eyes on her to the exclusion of
    else, he caught the glances. They enchanted him.
     Gulal, who stood beside her daughter, also caught those glanc
    She poked Ningal in the ribs with her elbow and muttered something
    pungent under her breath. Thereafter, Ningal glanced at Sharur less
    often and more circumspectly. But, to Sharur's delight, she did not
    stop glancing at him.
     In came the beer and salt fish and onions. "Let us drink," Diw,-
    galabzu boomed. "Let us eat. Let us rejoice that our two families
    to be made one. Let us rejoice that the god has favored
    families'being made one."
     They drank. They ate. They rejoiced. Gulal and Betsilim pi 4eir
    heads together and talked in low voices for some time. Every so often,
    
    :J
    
    a

    




    AMT
    
   ~d.
    of
    
   in-
    led
    iey
    his
    
    -ide
    
    was
    
    Lily.
    Lder
     all
    
    ces.
    iing
     less
     not
    
    )im-
    ; are
    
    two
    
    -heir
    ften,
    
    13C-TWEEM Tj)C RIVCRS
    
    207
    
    they would look over at Sharur and Ningal and then go back to their
    intent conversation. He eyed them with considerable apprehension.
    Because they were only women, he felt foolish about that ... until
    he noticed Ereshguna and Dimgalabzu eyeing them with considerable
    apprehension. If his father and the father of his intended worried
    about their wives, his own concern had reason behind it.
     Dimgalabzu asked, "How did the god of the city come to release
    you from the oath he formerly held close?"
     "If you mean to ask why the god chose to do it, father of my
    intended, you would have to enquire of him," Sharur replied. What-
    ever ideas he and his father had on that score, he was not yet ready
    to share them with Dimgalabzu. "If you mean to ask how he did it,
    he summoned me to his temple, as I told you, and told me of his
    change of heart there."
     "How very curious," Dimgalabzu murmured. "Do not mistake me,
    son of Ereshguna; I am delighted that Engibil changed his mind. I
    am)oyous that the god thought twice. But I am also surprised."
     "I was surprised, too, when Engibil summoned me to his house on
    earth," Sharur said. He had also been horrified, but the smith did not
    need to know that. He wondered whether he ought to tell Dimgal-
    abzu about Habbazu. For the time being, he decided, the father of
    his intended did not need to know about the Zuabi thief, either.
     Ningal and Nanadirat put their heads together, as their mothers
    had done. Watching them whisper and giggle and point at him made
    Sharur want to sink into the floor. He glared. They giggled harder
    than ever. Having nothing better to do, he dipped up another cup
    of beer.
      Gulal spoke up in a loud voice: "It is decided."
     "Aye, it is," Betsilim agreed. Between the two of them, they
    sounded as certain-and as irresistible-as any god Sharur had ever
    met.
     Gulal went on, "The wedding shall take place on the day of the
    full moon of the last month of fall: not only a day of good omen, but
     also one on which the son of Ereshguna is unlikely to find himself
     away from the city with a caravan."
      Sharur did not think he was likely to find himself away from the
 city with a caravan any time soon. No other cities of Kudurru, no
       r, ~

    




    208
    
    bXRRY TURTLe0ovr=
    
    other lands around Kudurru, seemed willing to trade with Gibil. Still,
    his guess was that his mother had won the concession from Gulal ,
    hoping trade would improve in what remained of the better weather.
    He supposed he should have thanked her. Instead, he grumbled to
    himself at having to wait so long for the wedding.
     Whatever else Dimgalabzu was, he was not a foolish man, and, if
    he was not a young man, he once had been. He said, "Let Sharur
    and Ningal embrace now, before us all, in token that this arrange,
    ment is agreeable to them."
     Gulal gave her husband a look suggesting she would have a good
    deal to say when she could speak to him in private. When Ningal
    stepped toward Sharur with a smile, Gulal gave her daughter the mme
    look. Under Gulal's glare, the embrace was perforce brief and deco,
    rous. But an embrace it unquestionably was.
     Tupsharru. clapped his hands together. Nanadirat whooped. That
    embarrassed Sharur enough to make him let go of Ningal even sooner
    than he would have otherwise. Dimgalabzu looked pleased with him,
    self Gulal's expression said she was less furious than she had bee
    before Sharur took Ningal in his arms.
     Sharur bowed to the mother of his intended. His politeness made
    Gulal smile for a moment, till she caught herself doing it. Ninga'
    that and smiled too, at Sharur. He. kept his own face carefully b
                                            4
    A merchant often found it useful not to let the other side in a ba a in
    see at a glance everything in his mind.
     Ningal said, "The end of fall is not so far away. Every day that g4s
    by brings it one day closer."
     "You are right," Sharur said loyally. Altogether too many days
    would go by to suit him, but he would not disagree with his intended
    before she became his wife-nor, he hoped, too many times aftqr1he Mr
    became his wife, either.
    
    Ereshguna stared down into his cup of beer, as if it held the answers
    to all the questions in the world. A torch behind him flickered, mak,
    ing his shadow jump. Outside in the darkness, a cricket chirped
    Farther away, a dog howled. Those were the only noises Sharur heard

    




    swers
    mak-
    rped.
    card.
    
    13ETWEEM TbC RIVERS
    
    209
    
    His mother and sister and brother had gone up onto the roof to sleep.
    The slaves slept, too, in their stuffy little cubicles.
     Sharur looked down at his own cup of beer. He saw no answers
    there. He drank. If he drank enough, that was an answer of sorts, but
    not the one he needed now. He sighed.
     So did Ereshguna. The master merchant sipped, then said, "Son,
    tell me what is in your mind: why, in your reckoning, did Engibil
    choose the moment he chose to release you from your oath concern-
    ing the bride-price for Ningal?"
     "Did we not have the same notion at the same time?" Sharur
    asked.
     Ereshguna smiled. "Each of us had a notion at the same time.
    Whether we had the same notion, I cannot know until I learn what
    your notion was."
     "That is so," Sharur admitted. "Very well, then. I will tell you
    what my notion was." Before continuing, he covered the eyes of the
    amulet to Engibil he wore on his belt. His father did the same with
    the amulet he wore. Whatever their notions were, neither of them
    wanted the god to know. As neither of them was sure about precisely
    how much good their precautions did, Sharur went on warily: "My
    notion, Father, is that the god chose to release me from my oath
    concerning the bride-price for Ningal to make me so joyous, I would
    forget about every other concern I had."
     "Thus far we walk the same trail, like two donkeys yoked to-
    get er," Ereshguna said. "But tell me one thing more. Do you think
    the god wanted you to forget every other concern you hold, or some
    concern in particular?"
     "Father, your thoughts are as orderly as the accounts set down on
    our clay tablets," Sharur said, and Ereshguna smiled again. "I think
    Engibil wanted me to forget some concern in particular. I think the
    god wanted to distract me from helping Habbazu the Zuabi steal from
    his temple the cup, the plain cup, the ordinary cup, from the moun-
    tains of Alashkurru."
      "Indeed, you are truly my son," Ereshguna said. "The same canal
     waters your thoughts and mine. That is the reason I also believe
     Engibil had for loosening his hold on the oath you gave him. I do

    




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    I)ARRY TURTLeOove
    
    not believe the god wanted Habbazu to go forward. I do not bjt\,e
    the god wanted us to help Habbazu go forward."
     Sharur scratched his head. "Do you think, then, that Engibil dis-
    covered the cup from the mountains was an object of power because
    he learned the Zuabi thief sought to steal it?"
     "I do not." Ereshguna sounded thoroughly grim. "I
    knew from the beginning the cup
    of power."
     Now his thoughts had got ahead of those of his son. Sharur raced
    to catch up. When he did, he stared at his father. "You are saying
    the god knew this thing and told us he did not." From there
                                        ,,git was
    but a short step to the full and appalling meaning of  un,,
    words: "You are saying the god told us a lie."
     "Yes," Ereshguna answered in a voice soft and dark and heavy
    lead. "That is what I am saying."
     His fingers were pressed over the eyes of his amulet, so hard that
    his fingernails turned pale. Looking down at his own hands,!~`aur
    saw their nails were yellowish white, too. "But why?" he whisp)ered.
    "Why would the god tell us a lie? Why would he not speak the tru
    to men of his own city?"
     "I do not know that," Ereshguna said. "Ever since you return
    from the temple with your news, I have pondered it. I have ~Oun
    no answer that satisfies me."
     Though Sharur sat inside with his father, he glanced toward the
    temple. He could see it in his mind's eye as clearly as if all the wal~
    between had fallen down, as clearly as if it were bright noon rather
    than black of night. He hoped Kimash had found some distraction
    for Engibil at this moment. Slowly, cautiously, he said, "Perha" th,
    god intends to let lack of trade stifle the city. Perhaps he intends al'I
    of Gibil to grow poor, so that all of Gibil will be glad to have him
    back as its ruler."
     "Perhaps so," Ereshguna said. "This thought, or one not fardiffer'
    ent from it, also crossed my mind. It comes nearer to accountingior
    why the god is doing as he is doing than any other I have found.
    I do not think it accounts in fullness for the god's acts."
     "How not?" Sharur said.
     "I will explain how not. I will set it forth for you," his
    
                     think the
    from the mountains was an object

    




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    answered. "What troubles me is that, if Gibil grows poor, Gibil also
    grows weak. If Gibil grows weak, what will our enemies do? What
    will Imhursag do? What will Enimhursag do? Will the god of Imhur-
    sag not believe Gibil's weakness and Engibil's weakness to be one
    and the same?"
     ,,Ah," Sharur said. "I see what you are saying. Yes, I think that is
    likely. Imhursag smarts from defeats at the hands of Gibil. Enimhur-
    sag smarts from defeats at the hands of Engibil. If Gibil grows weak,
    Engibil will also seem to have grown weak. The god of Imhursag and
    the Imhursagut will want their revenge."
     "Even so." Ereshguna nodded. "This is why I do not understand
    why Engibil would seek to weaken his city, even to regain his rule
    here."
     "Ah," Sharur said again. "Now I follow. Now your thought is clear
    to me. What could be so important to the god that he would sooner
    -have his city humiliated than yield it?"
     "That is half the riddle, but only half, and, I think, the smaller
    half," Ereshguna said. "What could be so important to Engibil that
    he would sooner have himself humiliated than yield it?"
     Sharur inclined his head. His father had drawn a distinction that
    needed drawing. Sharur had seen how Engibil could be indifferent to
      Mer or not the folk of Gibil prospered. The god even wondered
      ther such marvels as metalworking and writing, which helped
     e folk of Gibil prosper, were worthwhile, because they infringed on
     is prerogatives.
     But one of the god's prerogatives was his standing among his fellow
     gods. If Gibil grew weak, Imhursag would defeat it. If Imhursag de-
     feated Gibil, Enimhursag's power would grow and Engibil's would
     recede. The two neighboring gods truly did hate each other, like two
     families living in the same street whose children threw rocks at one
     another.
      As Ereshguna had, Sharur asked, "What could make Engibil will-
     ing to take a step back-perhaps to take several steps back-before
     Enimhursag, with whom he has quarreled since time out of mind?"
      "Whatever it is, it has to do with the cup into which the great
     gods of the Alashkurrut poured their power," Ereshguna said. "Of
     that we may be certain."

    




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    bARRY TURTLcOove
    
     'Yes, Sharur said. Dimly, he remembered the cup that had figured
    in his fever dreams. Part of him wished he could recall more of those
    dreams. The rest of him wished he could forget them altogether, as
    madness he was better off without.
     Ereshguna went on, "But we may be as certain of another thi
    that we do not know why Engibil has such concern for this cup,
    which holds none of his own power, and that it may be-no, that it
    is-very important for us to learn the reason for his concern."
     "Every word you say is true," Sharur replied. In a whisper, he
    added, "This is more than can be said of Engibil in this matter."
     "So it is." His father also whispered. "Well, I shall try to say on'
    more true thing, and then I shall drink the last of my beer here and
    go up on the roof to sleep. Here is the last true thing I shall try to
    say: I think we need to let Kimash the lugal know a Zuabi thief is
    prowling his city."
     (t
    
    My father, in this too you are right. Sharur drank the last of t
    
    beer from his own cup. He doused all the torches but one, which
    and Ereshguna used to light their way upstairs.
    
    When Sharur walked with Ereshguna to the lugal's palace the next
    day, he felt more nearly himself than he had since the fever demon
    breathed its foul breath into his mouth. He looked up and down the
    Street of Smiths as he walked along, hoping he might spot Habbazu.
    But the Zuabi thief did not show himself. Sharur wondered if he had
    already crept into Engibil's temple to steal the cup,
    escaped with it.
     As they drew near the palace, Ereshguna raised an eyebrm,,
    "Things are quiet here today," he remarked. "Things are quieter here
    today than I have seen them for a long time."
     "Yes." Sharur nodded. "Where are the donkeys carrying Iric
    Where are the slaves carrying mortar? Where are the workmen bui
    ing the palace higher and broader?" Only a couple of guards stood
    front of the entryway, leaning against their spears.
     Sharur and Ereshguna came up to the guards. One of the men sa
    "How may we serve you, master merchant? How may we serve you,
    master merchant's son?"

    




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     "We would have speech with Kimash the mighty lugal," Ereshguna
    answered. "We have learned of a matter about which he must hear."
     The guards looked at each other. One of them set his spear against
    the wall and went into the palace. When he returned, Inadapa fol-
    lowed him.
     Bowing to the steward, Sharur said, "Good day. As my father told
    the guard, we would have speech with Kimash the mighty lugal."
     Inadapa bowed in return. "Master merchant's son, I regret that this
    can not be." He shifted his feet and bowed to Ereshguna. "Master
    merchant, I regret that your request can not be granted."
     "But the matter on which we would speak with the mighty lugal
    is both urgent and important," Ereshguna said, frowning.
     "Master merchant, I regret that your request can not be granted,"
    Inadapa repeated.
     Ereshguna folded his arms across his chest. "Why can my request
    not be granted?" he rumbled. "If I may not see Kimash the lugal, I
    whose house has always supported the lugals of Gibil, who then may?
    If he is sporting among his wives or concubines, let him sport among
 them at another time: what I have to tell him will not wait. Should he
       me wrong, having heard me out, let his wrath fall on my head."
      Ne is not sporting among his wives," Inadapa said. "He is not
      rting among his concubines."
    
    "Why can he not see us?"
    
    r Inadapa took a deep breath. "Master merchant's son, master mer-
    chant, he can not see you because he is closeted with Engibil. The
    god summoned him to the temple at first light this morning, and he
    has not yet returned."
     "Oh," Sharur said, the word a sharp exhalation, as if he had been
    punched in the stomach.
     "May he come back to the palace soon," Ereshguna said. "May he
    come back to the palace safe. May he come back to the palace as
    lugal."
     "So may it be," Inadapa said fervently, If Engibil chose to arise
    frot-o two generations and more of drowsiness, the first the folk of
    Gibil would know of it was when he began looking out of their eyes
    aM thinking their thoughts for them, as Enimhursag did in the city

    




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    1)2k,RRY TURTLEOOVC
    
     "When Kimash returns, faithful steward, please do tell him
    would have speech with him at his convenience," Shanir said.
    assumed Kimash would return to the palace as lugal, not as.
    Engibil's toy, Sharur thought. He had to assume as much.
    else would be disaster.
     Inadapa bowed. "It shall be just as you say." He hesitated. "I hope
    it shall be just as you say." More than that he would not say,
    more than Sharur would.                   1
    Sharur looked in the direction of Engibil's temple, though the great
    bulk of the palace hid it. Suddenly, in his mind's eye, the lugal's
    residence seemed transparent as clear water. If Engibil arose in his.'
    full might, how long would so great a building be given over to a
    mere man?
     Ereshguna said, "When the mighty lugal returns from the temple,
    please send a messenger to let us know. We do have a matter of som
    importance to take up with him as soon as may be, provided
    shrugged.
     "It shall be just as you say," Inadapa repeated. He shook himself
    like a dog coming out of a canal. His big, soft belly wobbled.
    we soon come to live in more placid times."
     "So may it be," Sharur and Ereshguna said together. Sharur did
    not think his father believed more placid times would come soon.
    He knew he did not think more placid times would come soon.
     He and his father left the lugal's palace and started up the Street
    of Smiths toward their home. Now both of them kept stealing glances
    toward Engibil's temple. If the god took over the city once more,
    Sharur wondered whether he would leave those who had led Gibil's
    search for more freedom for mortal men enough of that freedom
    flee to some other town.
     Then he wondered how much difference it would make. No
    else in Kudurru had the new taken hold as it had in Gibil. Still, even
                                             W,
    
                                             PA
    
    under the thumbs of their city gods, men remained to some degree
    men. Here and there across the land between the rivers, no,doubt,
    were ensis who longed to make themselves into lugals. If they had a( ~,
    their disposal merchants and smiths and scribes from Gibil, perhapsi
    they might succeed.
    
    a"
    Perhaps, too, they would fall short, as Huzziyas the, wanax a

    




    BETWEE" TbC RIVERS
    
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    fallen short in the mountains of Alashkurru. But some sparks might
    still smolder, to be kindled again one day a generation from now, or
    two, or ten.
     Ereshguna's thoughts must have been much like Sharur's. When
    they came to a man dipping cups of beer out of a large jar, Sharur's
    father said, "Let us stop and drink. Who knows how long we have
    left to taste beer with our own tongues? Who knows how long we
    have left before Engibil tastes beer with our tongues, sees the city
    with our eyes, thinks with our minds?"
     That not only made Sharur want to drink beer, it made him want
    to drink himself blind. He bought a second cup from the beer seller,
    and was drinking from it when a large, burly man strutted up to the
    fellow and loudly demanded some of his wares. Having got the cup,
    the burly man turned to Sharur and Ereshguna, saying, "Can't work
    all the time, eh, master merchant, master merchant's son?"
     "No, Mushezib, we cannot work all the time," Ereshguna answered
    with a smile that seemed altogether natural and unforced. A mer-
    chant, after all, was trained not to show on his face everything he
    thought, Sharur admired his father's skill at concealment.
     "Not much work for guards these days," Mushezib remarked.
    "Things are pretty quiet."
     "If we have good fortune, caravans will resume before too long,"
    Shatur answered. Caravans might also resume before too long if the
    men of Gibil did not have good fortune, but those would be caravans
    where Engibil looked out through the eyes of merchants, guards, and
    donkey handlers. The Imhursagut sent forth such caravans. Sharur
    chose not to dwell on them.
      Mushezib's eyes brightened. "Is it so, master merchant's son?"
      "It is so," Sharur said firmly, though he remained unsure whether
     it would be so. Then his eyes sparkled, too. He pointed to Mushezib.
     "And you are a man who can help make it so."
      "P" the guard captain asked. "How is this so? How can this be so.
      I take no part in the affairs of the great. I take no part in the quarrels
    
    "That is not so," Sharur said. "Do you recall the thief whom En
    :uabu sent to rob our caravan when we returned from the Alashkurn
    untains?"
    
    AL,
    ME
    JOIL-
    
    , 1~p

    




    216
    
    bz,RRY -ruRTLcabove
    
     "Oh, aye, I recall him," Mushezib answered. "I would recall his
    ugly face even as I lay dying. With my last breath, I would curse him,
    You should have left his body in the bushes, a feast for dogs and
    ravens. You should have left his body in a canal, a meal for fish and
    snails."
     Some of that, in among the bombast, was what Sharur hoped to
    hear. "If you recall his face, you will know him if you see him agai~"
    "Master merchant's son, I will." Mushezib spoke with great cir,
    tainty. "Nor am I the only one among the guards and donkey han
    dlers who would."                        31
     Sharur smiled. So did Ereshguna, who must have seen where his
    son's thoughts were going. Smiling still, Sharur went on, "This is
    good news, Mushezib, for I must tell you that this thief, whose name
    is Habbazu, has come to Gibil to steal from Engibil's temple. I have
    seen him. I have had speech with him. But I could not bring him
    before the mighty lugal for justice, for he escaped me." That he had
    not intended to bring Habbazu before Kimash for justice was nodi"
    the guard needed to know.
     Mushezib's blunt, battered features grew dark with anger. "He is
    here? In this city? He has come to rob our god for Enzuabu? Master
    merchant's son, I will hunt him down. I will put word of him in the
    ears of our comrades who also saw him outside Zuabu. When we lay
    hands on him, the scavengers shall feed."
     "No," Sharur said, and Mushezib's shaggy eyebrows rose in surprise.
    "No," Sharur repeated. "Bring him to the house of Ereshguna, that
    we may question him as he should be questioned."
     "Gold awaits you if you bring him to my house," Ereshguna add
     "Question him as he should be questioned, eh?" Grim anticipati
    filled Mushezib's chuckle. "Question him with hot things and sharp'
    things and hard things and heavy things, do you mean?"
     "It could be so, " Sharur answered, not altogether untruthfully.
    still did not know how far Habbazu could be trusted.   to
     Mushezib bowed to him. "Master merchant's son-" He also
    bowed to Ereshguna. "Master merchant, my comrades and I ~hall
    drop on this thief like a collapsing wall. We shall fall upon hini like
    the roof beams of a house that crumbles."

    




    BC-TWCCM T13C RIVC-RS
    
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     "It is good," Sharur said, and Ereshguna nodded. Mushezib bowed
    to each of them once more and strutted off, a procession of one. By
    his manner, he expected to return momentarily to the house of Er-
    eshguna with one large fist clamped around Habbazu's skinny neck.
    Sharur hoped he or another caravan guard or a donkey handler would
    soon return to the house of Ereshguna with Habbazu in his grasp.
     "Do not raise your hopes too high," Ereshguna warned him. "Do
    not expect too much. These men saw Habbazu for a small part of
    one night some while ago. They may not recognize him even if he
    should walk past them on the street. And he is a clever thief, a master
    thief. He may not show himself at all, and he will surely be adept at
    ang r.11
     "Every word you say is true, Father," Sharur replied. "And yet-1
    will hope."
     "How not?" Ereshguna clapped him on the back. "You are a man.
    I too will hope-but not too much."
    
    Sharur was adding numbers on his fingers that afternoon when a man
    of about his father's age came through the doorway. "One moment,
    my master, if you please," Sharur said, as to any stranger. "Let me
    finish my calculation." He looked down to his hands once more.
    "Take the time you need," the stranger answered, and Sharur for-
    got the calculation he had been making. The man's voice declared
    what a hasty glance had not-he was no stranger. There stood Ki-
    mash the lugal, not in a lugal's finery but in the rather dirty kilt and
    worn sandals a potter or a leatherworker might have worn.
    "Your pardon, mighty lugal," Sharur gasped, and began to prostrate
    himself before the man who had ruled Gibil for most of his life.
    "No. Wait," Kimash said. "Speak neither my name nor my title
    while I am here. Call me ... Izmaili." He plucked the name from the
    air like a conjuror plucking a date from a woman's ear.
     1 obey." Sharur wondered if he was not to call Kimash lugal be-
     cause Kimash was lugal no more. Had Engibil stripped the man of
     his title and his power? Would a dirty tunic and worn sandals be
     Kimash's fate forevermore?

    




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    b&RRY TURTLE00VE
    
     Reading his thoughts as if they were syllables incised on clay, K
    mash said, "You need not fear, son of Ereshguna. I still am what
    was." He smiled at his circumlocution, then went on, "Barely, pe
    haps, but I am. No, a man who looks like me sits on my high seat i
    the palace. A man who looks like me wears my raiment. He drinl
    my fine date wine. He eats my delicate food. If he so chooses, I
    couples with my women-all but a few whose names I have not to
    him, and of whom I am particularly fond. If the god looks inO
    palace, he will see the lugal in the palace, doing the things the IU'f'
    does. P I am lzmaili, a person of no particular account."
     Sharur bowed, acknowledging Kimash's daring. "But," he cot
    not help asking, "what if the god should summon the lugal to'
    temple while lzmaili, a person of no particular account, walks throt
    the streets of Gibil?"
    "Then we have a difficulty," Kimash said. "But I do not think i,
    will happen, not today. The god and the lugal have already ha
    long talk today. Call your father, if you would." He smiled. "lznr,
    a person of no particular account, was told the two of you would b
    speech with him."                        A
     "It shall be as you say, my master," Sharur replied, as he m
    have to any customer who came into the shop. He raised his v(
    "Father! The ... a man is here to see you."
    
    4~
    
     When Ereshguna came out, he recognized at once who the
    was. As Sharur had done, he began to prostrate himself. As Kir
    had done with Sharur, he bade Ereshguna stop and gave the r
    by which he would be known and the reason he was wearing bc
    and his shabby clothes.
     Ereshguna nodded slow approval. "This is a bold plan, lzm
    He hesitated not at all over Kimash's alias. "This is a clever
    person of no particular account."
    "For which praise I thank you-although why you should,
    the thanks of a person of no particular account is beyond me.
    mash's eyes twinkled as he went on, "Also beyond me is why th
    of you would want to have speech with a person of no part
    account."                            -_ I
     "Be that as it may, we do," Ereshguna said. Together,
    Shatur explained how Habbazu had come to Gibil to steal the

    




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    baRRy -ruRTLe0ovc=
    
     Kimash's eyes widened. Then he caught the joke, and threw back
    his head and laughed. "It is good," he said at last. "It is very good.
    Obey me as you would obey the lugal and all will be well. NOW I will
    go back to the palace. I will see how much fine wine I have left. I
    will see how much dainty food I have left. I will see how many babies
    born next spring I will know to be a cuckoo's eggs, and not sprung
    from my seed at all." With a shrug of resignation, he left the house
    of Ereshguna and strode down the Street of Smiths.
     "He is a bold man," Ereshguna said when the lugal was gone. "He
    is a clever man. He is a resourceful man. He is the right man to lead
    Gibil and to keep Engibil quiescent while we-" He broke off.
     While we mortals gather strength, was no doubt what he had been
    on the point of saying. Saying such things while Engibil was less
    quiescent than he might have been was unwise. In any case, he kne
    Sharur could supply the words he did not speak aloud.  i
     Sharur did supply those words without difficulty. "He is e e, th,
                                         v Y'
    you have said he is," he agreed. "But, Father, is he a man bel
    whom we want to bring Habbazu the thief if we lay hands on him
    once more
     tiv
    
       ou were e one who said we would do as lzmaili said, just as if
    he were the lugal," Ereshguna reminded him.
    "Yes, I said that." Sharur shrugged. "What of it? If the goAoes
    not scruple to lie to me, should I scruple to lie to the lugal?"      - A
     Ereshguna whistled softly between his teeth. "Kimash may punif
    you for lying to him. Who will punish Engibil for lying to you?A
     I will, Sharur thought, but those were words he would not say A
    Instead, he answered, "If the lugal is warning the priests of Engibil
    temple about Habbazu, would not giving the thief over to him bel
    the same as condemning the thief to death?"
     "That is likely to be so, yes." Ereshguna grew alert. "I see J
    you are saying, son. We want the Alashkurri cup stolen. Kirnash, 6
    the other hand, may well reckon that giving the thief over to Etgibil
    for punishment, or punishing Habbazu himself, will gain him rnm
    credit with the god."
     "It will gain him credit with the god of Gibil, yes," Sharur lid,
    "but it will not help him or help us in our dealing with the other
    
    city gods of Kudurru, nor with the gods of the Alashkurrut."

    




    es
    
    Ig
    
    se
    
    ng
    -)re
    
    im
    
    L i Sh
    
    ,hat
    )011
    
    -Lore
    
    ;aid,
    ther
    
    BETWEEM TbC RIVCRS
    
    221
    
     "I wonder how much Kimash frets over that," Ereshguna said. 'T
    is the lugal, the man who rules Gibil. Anything that helps him ru
    Gibil, he will likely do. Anything that gains him credit with Engit
    helps him rule Gibil, so he will likely do it. He will think of the re
    of us Giblut only after he thinks of ruling Gibil-so I believe."
     "And U' Sharur's mouth thinned to a bitter line. "In that, d
    lugal is much like the god, is he not?"
     Ereshguna looked startled. "I had not thought of it so. Now th
    I do, though, I see that there is some truth in what you say."
     "We sometimes have the need to do this or that without the goc
    knowing it," Sharur said, and his father nodded. "If Kimash is mu(
    like Engibil, should we not sometimes have the need to do this
    that without the lugal's knowing it?"
    
     "Yes, that would follow from the first," Ereshguna answered. Before
    Sharur could say anything, his father held up a hand to show he had
    not finished. "You must also think on this, though, son: often, if we
    have the need to do this or that without the god's knowing it, the lu-
    gal will help us shield it from his eyes. If we seek to hide from the god
    and the lugal both and we are discovered, who will shield us then?"
     "No one," Sharur answered, so bleakly that he startled Ereshguna
    again. "We Giblut have for long and long aimed to live as free as we
    could. If we are free, we are also free to fail." He grimaced. "Except
    we had better not."
    
    Mushezib did not find Habbazu. The caravan guards who had served
    under Mushezib did not find Habbazu. The donkey handlers did not
    ~nd Habbazu. Five days after Engibil had summoned Sharur to his
    temple and Habbazu had fled, the Zuabi thief returned to the house
    of Ereshguna.
     One moment, Habbazu was not there. The next, he was. So, at
    any rate, it appeared to Sharur, who was searching for a particular
    clay tablet among the many in the baskets near the scales. V~hen he
    looked up, Habbazu stood not three feet away, watching the search
    with sardonic amusement.
     "You!" Sharur exclaimed.

    




    222
    
    bz,R,Ry Tu'RTLcOove
    
     1," Habbazu agreed. He bowed to Shatur. "And you. Believe ine,
    having seen you ordered to the house of your god, I am more surprised
    to see you safe among men than you could be to see me."
     "How did you come here without being seen?" Sharur asked.
     "I have my ways," Habbazu answered airily. "I am, after all, a thief
    sent forth by Enzuabu himself." He said no more than that. Maybe
    it meant the god of Zuabu had lent him powers or enchantments to
    help him escape notice. Maybe it meant he wanted Sharur to think
    the god of Zuabu had lent him such powers and enchantments.
     At another time, Sharur might have spent considerable worry over
    the question of whether and to what extent Habbazu was bluffing.
    Now he had more important things on his mind. "The Alashkurri
    cup," he said. "Have you got it, or does it still sit in Engibil's temple?"
     Habbazu lost some of his jaunty manner. "The Alashkurri cupstill
    sits in Engibil's temple." He sent Sharur an accusing look. "The god
    of this city is not so drowsy a god as I was led to believe in Zuabu. The
    god of Gibil is not so sleepy a god as I was led to believe in my city."
     "As I told you, not everything about Gibil is as you may have been
    led to believe," Shatur said.
     "The god is alert," Habbazu said. "The priests of the god are alert,
    This makes it harder for me to enter the temple, harder for me to
    reach the chamber within which the cup rests, harder for me to es,
    cape after I steal it."
     "With the god and the priests alert, can
    Sharur asked. "Can you reach the chamber in which the cup r~stj'
    Can you steal the cup?"
     "I can do all these things." Habbazu drew himself up with the sim
    of pride in his ability at his chosen trade that Shatur or Ereshguna
    might have shown over matters mercantile. "As I said, thougl-4 it wi.
    be harder for me. I will pick my time with care."
     tt                          ct
    
    I
    
    I
    
                711"
    you enter the temple.
    
      Indeed, Sharur said, raising one eyebrow, if you do not, you are'
                                             C
    liable to be captured, as the caravan guards captured you outsi
    Zuabu."
     Habbazu looked miffed. "That should not have happened. That
    should never have happened. The caravan guards were lucky to et
    
    eyes on me, luckier still to lay hold of me."

    




    13ETAVCCM TOC RIVCRS
    
    223
    
     "As may be," Ereshguna said, coming downstairs. How long had
    he been listening? Long enough-he went on, "Vvlho is to say Engibil
    will not be lucky enough to set eyes on you? V./ho is to say Engibil's
    priests will not be lucky enough to lay hold of you? They are alert,
    as the caravan guards were alert. Have you not noticed how often
    luck comes to those who are alert?"
     "Oh, indeed, my master: I have noticed this many times," the thief
    said. "And I do not deny my task would be easier if the god's eye
    were turned elsewhere. I do not deny my task would be easier if the
    god's priests were to look in some different direction."
     "Distracting the priests may not be too hard," Ereshguna said.
    "They are, after all, but men. Distracting the god. . ." His voice
    trailed away.
     "A question," Sharur said. "Habbazu, if you steal this Alashkurri
    cup, will you still deliver it into the hands of the house of Ereshguna
    and not into the hands of Enzuabu who sent you forth?"
     "When Engibil summoned you to his temple, I repented of my
    promise," the thief admitted. "Now that I learn he did not summon
    you to punish you for consorting with me, I see that, though he may
    be alert, he does not rule every aspect of every life in Gibil, as En-
    imhursag does in Imhursag. And so, though shaken as by an earth-
    quake, the promise stands."
     "It is good," Sharur said. As he and his father and Habbazu spoke
    
    V,
    ts?
    
    sort
    una
    will
    
     are
    tside
    
    That
    0 set
    
    of the difficulty of distracting, so Engibil no doubt wondered how
    successful his effort to distract the annoying mortals would prove. He
    had succeeded in making Sharur happy by releasing the promise he
    held.
    "As your father said, distracting the priests of the god may not be
    too hard," Habbazu said. "How, though, how do you propose to dis-
    tract the god himself?"
    "That will not be easy," Ereshguna said. "You may indeed have to
    prove how gifted a thief you are."
    "To distract a god from watching over men and the concerns of
    men," Sharur said slowly, "it may be best to involve him with gods
    and the concerns of gods."
     "This Alashkurri cup has involved Engibil with gods and the con-
    
    I
    
    4

    




    224
    
    1)&RlZy TURTLEOOVC
    
    cems of gods," Ereshguna said. "Without it, he would have been a
    drowsy god. Without it, he would have been a sleepy god . Without
    it, we could have gone on living our lives as we desired."
     "There are other gods than the great gods of the Alashkurrut, other
    gods over whose doings Engibil has concerned himself for long and
    long," Sharur said. "If he were again to concern himself over their
    doings. .."
    
     "Enzuabu and Engibil do not squabble over the border between
    their lands," Habbazu said. "Zuabu and Gibil have gone on for many
    years without strife between them."
     "That is so," Sharur agreed. "But if Engibil were to look to the
    north and not to the west, what would he see? Engibil and Enim,
    hursag hate each other; Engibil and Enimhursag have long hated eaO
    other. In every generation, Gibil and Imhursag go to war against eact
    other-often twice in a generation."
     it In the past three generations, in the time while the I '1~;c' I h
    ruled Gibil, we have beaten the Imhursagut in almost all these w
    too," Ereshguna said. "In the latest one, we beat the Imhursagut
    badly, Enimhursag had to humble himself to beg for peace " H
    with no small pride.
     Habbazu said, "Strange how, though the power of your god in y
    city is less than it was, the power of your city among its neighb
    has grown greater."
     "Men matter, too," Shatur said: that, if anything, was the mo
    under which the Giblut had lived since Igigi became the first lu,,afn
    Sharur went on, "If Enimhursag were to believe Engibil's power badly
    weakened, though; if the god of the Imhursagut were to believe
    Giblut divided by factional squabbles ... would he not seek - - ,
    what we have taken from Imhursag over the years? Would hie not
    think he could but stretch forth his hand and what he had, w
    be his once more?"
                                           e
                                           V
                                           b
    
                                           e
    
                                            0
                                           a
                                            t
    
                                             0
                                             y
    
                                             t
                                             t
                                             a
    
                                            guna
     "But what would make him believe such a thing?" Eresh J~
    asked. "It is not so. If anything, as we have seen, Engibil is 41or
    active now than he has been for some time."
     "Suppose a Gibli were to flee to the land of Imhursag," Sharurs'a
    "Suppose a Gibli were to speak these words into Enimhursag's ea
    Suppose a Gibli were to beg Enimhursag to arm the Imhursagut

    




    BETWEE" TbC RIVCRS
    
    225
    
    come down into the land of Gibil and restore order, order that has
    been lost as water is lost when the bank of a canal breaks."
     "What Gibli would be mad enough to do such a thing?" Ereshguna
    said.
     "I would," Sharur answered.
     Habbazu stared at him. "You would set your city at war with Im-
    hursag. You would set your god at war with Enimhursag?"
     "I would," Sharur said. "If Engibil's eyes travel north to the border
    with the land Imhursag rules, how closely will the god watch his
    temple? How much notice will he take of a certain skulking thief?"
     "Ahhh." Habbazu let out a long breath of praise.
     "But, my son, you would not go to speak to another merchant,"
    Ereshguna said. "You would go to speak to a god. You would go to
    speak to a god who rules a city in his own right. You would go to
    speak to a god who can look deep into your heart and learn whether
    you speak truth. You would go to a god who can punish you terribly
    when he learns you are speaking lies."
      44
    
                to a god who rules a city in his own right,"
    rur said. "I would go to speak to a god whose own people fawn
    on him. I would go to speak to a god who will very much want to
    hear the words I speak into his ear. I would go to speak to a god who
    will very much want to believe the words I speak into his ear. Gods,
     men, e ieve that which they want to believe. If he believes
     t comes from my mouth, he will not look deep into my heart and
     arn whether I speak truth."
    Habbazu bowed. "Master merchant's son, no one will deny you are
    a man of courage, No one will claim you are a man without bravery."
    "A man should be brave," Ereshguna said. "A man should not be
    foolhardy. A man should be wise enough to know the difference
    between the one and the other." By the way he looked at Sharur, he
    did not think his son passed that test. "If you are wrong in this, if
    Enimhursag goes through your mind like a man going through his
    belt pouch, all is lost. If you are wrong in this, you are lost."
    "How better to distract Engibil than to embroil him with Enim-
    hursag?" Sharur returned. "And Enimhursag is a foolish god. He is a
    stupid god. We have seen it in the way the Imhursagut fought the
    men of our city. We have seen it in the way our caravans constantly

    




    226
    
    -b2k,-R,Ry TuRTUeOovc
    
    outdo those from Imhursag. We have seen it in the way I went into
    Imhursag and came out safe again. What I have done once, I can do
    twice."
     "Enimhursag is a foolish god: true," Ereshguna said. "He is a s lid
    god: true. But he is a god, and he has the strength of a god. Remember
    this. You went into Imhursag and came out safe again- true. Enim-
    hursag nearly slew you, though you disguised yourself as a Zuabi mer-
    chant. Remember this, too."
     "What's this? A Gibli pretending to be a man of my city?"' Habbaza
    exclaimed. "I am insulted. Zuabu is insulted." His eyes sparkled. -
     Ereshguna ignored him, continuing, "If you go to Enimhursag this
    time, you will go as a Gibli. If you go to the god of Imhursag t4w
    time, you will go as a man of the city he hates. Why should he n6t
    slay you out of hand?"
     "He will hear me first, Father," Sharur said. "When has a Gibli
    ever fled to Imhursag? That alone will make the god of Imhur-
    sag curious enough to hear me. When has a Gibli ever begged Im,
    hursag to strike against his own city? That will make the god V
    Imhursag glad enough to do it without looking
    Gibli might say such an outlandish thing."
     Slowly, Habbazu said, "Master merchant's son, though the risk is
    real, as your father has said, I think your words may hold much wis,
    
     Ereshguna was not yet ready to give up: "Son, would you start a
    war between Gibil and Imhursag without leave from Kimash the lu
    gal?"
     "I would," Sharur replied without hesitation. "Kimash the lugal
    has alerted Engibil and his priests against us."
     "You would go to Imhursag, knowing you are now free
    Ningal?" his father enquired. "You would throw away the chance
    do what you have longed to do above all else?"
     That was a stronger question than any Ereshguna had yet ask
    Now Sharur did hesitate. At last, though, he said, "I would. Engi
    tried to disrupt my wedding Ningal over this cup; what other reaslon
    could the god have had? Then, again on account of it, he reversed
    his course. We must have it. I shall return. I shall wed Ningal."
     "I see I cannot dissuade you," Ereshguna said with a sigh. "You
    
    dom."
    
    too closely at why

    




    16
    
    BETWEEM TbC RIVERS
    
    227
    
         a man. You have a man's will. Go on to lmhursag, then, if that is
         what you reckon you must do. I shall stay behind, and pray all follows
         as you hope.11
         Pray to whom? Sharur wondered. No one in Gibil but lmhursaggi
         slaves would pray to Enimhursag. Engibil would hope he failed. The
         great gods of the Alashkurrut would hope he failed. Very likely, the
         great gods of Kudurru, the gods of sun and moon, sky and storm and
         underworld, would also hope he failed. That left ... no one. Sharur
         ffelt very much alone.
          "Good fortune go with you," Habbazu said. Sharur wondered if he
         meant it. The thief would have done better for himself, would have
    J    01beyed the orders of his god, had he never encountered Sharur.
         Whether they were sincere or not, though, Sharur gladly accepted
         Ih
          is wishes for good fortune. He would need as much as he could find.

    





    




    8
    
    A peasant grubbing at the ground with a stone-headed mattock
    looked up from his unending labor as Sharur strode north along the
    path. "Watch where you're going," the peasant warned. "Imhursaggi
    land starts just beyond that next big canal there." He pointed. "The
    Imhursagut aren't fond of men from Gibil, either, not even a little
    they're not."
     I know that," Sharur answered, and kept walking.L-The -oeasant took an especially savage swipe at the dirt. "City
        he muttered, barety toud enough for Sharur to hear. "Has to
    
     city man. Men from the city never listen to anybody."
    He would probably be happier if Engibil told him what to do, Sharur
    thought. He doesn't seem to be very good at thinking for himself. Every-
    thing that had happened in Gibil the past few generations-metal-
    working, writing, the rise of rulers who were merely mortal-was of
    no account to this man, and to thousands like him. Nothing that
    happened outside his own little village mattered to him, or to his
    neighbors.
    Sharur came to the canal. The peasants working in the fields on
    the other side were Imhursagut. By looks, they were indistinguishable
    from the Giblut, save that rather more of them went altogether na-
    ked, being too poor to wear even a kilt of linen or wool.
     Stripping off his own kilt, his sandals, and his hat, Sharur waded
    out into the canal. The muddy water was warm as blood. He did not
    know if he would have to swim in the middle of the canal; he had
    r come this way before. The water came up to his shoulders, but
    no higher. He had no trouble keeping his clothes dry.
     He stepped up onto the northern, Imhursaggi, bank of the canal
     and stood there, naked and dripping. The breeze cooled him as it

    




    230
    
    b&RRY TURTLE00ve
    
    dried the water on his body. Only after he was dry did he don hi~
    hat and his sandals and his kilt again. By the time he had it roun4,
    his middle, he was surrounded by Imhursagut.
     Some had mattocks, some had digging sticks, some
    
    but their bare hands. All of them looked ready to beat Sharur to
    death. Their expressions were frighteningly alike, as if someone had
    used a cylinder seal to stamp out a long row of identical faces.
     "You are a Gibli," one of them said. "You are an intruder. You
    an invader. Why do you come to trouble the land of Imhursag? W;
    do you come to disturb the peace of Enimhursag? Answer at onct
    lest we tear you to pieces. Answer this instant, lest we smash
    down."
     "I do not come to trouble the land of Imhursag," Sharur answerN
    his first lie with his first words. "I do not come to disturb the peac
    of Enimhursag. I come to escape the city of Gibil, which has falle
    into chaos. I come to escape the god of Gibil, who has gone -'
     That made the Imhursaggi peasants stare and mutter among "M
                                           thl
    selves. Enimhursag did not look out of all their eyes all the time;'
    the moment, they were merely men, trying to make sense of the wot
    as men will.
     But the fellow who had threatened Shatur with tearing and smas
    ing now took on the look he had seen in the trader from the I
    hursaggi caravan, the look that said Enimhursag was present in I
    mind. He spoke slowly, as if listening to the god before uttering,~
    words: "What nonsense do you speak? When I look into the 1A
    Gibil, I see everything as it has always been. When I look into I
    land the Giblut stole from me, I see them doing as they have alw
    done."
     "In the farms around the city, everything is as it has always beq
    Sharur agreed, and he knew he was speaking the truth there. "In,'
    land you can see, the Giblut do as they have always done. Im
    Engibil has gone mad, as I say."
     "Giblut are liars. They suck in ties with their mothers' milk,'!i
    imhursag answered through the peasant. "What lie do you give
    now?"
     "I give you no lie, god of Imhursag," Sharur replied, lying.
                                          I J,

    




    13C-TWECM TbC RIVERS
    
    231
    
    me. Hear me speak truth. Judge for yourself. Engibil had in his hands,
    in his heart, an oath of mine. He would not let it go. He refused to
    let it go."
     Out of the peasant's mouth, Enimhursag laughed a great laugh.
    "Why should he let it go? He is a god-not much of a god, being
    Engibil, but a god. You are a man-not much of a man, being a Gibli,
    but a man. He owes you nothing. You owe him everything."
     Sharur bowed. "Let it be as you say, god of Imhursag. But hear me.
    Hear me speak truth. After the god of Gibil did as I said, hear what
    he did. After the god of Gibil did as I said, he summoned me to his
    temple and gave me back the oath he held in his hand, in his heart.
    He let it go. Is the god mad, or is he not?"
     "Giblut are liars," Enimhursag repeated. "I do not believe what
    you say. I cannot believe what you say. No god would give back that
    
    which he had refused to give back."
     Sharur took a deep breath. "Look into my mind, god of Imhursag,"
    he said, knowing the risk he ran. He had not expected Enimhursag
    to be quite so dubious. "Look into my mind, god of the Imhursagut.
    See if Engibil held my oath and would not let it go. See if Engibil
    held my oath and then did let it go. Look for those two things. See
    if I speak truth."
     Out through the eyes of the peasant poured Enimhursag's power.
    Sharur did not resist it. Sharur could not resist it. If Enimhursag chose
    Ouse that power to paw through everything in his mind, everything
    would be lost. But he had suggested to the god what he should look
    for. He put those things at the front of his mind, so Enimhursag might
    easily find them.
     Find them Enimhursag did. "It is so!" the god cried through the
    peasant's lips. The other peasants exclaimed in astonishment at hear-
    ing their god agree with a man of Gibil. Sharur stood very still, trying
    not to think of Enimhursag pawing through the rest of his mind.
     Trying not to think about something, Sharur discovered, was like
     trying not to breathe. He could, with great effort, do it for a short
     stretch of time, but after that the urge grew more and more demand-
     ing until ...
     Enimhursag withdrew. Sharur felt the god leaving his mind, as he

    




    232
    
    bzLRRV TuRT-L4eOov4e
    
    had felt his body leaving the water of the canal. "It is so!" Enimhursal
    repeated. "You have told me the truth. Truly Engibil must be a
    run mad upon the earth."
     "So we of Gibil believe," Sharur said, not inviting Enimhursal",
    search his mind this time. "So we of Gibil fear."
     "Men should fear the gods," Enimhursag said. "You of Gibil shoi
    fear Engibil. You of Gibil fear Engibil too little. But men should)
    gods because gods are gods, not because gods are mad."
     "Even so," Sharur said.
     VAien the peasant through whom Enimhursag spoke nodd
    Sharur had all he could do not to fall to his knees before the tou
    unwashed Imhursaggi. The god spoke again: "And what would
    have me do about the madness of Engibil?"
     "Rescue us!" Sharur cried with all the passion he could mustel
    the passion his training as a merchant enabled him to counterfe
    well. "Muster your valiant warriors. Come down and drive fron
    city the god who is now a terror to it. The Giblut will welconu
    as lord. The Giblut will welcome you as liberator, freeing them
    a master on whom they may no longer rely."
     If Enimhursag was searching his mind at this moment, hi
    ruined, and he knew it. But he had read the god of Imhursag ri,,
    The eyes of the peasant through whom the god chose to speak g'
    like the sun. "Vengeance shall be mine!" he cried in a great
    "Vengeance on Gibil shall be mine. Vengeance on the Giblu
    be mine. Vengeance on Engibil shall be mine. The land Git
    Giblut, and Engibil have stolen from me shall be mine. And
    rest of the land of Gibil shall be mine as welU,
     The rest of the Imhursaggi peasants surrounding Sharur casi
    selves down on the ground before the one who for the timi
    embodied their god. They shouted out their delight in the
    Enimhursag had chosen for them and their city. How could
    otherwise, in a land where the god could look into their he
    look out through their eyes whenever he chose, and where
    quently chose to do just that?
     One of them asked, "Great god, source of our life, what a
    do with this Gibli who brought you this news you relish?

    




    BETWEEM TbC RIVERS
    
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    kews not been to your liking, we should have slain him, but what
      we to do with him now? What will you do with him now?"
     Enimhursag might almost have been asking himself the question,
    as a man might ask himself a question while thinking aloud. Through
    the lips of the peasant he had chosen, he replied, "Take him to your
    village. Give him bread. Give him onions. Give him beer. Give him
    wine. Give him, for his pleasure, the loveliest of your maidens. I
    would reward him greatly. I shall reward him greatly, and more greatly
    yet after Gibil is in my hands."
     Sharur glanced from the peasant in whom the god dwelt to his
    comrades. That Enimhursag had ordered them to give him food and
    drink-well and good. That their god had ordered them to give him
    not merely a woman but a maiden ... How would they take to that?
     "We shall obey in all things, as we always do," one of them mur-
    mured, and the rest nodded. They neither looked nor sounded angry
    or grudging. If the god ordered it, they accepted it. Sharur was glad
    Enimhursag was not looking into his mind at that moment.
     "It is good," Enimhursag said, accepting the obedience as no less
    than his due. "Yes, I shall reward this Gibli more greatly yet after his
    city is in my hands. I shall not rule there as I rule here, not at first.
    I shall not reach into all men's minds. I shall not reach into all men's
    hearts."
      "What then, great god?" Sharur was curious to learn what Enim-
     hursag planned to do if everything went as he hoped.
     "I shall need time to tame the wild men of Gibil," the god replied.
     His plans filled his thoughts, and he was not shy about setting them
     forth. While he spoke of himself and what he wanted, he would not
     be troubling himself with Sharur and what Sharur wanted. He went
     on, "The wild men of Gibil have lived too long under the wild god,
     Engibil. The foolish god let them run every which way, as goats will
     if the goatherd sleeps. They cannot at once be made to obey and
     hearken as they should."
       Sharur nodded. From the god's point of view, all that made good
      sense. Were Sharur a god planning to subdue a restless, restive city
      of men, he would have looked at the difficulties facing him the same
      way,
    
    do
    se
    
    re,
    
      1i ilia
     di
    
      ,!p I

    




    234
    
    bwRRy TuRTUeoove
    
     Engibil continued, "This being so, I shall set a man over them. I
    shall instruct the man, and the man will instruct the people. He will
    be my ensi. Perhaps his son will be my ensi. His grandson will be my
    slave, as all men in Gibil, tamed from their wildness, will then be my
    slaves."
     Now Sharur had to make himself nod.
    Gibil, such a scheme might well eventually subject the Giblut to him,
    Realizing that made Sharur remember anew what a dangerous game
    he was playing.
     The peasant through whose lips the god spoke thrust out a
    finger. "And you, man of Gibil, you shall be my first ensi in Gibil
    shall instruct you. You will instruct the people. The riches of Gil)
    shall be yours for the taking. The women of Gibil shall be yours for
    the taking. Did I not say I should reward you greatly?"
     "Great god, you did," Sharur replied, more than a little dizzily.
    Kimash the lugal had offered him a daughter, which would have ti
    him to the ruling house of Gibil. Now Enimhursag promised to m
    him the head of the ruling house of Gibil-the chief slave in a gre
    house of slaves. Enimhursag did not bother to pretend otherwise.
    god did not see the need to pretend otherwise.
     "You have earned this reward," Enimhursag said. He-in the b
    of the peasant he inhabited-turned to the other peasants. "He
    earned this reward. Take him to your village and make him glad."'
    
    If Enimhursag did conquer
    
    In the lands Enimhursag ruled, men obeyed their god. So Sharur had
    always heard. So Sharur had seen when he went into Imhursag in
    the guise of a Zuabi merchant. So Sharur saw now, when the peasots,
    following the orders Enimhursag had given them, took hi___ _0 Air
    village and methodically made him glad.
     These were men who, when he had waded across the canal m
    the land of Gibil into their land, had been ready to tear him to pieces,
    But, because their god accepted him, they now accepted hirn as,
    A,
      -completely, without hesitation, without reservation. s e7
                                           , th
    well
    walked back toward their village, they chattered and bantered with
    him as if he were one of their own. Because Enimhursag accept
    him, he was one of their own.

    




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     The village might have been a peasant village outside of Gibil: a
    cluster of houses, a few of the finer ones built of mud brick, the rest
    of bundles of reeds and sticks. Ducks and pigs and chickens and naked
    children roamed the streets, all of them making a terrific racket.
     Women came out of the houses to stare when some of their men
    returned from the fields at an unexpected time. 'Whispers ran through
     m, a armed whispers: "A stranger. They have a stranger with
    em." Some of the women disappeared as quickly as they had come
    t. Others stared and stared. Sharur wondered how long it had been
    since the last stranger came into their village He wondered if another
    stranger had ever come into their village.
     Loudly, the peasant through whom Enimhursag had spoken said,
    "This is a stranger whom Enimhursag delights to honor. This is a
    stranger whom the great god intends to reward greatly. This is a
    stranger whom the god commanded us to take to our village and
    make glad. We are to give him bread. We are to give him onions.
    We are to give him beer. We are to give him wine. We are to give
    for his pleasure, the loveliest of our maidens." He clapped his
    . "Now, let these things be done."
  And those things were done, exactly as Enimhursag had said they
        be. The women of the village brought Shatur bread. They
    brought him onions. The bread was freshly baked, and good. The
    onions filled his mouth with their strong flavor. When he asked for
    salt fish to go with the bread and onions, the women muttered among
    themselves. One of them said. "The god did not speak of salt fish.
    We shall make you glad as the god bade us make you glad."
      "Salt fish would make me glad," Sharur said.
      "We shall make you glad as the god bade us make you glad," the
     woman repeated. Sharur got no salt fish.
    I They brought him beer. They brought him wine. The beer was
    tasty. The wine, as he would have expected in a peasant village, left
    hands
      uld
    
     a good deal to be desired. He drank a polite cup of it, then went back
     to the beer. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the villagers
     worriedly muttering again.
      "You have brought me beer, as the god bade you," he said, hiding
      6 amusement. I have drunk of your beer. You have brought me
      ine, as the god bade you. I have drunk of your wine. You have made

    




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    b3,R-RV -ruwrLeOove
    
    me glad, as the god bade you. I am made glad. The god will be please
    with you." The villagers relaxed.
     Sharur did not ask them to bring him the loveliest of their maidens.
    Had they forgotten that part of Enimhursag's instructions, he wou
    not have minded. He still worried that the villagers would rese~*
    such an order, even from their god. He also worried that the maiden
    would resent it.                           I
     But, after he had eaten and drunk, the peasant through whom
    Enimhursag had spoken came up to him, leading a pretty young
    woman by the hand. "This is my daughter, Munnabtu," he said, "the
    loveliest of our maidens. As the god ordained, I bring her to you for
    your pleasure."
     Her eyes were modestly cast down to the ground. Sharur could not
    see the expression on her face. He said, "If your daughter, Munnabtu,
    does not wish this, it need not be."
     She looked up then, her eyes wide with
    
                           astonishment. "The gi
    has ordained it," she exclaimed. "What the god has ordained here
    shall be. What the god has ordained here must be."     I
     When Sharur heard that, he knew he had not understood how
    completely Enimhursag ruled the people of Imhursag and its sur,
    rounding villages. He also knew he would cause more trouble
    refusing Munnabtu than by taking her. And, if she was not quite]
    lovely as some of the loveliest women in Gibil, neither would taki
    her work a hardship on him. Far from it.   1
     "What Enimhursag has ordained here shall be," he agreed. Mu
    nabtu smiled at him. So did her father. He made himself smile bac
    Making himself smile back proved not too hard.
     The villagers cleared out one of their huts for Munnabtu and him.
    Several women brought in blankets and rush mats. They giggled as
    they went out the door and closed it behind them. That helped ease
    Sharur's mind; women in Gibil would have done the same thing.
     With the door closed, it was gloomy and stuffy inside the hut. "Let
    us begin," Munnabtu said forthrightly, and pulled her tunic dff ovei
    her head. Her body, high-breasted, with a narrow waist and broac
    hips, had no flaw Sharur could find. She lay down and waited
    to join her.                          'I'

    




    I
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    BETWEEM T    UVERS
    
     He wasted no time in doing just that. Because he was a stranger
    to her, because she did not lie down beside him out of love, he
    expected her to be still and let him do what he would, as the Im-
    hursaggi slave woman was in the habit of doing. But, as his hands
    roamed over her body, she sighed and pressed herself against him.
    Her mouth was eager against his.
     "What Enimhursag has ordained here is sweet," she murmured,
    and then he saw that, because the god had ordained it, she gave
    herself to it with her whole heart, as the Imhursaggi slave had on
    that one occasion when Sharur went into her in fulfillment of his
    VOW.
     Munnabtu sighed again when Sharur's mouth, following his hands,
    moved down her belly toward the triangle of midnight hair between
    her legs. Presently, she gasped and arched her back and urged him
    on with more murmurs that were not quite words.
     Her legs spread wide. He poised himself between them. \Vhen he
    entered her, he discovered she was truly a maiden. She stiffened and
    grimaced. "You hurt me," she said, sudden fear in her eyes.
     He drew back a little, though he wanted nothing so much as to
    go forward. "I will be gentle," he promised, and returned to the barrier
    'he would have to break.
     Munnabtu grimaced again, and made as if to pull away from him.
    Then something in her face ... changed. Sharur could not have de-
     scri e
      ib d it more precisely than that. For a moment, Enimhursag looked
     out at him through h
     "Go on. All will be well."
      He almost pulled away then. Never had he imagined coupling with
     a woman in whom the god dwelt. But her thighs clasped his flanks;
     her legs caged him. Instead of pulling back, he did go on, and all was
    
    er eyes. In a voice not quite her own, she said,
    
    well. Herself again, so far as Sharur could tell, Munnabtu gasped
    when he fully fleshed himself in her, but she was no longer afraid.
    She gasped again, a little later, in a different way, and squeezed Sharur
    so tightly that he groaned in his pleasure and spurted forth his seed.
     She was bleeding a little when he withdrew, but it did not trouble
     r. Pleasure suffused her features, pleasure and ... something else?
     #Sharur could not be sure. "The god helped me," she said. "En,

    




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    b&RRY TuRTLe0ove-
    
    imhursag helped me." Was it altogether her voice? Again, Sharur
    could not be sure.
     He agreed nonetheless: "Yes, the god helped you." He could
    scarcely deny it.
     She looked up at him from eyes shining under half-lowered eyelids.
    "And you helped me, man whom the great god ordered me to make
    glad. You made me glad in turn, though the god did not order you
    to do that. You could have taken your own pleasure without caring
    for mine."
     "A man has more pleasure when a woman shares it," Sharur said.
     "Ah." Munnabtu stretched. It was the sort of stretch that made
    him try to watch every part of her at once. It was intended to be that
    sort of stretch, for when it was done she sat up and asked, "Would
    you have more pleasure? Would you give more pleasure?"
     Sharur's manhood stirred. Knowing he could take her again, he
    
    said, "Are you sure? You have just had your maidenhead broken. YoLi
    may take more pain than pleasure if we go again so soon."
     "I do not think that will be so, but if it is-" She shrugged. Her
    firm, dark-tipped breasts bounced only a little. "If it is, Enimhursag
    will make it right. The god watches over me."
     They began again. This time, Sharur could not tell whether or not
    Enimhursag aided Munnabtu. Whether the god of Imhursag aided
    the woman or not, she enjoyed the passage as much as he did, and
    he enjoyed it a great deal.
     "Have I made you glad, as the god ordered me to do?" she asked,
    smiling up at him as they lay together covered in sweat, their bodies
    still joined. It was not the smile of a god. It was the smile of a woman,
    a woman who knew the answer before she asked the question.
     "You have made me glad," Sharur said. "You have also made me
    tired." He took his weight off his elbows and flopped down limply
    onto her. She squawked and laughed and pushed him away.
     She pulled on her tunic before he redonned his kilt. Picking up
    the blanket on which they had lain together, she went out of the
    hut. Sharur followed a moment later, as Munnabtu faced shouts kom
    the village: "The stranger whom Enimhursag bade us make glad, is
    he made glad?"

    




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                I )
     I am made glad, Sharur said.
     "He is made glad," Munnabtu agreed, and displayed the blanket
    with the small bloodstain on it as proof Everyone cheered.
    
    Sharur would have been content-Sharur, in fact, would have been
    delighted-to stay for some time in the village near the border with
    Gibli land. That did not come to pass. After breakfast the next mom,
    ing (bread, onions, beer, and wine: the peasants obeyed Enimhursag
    in every particular and went beyond his instructions in no particular),
    the god of the lmhursagut again spoke to him through Munnabtu's
    father: "Gibli who warned me that Engibil runs mad in his city, you
    will now journey to my city, to see how I make ready to repay him
    for the many affronts and humiliations he has afforded me This man
    whose mouth I use shall be your guide."
     "As you order, great god, so shall it be," Sharur replied, bowing to
    the peasant and to the god who inhabited him. He did not want to
    go to lmhursag. He would have a harder time escaping lmhursaggi
    soil from the central city than from regions near the border. But he
    
     He also wished Enimhursag had chosen a different guide; he would
    sooner have traveled with someone other than the father of the
    maiden he had deflowered the day before. But the peasant, whose
    name, he teamed, was Aratta, still seemed content that he and Mun-
    nabtu had followed the god's wishes.
   ~11 When Enimhursag had withdrawn from him, Aratta said, I will
    bring bread and onions. I will bring beer and wine. Thus you will be
    glad on the road to Imhursag."
     "Thus I will be glad on the road to Imhursag," Sharur agreed re-
    signedly. He had come to the conclusion that arguing with lmhur-
    sagut was pointless, especially when they were convinced they were
    acting their god required them to act.
     He and Aratta were far from the only travelers on the road to
    lmhursag. As the day wore along, more and more men joined them,
    so that they walked as if in the middle of a dust storm that never
    subsided. Some of the men carried clubs ith heads of stone or, rarelv

    




    I
    
    240          -b&RRY TURTLebovc=
    
    bronze. Some carried spears. Some carried bows and wore quivers on
    their backs. About every other man with a spear or club also bore a
    shield of wicker or leather.
     "Imhursag arms for war," Aratta said proudly. "Enimhursag arms
    for war. How the Giblut will cower! How Engibil will tremble!"
     "Imhursag arms for war," Sharur echoed. By echoing one part of
    what his guide said, he let the man-and the god who might be, who
    probably was, listening through him-gain the impression he was
    echoing all parts of what Aratta said.
     Gibil's peasant levies were not much different from Imhursag's
    peasant levies. Sharur did not think his people would cower. He did
    not think his god would tremble. He did hope Engibil would notice.
     He came under the walls of Imhursag a little before noon the A
    day. What he saw outside the city convinced him that ~ngibil woul,
    indeed noticed what Enimhursag purposed hurling against Gibil. Al-
    ready a large encampment had sprung into being, an encampment
    that grew larger by the moment as men came in to it from the coun-
    tryside and out to it from the city. With so many men moving busily
    through it, it put Sharur in mind of an anthill: a thought he careful[-
    kept to himself.
    
                                              A
     Through Aratta, Enimhursag said, "See the might Imhursag bri
    to bear against the god run mad. See the might Imhursagbrings
    bear under the god who is the shepherd of his people."
     "I see," Sharur said, and see he did. Not only was EnirnOsag
    summoning the peasant levies who would, for the most part, spread
    over Gibil's fields to rob and bum, he was also gathering together
    the men who would fight battles in the van. Some were his priests,
    striding through the camp with bronze swords and bronze,headed
    axes, helmets of bronze or of bronze and leather on their shaved
    heads, corselets of bronze scales over leather protecting their vitals
    Some were Imhursaggi nobles, also armored, who rode in fo
    wheeled chariots drawn by donkeys, from which they would ply
                                             n.uimm
                                            J's
    
                                            a".
    
                                            I
                                            t
                                             1
                                             he
    Giblut with spears and arrows.
     "See the might a ruling god - can bring to bear when he
    chooses," Enimhursag boasted. "See the force that will blow '
    the Giblut as the wind blows away chaff at harvest time. ~e:wt
    fierce, bold warriors before whom Engibil shall tremble. See I

    




    13ETWEC-M TbC RIV6RS
    
    241
    
         strong, brave warriors who will course Engibil as the hounds
         course an antelope."
         I see the might, great god," Sharur said. I see the force. I see the
         warriors." He took a deep breath. "Truly it will be fine to have men
         who know and honor the strength and majesty of their god come
         into Gibil once more."
         Had Enimhursag peered into his heart at that moment to learn
         whether he spoke truth, all his hopes would have crashed to the
         ground like a mud-brick house collapsing when its roof got too heavy.
         But Enirnhursag, as Sharur had thought he would, had become con-
           ced S arur's story of Gibil in disarray and Engibil mad was so
         ause he thought that was how things in the neighboring city
         s ould be, and no longer saw the need of examining the words of the
         Gibli who had come to Imhursag to bring him such wonderful news.
         Through Aratta, Enimhursag said, "Come and be made known to
         my warriors. Let them see the man who will rule Gibil in my name
         after they drive the raving Engibil from the temple his presence now
         profanes. Let them see the ensi through whom I shall rule as the great
         god of Gibil."
           I obey," Sharur said, which was a reply always acceptable to En-
          imhursag. Sharur obeyed with something less than a heart full of
          gladness; the more who knew him here, the more he was kept at the
          center of Irnhursag's army, the more difficult would his escape be.
           But Aratta took his arm and led him through the milling hosts of
          Imhursag, crying out with Enimhursag's authority in his voice to clear
          a path for the man who had caused the god to assemble his army. He
          urged Sharur up onto a small swell of ground and went up there with
          him, calling to the growing army: "Warriors, see the man who will
          . le Gibil in Enimhursag's name after you drive the raving Engibil
          fiom the temple his presence now profanes. See the ensi through
          whom Enirnhursag will rule as the great god of Gibil."
          '~ur the assembled warriors cheered. The peasant levies gaped at
         ec
         sh
 ~a a h
           p t
           urged
           him,
           le C
           from
           whoro
    
          Sharur, as peasant levies throughout the land between the rivers ha-
          bitually gaped on the rare occasions when they saw something new
          and unfamiliar. Enimhursag's priests examined him with eyes as sharp
          as those of hunting hawks. And the nobles of Imhursag sized him up
          "as a potential rival. He could see that in the calculating expressions

    




    242
    
    b3,RRY TURTLCOOVIE
    
    they carefully hid-but not fast enough-when his gaze lit on them
    He did a much better job of hiding his own smile. Even in Imhursag,
    some folk looked to their own advantage, not merely that of the god.
     He knew he would have to say something, with so many4
    staring so expectantly. Taking a deep breath, he called out in a loud
        "Imhursagut, may you gain what is rightfully yours in the com.
    voice:
    ing war against Gibil. May Enimhursag gain all the revenge righd* J
    his in the coming fight against Engibil." He suspected he and
    had differing opinions on how much that was, but did not feel in*_1
    clined to go into detail over the differences.
     The Imhursagut took his words as he had hoped they would. TheJ
    peasants cheered once more. The priests nodded in satisfaction-,
    took that satisfaction to mean Enimhursag was also satisfied w'
    what he said. And the nobles looked as if they had bitten into plu
    not yet ripe enough to be sweet.
     Through Aratta, Enimhursag cried, "We march
    
                                    against Gibil!
    shall overthrow the Giblut! We shall cast down Engibil! We shall
    liberate the city to the south from its mad god, who lets its men
    wild."
     Now the cheers were loud and unending. When the god 11ok
    those he ruled agreed with and approved of what he said. it C,
    hardly have been otherwise, as he helped guide them toward
    such agreement and approval.
     "In two days' time, we march against Gibil! " Enimhurs
    The roar from his warriors left Sharur's ears stunned an
    if he had been caught in the center of a thunderstorm.
    led the peasants in a hymn of praise to the might and wisdom 41il
    splendor of their god.
     Giblut going off to war praised Engibil, too, and asked for hisl
    against their foes. But no Gibli since the time of Igigi-and probably
                                             K
    
                                        sag shou~te
                                             M
                                       d ringinifig
                                        The pnA
    
    since long before the time of Igigi-would ever have sung, as the
    Imhursagut sang, "With you, great god, we can do anything. Without
    you, great god, we can do nothing." Giblut took too much plide-
    aye, and too much pleasure, too-in doing things for themselves to
    think they were impotent when they did not lean on their god am
    feeble old man leaned on his stick.
    
    'I

    




    BETWEEM TbE RIVERS
    
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     "When we cross into Gibil, the Giblut shall flee before us," -En-
    imhursag said to Sharur. "When we cross into Gibil, Engibil shall
    not stand against us."
     "So you have said, great god," Sharur replied.
    "So I have said," Enimhursag replied complacently. "So shall it
    e, for 1, a god, have said it." He took Sharur's silence for agreement.
    
    In two days' time, the army of Imhursag marched on Gibil. Sharur
    marched at its head, still accompanied by Aratta, through whom
    Enimhursag had chosen to speak for the time being. Behind him
    came the nobles in their slow, heavy chariots and the warrior-priests
    with their armor and axes and swords. Behind them, eating their dust,
    trudged the peasant levies who made up the bulk of the army.
     More peasants joined Imhursag's army as it moved southwards.
    Some came in from the west, some from the east, and some, breathless
    with exertion, caught up with the host from behind, from out of the
    north. "Never have we gone to war with so great a host," Enimhursag
    declared through Aratta's lips. "Never have we gone to war with so
    valiant a host."
    "They are as many as the ears of barley nodding in the fields,"
    Sharur said, like any wise merchant quick to agree with the one in
    whose company he found himself. "Surely they wilt prove as valiant
    in battle as so many lions."
    Aratta's lips shaped a smile. It was not quite a man's smile. It was
    the god's smile, written on the flesh of a man. Seeing it made Sharur's
    own flesh creep. Despite the effort it took, he smiled back.
    He looked back over his shoulder at Imhursag's army. Enimhursag
    had believed him and acted on that belief even more strongly and
    quickly than he had hoped. Uppermost in his mind was the question
     3f how he would escape the army when the time came. He felt like
     a hare in a pot, waiting in the market to be sold as someone's supper.
      "Are they not splendid?" Enimhursag said. "Are they not magnif-
     icent? Are they not formidably armed and equipped?" The god
     paused, looking at Sharur through Aratta's eyes. Such moments al-
     ways made Sharur fight to hold in his fear: would Enimhursag be

    




    244
    
    bNRRY TURTI-Coove
    
    .J
    
    content to look at him, or would the god look into him as well? This
    time, Enimhursag was looking at him, no more. The god went on,
    ((You) Gibli, are not formidably armed."
     "That is so." Sharur touched the bronze knife that hung on his
    belt. "I have no other weapon besides this."
    "This should not be," Enimhursag said. A moment later, one 01f
    his warriors came trotting forward and pressed into Sharur's hands a
    bronze-headed mace. Enimhursag went on, "Now you have a proper
    weapon with which to chastise the wild folk and mad god of yon
    city."                                     i
     "Great god, you are generous. You are forethoughtful. You leave
    me in your debt." Sharur would have preferred a sword. If Erumhursa&
    had chosen to give him a mace, though, he would take it with
    complaint. It was a better weapon than he had had before.
     "I do indeed leave you in my debt," the god said. "When Gibil is
    mine, you shall repay me. When Gibil is mine, Gibil shall repay me,
    Gibil has owed me for long, for long."
     Aratta's eyes blazed. Sharur looked down at the ground. What he
    felt now was awe, not fear. Seeing the power of the god in the man
    reminded him he was truly a wild Gibil madman to play this game.
     Enimhursag's army moved no more swiftly than its slowest soldiers,
    The god halted the host welt before sunset, too, so that his men might
    encamp far enough from the border to keep the Giblut from noticing
    anything out of the ordinary. That was sound generalship of the most
    elementary sort. Sharur was disappointed to find the most elernen
    sound generalship from Enimhursag.
     Once in camp, Imhursag's peasant levies acted as the peasant lev,
    of Gibil would have acted: they made themselves as comfortable as
    they could, got food and drink, and then either fell asleep or sat
    around the fires talking and singing.    I
     The nobles slept in pavilions of wool and linen; slaves fanned them'
    to keep them cool in the warm night. A few did not sleep, but gath,
    ered round Sharur, questioning him about the roads down toward
    Gibil and about the opposition they might face. "The Giblut have
    invented nothing new since we faced them last, have they?" oni
    the nobles asked anxiously. "I never did see such people for inve
    
    I
    
    new things."

    




    BETWEEM TI)C- RIVC-RS
    
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     "No, they have no new weapons," Sharur answered truthfully. The
    noble let out a sigh of relief.
     One of Enimhursag's shaven,headed priests gave the fellow a re-
    proving look. "The ingenuity of the Giblut is of no account. They
    are only men, toying with the things of men. We have the power of
    die god with us."
     "Do not sneer at the things of men," the noble returned. "The
    grandfather of my grandfather died by the sword in a war against
    Gibil, back in the days when the Giblut had such things of men and
    we had them not."
    "We have them now," the priest said. "Enimhursag has ordained
     t we should have them, and so we He missed the point entirely. The noble rolled his eyes, under,
              missed the point entirely. But most of the other
              and Aratta in whom Enimhursag was
              elling nodded in approval at the priest's words. Sharur had noted
              before that Imhursagut thought more slowly than Giblut, not least
              because their god was doing part of their thinking for them. He saw
              it again here.
     And the noble, who also saw it, bowed his head and said no more.
     Most of the Giblut whom Sharur knew would have gone on arguing.
     Justified or not, Giblut had confidence in their own wits. Confidence
     in their own wits was a large part of what made them Giblut.
     Aratta lay down on the ground and fell asleep, as if he were still
     no more t an a peasant. No. Sharur stared. Aratta floated a couple
     of digits above the ground, and slept on a cushion of air. When
     mosquitoes tried to land on him, they could not, but buzzed away
     ,insatisfied. And when Sharur lay down, he discovered he did not
     touch the ground, either. Enimhursag granted him the same soft rest
     as he did to the man in whom he had chosen to dwell for the time
     being. Nor did insects bite him. He passed as luxurious a night as
     an~, in all his life.
       The rising sun woke him. Beside him, Aratta was already awake
      and alert. Perhaps the peasant woke quickly every day. Perhaps, too,
      having the god looking out through his eyes roused him to early
      alertness.
       Through Aratta, Enimhursag said, "Today, we cross into the land

    




    A
    
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    the Giblut stole from Imhursag. Today, we cross into the land Engibi
    stole from me. Today, that land returns to its rightful owner."
     "Have you sent scouts into the land the Giblut rule?" Sharur aske
    "Have you sent spies into the land that once belonged to Imhursag?"
     Enimhursag shook Aratta's head. "I have not done this. In t
    land where I rule, I can at my will see through any man's eyes, he
    through any man's ears. I can reach beyond my borders where
    t
    gods of the lands are not my enemies. But in the land of he ra~v
    Engibil, I am as one blind and deaf."
     "Ah." Sharur nodded, remembering how the family's Imhurs
    slave woman mourned the absence of Enimhursag from her spirit.
    said, "If it please you, great god, I can go into Gibil, scout ahead, and
    then come back and tell you what I see. If an Imhursaggi tried this,,
    he would give himself away, but I would not betray myself, having
    been born a Gibli."
     "Yes, you were born a Gibli," Enimhursag said, as if remin i
    himself. Sharur was acutely conscious it was the god studying him
    through Aratta's eyes. If Enimhursag did more than study him-'
    But, after that measuring stare, the god went on, ityes, go into the
    land Engibit took from me. Accompanying wilt be the noble Nasi-
    bugashi. He too will scout a ' head. You were born a Gibli. Youwif,
    protect him, so he will not betray himself."
     "It shall be as you say." Sharur bowed his head.
     "Of course it shall." Enimhursag allowed himself no too
    doubt.
     Nasibugashi proved to be the noble who had wondered whethei
                                              d~
    
                                            a
                                            Hie
    
    the Giblut would bring any new weapons to the war. Sharur jud
    him a shrewd choice on Enimhursag's part. He seemed more his
    man, less drunk on the power of the god, than most Imhursagut.
    would make him better able to
    from his city might have been.
     "Let us be off," he said to Sharur.
    
                        act on his own in Gibil than
    
                           "Let us be moving. The f
    ahead of the army we get, the deeper into Gibil we can go, theim
    we can see, the more word we can bring back to the warriors and
    god.
     "These things are true," Sharur said. Was Enimhursag looking out
    through N asibugashi's eyes, too? Sharur had trouble telling, f~r mo 1

    




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    so than he had with Aratta. Perhaps Enimhursag's presence was
    lighter in the noble. Or perhaps Nasibugashi had more personality of
    his own than did the peasant, making Enimhursag's presence harder
    to discern.
    
    As Nasibugashi had urged, Sharur and he hurried out ahead of the
    host of Imhursag. When they walked through the village to which
    Aratta and the other peasants had brought Sharur after he crossed
    -into Imhursaggi land, Munnabtu came out of her house and waved
    to him. "The god told me you were coming this way," she said, smil-
    ing. "Did I make you glad?"
     "Truly, you made me glad," Sharur answered, and smiled back.
     "You made her glad, too, Nasibugashi said. Was he only a man,
    judging by a woman's smile, or was the god speaking through him
    with certain knowledge? The latter, Shatur judged: he sounded very
    Certain.
     Sharur and Nasibugashi walked through the fields south of the
    village toward the canal that marked the border between Imhursaggi
    land and Gibli. The peasants working in those fields waved to Sharur
    almost as Munnabtu had done. When he entered Imhursaggi terri-
    tory, their only thought had been to kill him. Now, because their
    god was well pleased with him, they too were well pleased with him.
     On the southern side of the canal, Gibli peasants performed similar
     labor in similar fields with tools also similar save that rather more of
     them were bronze and rather fewer stone. Curious as magpies, they
     looked up from their work to see what the two men on the Imhursaggi
     bank of the waterway would do.
      What Sharur did was slide off his kilt and shake his feet out of his
     sandals. After a moment, Nasibugashi imitated him. Together, the
     two men stepped naked into the warm, muddy waterway of the canal.
     About halfway across, Nasibugashi let out a soft exclamation of
     "The god's voice fades in my ears," he murmured. "The god's
     fades from my mind. I am alone within myself, as I have
     n before." He cocked his head to one side, as if listening
     ly. I do not feel Engibil trying to fill the emptiness the loss
     n mhursag has left behind."

    




    248
    
    bz,RRY TURTLE00ve
    
     4'No, you wouldn't," Sharur agreed. "Engibil isn't-there-all the
    time, the way Enimhursag is." Remembering the times when Engibil
    had spoken in his mind, he wished the god made his presence known
    even less often.
     When the two men came up onto the Gibli side of the canal
    peasants loped toward them. The peasants who had been working in
    the fields of Imhursag came down to the bank of the canal and st
    across with round, wide eyes to see what sort of reception Sharur
    Nasibugashi got.
     "What are you two doing here?" one of the Gibli peasants a ed.
    Unlike imhursagut, he and his comrades seemed more interest d in
    the new arrivals than angry about them. "Don't often see people
    coming this way, where their god can't yell in their ear all the ti
    He spoke with good-natured contempt.
     "It's not so bad," Nasibugashi said. Sharur nodded; Eni
    had indeed made a good choice in him. A more god-assotted Im,
    hursaggi-a priest, say-would have been as bereft as a canal fis
    suddenly thrown up on land.
     "What about you?" the peasant asked Sharur.
     "I don't think it's so bad, either," Sharur said. "Shall we get
    of the reach of all the big, staring eyes?" He nodded toward
    Imhursaggi peasants, through 'whose eyes and ears Enimhu
    no doubt seeing and hearing.
     One of those Imhursaggi peasants would have failed to un   d
    what he meant, would have made him explain more than he wanted
    to explain, more than would have been wise to explain. As he had
    hoped they would be, as he had thought they would be, the Giblut
    were quicker on the uptake. "All right, we'll go for a walk," thei,
    leader said.
     The Imhursagut kept staring after them. After a bowshot ok
    they went up and over a tiny hillock, so that the border canal a
    the Imhursagut on the other side of it were no longer visible.
     Sharur pointed to Nasibugashi and said, in bright, conversat
    tones, "This man is an Imhursaggi spy. You should seize him."
     With commendable quickness, the Gibli peasants did
    With equally commendable quickness, they also seized Sharu
    leader asked, "And why should we listen to you, whoever you arel,

    




    13C'UWC-C-M TOC RILVCRS
    
    249
    
     "Because, sometime before nightfall, lmhursag's army will swarm
    over the canal," Shatur answered. "Enimhursag sent us ahead to spy
    out the land."
     Nasibugashi's eyes looked as if they would bug out of his head.
    "You betray the god!" he gasped. A moment later, he found some-
    thing even more appalling to say: "You deceived the god!"
     His horror convinced the Giblut to take Sharur seriously. That
    horror probably did a better job of convincing them to take Sharur
    seriously than anything he could have managed on his own. The
    peasant who had been doing the talking for his comrades asked,
    
    I
    
            anyhow?"
    ((I am Sharur, the son of Ereshguna the master merchant," Sharur
    answered, which made Nasibugashi's eyes get even wider. Back in
    the lands of his own city, Sharur smiled an enormous smile. "I have
    indeed betrayed the god of Imhursag. I have indeed deceived the god
    of Imhursag."
    "It is well done!" the peasant cried. He and his friends pounded
    Sharur on the back for fooling the god of the rival city. Sharur won,
    dered what they would have done had they known he had fooled
    Enimhursag into launching an attack on Gibil.
    "How did you deceive the god?" Nasibugashi asked. He sounded
    half astonished that Sharur should have imagined such a thing, let
    alone accomplished it, half curious to team his exact method.
    "Never mind." Sharur spoke to the Gibli peasants: "Spread the
    word that the Imhursagut are coming. Women and children should
    flee, men should get weapons, harry the invaders, and fall back on
    the main army, which will, I have no doubt, muster between the city
    and the invaders."
    
                                 Some of the peasants-those who had been standing around and
           those who had been holding Sharur-dashed off to do as he had
           asked, Nasibugashi stared again. "Does not the god of Gibil tell his
           people what needs doing?" he said, astonished again.
                                 Sharur and the peasants who still held the Imhursaggi noble looked
           at one another and started to laugh. "Sometimes he does and some-
           times he doesn't," Sharur answered. "Sometimes the people figure
    r      t what needs doing before the god does."
                                 "How can this be?" Nasibugashi cried in honest bewilderment.

    




    aL!
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    AN
    A
    
                                              r
     "Not hard at all," one of the peasants answered with anothe
    chuckle. "Engibil is that kind of god-and we are that kind of peo-
    ple."
     "Be gentle with this one, as gentle as you can," Sharur told them.
    "For an Imhursaggi, he is very much his own man. Had he been born
    in Gibil, he would be his own man. Had he been born in Gibille
    might well be a great man."
     "As you say it, master merchant's son, it shall be," the peasant
    said. "What shall we do with him now?"
     "A good question." Sharur had not thought past laying hold of
    Nasibugashi. He spoke in thoughtful tones: "He is my captive. P6r-
    haps I shall make him my slave and have him serve me." ~z
     The Gibli peasants burst into laughter. The Imhursaggi noble burst
    into curses as vile as any Sharur had ever heard from caravan guards
    or donkey handlers. The curses made the Gibli peasants laugh louder.
     Sharur said, "Or, perhaps, I shall see whether his kin or his god
    care to ransom him. He is a clever man; he would make a clever
    slave, and might escape. He is a bold man; he would make a bo14.
    slave, and might seek to slay me. For now, let us take him back
    Gibil. We can decide his fate there."
     "It shall be as you say," the peasants said as one. And then, almost
    as one, they went on, "Master merchant's son, you will reward us for-
    helping you take him to the city?"
     "I shall reward you for helping me take him to the city," Sh
    promised. "The house of Ereshguna does not stint."
     "No," Nasibugashi said bitterly. "The house of Ereshguna chea,
     "It is not so," Sharur said. "I am a Gibli. I serve my own needs. I
    serve the needs of Gibil. I serve the needs of Engibil."
     "You are a Gibli," Nasibugashi agreed. "You put the needs of your
    god last. Were you a proper man, you would put those needs first."
     "I am a proper man. I am a proper Gibli," Sharur said. "Now Y'o
    god is out of your mind, Nasibugashi. Perhaps you too will learn
    be a man first, a creature of the gods only afterwards."
                                            arur
    
     Nasibugashi did not answer. Sharur studied him. Of all the I
    hursagut he had met, this noble was the first who indeed might learn
    to be a man before he was a creature of the gods. Sharur wondered
    if his wisest course might not be to keep Nasibugashi in Gibil form
                                            2

    




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    time, to let him learn what living in a city full of men who were their
    own men was like, and then to let him return to lmhursag, to see if
    he might sow the seeds of such a city under Enimhursag's nose.
     "Let us go on to Gibil," Sharur said. One of the peasants gave
    Nasibugashi a push. Outrage still mingling with astonishment on his
    face, the Imhursaggi noble stumbled south toward Sharur's city.
    
    Engibil might not have warned the folk of Gibil that the Imhursagut
    were invading, as Enimhursag had assembled the folk of In-Lhursag for
    the invasion. But news of trouble with lmhursag had far outsped
    Sharur's coming to the city. Already, peasants with spears and bows
    and clubs and shields were forming into companies to oppose the
    Imhursagut. Already, nobles in donkey-drawn chariots rode north
    toward the canal that marked Gibil's boundary with its hostile neigh-
    bor. - -
     "Where are your warrior-priests?" Nasibugashi asked as yet another
    chariot rumbled past, ungreased axles squealing.
     "We have only a handful," Sharur answered. "Most of our priest-
    hood serves the god in his temple. That is his home. That is where
    he needs servants. Men take care of the business of the city."
     "Madness," the lmhursaggi noble said. "Madness."
     "It could ke so," Sharur said. "But 1, a mad Gibli, deceived En-
    imhursag, and had no great trouble in doing so." He exaggerated
    there. He knew he exaggerated there. But Nasibugashi did not know
    and would not know he exaggerated there. He went on, "And, when
    vve mad Giblut go to war with lmhursag, who these days comes off
    victorious?"
      "It will be different this time," Nasibugashi said.
       rur showed his teeth in what was not quite a smile. "I doubt
        said. "Come-now we go into Gibil."
    
     ell, well," Ereshguna said when Sharur and the Gibli peasants led
    Nasibugashi into his presence. "Well, well. My son, you not only
    st your hand into the jaw of the lion again, you come home with
    ze as well e looks as if he will mal a fine slave "

    




    252
    
    bARRY TURTILe0ove
    
     "Actually, I was thinking of ransoming him, if we can get a good
    enough price," Sharut said. "He is a noble in Imhursag; I am not s~
    how well he would take to slavery."
     "A taste of the lash would probably convince him to obey-it does
    with most slaves, Ereshguna said, his voice dry. "Still, he is y 0011
    captive, and so your property. You may do with him as you wish.
    He examined Nasibugashi more closely. "Mm-perhaps you
    right. He does look to have a wild horse's spirit, doesn't he?"
     Nasibugashi threw back his head and gave forth with the bugling
    cry of the donkey's untamed relative. Sharur and Ereshguna stared at
    him, then burst into laughter. Sharur said, "These men need to be re-
    warded for helping me bring this horse from the border with Imh
    to the city. I promised them we would repay them for their aid."ItA
     "We shall do it," Ereshguna said at once. "We should have done
    it even had you not promised." He gave all the peasants small broken.
    bits of gold.
     They were loud in the praises of the house of Ereshguna. One
    them told Sharur, "Truly, master merchant's son, you knew whereo
    you spoke when you told us your family did not stint."
     "How can you have so much gold, to give of it to peasants?" N
    sibugashi asked as those peasants, rejoicing, headed back toward th
    village. "The gods hate Gibil. Folk from the surrounding cities, fo
    from the surrounding lands, hate Gibil. They will not trade wiC
    Gibil. And yet you have gold, to throw away to
    this be?"
     "I have honor," Ereshguna said. "I have pride. Were it the last
    gold I possess-and it is far from the last gold I possess, Imhursaggi-I
                                            1
    
                                            rleo
    
                                            1N
                                            h
                                            fo
    
    would give it to these peasants for the sake of my honor, for the sak
    of my pride. I am a man. These are the things a man does. Do you'
    understand that?"                     : I
     "In Imhursag, these are the things the god would have a n~n do,
    Nasibugashi said.
     (t
    
    peasants. How J
    
      I do not need the god to tell me what to do," Ereshguna said. "B
    myself, I know what to do. This is what being a man means.
     "You Giblut are strange," the captive Imhursaggi noble saii
    "Word by word, what you say makes sense. Idea by idea, oftentimes]
    what you say is madness."

    




    i
    
    BETWEC" TbC RtV42RS
    
    are
    
    253
    
     Horns blared outside. A bronze-lunged herald shouted the name
    of Kimash the lugal. Down the Street of Smiths came Kimash, not
    in his usual litter but in a chariot with gilded sides drawn by donkeys
    with gilded reins and harnesses. His helmet, all of bronze, was also
    gilded, as was his armor, and as was the bronze head of the spear he
    brandished.
     People on the Street of Smiths cheered themselves hoarse when
    Kimash and his retinue went past. The lugal's guards were less splen-
    did only than Kimash himself. Their gilded shields and helmets spar-
    kled in the sunlight. They looked hard and tough and at least a match
    for any of the warriors Sharur had seen in the Imhursaggi force.
     "Great is the lugal!" cried the people. "Mighty is the lugal! Strong
    in Gibil's defense is the lugal! The lugal and his bold men will drive
    back the wicked invaders! The lugal and his men will bring home
    slaves and booty! Engibil loves the mighty lugal!"
     "So this is what it means to have a lugal," Nasibugashi said. "You
    have made him into a god, and mention the true god of your city only
    as an afterthought." His lip curled to show what he thought of that.
     "No city can be without a ruler," Sharur said reasonably. "We have
    a ruler who is one of us, not one who treats the men and women of
    Gibil as if they were cattle and sheep in the fields,"
    
    "We are the cattle of our god," the Imhursaggi noble said. "We
     proud to be the cattle of our god. Enimhursag is our master.
    Enimhursag is our lord. We are his, to do with as he would."
     "We are ours, to do with as we Would, Sharur answered.
    Ereshguna pointed to Nasibugashi. "What shall we do with this
    divine cow here?" he asked. "We too shall have to go to war against
      Imhursagut, you know, and we can hardly take him with us."
    I know, Father," Sharur said with a sigh. He had succeeded better
      he expected, and started a larger war between Imhursag and
      il than he had thought he would. As his father had said, Gibil
    would need every man who could afford good bronze weapons and
    UIVI
    the
    
    than
    0.1
    
    armor of leather and bronze. He sighed again. "This is liable to in-
    tedere with our other business."
    "So it is," Ereshguna agreed. "That cannot be helped, though, not
    when Gibil depends on its men to save it. And I have a scheme for
    -~eaiiu with that other business."

    




    254          bARRY TURTLE00VE
    
     "Have you?" Sharur said. "Good." Neither he nor his father spoke
    of Habbazu or Engibil's temple or the cup within Engibil's temple
    not in front of Nasibugashi. Now Sharur pointed to the noble he la~
    la
    captured. "Let us give him into the hands of Ushurikti the s ave
    dealer for safekeeping."
     "Wait!" N asibugashi cried. "You said I would not be a slave-well,
    you said I might not be a slave. Have you now changed your mind"'
     "No," Sharur answered. "Ushurikti will house you and keep you
    from escaping until you may be ransomed. We will pay him for
    your keep, and add the cost to the ransom we receive for you.
    Only if your kin or your god refuse to ransom you will you be sold
    as a slave."
     "It is good," Ereshguna said. "So it will be."
     "It is not good," Nasibugashi said. "I believed you, Gibli. My god
    believed you. You deceived me. You deceived my god."
     "I do not serve Imhursagut," Sharur said. "I do not serve Enim
    hursag. I serve the Giblut. I serve Gibil." Here, he did not bother
    adding that he served Engibil. He was used to deceiving his own god,
    Since he had done that for so long, deceiving another god came
    easier.
     Ereshguna said, "Come. Let us take him to Ushurikti.
     "Let us warn Ushurikti to watch him with care," Sharur said.
    may seek to run away, and he is clever."
     "Were I so clever, would I be here?" Nasibugashi asked. Neither
    Sharur nor Ereshguna heeded him. They had no need to heed him.
    He was a captive, in a city not his own. They took him to Ushurikti
    the slave dealer.
    
    Habbazu bowed to Sharur. "Master merchant's son, you have a
    what you set out to do. Engibil now surely heeds the northern boider,
    not his own temple. This is surely the time to snatch from it the
    Alashkurri cup."
     "No, my friend from Zuabu, it is not quite the time, not
    Ereshguna said to the thief "Here: see. We have fine gifts fo
    better than any you could steal."
     Sharur presented the gifts to Habbazu: a bronze sword, its hilt

    




    BETWEEM Tj)C= RIV40RS
    
    255
    
    wrapped with gold wire, in a leather sheath; a helmet of stiff leather,
    reinforced with bronze plate; and a leather corselet with overlapping
    bronze scales. "All these are yours, Sharur said.
     "They are very fine." Habbazu bowed. "You are indeed generous
    to me. Whether they are finer than any I could steal, I do not know.
    I have pride in my thieving, as you have pride in your trading. But
    they are very fine. Still, I must ask of you: why do you give me a
    warrior's tools, when I am not a warrior but a thief? Why do you give
    me these tools now, when thievery is needed? Why do you give me
    them now, when fighting is not needed?"
     "Because fighting is needed: fighting against the Imhursagut," Er-
    eshguna answered. "After we have beaten them, while Engibil's eyes
    remain on the northern border to make sure Enimhursag does not
    renew the fight, we shall hurry back to Gibil. Then indeed will thiev-
    ery be needed."
     Habbazu's skinny face twisted into a grimace of distaste. "You
    think that, if I steal this Alashkurri cup while you are away from
    Gibil, I will keep it for myself. You think that, if I steal this cup while
    you are away from the city, I will take it back to Enzuabu."
     (Yes, we think that," Sharur agreed. "Did you stand where we
    : stand, would you not think that as well?"
      To his surprise, the question made Habbazu grin. "Well, perhaps
     I might, master merchant's son. Perhaps I might. Will you also pay
     me t fight for a city that is not mine?"
        will," Ereshguna said, and then he grinned, too. "Who says
        not a merchant as well as a thief?"
         so," Habbazu replied with dignity. "Being a merchant is hard
         eing a merchant is also boring work. Being a thief is hard
        too, I cannot deny. But being a thief is never boring work."
    
    "Not even when you have to wait and wait before you can commit
    our theft?" Sharur asked slyly.
    "Not even then," Habbazu said. "While I wait, I commonly sit in
    vems. I drink beer. I eat salt fish and onions. Sometimes I even eat
    utton. If I see a pretty courtesan, I give her metal or trinkets to lie
    wn on a mat with me and do as I desire. Perhaps some men would
     ored with this life. If that be so, I am not among them."
       t is not all there is to a thief's life," Ereshguna said. "If it were,

    




    13A-RRV TURTICOOVC
    
    all men would be thieves. No one would run a tavern. No one woul
    brew beer. No one would catch fish or salt it. No one would rao'
    onions. No one would herd sheep or butcher them. No courtesa
    would lie down on a mat for metal or trinkets if she could more e
    steal them."
     "Master merchant, what you say is true, but it is true only in
    Habbazu answered. "Many men are merchants. How many of
    lead the life of a master merchant like yourself? Only the h I
                                            e
    
    who are also master merchants, as you are. Many men, too, ai
    thieves. How many of them lead the life of a master thief like mysel
    Only the handful who are also master thieves, as I am."
     "Indeed, you are not to be despised in
    slowly.
    
                               argument," Ereshguna
    
     "Indeed, he is not," Sharur agreed. "If he can fight as w
    can argue, the Imhursagut will have yet another reason to
    might of Gibil."
     Habbazu said, "I am not part of the might of Gibil. I am par~j
    the might of Zuabu." He held up a hand. Like his face, his fino
    were long and clever. "If you would call me a Zuabi mercenary servir
    with Gibil, I should not quarrel over that."
     "How generous of you," Sharur said. He laughed to show he ril
    no offense. Habbazu laughed to show he took none. Sharur loo~
    around. Shadows were thickening. Colors were fading. "Let us c
    supper, then let us sleep. In the morning, we will march to the nort
    with my brother Tupsharru. We will help beat the Imhursagut, ar
    then we will return."
     No sooner had the words gone forth from his mouth than Tul
    sharru. came into the house. "I see you have given Habbazu weapons
    he said. "He will fight for us before he steals for us?" I
     "He will," Ereshguna said. "He is a Zuabi mercenary serving wit
    Gibil. He says as much, so how could it be otherwise?"
     "You mock me," Habbazu said. "I am cut to the quick." He m
                                          ell as
    
    staggering about after having taken a deadly wound.    I
    When Sharur, Ereshguna, Tupsharru, and Habbazu set out d
    next morning, they were not alone. The Street of Smiths was eq
    tying. The men who made the weapons for Gibil also carried thei

    




    BETWEEM TDC RIVERS
    
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    to defend their city. Even bald, heavy Dimgalabzu shouldered a long-
    handled ax with a great head.
     "Going to chop down some of those Imhursaggi palms, are you?"
    Ereshguna called on seeing the fearsome weapon.
     "That I will," Dimgalabzu answered. "That we will, all we smiths.
    We shall fight in the first ranks. Being full of the power of metal-
    working, we dread less than others might the force Enimhursag can
    bring to bear against us."
     "It is good," Sharur said. "Kimash the lugal is wise to arrange his
    line of battle so."
     "It is good," Ereshguna agreed. "We have had great profit by fight-
    ing thus against the Imhursagut in our past few wars."
     Habbazu looked interested. Eventually, Sharur suspected, Enzuabu
    would hear of the way the Giblut fought against Imhursag, and why
    they fought thus. What the god of Zuabu would make of that re-
    mained to be seen.
     Dimgalabzu also looked interested-in Habbazu. "Wl-io is this man
    who marches with you and your sons?" he asked Ereshguna.
     "His name is ... Burrapi," Ereshguna answered. "He is a Zuabi
    mercenary. Sharur here became acquainted with him when leading
    caravans through the land of Zuabu. He was here in Gibil when word
    came that the Imhursagut have gone to war with us. We will pay him
    well to fight for the city."
      Habbazu took for granted being named by a false name. He dipped
     his head to Dimgalabzu. The smith gave a similar walking bow in
     return. Chuckling, Dimgalabzu said, "Be careful that he has come
     here to fight, not to steal. You know what they say about Zuabut."
      "A few thieves have spoiled the reputation of all of Zuabu," Hab-
     bazu complained. Tupsharru coughed, as if at dust hanging in the
     roadway. Sharur and Ereshguna held their faces straight. They were
     both more experienced merchants than Sharur's younger brother.
     Sharur did not have an easy time of it, experience or no.
      On they marched. The smiths, who were men with powerful upper
      dies, did not use their legs so much in their work. They were also
  men. They clubbed together to buy a donkey in a village
                passed, and loaded their weapons and accoutre,

    




    258
    
    b&RRY TURT]Le6ove
    
    ments onto it. After that, they tramped along with lighter loads and=
    gladder hearts.
     Peasants marched north, too. Before long, the road became
    crowded, for other peasants, men and women and children,
    fleeing South, often leading their livestock. "The Imhursagut!" they
                                            Were
    
    cried, as if men heading toward the foe with weapons in hand did
    not know whom they would be fighting.
     In time, Ereshguna pointed toward the northern horizon.
    "Smoke," he said. "They are burning our fields. They are burning our
    villages. They will pay the price for burning our fields and villages."
     The Gibli camp not far ftom the border was a city in its own right,
    a city with guards and winding streets and with tents taking the place
    of houses. The mood inside the camp was confident. As someone
    past whom Sharur walked put it: "We've beaten the Imhursagut
    plenty of times before. What can be so hard about doing it again?"
     Kimash the lugal advanced with his force against the Imhursagut
    the next day. Sharur shouted to see the men from Imhursag drawn
    up on Gibli soil in a ragged line of battle. Then he shouted again,
    on a different note, for there near the head of the Imhursaggi force
    appeared Enimhursag, angry and armored and ten times the size of a
    man.

    




    U
    
    t -,
    
    "Enimhursag! Enirnhursag"' the Imhursagut chanted as their god
    strode with them toward the Giblut. But Sharur saw what they, per-
    haps, did not: Enimhursag did not stride out in front of them to take
    new land away from Gibil. Where his men had not gone before him,
    he had no power.
     Some few of the Gibli peasants, not realizing this, fled before his
    awesome apparition. Beside Sharur, Habbazu asked in a shaken voice,
    "Where is Engibil, to withstand the god of Imhursag?"
     "Engibil does not withstand in his own person the god of Imhur-
    sag," Sharur answered.
     "Engibil has not withstood in his own person the god of Imhursag
    for many years," Ereshguna added.
     "Not even in the days of my youth did Engibil withstand in his
    own person the god of Imhursag," Sharur's grandfather's ghost said,
    abruptly announcing his presence to his kin.
     Habbazu could not hear the ghost, not having been acquainted
    with Sharur's grandfather in life, but what the living men said was
    enough-was more than enough-to dismay him. "Engibil will not
    withstand the enemy for his own city?" he cried. "Then truly you are
    lost! Truly all is lost!" He made as if to flee after the handful of Gibli
    peasants who had fled.
      "No, all is not lost," Tupsharru. said as Sharur set a hand on the
     thiefs arm to steady him. "Gibil and Imhursag have fought many
     wars since Engibil last withstood in his own person Enimhursag. We
     Giblut have won "This is so," Habbazu said slowly, as if remindin himself. Panic
                                     9
     drained from his face, to be replaced by puzzlement. I know this is

    




    260
    
    OaRRy TuRTLcOovc
    
    so, but I do not understand how it can be so. How can men st
    alone against men and a god and win?"
     "We do not stand alone, Sharur said. "This is Engibil's land. H
    has dwelt on it longer than we. He aids in its defense. But we are no
    his slaves, as the Imhursagut are Enimhursag's slaves. We do not need
    him with us to go forward against the foe."
     "And now," Ereshguna said, drawing his bronze sword with
    gleaming edge, "it is time to talk no more. It is time to go fa
    against the foe."
     Forward against the foe they went, Habbazu dubious and rolling'
    his eyes but no longer ready to turn and run. Men without corselets,
    men without helmets, men without shields gave way before them,
    urging them up to the forwardmost ranks, the ranks where the men
    with the best gear were concentrated. As Dirngalabzu had said
                                          ~y
    of those who fought at the fore were smiths; Sharur saw fri( s
    neighbors from the Street of Smiths.
     Others in the first ranks-the armor over the softer body of
    army as a whole-were prosperous merchants (also friends and sorn
    times rivals whom Sharur knew) and scribes. The scribes were n
    so prosperous, but were fitted out with armor at Kimash's expense
    Like the smiths, they were imbued with a certain resistance to
    imhursag's might by the power inherent in their trade.
     On came the Imhursagut, still shouting their god's name. They t
    had wealthy men, armored men, in their front ranks. Enimhursq
    tramped among them, like a tower on parade. Off to either wing,
    archers in the donkey-drawn chariots exchanged arrows with one
    another and maneuvered to outflank the opposing army so they could
    disrupt it with their archery.
     Enimhursag waved his sword and shouted abuse at the Giblut, as
    if he were a peasant woman in the market square spurning an offer
    for a bundle of radishes. "Have no fear, men of Gibil! " Kimash yelle
    in reply. His voice was small beside the gods, but large enough. "Do
    you see how his blade cannot go a digit's length farther than his
    frontmost line of men? He has no power over us, save that which his
    warriors can give him. Let us beat those warriors. Let us drive them
    back over the canal, and their foolish, loud-mouthed god with them.
    Forward the Giblut!"

    




    IM 1
    
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    1).3,RRY TURTLeOovc-
    
     "Not much," Sharur answered. "He can mow down ten men at a
    stroke with it-but half of them, in this mel6e, will be his own men,"
     "Ah," Habbazu said. Then he added "God of my city, aid me!"
    because an arrow hissed past his face. And then, aplomb restored, he,
    went on, "Yes, what good is he in this battle? Even if he stomps
    his feet, he will trample his own men as well as the Giblut."
     "Even so, " Sharur answered, slashing at an Imhursaggi wh t
    bled back to escape the blade.
     Despite Enimhursag's raging, despite his shouted exhortati n thg
    filled the field with thunder, the Imhursagut fell back all along
    line. The fury of the Giblut matched theirs, while the men Of G
    had more corselets, more helmets, more bronze,faced shields
    bronze blades, more of the chariots that, though stow and, awj wA
    were still faster and more maneuverable than men afoot, and alto
    the Gibli archers in them to shoot at the Imhursagut from the
     "Forward the Giblut!" Kimash shouted, and the men of Glbg~
    echoed the cry as they advanced: "Forward the Giblut!"
     "We drive them! " Tupsharru yelled, his voice breaking in his
    citement. "We drive them as a swineherd drives swine to the
    ket." He had a cut on his left cheek, from which blood ran d=
    into his beard. Sharur did not think he knew he had been hurt.
     But Enimhursag was not 'altogether powerless: far from it, Hav'
    come far out from under the shadow of their own god, having oft.,
    defeated the Imhursagut and driven north the border between Gi.
    and Imhursag, the Giblut could hardly be blamed for rec
    god of their rivals reduced to impotence.
     Then Enimhursag stooped over the battlefield, seized a
    left hand-the hand not holding that immense sword
    on high, and cast him down. The god bent again, grabbe,
    Gibli, and smashed him to the ground as well.
     Seeing the god's great hand descending to close on y t ano
    man of his city, Sharur thought of his dream when he had go
    to Imhursag in the guise of a Zuabi merchant. There too some
    vast and terrible had reached down to pluck up tiny men and
    them to their doom. Then Enimhursag had killed a true Zuabi
    chant, not the false one he had, Sharur remained convinced,

    




    NMI,   BETWEEM TJ)4E RIVERS         263
    WE
    
     Now, suddenly, Enimhursag let out a bellow of pain and rage; he
    rose without a Gibli clenched in his fist. Now his ichor dripped down
    onto the battlefield from a wounded forefinger. Another bellow rang
    out on the field, this one from Dimgalabzu the smith: "If your women
    haven't taught you to keep your hands to yourself, you great over-
    grown gowk, let a man do the job!"
     Enimhursag reached down again, and succeeded in killing another
    Gibli., The success gave him confidence. It gave him, perhaps, too
    much confidence, for his next try resulted in another wound, this
    one worse than that which Dimgalabzu had given him. A Gibli
    scribe's voice rose in a triumphant cry.
     The lmhursagut cried out, too, in dismay. "Our god is wounded,
    moaned a man in front of Sharur. "Our god bleeds!"
     "You will be wounded," Sharur shouted at him. "You will bleed."
    He flourished his sword and screwed his face up into a fierce and
    terrible rimace. When he took a step toward the Imhursaggi, the
    fellow spun on his heel and fled back through his own lines, throwing
    away his club to run the faster.
     Sharur threw back his head and laughed. He was a young man at
    the forefront of a victorious army. When he had sneaked into Im-
    hursag disguised as a Zuabi, he had been afraid. When he had gone
    openly into Imhursag to deceive the god, he had been afraid. He had
    been alone each time then. He was not alone now. He and his com-
    rades, he and the men of his own city, were driving the enemy before
    them. No wonder, then, he laughed.
     Also driving the enemy was one man not of his city. Grinning
    widely, Habbazu displayed a fine, heavy gold necklace. "So long as
    you took that from an Imhursaggi and did not steal it from a man of
    Gibil, enjoy it and profit from it," Sharur said.
     "A man who would steal from his friends is no gentleman," the
    thief replied. "In this fight, the Giblut are my friends, for they help
    keep the Imhursagut from doing my body harm. I have this of an
    Imhursaggi, not from a Gibli."
     "It is good," Sharur said. Along with the nobles and smiths and
    scribes of Gibil, he pressed deeper into the wavering host of Imhursag,
    forcing the foe back in the direction of the canal that marked the
    border between Imhursaggi land and that of Gibil.

    




    264          1)&RRY TURTLeOove
    
     Then a shadow fell on his part of the battlefield. Involuntal,K
    Sharur looked up. The day, like most days in Kudurru from the be,'
    ginning of spring to the end of autumn, had been bright and Clear.
    For a cloud to pass in front of the sun was rare.
     But no cloud had passed in front of the sun. Obscuring its light was
    the massive form of Enimhursag. Sharur stared up into the god's enor-
    mous face. That proved a mistake. Enimhursag's eyes widened as he
    recognized the mortal who had led him and his city into this ~ar.
     "You liar!" Enimhursag shouted, his voice ringing in Sharur s earv,~
    "You cheat! You trickster! You Gibli!" To his mind, that seemed the
    crowning insult.
     He intended more than insult. With his left hand, the hand unen-
    cumbered by the sword, he reached down for Sharur. No green and
    growing stalks of barley hid Sharur from the god's search and an,,, V
    blo
                                             (~o
    now. If Enimhursag squeezed him in that man-sized fist, his )d
    would pour down onto the struggling Giblut and Imhursagut, as the
    luckless Zuabi merchant's blood had poured out of him after
    hursag seized him by mistake.
     Unlike the luckless Zuabi, Sharur was not taken asleep and helpless
    on his mat. He had a sword in his hand and he had the determination
    to use it. He swung it at the enormous thumb that curled down
    grasp him.
     The blade bit deep. Sharur yanked it free and slashed again. En,
    imhursag would have been wiser to try to smash him flat than to seek
    to lay hold of him. But the god had proved imperfectly wise in other
    ways as well. Wounded a second time, he bellowed like a bul
    the instant in which it is made into a steer: a cry of commingled pain
    and astonishment that without words said, How could such a dreadful
    thing happen to me?                      I
    More great drops of ichor splashed the ground by Sharur. Eirlim,
    hursag's vital fluid did not have the harsh, metallic stink of hutnan
    blood; it smelled more like the air just after lightning has struck ~ ' lose
    by-a smell that made the nose tingle on account of its power. if,
    after the battle was over, wizards could find the spots where the god
    had bled and dig up the ground into which his ichor had soak~,
    they might do great things with it.      'A
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     That would be for later, though. For now, Sharur brandished his
     sword and shouted up to Enimhursag: "Go back to your own land.
     This land does not want you. Go back!"
     All the Giblut took up the cry: "Go back! This land does not want
     you. Go back!"
     Enimhursag howled in rage. He had expected the men of Gibil to
     welcome him as a liberator, to thank him for rescuing them from mad
     Engibil. But the Giblut not only did not welcome him, they not only
     did not thank him, they were handily defeating him and his people,
     and were defeating him by themselves, without even seeking the aid
     of their god.
     Where that must have humiliated Enimhursag, it made Sharur
     proud. And yet, at the same time, it worried him. He had not wanted
     the Imhursagut to beat the men of his city. But he had wanted to
     draw Engibil's notice to the northern border of the land Gibil ruled.
     If the god of Gibil needed to pay no attention to the invasion, he
     would not be distracted from affairs in and around his temple, and
     Habbazu would have a harder time stealing the Alashkuff i cup.
     Sharur fought on. So did his fellow Giblut. Step by step, they
     forced back the Imhursagut. Enimhursag managed to slay a few more
     men of Gibil, but was also wounded again and again. NVhenever the
     lod tried to attack a smith or a scribe or some other man intimately
     connected with the new in Gibil, he found good reason to regret it.
     Sharur briefly wondered if smiths and scribes would also be able
     to resist the power of Engibil. Before that thought had the chance to
     do anything more than cross his mind, he forgot it, for Engibil ap-
     peared on the battlefield.
        He did not manifest himself as taller than a building, in the fashion
      of Enimhursag. He was, in fact, hardly more than twice as tall as a
      ,man. But his voice, like Enimhursag's, rang above and through the
      merely human din of the fighting. "Go home," he called to his fellow
      god, as the Giblut had done. "You have no business here."
        You are not a god, to give me orders," Enimhursag shouted back.
       "You are not even a god to give your own people orders. If men will
    1 11
    
       not heed you, why do you think I will heed you?"
        "The men of Gibil are doing as they should," Engibil said. "They

    




    266
    
    b3,RRY TURTLe0ove
    
    are driving greedy invaders from their land. They are doing as I desire.
    If they can do it without unduly troubling me, so much the better."
     "You are mad," Enimhursag said. "You let your men run wild. One!
    day soon, they will run away with you."
     "It is not so," Engibil said, though Sharur thought it might perhaps
    be so. "Kimash the lugal and I have an understanding."
     "Aye, no doubt," Enimhursag said. "He does your job. While he
    does your job, you sleep. It is an understanding that requires no un-
    derstanding: certainly it requires no understanding from you. This is
    as well, for you have no understanding to give."
     "Mock me. Scorn me. Insult me. Revile me," Engibil said compla,
    cently. "Your city falters. My city thrives."
     "Truly you are asleep-or perhaps I am speaking with the Ao : ;S
    of Engibil, who died some time ago," Enimhursag jeered. "Merchlits
    from other cities of Kudurru shun Gibil. Merchants from land4e-
    yond Kudurru shun Gibil. The gods from the land between the rivers
    shun Gibil and Engibil. The gods from lands beyond the land be-
    tween the rivers shun Gibil and Engibil. And you say your cii,
    thrives!
     "My city thrives," Engibil repeated. "I know things of which you
    know nothing, and I say my city thrives. The proof lies before you:
    my men, the men of Gibil, move forward, while your men, the men
    of Imhursag, move back. You have puffed yourself up big as a pig's
    bladder blown up with air, but still my men wound you. See how you
    bleed."
     Enimhursag looked at his left hand, which Sharur and other Giblut
    had cut again and again. "Yes, still your men wound me," the god
    said. "They wound me because they do not feel my power as thev
    should. They have powers of their own, newfangled powers, godless
    powers, to set in the scales against my greatness, against my might,
    against my majesty."
     Engibil laughed in the face of his rival god. "How great is your
    greatness, how mighty is your might, how majestic is your majesty d
    men wound you?"
     "Laugh all you please," Enimhursag said. "Today, men of your-,
    wound me. Tomorrow, beware lest they wound you."
     Engibil did not reply. He folded his arms across his chest

    




    13ETWEEM TT)C RIVIERS
    
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    as Sharur could tell, he exerted no special strength against the
    strength of Enimhursag. If anyone answered the god of Imhursag, it
    was Kimash the lugal, who cried, "Forward the Giblut!"
     "Forward the Giblut!" the men of Gibil echoed, and the battle,
    which had hung suspended while the gods bickered, picked up once
    more.
     Sharur traded sword strokes with an Imhursaggi who, though larger
    than he, was not skilled with his weapon. Taking the foe's measure,
    Sharur struck a clever blow. The sword flew from the Imhursaggi's
    hand. Sharur brought back his own blade for the killing stroke.
     "Mercy!" the Imhursaggi cried. "Spare me!" He sank to his knees
    and set the palm of his hand on Sharur's thigh in a gesture of des-
    perate supplication. "I am your slave!" Bending lower, he kissed
    Sharur's foot through the straps of his sandal. "Mercy!"
     "Get up," said Sharur, who had no stomach for slaughter in such
    circumstances. "Go back through our line. Go back to our camp. Tell
    everyone as you go that you are the captive and slave of Sharur. If
    my people let you live long enough, I will give you over to Ushurikti
    the slave dealer, that I may profit from your price or ransom."
     "You are my master." The Imhursaggi got to his feet. "I obey you
    as I would obey my god."
     No one would get a stronger promise from an Imhursaggi. If
    Shatur's captive broke it ... if he broke that promise, he would make
    a better Gibli than an Imhursaggi, anyhow. Sharur jerked his thumb
    to the rear. Still babbling praises and thanks, the man shambled away.
     Habbazu said, "You might readily have slain him there. He is an
    enemy of your city. He is an enemy of your god. You would have
    gathered only praise."
     "This way, I shall gather profit instead," Sharur said. "Profit also
    has its uses. And, this way, I shall be able to ask Kimash the lugal
     for leave to go back to Gibil after the fight here is done, so that I
     may give my captive over to Ushurikti for safekeeping and for sale."
     "You Giblut can be devious when you choose," Habbazu remarked.
    "'It is as well that your god smiles not on thieves; were it otherwise,
     the men of your city would make formidable rivals for us of Zuabu."
      "We judge man by man, not city by city," Sharur said.
      "That is because your god does not roll his own cylinder seal across

    




    268
    
    your souls so strongly as do the gods of other cities," Habbazu sa
    "This leaves you far more various from one man to another than a
    
    b,XRRY TURTLeOove
    
    the men of Zuabu or Imhursag."
     "It could be so, " Sharur said.
     "It is so." The Zuabi thief spoke with assurance. "You live amon
    the men of your own city. I see them as an outsider, and see with m,
    own astonished eyes how various you Giblut are." His eyes sparkled.
    "And now, another question: when you go back to Gibil to give your
    prisoner over to the slave dealer, may a certain retainer of such low
    estate he need not be mentioned to the godlike lugal accompany
    you?"
     "What makes you think I know such a man?" Sharur inquired
    blandly. Habbazu glared at him, then started to laugh. Sharur went
    on, "Indeed, if I knew such a one, he might well accompany me when
    I go back to Gibil."
     "Perhaps you will soon make the acquaintance of such a one,"
    Habbazu said. At that moment, with Enimhursag bellowing to urge
    them on, the Imhursagut tried to rally. Habbazu said, "Perhaps we
    will both soon make the acquaintance of some large number of un,
    friendly men."
     The Imhursagut fought fiercely, but the men of Gibil had more
    armor, better weapons, and, despite -Enimhursag's exhortations, more
    confidence. The rally faltered. The Imhursagut began falling back
    once more.
     Panting, Sharur was surprised to note how far the sun had sunk
    toward the western horizon. Panting hurt; he had taken a blow in
    the ribs from an Imhursaggi club. The blow had not been so strong
    as it might have, and had struck one of the bronze scales of his armor.
    Bruised he surely was, but he did not feel the grating or stabbing
    pains that would have warned of broken
     Back and back the Imhursagut went,        y
    of their encampment. They rallied once more in front of those tents,
    fighting now for the possessions they had brought into Gibil as weli
    as for their god. With darkness looming, Kimash drew back fto a
    final assault.
             71
      'He is wise, Habbazu said. "If you make Enimhursag
    who can guess what he might do?"
    
    ribs.
    until the reached the ttnts
    
    desperate,

    




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     "I would rather not find out," Sharur said. "Kimash would rather
    not find out. It could even be that Engibil would rather not find out."
     "It could even be, indeed, that Engibil would rather not find out,"
    Habbazu said, nodding.
     Leaving behind scouts to warn and companies of soldiers to resist
    for a time if the Imhursagut, contrary to expectation, tried to steal
    the war by night, Kimash led the bulk of his own host back to their
    camp. The wounded men among them groaned and cried; those who
    were unwounded sang songs of praise to their lugal, to their city, and,
    almost as an afterthought, to their god.
     In the march back to the camp, Sharur found Tupsharru and Er-
    eshguna. His brother bore no wound but the cut face Sharur had
    already seen; his father had bruised ribs almost identical to his own.
    "You should see what I did to the Imhursaggi, though," Ereshguna
    boasted.
     At the camp waited the Imhursaggi whom Sharur had captured.
    He threw himself down before Sharur, crying, "I am your slave!"
     "Of course you are," Sharur answered. "I am going to see if I can
    get leave from the lugal to take you back to the city and give you to
    the slave dealer there. I have no need for another slave of my own;
    the dealer will sell you or ransom you, and he and I will share the
    profit."
     "You may do with me as you please," the Imhursaggi said. "You
    spared my life when you might have slain me. I am yours."
     Had capture ever been his fate, Sharur was certain he would have
    made a far more obstreperous prisoner than the abject Imhursaggi.
    But the lmhursaggi had been a slave before he was captured: a slave
    to his god. He was not getting a master for the first time, merely
     tting a new master. "Wait here," Sharur told him. "I will return
    soon."
     He found Kimash the lugal surrounded by his guardsmen. The lugal
    raised in salute the cup he was holding. "Come, son of Ereshguna!"
    he called in expansive tones, waving for Sharur to approach. "Drink
    beer with me."
     Someone pressed a cup of beer into Sharur's hand. He drank gladly;
    after a day of fighting in the hot sun, he was as dry as land to which
    no canal could bring water. "Mighty lugal," he said when the cup

    




    270
    
    bARRY TURTLeDov4E
    
    was empty, "have I your leave to go back to Gibil come morning, to
    take a prisoner, a captive of my sword, to the house of Ushurikti the
    slave dealer for safekeeping?"
     "This will be the second Imhursaggi you have brought to Ushu'
    rikti, not so?" Kimash said. Sharur nodded, wondering if the lugal
    
    was angry at him for having captured Nasibugashi in the process of
    starting a war with Imhursag. But Kimash went on, "Aye, take this
    one back, too. Sooner or later, all the Imhursagut will be Gibli Slaves,
    and deserve to be." As soon as his cup of beer was empty, he began
    another. He was not drunk yet, but soon would be.
     Bowing his head, Sharur returned to his kinsfolk, his prisoner, and
    Habbazu. "Tomorrow we shall go down to Gibil," he told the captive,
    "you and I and my comrade here." He did not mention Habbazu's
    name; what the Imhursaggi did not know, he could not tell.
     t(It is good," the captive said. "Because you are generous, I still
    live. I still eat bread. I still drink beer. What can a man owe another
    man that is larger than his life? I know of no such thing. There is no
    such thing."
     As a slave, he was liable to eat stale bread, and not much of it. As
    a slave, he was liable to drink sour beer, and muddy water dipped up
    from a canal as well. None of that seemed to bother him in the least.
    He had been a man of wealth in Im-hursag, else he should not have
    held a bronze sword when he faced Sharur. Now, unless he was ran,
    somed, he would be a man with nothing. Perhaps he failed to un,
    derstand how far he had fallen. Sharur did not enlighten him; the
    more ignorant he was, the more tractable he would remain.
     "If you and your comrade and your captive are not awake at ear,
    liest dawn, I shall rouse you," Ereshguna said as Sharur stretched
    out a mat on which to sleep. Like Sharur, his father did not men-
    tion Habbazu's name. A man could not be too careful. Word of the
    name might get back to Kimash. Or, for that matter, Engibil might
    be listening. Stretching, Sharur worried over that-but not for
    long.
    
    When Sharur's father shook him awake, he did not want to rise. He
    rubbed his eyes and yawned as he made himself get to his feet. "is
    
    I I[

    




    BCTW4E4EN TI)C RIVERS
    
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    the captive still with us?" he asked, looking around in the gray dim-
    ness of early twilight.
     "Sleeping like a child," Ereshguna answered. "I have seen this in
    other Imhursagut, and in men from other cities where gods rule. They
    do not fret so much as we; their gods fret for them, as they do every-
    thing else for them. There are times when I almost envy them. Al-
    most."
     Sharur saw Habbazu sipping a cup of beer. The Zuabi thief looked
    very alert, and very much as if he did all his own fretting. He nodded
    to Sharur.
     Ereshguna said, "Yesterday evening, after you lay down and as I
    was about to do the same, men came here from the pavilion of Ki-
    mas the lugal. They asked if we had ever laid hands on the thief we
    sought." He still named no names. Habbazu smirked. Ereshguna went
    on, "I told them no, and they went away. But it will be well when
    you and your comrade leave this camp, lest someone wonder if Hab-
    .bazu the Zuabi thief and Burrapi the Zuabi mercenary are one and
    the same."
     "Yes." Sharur stirred the sleeping Imhursaggi captive with his foot.
    The man looked confused for a moment, then recognized Sharur and
    recalled his circumstances. He scrambled to his feet and clasped his
    captor's hand. Sharur gave him bread and beer for breakfast, then led
    him South, back toward Gibil.
     Peasants by the side of the road, old men and striplings and women,
    called questions to the travelers as they tramped along. The peasants
    cheered to team the Gibli army had beaten the Imhursagut in their
    first clash. The Imhursaggi captive was astonished. "Why has your
    god not told all the folk of Gibil of this victory?" he asked.
     "Engibil doesn't do things like that," Sharur said. \Vhether Engibil
    could do things like that any more, he did not know. The god had
    not exerted himself so for generations. If he took back power in Gibil
    om the lugal, though, he would have to do such things. His laziness,
     ich Sharur had seen, helped keep the -people of Gibil free.
      "How very strange," the Imhursaggi said. Habbazu caught Sharur's
     eye, but did not say anything.
      "We like it this way," Sharur said, answering what his captive had
     said and what Habbazu had not.

    




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     "How very strange," the captive repeated. Habbazu started to
    laugh. Sharur gave him a dirty look. This time, though, Ixe was the
    one who did not say anything.
     When they got into Gibil, Ushurikti, who had not gone to war,
    bowed himself almost double before Sharur. "Ah, master merchant's
    son," the slave dealer said with a smirk, "are you going to bring me
    all of Imhursag to sell, one prisoner at a time?" He took a damp clay
    tablet out of a pot with a tight lid that kept its contents from drying
    out and incised it with a stylus. Sharur, reading upside down, saw the
    dealer write his name as the owner of the slave. Then Ushurikti
    asked, "And what is the name of this Imhursaggi?"
     "I never bothered to ask him." Sharur turned to the captive.
    "What is your name, fellow?"
     "I am called Duabzu, my master," the Imhursaggi replied.
    "Du-ab-zu." Ushurikti wrote the syllables one by one. "Well
    Duabzu, have you anyone in Imhursag who might ransom you? 1~
    your own people will pay a better price for you than I could get froni
    a Gibli, you may go free."                'M
     "It could be so." Duabzu visibly brightened. "Perhaps, before lot Og~
    I will again hear the voice of my god in my mind. Life would be
    sweet, were that to come to pass."
    
     "He is not a poor man," Sharur said. "He swung a sword of b4nze
    against me, till I struck it from his hand. No poor man would have
    swung a sword of bronze against me."
     "This is so. No poor man could have afforded to own a sword of
    bronze to swing against you," Ushurikti said. "But whether this
    Duabzu has kin who would even want to pay ransom for him, that is
    a different question. When a man is captured, sometimes his kin
    prefer to reckon him as one dead, that they may make free with his
    inheritance." The slave dealer had surely seen more of the unsavory
    side of life than had most men.
     Duabzu looked horrified. "My kin would never be so wicked as
    that. If they can afford your price, they will pay your price. Enim,
    hursag would turn his back on them forever if they were so wicked
    as to refuse." He looked Sharur in the face. "In Imhursag, the god
    keeps men from bein so wicked as that I see the same is not
    in Gibil."

    




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     "In Imhursag, the god keeps men from being men," Sharur an-
    swered. "Men are not all good, but neither are they all bad. Nor, he
    added pointedly, "are gods all good, no matter what they impose on
    men." Duabzu sniffed.
     Ushurikti said, "You need not argue with this man, master mer-
    chant's son. You need not argue with this slave, master merchant's
    son.
     "I know that," Sharur said. "I leave him in your hands. He invaded
    our land. He will pay the price. Someone, Gibli or Imhursaggi, will
    pay the price for him. You and I shall profit from that price."
     "It is good," Ushurikti said. If Duabzu thought it was anything but
    tood, he kept the thought to himself. Ushurikti led him away, back
    toward the little cubicle with the bar on the outside of the door where
    he would stay until sold or ransomed. Sharur wondered how close his
    cubicle would be to Nasibugashi's, and how many other Imhursagut
    would take up temporary residence with Ushurikti and other Gibli
    slave dealers.
     To Habbazu, Sharur said, "Come, let us go back to my own house.
    You will be my guest there. You will eat of my bread. You will drink
    of my beer. You will use my home as if it were your own."
     "You are generous, master merchant's son," Habbazu said, bowing.
    e answered ritual with ritual: "If ever you come to Zuabu, come to
    my own house. You will be my guest there. You will eat of my bread.
    'You will drink of my beer. You will use my home as if it were your
    4
    
          come to Zuabul I will do these things," Sharur said. He
    wondered how welcome he would be in Zuabu, if ever Enzuabu
    learned Habbazu had given him the Alashkurri cup instead of taking
    it back to the god. But ritual was ritual. Sharur continued with what
    was not quite ritual, but was polite: "If you feel the urge, lie down
    with our Imhursaggi slave woman. If not eager, she is always obedi-
    
    d
    
          presents would make her more eager, or at least make
    her seem more eager," Habbazu said. "When a man lies down with
    a woman for his own amusement or for pay, having her seem eager
    is as much as he can expect."
     "It could be so," Sharur said.

    




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     At the house of Ereshguna, the slaves brought Habbazu bread and
    beer. They also brought him onions and salt fish and lettuce and
    beans, and did so without being asked. Sharur smiled at that, remem-
    bering how the Imhursaggi peasants had done for him exactly what
    Enimhursag ordered them to do for him, and no more than Enim,
    hursag ordered them to do for him.
     Habbazu eyed the Imhursaggi slave woman with frank speculation,
    She recognized that for what it was, and somehow, without smearing
    dust on herself or using any other trick, contrived to look even more
    mousy and nondescript than she usually did. Habbazu turned aw4,
    as if he had smelled salt fish that had not been salted enough and
    was going bad. When he turned away, the Imhursaggi slave walked
    straighter. Sharur hid a smile.
     Betsilim and Nanadirat stayed upstairs. For them to come down
    and greet a male guest who was not an intimate family friend, as
    Sharur and his father and brother were in the house of Dimgalabzu,
    would have been a startling breach of custom. Habbazu did not re-
    mark on their absence. He probably would have remarked had they
    made an appearance.
     When the slaves had left Habbazu and him to their food and drink!,
    Sharur asked, "Will you go to the temple of Engibil tonight, to see
    if you can make off with the cup while Engibil's eyes are turned to
    the north, to the fight with Enimhursag?"
     "Master merchant's son, that was my plan," the Zuabi thief repl
    "I think it best to do this as soon as may be."
     "You thieves like the darkness, Sharur said. "It was in the da k
    ness that you came to my caravan outside Zuabu."
     "It is so," Habbazu agreed. "Darkness masks a thief Darkness masks
    what a thief does." He sighed, a sound of chagrin. "Darkness, h
    night, did not mask well enough what a thief did."
     Sharur's grandfather's ghost spoke in his ear: "Be wary of this a ,
    lad. Be careful of him. He is a thief, and not to be trusted. He is a
    Zuabi, and doubly not to be trusted. Be wary, be careful, lest darkness
    hide what he does to you, not what he does for you."
     "I understand all that, Sharur muttered impatiently, in the tones
    a living man used to address a ghost. Habbazu, realizing what he was
    doing, looked up to the ceiling and waited for him to be done. Sharur

    




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    sighed, a sound of exasperation. His grandfather, querulous alive, was
    even more querulous as a ghost. Then Sharur brightened. He might
    yet make use of the suspicious ghost. "Ghost of my grandfather, will
    you go with the Zuabi thief into the temple of Engibil?" he asked,
    murmuring still, but not so softly as to keep Habbazu from hearing
    him. "Will you warn me if he tries to sneak off for his own purposes
    with what we seek?"
     "No!" The ghost's voice in his mind was indignant. "I shall do no
    such thing. I wanted nothing to do with this man from the beginning.
    I want nothing to do with him now. I want you to have nothing to
    Fdo with him now."
     Sharur wanted to pitch the ghost through the nearest mud-brick
    wall. He knew that would not have hurt the immaterial spirit, but it
    would have made him feet better. Instead, he smiled broadly and said,
    "I thank you, ghost of my grandfather. That will help us. That will
    
           I am not helping you," his grandfather's ghost shouted
    at him. "You young people pay no attention to your elders." The
    ghost fell silent, and presumably departed in anger.
     Habbazu, however, could not know that. Not having known
    Sharur's grandfather as a living man, Habbazu could not hear him as
    a ghost. The thief could hear only Sharur. He said, "I would not have
    cheated you even without the ghost watching over me."
     "lt could be so," Sharur answered, nodding. "I think it is so. But,
    because I am not sure it is so, I shall do what I can to protect myself
    Were I trading wares for you here, would you not like to make as
    certain as you could that I was not cheating you?"
    i "Well, so I would," Habbazu said. "Very well; your grandfather's
     ghost will have no cause to complain of me."
      My grandfather's ghost always has cause to complain," Sharur
     answered, and Habbazu laughed, as if that were something other than
    
    -imost often," Sharur said in a low voice as he and Habbazu stepped
    out onto the Street of Smiths, "I go out at night with slaves bearing
    torches to light my way."

    




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    b3,RRY TURT-Le0ove
    
     "Most often, when you go out at night, you want people to know
    you are going out at night," the thief replied. "This is a different
    business. You want to be silent as a bat, stealthy as a wild cat, and
    quick as a cockroach that scuttles into its hole before a sandal crushes
    it.)l
     "And what you need fear now is not the sandal of a kitchen slave,
    but the sandal of Engibil," Sharur said.
     "I fear the sandal of Engibil not so much, for you did turn the god's
    eyes to the north," Habbazu said. "The way you turned the god's eyes
    to the north ... no Zuabi would use such a way, but it worked. I fear
    the flapping sandals of Engibil's priests. An old man who gets up to
    make water at the wrong time could undo me."
     "I thought you have ways to escape such mishaps," Sharur said.
     "I do," Habbazu said. "And you, no doubt, have ways to keep from
    being cheated in your trading. But sometimes your ways fail. Some,
    times my ways fail, as well. Did my ways not sometimes fail, your
    guards would not have caught me when I came to your caravan out-
    side Zuabu."
     Sharur nodded. "I understand. Each trade has its own secrets.
    hope, master thief, you will not need to use any of yours."
     "So do I," Habbazu said. "I like easy work as well as the next Marl,
    as you must enjoy trading with fools for the sake of the profit it brings
    you. I wish I were robbing Enimhursag's temple; with his eyes turned
    away from his city, his priests, those who have not gone to war, will
    surely be sluggish as drones. But you Giblut, you are alert all the
    time."
     "You speak in reproof," Sharur said. "It is not a matter for reproof
    It is a matter for pride. We do not need the god dinning in our ears
    to make us do what we should do. We are men, not children."
     "You are nuisances," Habbazu said. "It is a matter of risk. I am not
    fond of risk when that risk is mine."
     "Ah," Sharur said, and said no more. Up the Street of Smiths
    toward Engibil's temple they strode. Near the end of the stre4 a
    large man stepped out of the deeper shadow of the house. He looked
    in the direction of Sharur and Habbazu for a moment, then drew
    back into the shadows. As Sharur walked on, he listened for the
    sound of rapid footsteps behind him.

    




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                       I I
     I am lucky you are with me, Habbazu said. "Were I alone, that
    footpad might have set on me, for I am not large, and I look like easy
    meat." Suddenly, even in darkness, the edge of a dagger glittered in
    his hand. "A serpent is not large, either, and looks like easy meat.
    But a serpent has fangs, and so have L"
     I have seen your fangs," Sharur said. "So have the Imhursagut."
    He pointed ahead, and felt foolish a moment later: Engibil's temple
    could not have been anything but what it was. "We draw near."
     "Yes." Habbazu had not been making much noise. Now, abruptly,
    he made none at all. He might have been a ghost, walking along
    beside Sharur. Truly, a master thief had talents of his own.
     Sharur looked up and up, toward the god's chamber at the top of
    the temple. No light streamed out from its doors. Engibil was not in
    residence at the moment. Before Sharur could point that out to Hab-
    bazu, the thief waved him into a patch of deep shadow, nodded a
    farewell, and slid soundlessly toward the temple.
     Torches burned outside the main entranceway. Guards paced out-
    side the main entranceway. Sharur wondered how Habbazu could
    hope to get in unseen. But Habbazu, apparently, did not wonder.
     No cries rose from the temple guards. Whatever Habbazu was do-
    ing, it seemed to work. Sharur stood in the deep shadow and waited.
    He had no idea how long the thief would need to enter the temple,
    to find the cup, and to escape. He was not altogether sure whether
    Habbazu could do that, or whether he would face the wrath of En-
     gibil's priesthood and perhaps of the god himself. Again, though,
     Habbazu would not have attempted the theft without confidence he
     would succeed.
      AsSharur waited, he stared up at the heavens. Slowly, slowly, the
     moved over that blue-black dome. The star everyone in the
     and between the rivers knew as Engibil's star was not in the sky.
     Sharur took that as a good omen: the god could not peer down from
     his heavenly observation platform and see Habbazu sneaking toward
     and into his temple.
      Had the men who guarded that temple been caravan guards, they
     would from time to time have come out to check the shadowy places
     not far from the entrance to make sure no one skulked in them. They
     did not. They paced back and forth, back and forth. Perhaps they

    




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    DARRY TURTLr=Oove
    
    did not believe anyone would dare to try to sneak past them. Had
    Sharur been one of them, perhaps he would not have believed anyone
    would dare to try to sneak past, either.
     He yawned. He was not used to being out by night, out in the
    darkness. The darkness was the time for men to sleep. The night was
    the time for men to lie quiet. It would not have taken much for
    Sharur to tie quiet against the wall. It would not have taken much
    for him to sleep.
     He yawned again. The stars had wheeled some way through the
    sky. He glanced toward the east. No, no sign of morning twilight yet.
    He did not think he had been waiting long enough for the sky to
    begin to go gray, but he was starting to have trouble being sure.
     Then, without warning, his grandfather's ghost shouted in his ear-
    "Be ready, boy! The thief comes!"
     "Has he got the cup?" Sharur whispered, exciterAent flooding
    through him and washing away drowsiness as the spring floods of the
    Yarmuk and the Diyala washed away the banks of canals.
                                              ' Jim
     "What? The cup?" his grandfather's ghost repeated. 'No, he hasn~'t
    got the cursed cup. He is pursued, boy-pursued. He'll be lucky to
    make it this far, is what he'll be."
     "I did not think you wanted anything to do with him," Shatur
    said. "I did not think you wanted to go with him into the temple."
     "I did not want anything to do with him," the ghost answered. 1
    did not want to go with him into the temple. But you are flesh of rny
    flesh: flesh of the flesh I once had. You were bound and determined
    to go through with this mad scheme. Since you were bound and
    determined to go through with his mad scheme, I had to help you
    I could, even if I had said I would not."
     "For this I thank you, ghost of my grandfather," Sharur said.
     "Do not thank me yet," the ghost said. "You are not safe yet. I
    have no flesh. I had no trouble leaving Engibil's temple. The thief is
    a living man. He will not find it so easy."
     "What will they do to him if they catch him?" Sharur asked
     "Maybe they will simply kill him," his grandfather's ghost replied,
    "Maybe they will torture him and then kill him. Maybe they will
    torture him and then save him for Engibil's justice, for whatever, e
                                           r, ey
    in which Engibil decides to mete out his justice. Whateve ,
    
    4M ~
     JR
    
    10

    




    I
    
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    13ETWC-CM TDC RI.VC=RS
    
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    choose to do, the house of Ereshguna will fare better if they have not
    got this choice to make."
     "Ghost of my grandfather, you speak truly," Sharur said with a
    shudder. What Engibil could wring out of Habbazu might well touch
    off a war between Gibil and Zuabu, and would surely bring ruin to
    the house of Ereshguna. The second possibility concerned Sharur far
    more than the first. He was a Gibli: his own came before his city, his
    city before his god.
     He heard a thump, and then the sound of running feet-not
    headed in his direction. Cries came from the top of the temple wall:
    "There he goes! After him, you fools!" Some of the guards at the
    entranceway ran off in pursuit of those fleeing footsteps. One man
    fell down, his armor clattering about him. Another tripped over him
    in the darkness, producing fresh clatters and horrible curses. The rest
    of the temple guards pounded on.
     "A good evening to you, master merchant's son." The whisper
    came from right at Sharur's elbow. He whirled, and there beside him
    stood Habbazu.
     "How did you come here?" Sharur demanded, barely remembering
    in his surprise to whisper also. I heard you run off in that direction."
    
     Habbazu's laugh was all but silent. "You heard footsteps. Likewise,
    the priests and the guards heard footsteps. The footsteps you heard
    were not mine. Likewise, the footsteps the priests and the guards
    heard were not mine. Have you seen a mountebank, a ventriloquist,
    who can throw his voice so it seems to come from somewhere far
    fiorn his mouth? The footsteps you heard-likewise, the footsteps the
    priests and the guards heard-seemed to come from somewhere far
    
    fiorn my feet."
     "How do you do that?" Sharur asked.
     "Master merchant's son, this is not the time to linger and ponder
    such things," Habbazu replied. "Neither is this the place to linger
    and ponder such things."
     "He is right. The thief is right," SharuT's grandfather's ghost said.
     Sharur knew Habbazu was right without having his grandfather's
    ghost tell him. As quietly as he could, he withdrew from the place
    of shadow and stole back toward the Street of Smiths. Beside him,

    




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    Habbazu was quieter still. Sharur was a quiet man; the Zuabi
    again, might have been a ghost.
     The ruffian who had thought of challenging Sharur and Habbazu
    as they went toward the temple did not come out when they retreated
    from it. Perhaps he had gone; perhaps he recognized them and con-
    cluded they were still a bad bargain. Either way, Sharur was as giad
    not to encounter him.
     Once back safe in his father's house, Sharur allowed himself the
    luxury of a long sigh of relief. Instead of waking the slaves-waking
    them and making them aware he had come in during the middle of
    the night-he fetched beer and cups with his own hands.
     Only after he and Habbazu had drunk did he ask, "What went
    wrong in the temple of Engibil, master thief?"    I
     Habbazu looked disgusted. "Exactly the sort of thing I feared; ex-
    actly the sort of thing a thief can do nothing to prevent. There I was,
    moving toward the storeroom wherein the Alashkurri cup is secreted.
    There I was, eluding all the guards, eluding all the snares." He paused,
    then added, "Were the god paying close attention to his house, it
    would have been harder. It was not easy, even as things were." He
    sighed.
     "What went wrong, that a thief could do nothing to pre4ent?
    Sharur asked again.
     "A doddering old fool, with a white beard down to here"-Hab-
    bazu poked his own navel with a forefinger-"came tottering out of
    his cubicle, as I had feared one might, most likely because his bladder
    could not hold the beer he had drunk with his supper and he needed
    to ease himself "
     Sharur thought of Ilakabkabu, whom the description fit as a sword-
    hilt fit a man's hand. He said, "Many of the older priests are very
    pious men. Having one of them see you would be the next thing to
    having the god see you."
     "So I found out." Lamplight exaggerated the lines and shadows of
    Habbazu's face, making it into a mask of woe. "This old, white-,
    bearded fool, then, saw me, and his eyes went so wide, I thought they
    would bug out of his head. Would that they had bugged out of his
    head! Would that he had been stricken blind years ago! However
    doddering he is, he still has a fine screech, like that of an owl in a

    




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    thornbush. Other priests started tumbling out of their cubicles, and
    they all started chasing me."
     "How could you escape them?" Shatur asked. "It is not your house.
    It is the house of Engibil. Yet you eluded the priests of the god in his
    house. Truly you must be a master thief."
     "Truly I am a master thief," Habbazu agreed with just a hint of
    smugness. "Truly I am a master thief of Zuabu, sent forth to steal by
    Enzuabu himself. I have ways and means most thieves have not."
     Again, he did not describe what those ways and means were.
    Sharur's trade had secrets of its own, too. He said, "I am glad these
    ways and means let you get free."
     "Master merchant's son, believe me when I tell you that you are
    not half so glad as I am," Habbazu answered. "I did not know if these
    ways and means would suffice, not until I left the temple itself and
    found you faithfully awaiting me."
     "Would another attempt soon be worthwhile?" Sharur asked. "Or
    will the priests and guards in and around Engibil's temple be too wary
    to do what you must do?"
     "They will be wary," Habbazu said. "They will surely be wary. But,
    if we are to do this thing, we had better do it soon. Before long, by
    what I saw, the army of Gibil will have beaten the army of Imhursag.
    Before long, by what I saw, Engibil will no longer need to watch out
    for Enim ursag. Then he will watch out for his temple, and theft will
    grow more difficult."
     "You said you could steal the cup even with the god at home in
    his temple," Sharur reminded him.
     "Yes, I said that. I still think it is true. I still think I could steal
    the cup with the god at home in his temple," Habbazu said. "But, as
    I said just now, theft will grow more difficult with the god at home
     in his temple. And"-he hesitated, as if regretting the admission he
     was about to make-1 may have been wrong."
      "Ah," Sharur said, and no more than ah. At least the thief could
     admit he might have been wrong. Many, perhaps even most, of the
     men Sharur knew would go ahead with a plan once made for no
     better reason than that they had made it. After a pause for thought,
     Sh rur continued, "Then you are right. If we are to do this thing, we
      ad better do it soon."

    




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     "It will not be easy, with the priests alerted," Habbazu said. "It will
    not be simple, with the guards on the lookout for a thief "
     "That is so." Sharur sat in dejection, staring at the pot of beer.
    Then, little by little, he brightened. "It would not be easy, with the
    priests alerted," he said. "It would not be simple, with the guards on
    the lookout for a thief. If they are all looking in a different direction,
    matters may be otherwise."
     "Indeed, master merchant's son, you speak the truth there," Hab.
    bazu said, nodding. "Any thief or mountebank soon learns as much.
    Distract a man, and you will have no trouble stealing from him.
    Distract him, and he is easy to fool."
     "Merchants learn as much, too," Sharur said. "V~lo turned Engi-
    bit's eyes from the temple to the border with Imhursag?" Ae waited
    for Habbazu to nod again, then went on, "We can turn the priests'
    eyes from the temple, too."
     "Tomorrow?" Habbazu asked eagerly.
     "That would be too soon, I think," Sharur answered. "But the day
    after. . ."
    
    The square in front of Engibil's temple was not nearly so fine and
    broad as the market square of Gibil. It was, though, large enough to
    hold a surprising number of entertainers of all sorts. Musicians played
    flutes and pipes and drums and horns, each ensemble's tune clashing
    with those of its neighbors.
     In front of one fluteplayer, a shapely woman wearing a linen shift
    so thin, she might as well have been naked, danced and swayed to
    the rhythm of his music. In front of another fluteplayer, a trained
    snake similarly dance and swayed. Shatur's eyes kept sliding back and
    forth from the woman to the snake as he tried to decide which of
    them moved more sinuously. For the life of him, he could not Make
    up his mind.
     "Come one!" he called, a merchant out to make his sale. "Come.
    all! Gibil wars against Imhursag, aye, but Gibil forgets not those who
    fight not. Here is an entertainment to lighten the hearts of those who
    wait within the city walls, to help them forget their worries."
     Boys paid with broken bits of copper shouted the same message-

    




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    or as much of it as they could remember-through the streets of
    Gibil, Men who had not gone to fight the Imhursagut and women
    who could not go to fight the Imhursagut crowded into the open
    space in front of Engibil's temple to leave their cares behind for a
    time.
     jugglers kept cups and dishes and knives and little statues spinning
    through the air. An enterprising and nimble,fingered fellow used
    three cups and a chickpea to extract property from the spectators
    who tried to guess where it was hidden. He won so regularly, Sharur
    thought he had to be cheating. But Sharur could not see how he was
    doing it, and did not care to pay for instruction.
     From the entranceway into Engibil's temple, the guards stared out
    eagerly at the performers before them. Priests also watched from the
    top of the wall around the temple, and from the high stairways
    within. From the comer of his eye, Sharur watched them watching.
    He made sure he watched them watching only from the comer of his
    eye.
     He knew Habbazu was somewhere nearby. He did not know where.
    He did not try to watch for the Zuabi thief at all. Habbazu knew his
    own business best. Sharur was trying to give him the best chance he
    could to conduct that business without the risk of being disturbed.
     Presently, priests began coming out of the temple and into the
    square. Some of them clapped their hands to the music. Some
    watched the snake sway. Some watched the pretty girl sway. Some
     proceeded to prove they were no better than any other man at guess,
     ing under which cup the chickpea lay.
      After a while, the priest named Burshagga strode up to Sharur.
     The two men bowed to each other. Burshagga said, "Do I understand
     rightly that we have you to thank for this entertainment spread out
     before us?"
     Sharur did his best to look self-effacing. "I thought those left in
      city could use a bit of joy while our army repels the Imhursagut.
      fought in the first battle, and came back to Gibil to put a captive
     into the hands of Ushurikti the slave dealer. Soon I shall return to
     the fighting. In the meanwhile, why should we not be as merry as we
     can~"
                   we should not be as merry as we can," Bur-
    
    see no reason why
    
    HVM

    




    284
    
    b&RRY TURTLebove
    
    shagga. replied. "As I said, we have you to thank for this entertain
    ment spread out before us. No less than men of other trades, priest
    enjoy merriment."
     "This was my thought. This was why I decided to set the A
    tainment here," said Sharur, who did indeed want the priests merry-
    and distracted. But then he pointed in the direction of the entrano.
    way. "Not all your colleagues, I would say, hold the same view."
     There stood Ilakabkabu, his long beard fluttering in the breeze
    he harangued several younger priests. "No good will come of thi,;
    he thundered. "We do not serve the god for the sake of frivolity. V
    do not serve Engibil for the sake of merriment. We serve EAgibil I
    the sake of holiness. We serve the god because he is our great a
    mighty master."
     Burshagga looked disgusted. I will go and settle that interfer'
    old fool."
     I did not mean to cause such difficulties, Sharur said. That,
    also true-he wanted all the priests distracted, and none of th
    preaching against distraction. He strolled along toward Ilaka&
    in Burshagga's wake.
     "Here, what are you doing?" Burshagga called to llakabL,
    "What foolish words fall from your lips now, old man?"
     I speak no foolishness," the old priest answered. I say thal
    should prove our devotion to Engibil with prayers and sacrifices~
    with jugglers and fluteplayers and squirming wenches." He gest
    disparagingly toward the woman dancing in the thin shift.
     "And I say Engibil does not begrudge his priests their pleasu
    Burshagga said. "I am devoted to Engibil. No one can deny
    devoted to Engibil."
     I deny it," Ilakabkabu said. "You are devoted first to yourself,
    to Kimash the lugal ... lugal!" He laced the title with scom.'
    last of all, when you deign to recollect, to the god."
     "Liar!" Burshagga shouted. "Son of a whore! You think &
    cause you have been a priest since before men learned to till th,
    Engibil speaks to you alone. You think that, because you have
    a priest so long your private parts have withered, priests are no
    like other men. Our god is not a god who hates pleasure. Does,~
    himself not counle with courtesans when the urve strikes hiA

    




    ment or delight on his face. llakabkabu, no matter what he thought,
    was at the moment helping to do the work of distracting the temple
    for him.
   Burshagga. rolled his eyes. "I do not think you ever saw that thief.
    ink you were imagining him, as I know you are imagining that
    yo tone can see into the mind of Engibil."
    
    13C-TWEeM T19C RIVC-RS
    
    285
    
     "What the god does is his affair," Ilakabkabu said stolidly. "He is
    the god; he may do as he pleases. But for you to do as you please ...
    you are only a man, and a priest besides. Do not add your shame to
    the disgrace the temple suffered of having a thief penetrate it as
    deeply as Engibil penetrates one of those courtesans you talked
    about."
     Priests and folk of the city gathered round Burshagga. and Ilakab,
    kabu. Wrangling priests were entertainment, too. Sharur listened
    with intent interest on his face. He listened with no trace of amuse-
    
     "And I think that, because you young men were too slow and too
    stupid to catch the thief, you pretend he was never there," Ilakabkabu
    retorted. "You put me in mind of a wild cat when a mouse escapes
    it. The cat sits down and licks its anus, pretending it did not truly
    want the mouse."
     "You are the one who knows everything there is to know about
    the licking of an anus!" Burshagga screeched. He grabbed a double
    handful of Ilakabkabu's long white beard and yanked, hard.
     The old priest screeched, too. He brought up a bony knee between
    Burshagga's legs. Burshagga howled, but did not let go of Ilakabkabu's
    beard. In an instant, the two priests were rolling on the ground,
    gouging and kicking and hitting at each other.
     Most of the Giblut laughed and clapped and cheered them on.
    Some of their fellow priests, however, eventually pulled them apart.
    They kept right on calling each other names. Most of the priests
    seemed to side with Burshagga, as did Sharur-but he knew that
    Itakabkabu had been telling more of the truth here.
     Where was Habbazu? Sharur could look around now, as if to see
     "ho was coming to find out if the brawl would start anew. He did
     '~ot see the master thief. He had not seen the master thief since the
     day's festivities began.
      Where was Habbazu? Was he still waiting his chance? Was he

    




    286
    
    . 1i
    
    1)a.RRy TuRTLcOove
    
    skulking through the nearly deserted corridors of the temple toward
    the storeroom of which he knew? Was he sneaking out of the temple
    chamber with the nondescript Alashkurri cup in his hands? j
     Or had he already sneaked out of the temple with the Alashkuffi'
    cup in his hands? Was he even now leaving Gibil? Was he on his
    way back to Zuabu, on his way back to Enzuabu? How strongly did
    Enzuabu summon him? Where did he put his god? Where did he put
    his city? Where did he put himself?
     Sharur knew what Habbazu had said. He also knew, better than
    most, that the truest test of what a man was lay in what he did, not
    in what he said. Sharur sighed. If Habbazu had deceived him-4
    Habbazu had deceived him, he would know before the sun set.
     Burshagga and Ilakabkabu still shouted insults at each other. The
    insults Ilakabkabu. shouted did nothing to keep more priests from
    coming out of the temple to enjoy the musicians and performers, As
    word of the unusual festivity spread through the city, those who sold
    food and beer also came into the open area in front of Engibil's
    temple. Sharur bought a dozen roasted grasshoppers impaled on a
    wooden skewer and crunched them between his teeth, one after an,
    other, as he watched a dog walk on its hind legs atop a ball carved
    from palm wood.
     At its master's command, the dog climbed a stairway, jumped
    through a hoop, and did other clever tricks. Sharur applauded with
    the rest of the people gathered round it. It gave a canine bow, nose
    to the ground, forelegs outstretched in front of it. Then it ran over
    and stood, wagging its tail, beside the pot in which its owner was
    collecting his reward.
     With a laugh, Sharur tossed a bit of copper into that pot. The dog
    bowed to him then. Its owner said, "Engibil's blessings upon you, my
    master, for your generosity." He bowed, too.
     Sharur politely returned both the dog's bow and the man's, whi
    made the people around him smile. Considering what Habbazu was
    doing or had done or would be doing, Sharur doubted that the dog
    trainer's prayer for Engibil to bless him would be answered. He did
    not speak his doubts aloud. He did his best not even to think of
    them.
    
    A priest came running out of the temple, shouting in alarm.

    




    BETWEEM The RtVERS
    
    28
    
    Sharur's heart leaped into his throat. Outwardly he stayed calm. Nor
    did he show his relief when he heard what the priest was shouting:
    news that another priest of Burshagga's opinion and one of Ilakab-
    
    kabu's were belaborinp each other inside the sacred nrecinct.
    
     "This is disgraceful!" Burshagga cried, rubbing at a scratch over
    one eve. "We embarrass ourselves before the people of the city."
    
     "As you said to Ilakabkabu, you priests are men like other men,
    Sharur told him. "Other men will sometimes quarrel among them-
    selves. The people of the city know that you priests will sometimes
    
    quarrel among yourselves."
    
     Burshagga bowed low to him. "I thank you for your understanding,
    master merchant's son. I thank you for your patience. Would that all
    Giblut were as understanding and patient as you are. We should be
    a better neonle were that so. As thinfs are most will use this as an
    
            I
    excuse to laugh at the priesthood.
    
    Triests are men like other men," Sharur rei)eated. "Other men
    
    at from time to time. So also will priests be laughed
    
    time."
    
    not bow. He did not look pleased. He looked
    
    It ~1_   -3        JA (4XVTL I   I: A:  . :-L
    
    our as m, ree ays o . en peop e augh at US, L M n eS
    the power of the god we serve. When people laugh at us, it diminishes
    
    the power of the lugal who appointed us."
    
    He spoke of the god first now, and only after-wards of the lugal.
    But Sharur knew serving Kimash held a higher place in Burshagga's
    mind than did serving Engibil. Sharur would not have minded seeing
    
    Engibil's power diminished. On the contrary.
    
    He also would not have minded seeing Habbazu. If he had em-
    broiled Gibil and Imhursag in war, if he had managed this lavish
    distraction for the priesthood of Engibil-if he had done all that,
    only to have Habbazu flee with the cup to Zuabu and to Enzuabu, he
    Id be embarrassed. He would deserve to be laughed at.
      urshagga sighed. "In the time of my sons, this will not matter. In
      time of my grandsons, this will be a thing of the past. The old
    
    vanished from the t)riesthood. Mv sons and
    
    randsons will listen to my ghost haranguing them about the way
    
    ngs were when I walked the earth as a living man-they will liste
    they will laugh. And 1, a ghost, shall laugh with them."

    




    288
    
    b3,RRy TuRT1Lr=0ovc
    
     "You say that now," Sharur said. "You see that now. Will you say
    that when you are a ghost? Will you see that when you are a ghost?
    Or will you be angry when they laugh?"
     "I am a man like other men," the living Burshagga said, and
    laughed. "It is likely, then, that I shall be a ghost like other ghosts.
    It is likely that, like other ghosts, I will be angry at the vagaries of
    the living, and angry when they fail to hearken to me in every
    ticular."
     Sharur laughed, too. "You are not altogether a man like other men,
    Burshagga. You are more honest than most. You see more
    than most. You see farther than most."
     "I see a master merchant's son who is flattering me," Burshagga
    said. "But I also try to see what is and what will be, not what I wish
    were so."
     "Here," Sharur said, and waved to one of the beersellers. Buyin-
    a cup, Sharur handed it to Burshagga. "You see a master merchant's
    son who is buying for you a cup of beer."
     "I see a master merchant's son who shows a proper and pious
    spect for the priesthood." A twinkle in his eye, Burshagga drank the
    cup dry. "Ahh! It is good."
     "Which is good?" Sharur asked. "The beer, or that a master mer-
    chant's son shows a proper and pious respect for the priesthood?"
     "Both those things are good," Burshagga answered. He nodded to
    the beerseller. "Here, son of Ereshguna, I will buy you a cup of this
    beer, that you may learn for yourself whether it is good." And he did.
     Sharur drank. As Burshagga had said, the beer was good. He and
    the priest exchanged bows and compliments. Burshagga went off to
    see if he could figure out under which cup the fellow with the nimble
    fingers had concealed the chickpea. Smiling, Sharur saw that the
    fellow with the cups and the chickpea had concealed one thing from
    Burshagga: that the game was unlikely to be as straightforward as it
    seemed.
     With a shrug, Sharur bought another cup of beer for hims
    Burshagga did not know the fellow with the chickpea could make it
    appear wherever it would give him the greatest profit, Sharur did not
    intend to enlighten him. Every craft had its own secrets. Th nest

    




    BETWEEM TbC RIVERS
    
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    would learn these secrets from experience, and would pay for the
    privilege of learning.
     Ilakabkabu came out of the temple once more, and began fervently
    preaching against the frivolous entertainment. He drew a consider-
    able crowd. People clapped and cheered as he flayed them for their
    light~mindedness. Thus inspired, he preached more ferociously than
    ever. He did not notice he too had become part of the entertainment.
     Burshagga gave up trying to find the furtive flying chickpea after
    several moderately expensive lessons. He came over and watched
    Ilakabkabu instead. He said not a word, but his mere presence in-
    spired the pious old priest to new and rancorous heights of rhetoric.
     "He talks like a man on fire," someone beside Sharur remarked.
    Sharur turned, and there stood Habbazu.
     After staring, Sharur asked in a quiet voice, "Have you got it?"
     The master thief looked offended that Sharur should doubt him.
    "Yes," he answered. "Of course I have it."
    
    IL

    





    




    10
    
    Sharur and Habbazu drifted out of the open area in front of Engibil's
    temple. They neither hurried nor dawdled; they might have been-
    indeed, they were-a couple of men who had had enough of enter-
    tainment and now needed to return to the workaday world in which
    they usually passed their time.
     "Now that we have this thing, what shall we do with it?" Habbazu
    asked, taking care not to name the cup. "Shall we take it with us
    when we return to the fight? Shall we secret it away at the house of
    your father?"
     "If we take it with us, it may perhaps be easier for the god to spot,t)
    Sharur answered. "The small gods of Kudurru told me there was little
    Kul 1 of power to be spotted, but I do not know precisely how much
    they knew, nor do I know how much power Engibil can put forth to
    seek the thing should he so will."
     Habbazu nodded. "Wiser to hide it, then. Shall we go on to the
    Itouse of your father?"
      "I have a better notion yet," Sharur said. "Let us take it to the
    
    29
    
    house of one of the smiths along the Street of Smiths. The power of
    metal, the power of smithery, make it harder for the god to peer into
    such places."
    "That is so." Habbazu nodded again. "I have heard Enzuabu com-
    plain of it. What with you Giblut being as you are to begin with, it
    is probably even more true here than in Zuabu."
    "Engibil complains of it, too," Sharur said. "If the gods had it to
    do overl I do not think they would let men learn to work metal. If
    they had it to do again, I do not think they would let men learn to
    write, either. But men have learned to do these things, and even the
    gods cannot have it to do over."

    




    292
    
    bA.RRY TURTILe0ovc
    
     "This is also so," Habbazu said. "Have you the house of some
    particular smith in mind, a man whom you can trust with something
    as important as this? I would not-I do not-care to risk it with
    someone who would return it to the god or who would gossip so that
    its presence were noised abroad."
    
     "Nor would I," Sharur replied. "I have in mind taking it to th
    house of Dimgalabzu, whom you have met.
     "But Dimgalabzu is in the north, in the army of Gibil opposing
    the Imhursagut," Habbazu objected.
     "So he is, Sharur said. "But he is also the father of Ningal, my
    intended bride. She of all people may be trusted not to return tht
    cup to the god."
     "I am glad to hear this is so," Habbazu said. "But she is a woman.
    Are you certain you can trust her not to gossip.
     "More certain than I am that I can trust you not to gossip," Sharur
    said, smiling to show he meant no offense. "You, master thief, I have
    known but a short time. Ningal I have known since we were both
    children getting filthy in the dust of the Street of Smiths."
     "Very well. A point." Habbazu pursed his lips before continuing.
    "But can you likewise trust her kinsfolk? Can you likewise trust the
    slaves in her household?"
     Sharur's grunt was not a happy sound. "That I do not know.
    know that anyone who trusts a slave too far is asking to be disap-
    pointed." Habbazu nodded once more. Sharur said nothing of Gulal,
    Ningal's mother. From what he knew of Gulal, she disapproved of
    everything. That meant she would likely disapprove of his leavi
    the cup in the house of Dimgalabzu.
    His silence gave Habbazu the answer the master thief needed."if
    we do not leave the cup in the house of Dimgalabzu because people
    we can not trust are there, what shall we do with it?"      J
     "Better then that we take it with us after all, I think," Shar~urt
    replied, forgetting what he had said not long before. "Being in among
    a great crowd of men may perhaps make it harder for the go& to
    notice it, or so we can hope." If the god came after it and Sharur was
    close by, he could also try to break it. Again, he kept that thought
    to himself
    
    I

    




    I
    
    UCTWCEN TbG RIVERS
    
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           Habbazu laughed at him. "Since you say first the one thing and
           then the other, I judge that you are as unsure of the wisest course as
            am."
           Sharur laughed too, ruefully. "Perhaps I was wrong earlier. Then
           again, perhaps I am wrong now." He wished he had thought of keep-
           ing the cup close by him earlier.
           They walked past the house of Ereshguna. The house of Dimgal,
           abzu lay a few doors farther up the Street of Smiths from Engibil's
           temple. VA-len Sharur turned to go into the doorway, Habbazu walked
           on straight for half a step before spinning on his heel to follow. "I
           am sorry," Sharur said. "I forgot you did not know which house it
           was.
           "No harm done," Habbazu answered. "Now I know which house
           it is. I shall not forget." Coming from a master thief as it did, that
           was a promise Sharur would have been almost as glad to do without.
           With Dimgalabzu gone to war, the smithy was quiet: no hammer-
           ing, no scraping, no hiss of melted bronze burning off beeswax as it
           poured into a mold, no great crackling roar from the fires. Because
           the fires did not blaze as they did when Dimgalabzu was at home and
           working, that lower chamber was also cooler than Sharur ever re-
           membered finding it. It was not cool-it was far from cool-but he
           did not at once begin to roast in it as if he were a chunk of mutton
           on a spit.
           "Where is everyone?" Habbazu asked in a low voice that suited
           the dim quiet of the chamber.
           "I do not know," Sharur said. "A slave or two should be down
           here, if no one else. But slaves are lazy creatures. Perhaps they are
           lying on their mats instead."
           "Perhaps they have sneaked away to the entertainment you ar-
           ranged in front of Engibil's temple," Habbazu said.
             "Perhaps hey have." Sharur had not thought of that. He smiled;
    7if the entertainment had distracted not only the priests but also Dim-
    galabzu's slaves, so much the better. He also kept a close eye on
    Habbazu, not wanting the master thief to practice his craft in this
    house.
    A woman's voice came from uvstairs: "Is someone down there?"

    




    294
    
    bZ,RRY TURTLeOove
    
     Now Habbazu eyed Sharur. Habbazu could not know whose voice
    that was. It could have been Ningal's. It could have been her
    mother's. It could have been a slave woman's. Sharur would know.
     Sharur did know. Relief filled him. Now he had at least a chance
    to do what he had hoped to do. "It is Sharur the son of Ereshguna,
    and a friend," he called. Habbazu's eyes lit up. He mouthed Ningal's
    name. Sharur nodded.
     But would his intended come downstairs by herself? Would Gulal,
    her mother, accompany her, as was customary? Would a slave woman
    accompany her if her mother did not?
     She came down the stairs alone. Sharur's heart leaped. Habbatu
    spoke in an admiring whisper. "You are a fortunate man."
     "I thank you," Sharur whispered back. He raised his voice: "Nin,
    gal, I present to you my comrade, Burrapi, a mercenary of Zuabu."
     Habbazu bowed low. Politely, Ningal inclined her head. "Why do
    you and your comrade visit the house of Dimgalabzu?" she asked. By
    her tone, she meant, I am glad to see you, but what is he doing here?
     "I brought in to Ushurikti the slave dealer an Imhursaggi prisoner
    I captured," Sharur replied. "Burrapi here accompanied me to help
    guard the man. Now we are going back to fight again. Before we go,
    we have something we need to leave with you."
     "What thing is this?" Ningal asked.
     Sharur nodded to Habbazu. Habbazu opened the pouch he wore
    on his belt-a larger pouch than most men might wear, but nowhere
    near large enough to draw any special notice-and drew from it the
    Alashkurri cup he had stolen from the temple of Engibil.
     This being the first time Sharur had set eyes on it, he stared with
    no small interest. But, as Habbazu had said, as the small gods Mitas
    and Kessis had implied, it was nothing out of the ordinary. He had
    drunk beer from cups like it many times in the mountains of Alash-
    kurru. It was of yellowish Alashkurri clay, ornamented with twisting
    black-glazed snakes. The potter who had shaped it and fired it had
    been a capable enough man, but he was no master.
     Ningal's dark eyebrows rose as Habbazu handed her the cup,
    "What am I to do with this?" she asked.
     "Keep it safe," Habbazu answered. "Let no harm befall it."
     "Keep it secret," Sharur added. "Let not Gulal your mother know

    




    13CTWCCN TI)C RIVERS
    
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    you have it. Let not Dimgalabzu your father, when he comes home
    from the war, know you have it. Let not the slaves of this household
    know you have it. If the servants of Kimash the lugal come through
    the Street of Smiths searching, let them not know you have it. If the
    priests of Engibil come through the Street of Smiths searching, let
    them not know you have it, either."
     The eyebrows of his intended rose higher still, until for a moment
    they seemed almost to brush her hairline. "I had not thought anyone
    would speak thus of gold and lapis lazuli, let atone a common cup-
    except, I gather from your words, it is no common cup. What makes
    it other than a common cup, if one of outlandish style?"
     Habbazu shot Sharur a warning glance. For his part, Sharur needed
    no warning. He said, "Better you had not asked this question. What
    you do not know, you cannot tell another."
     "If you cannot keep it thus, give it to us once more, that we may
    take it elsewhere, Habbazu said. "For it must be safe. It must be
    secret."
     Ningal did not return the cup. "It shall be safe here. You have no
    business doubting that." She looked indignant. "It shall be secret
    here. You may be certain of that."
     Habbazu glanced once more at Sharur, saying without words, You
    know her better than I. May we be certain of that? "If Ningal says a
    thing is so, you may rely on it," Sharur said. He turned toward his
    intended and nodded. "It is good. Now we must go back to the fight-
    ing.l~
     "May Engibit keep both of you safe," Ningal said. "May the god
    of this city hold harm away from both of you."
     "May it be so," Sharur and Habbazu said together. Irony glinted
    in the master thief's eyes. Sharur nodded, ever so slightly, to show
    he understood. If Engibil detected what they had done, he would
    neither keep them safe nor hold harm away from them. He would be
    far more likely to put them in danger and bring harm down upon
     them.
      Gulal's voice came from upstairs: "Who is it, Ningal?"
      "'A customer of Father's and his friend, Mother," Ningal answered.
     Strictly speaking, that was true, though what Sharur purposed buying
     hom Dimgalabzu was Ningal herself The words also gave Sharur and

    




    296
    
    bXRRY TUR-rLcOovc
    
    Habbazu the chance to slip out of Dimgalabzu's house unnoticed by
    anyone but Ningal. She nodded to them both as they left. , I
     While they were making their way up the Street of Smiths toward'
    the northern gate of Gibil, Habbazu said, "That is indeed a fine
    woman you have as your intended. Not only is she good to look on,
    she has sharp wits as well. Over the years, you will come to value the
    second more than the first."
     Sharur made what he thought was a polite, noncommittal noise.
     It must have been neither so polite nor so noncommittal as he had
    thought, for Habbazu burst into raucous laughter. "You think her
    wits will not matter so very much. You think on how she will look
    the night of her wedding, when you couple with her for the first time.
    You think of the pleasure your prong will know. Now, I have nothing
    against the pleasures of the prong-believe me when I tell you this
    is true. But believe me also when I tell you the pleasure you take in
    a woman's good looks fades far faster than the pleasure you take in
    her good sense. I have more years than you; I know whereof I speak."
     Sharur considered the marriage between his father and his mother.
    Betsilim had been a beautiful young woman, nor had the years robbed
    her too badly. But Ereshguna relied on her now in ways he surely
    had not when she was younger. That was not because he had lost
    capacity, but because he had come to respect hers. Thoughtfully,
    Sharur said, "You may be right."
     "Ha!" Habbazu said in surprise, and clapped him on the back. 1
    did not look for you to admit even so much." Side by side, they
    walked on toward the gate.
    
    Men came south from the fighting as Sharur and Habbazu walked
    north toward it. Some led dour prisoners who would become slaves,
    as Sharur had done a few days before. Some were hurt themselves,
    too badly to let them keep fighting but not so badly as to keep them
    off their legs.
     "No, no big fights the last couple of days," one of the latter said.
    His right arm was bound tightly against his chest. When Sharur asked
    him how he had been injured, he looked sheepish.
    
    "How, ftiend! I

    




    131ETWEeM T EF IVE! S
    
    297
    
    tripped over a spearshaft in camp and came down on this wrist, which
    broke. But when I Let into Gibil"-he winked-1 shall tell them
    
    what a hero I was."
    
    "It is good," Sharur said, laughing. With a wave of his good arm
    
    the man with the broken wrist trudged on toward the city.
    
      abbazu said, "It is good indeed. If we return to the army before
    it fights another great fight, no one can possibly blame us for having
    
    been gone a few days.
    
    "You speak the truth," Sharur said. Lowering his voice, he contin-
    
    ued, "Nor has there been any great hue and cry coming up the road
    from behind us. I take this to mean either that your theft has gone
    undiscovered or that it havinQ been discovered the nriests know not
    
    in which direction to search."
    
     "Either of those would suit me well enough," Habbazu replied.
    "Better that the theft go undiscovered of course but not tracinp it
    
    to me would do-will do."
    
     They reached the Gibli encampment the next morning. "Go&
    you have returned, my son," Ereshguna said. "Good you remain ir
    the city no longer. The Imhursagut regain their insolence; Enimhur
    
    sag regains his arrogance. They will, I think, soon come forth in battic
    once more."
    
    "When they do we shall defeat them " Sharur said confidently
    
    He gestured; at his urging, Ereshguna and Tupsharru put their head
    close to his. He went on in a whisper, and an oblique whisper at that
    "Good also we went down to the city. We accomplished all that w(
    hoped to accomplish. Duabzu the Imhursaggi captive is in Ushurikti'
    hands. He will bring a good price or a good ransom. And. . ." Hi
    
    away. Some things he preferred not to say, ever
    
     Tupsharru looked puzzled for a moment. Ereshguna did not. H(
    asked, "And is it with you?" For obliquity, that was hard to match
    Sharur shook his head. Tupsharru. suddenly grunted, realizing wha
    his father and brother had to be talking about. Ereshguna asked
    
    Sharur hesitated. Every merchant's instinct in him screamed tha
    that had to remain as secret as it could. He glanced over at Habbazu

    




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    bz,Rp,y TuR-rLeOovc
    
    The master thief's face bore no expression whatever. Sharur under'
    stood what that meant: Habbazu did not want the secret spread more
    widely, either.
     Gently, Ereshguna said, "The Imhursagut, as I told you, will soon
    come forth in battle once more. May the gods decree otherwise, but,
    if you should fall, my son, and if Burrapi the Zuabi mercenary shol
    also fall, who then would know where it is?"
     "Ah," Sharur said. He glanced over at Habbazu again. Almost
    imperceptibly, Habbazu nodded. Despite that nod, Sharur revealed
    as little as he could: "Ningal the daughter of Dimgalabzu would
    know."
     "Would she indeed?" Ereshguna murmured. "Would she indeed?
    But not Gulal, her mother? Not the slaves of the household?"
     "No, not Gulal, her mother," Sharur said. "Not the slaves of the
    household, either."
     Tupsharru grunted again. "Burrapi the Zuabi mercenaryl" he ex-
    claimed. "Servants of Kimash the lugal were here the other day, A-
    ing about Burrapi the Zuabi mercenary. Since he was not with us,
    since we could not produce him, they were easily satisfied, and soon
    returned to the lugal's pavilion."
     "Kimash and his men are no doubt curious
    
                                             t~
                                             ue39
                                  to learn whether B r,
    rapi the Zuabi mercenary and Habbazu the Zuabi master thief are b
    chance the same man," Ereshguna said.
     "What an absurd idea," Habbazu said indignantly. Sharur, Eresh-
    guna, and Tupsharru. all laughed.
     Tupsharru said, "If it please the Zuabi mercenary, he might now
    return to his native city, whither we would send him no small te-
    ward."
     Habbazu shook his head. "So long as I may do so, I would sooGer
    stay. What we have done does not affect you only. It affects my 01)d,
    it affects my city, it affects me."
     "What you say does not dishonor you, nor your city, nor your ga
    Ereshguna said. Habbazu bowed. Shatur noted what neither his father
    nor the thief seemed to see: that Habbazu had named Enzuabu first,
    then Zuabu, with himself last, while Ereshguna, a Gibli to the cor
    reversed the thief's order.
      Perhaps, Sharur said, you would be wise, Hab ... ah, Burrapi,
    
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    not to make your return to this encampment widely known. You
    might do best to stick close to our fire here."
     "Now this is good advice, prudent advice, and I shall take it,"
    Habbazu said. "A thief oftentimes needs to move in secret. A thief
    frequently needs to hide himself in plain sight."
     "What if the men of Kimash the lugal come searching for you
    again?" asked Tupsharru, who was inclined to worry and to borrow
    trouble.
     "I am now forewarned against the men of Kimash the lugal, Hab
    bazu said. "Let them come searching for me again. Again, they shall
    not find me."
     "The master thief does not presume to tell us how to get the best
    price for an ingot of bronze or a pot of date wine of high-medium
    grade," Ereshguna said to Tupsharru. "I, for my part, shall not pre-
    sume to instruct him how best to manage his own affairs."
     1 understand, Father," Sharur's younger brother said, and hung
    his head.
     "Has Engibil been active here along the border since Burrapi and
    I went down to the city of Gibil?" Sharur asked hopefully: the more
    active along the border the god was, the less interest he would have
    had in looking into his temple when Habbazu robbed it, and the less
    interest he would have had in looking into it after Habbazu robbed
    it as well.
     Ereshguna and Tupsharru both nodded, which brought a smile not
    only to Sharur's face but also to Habbazu's. Ereshguna said, "Engibil
    has been active indeed. Yesterday morning, he and Enimhursag began
    screaming insults at each other. They were both so loud and fierce,
    we thought they would come to blows themselves rather than leaving
    it to the men of their cities to fight it out. In the end, though, they
    took it no further than screams, and I am just as well pleased at that."
     "Why?" Sharur said. "If Engibil slew Enimhursag, we would not
    have to endure wars with the Imhursagut every generation."
     "If that happened, you would be right," Ereshguna agreed. "But
    what if Enimhursag slew Engibil? We do not know what would hap-
    pen if the two gods did battle each other, and I am satisfied to remain
     ignorant."
      Sharur wondered if Gibil might not be better off were Engibil to

    




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    be slain. Could a city go on with only a lugal and no indwelling god
    at all? No city in the land between the rivers had ever done such a
    thing. No city or town or fortress anywhere in the world had ever
    done such a thing, so far as Sharur knew. Maybe no one anywhere
    in the world had ever imagined such a thing before.
     Of itself, his right hand slid down to cover the eyes of the amulet
    to Engibil. The god probably would not pick this moment to examine
    his thoughts. But he wanted to make as sure of that as he could.
    Having Engibil learn what he was thinking now would be ... disas,
    trous wasn't nearly a strong enough word.
     "On this matter, I am also just as well pleased not to know," Hab,
    bazu said. "Too much power, too much danger, were god to fight god
    straight up."
     Tupsharru said, "Maybe that's why gods made men in the first
    place-to give them tools with which they could challenge each
    other without meeting face to face."
     "No one knows why the gods made men in the first place," Eresh-
    guna said. "Priests do not know. Sages do not know. Scribes do not
    know. Merchants do not know. I have heard it said that even the
    gods do not know, or do not remember. Whether this be so or not"-
    his craggy features crinkled into a smile-1 do not know."
     "My brother's idea makes as much sense as any I have heard,"
    Sharur said. "It makes more sense than most I have heard."
     "This does not prove it is true." Ereshguna and Habbazu spo'e
    together. Master merchant and master thief looked at each other in
    some surprise, then started to laugh.
     Ereshguna said, "Here we are, two older men, trying to restrain the
    enthusiasm of younger men. When we were younger men, the old,
    men would try to restrain us."
     "Even so, Habbazu said. "And when your two ne sons are o r
    men, they too will try to restrain the enthusiasms of the young."
     He and Ereshguna laughed again. Sharur and Tupsharru ex,
    changed indignant glances. Sharur did not think that, when he grew
    older, he would try to hold back those younger than himself. He
    wondered if his father, when a young man, had also doubted he would
    do any such thing. Looking over at Ereshguna, Sharur thought he
    probably had had those doubts. Despite them, Ereshguna had
    
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    changed. Maybe that meant Sharur would change, too. He hoped
    not, but maybe it did.
    
    Brazen trumpets roused the Giblut the next morning. Ram's-hom
    tj
    rumpets roused the Imhursagut-a different sort of braying. Along
    with those harsh blasts from the Imhursaggi camp came the cries of
    Enimhursag himself, easily audible across the space between the two
    encampments: "Rouse, men of Imhursag! Today I lead you to victory
    over the liars and cheats of Gibil!"
     Sharur smiled to hear the outrage in the god of Imhursag's voice.
    Much of that outrage, he knew, was aimed straight at him. He had
    lied to Enimhursag, saying Engibil had run mad and the Giblut
    wanted a new divine overlord. He had cheated Enimhursag, getting
    him to invade the land of Gibil on those false pretenses.
     Engibil's voice was nowhere to be heard. Kimash's bronze-lunged
    heralds cried out the lugal's orders: "Smiths and scribes and mer-
    chants to the front! As we fought before, so shall we fight again."
     On went the armor of bronze scales over leather. On went the
    helmet, of similar design. Wearing both, Sharur felt as if he had been
    thrown into one of Dimgalabzu's furnaces. Sweat poured off him, a
    river of sweat, a river that seemed to flow as powerfully as the Yarmuk.
     "Forward the Giblut!" Kimash shouted. The army he led echoed
    his war cry: "Forward the Giblut! "
     "Enimhursag! " the warriors of Imhursag shouted back. "Enimhur-
    sag!" As he had done on the first day of the fighting, the god of the
    Imhursagut towered over his men, huge, menacing-and, Sharur
    thought, less dangerous than he appeared. Along with the rest of the
    Giblut, he jeered at Enimhursag and reviled him.
     Axles squealing, the donkey-drawn chariots of the Giblut began
    to maneuver against those of Imhursag. Kimash had more chariots
    with him than did the Imhursagut. Before long, Shatur was sure, the
    elite archers of his home city would overpower their foes and pour
     shafts into the opposing army from the flank. If it had happened so
      the earlier battle, it was likely to happen again in this one.
      But, he soon discovered, even Enimhursag, the champion of the
      in all ways, did not always precisely repeat himself The god of
 
    
    




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    Imhursag could not advance beyond the frontmost line of his war-
    riors. But that did not mean, as it had meant in the earlier battle,
    that he could exert no power beyond the frontmost line of his war,
    riors.
     Enimhursag stooped alongside a tiny canal only a couple of cubits
    wide. \When he rose, his enormous hands were full of mud. As a small
    boy might have done, he shaped the mud into a ball-but this ball
    was more than half as big around as a man was tall. The god flung it
    at a Gibli chariot.
     It hit the donkeys and knocked them kicking. The chariot itself
    flipped over, spilling the archers out into the dirt. Enimhursag
    stooped, rose, and shaped another ball of mud. He aimed and let fly.
     This time, the mudball squarely struck a chariot. The car shattered.
    The donkeys ran wild, braying their terror. One of the men who had
    been in the chariot somehow staggered to his feet. The others did
    not move.
     The Imhursagut cheered themselves hoarse. Enimhursag method,
    ically began to form still another ball of mud. Advancing beside
    Sharur, Ereshguna said, "The god of the Imhursagut has found some,
    thing dangerous to do. But he has not found out how to do it in the
    most dangerous way."
     As if thinking along with Ereshguna, Kimash cried, "Close with
    them! Let us meet the Imhursagut sword to sword, mace to mace,
    body to body! Close with them! Forward the Giblut!"
     Forward the Giblut went, at a trot. Enimhursag threw at anoth
    chariot and missed. His curses were enormous. He threw again, and
    smashed a car to kindling. No Giblut staggered from that wreck.
     Enimhursag needed longer to realize he was making a mistake than
    had either Ereshguna or Kimash the lugal. The Gibli army had almost
    closed with the Imhursaggi force before the god threw the first mud,
    ball into that crowded mass of men. It bowled over a dozen, maybe
    more, not far from Sharur. Some of them could still scream. Some
    would be forever silent. The men who were not hurt ran on, towat~d
    the Imhursagut.
     Enimhursag let fly with yet another missile. It smashed down an,
    other double handful of men. By then, though, the front ranks of the
    Giblut, Sharur among them, crashed into the armored nobles and

    




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    priests and traders at the head of the Imhursaggi force. All the Giblut
    hurled themselves forward with desperate energy-the sooner they
    mingled with the Imhursagut, the sooner the god of Imhursag would
    have to leave off throwing balls of mud at them for fear of hitting
    his own men.
     An Imhursaggi priest, crying out his god's name, swung his ax at
    Sharur as if he intended chopping down a date palm. Sharur had to
    skip back; he had no hope of beating that stroke aside. "Enimhursag
    is my protector!" the priest shouted, drawing back the ax to strike
    again.
     Before he could swing it a second time, Sharur slashed at him. The
    priest's armor turned the first swordstroke. The next, which was
    aimed at his neck, he had to block with the handle of his ax.
     Then a wounded Imhursaggi stumbled into him from the side,
    throwing him off balance. Sharur's blade bit deep. Blood filled the
    priest's beard. He toppled with a groan, the ax falling from nerveless
    fingers. "Enimhursag does not protect you well enough," Sharur said.
    "Enimhursag does not protect Imhursag or the lmhursagut well
    enough."
     If Engibil was on the battlefield, if Engibil was even watching the
    battlefield, he gave no sign of it. If anyone was going to protect the
    men of Gibil, they themselves had to do it. And so they did, crying
    out Kimash's name-and also Engibil's-as they smashed into and
    'through the Imhursagut.
     Many men from Sharur's city-smiths and scribes and merchants-
    Instead of fleeing from Enimhursag, made straight for him. They
    stabbed and slashed at his feet and hacked away at his ankles with
    axes, Ichor poured from the wounds they made.
      The god of Imhursag bellowed in rage and pain. He stomped sev-
    eral Giblut into the dirt. In so doing, though, he also stomped into
    the dirt several of his own priests. His most devoted followers did
     their best to place their own bodies between the god they loved and
     the ferocious Giblut. Destroying the priests in that way seemed to
     wound Enimhursag as sorely as anything the men of Gibil could do
     to him.
      Sharur too fought his way toward Enimhursag. He knew the stroke
     he wanted' to deliver against the god who ruled the city rival to his

    




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    I)ARRY TURT]LcOove
    
    own. "The back of the heel," he muttered. If he could cut through
    the tendon there, Enimhursag would fall, no matter how large he
    was. He would fall the harder, indeed, for being so large. 4
     An Imhursaggi stood close by Enimhursag's ankle. He blocked th~
    way against Sharur-or he did until Dimgalabzu's ax slammed
    through his armor and his ribs and crumpled him to the ground
    thank you, father of my intended," Sharur shouted, and hewed at
    tendon that went up the back of Enimhursag's enormous leg.
     Enimhursag roared like a lion. He bellowed like a bull. His ichor
    smelling of thunderstorms, splashed onto Sharur. It was hot, but
    did not bum. Instead, it made him tingle and quiver all over. UA
    his helmet, his hair stood on end. It was indeed as if lightning had
    struck close by.
     But the god of Imhursag did not topple. The god of Imhursag d
    not fall. Sharur was only a mortal man, and had not the strength to
    cut that mighty tendon through and through. The wound pained
    Enimhursag. It failed to cripple him.
     "Let me have a try!" Dimgalabzu cried, and swung his ax as Sharur
    had swung his sword.
     Enimhursag roared again. This time, Sharur thought he heardfear
    along with pain and fury. The Giblut were tiny next to the tremen,
    dous self he had chosen, but they had found a way of hurting him
    that might do real harm. He glared down at Sharur and Dimgalabzu,
    hate suffusing his face.
     "Go back to your own city!" Sharur shouted. "Go back to your
    own city, and leave us Giblut alone!" He chopped at the god's heel
    tendon again.
     Had Enimhursag kept his wits about him, he could have crushed
    Sharur and Dimgalabzu under his foot, as he had crushed other Gi-
    blut. But he might also have crushed men of his own city-men who,
    like the fallen priest, still strove to protect him. And the realization
    that the Giblut truly might endanger him rather than being only
    nuisances must have struck terror into his outsized heart.
     Instead of trampling the men who tormented him, the god turned
    and, in a few great strides, withdrew from the battlefield. Sharur sent
    up a cry of exultant joy: "Enimhursag flees!"
     "Enimhursag flees!" Dimgalabzu echoed with a great bass shout.

    




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    In a moment, all the Giblut took up the cry- "Enimhursag flees!
    Enimhursag flees!"
     "Enimhursag flees!" The Imhursagut shouted it, too. In their voices
    was no exultation. Horror choked their cries. Dismay filled them.
    Fear made them quaver. "Enimhursag flees!" Perhaps the Imhursagut
    had not imagined such a disaster could befall them. When it did,
    they had none of the self-reliance the Giblut might have possessed
    with which to withstand it.
     "Enimhursag flees!" The Imhursaggi line wavered as courage
    drained from more and more of the Imhursagut. If their god would
    not defeat the men of Gibil, how were they to do so without his aid?
    Most of them saw no answer to the riddle. Most of them ran away,
    too, howling their terror.
     Here and there, a man or a clump of men still stood boldly. Here
    and there, a few brave warriors tried to stem the rout. The Giblut
    swarmed over them and cut them down. Even as Sharur slew a man
    of that forlorn rear guard, he knew a moment's sorrow. The men who
    stood, the men who fought on after their god abandoned them, were
    the men most like those of Gibil, the men most fully themselves and
    least tiny reflections of Enimhursag.
     He and the men of his city rolled over those partly emancipated
    Imhursagut and after the warriors who fled. This time, the men of
    Imhursag did not pause to defend their encampment. A few did
    snatch what they could from their tents, but only a few. More of
    those were nobles than Imhursaggi peasants: the nobles, of course,
    had more possessions over which to concern themselves.
     "Forward the Giblut!" Kimash shouted as his own men swarmed
    into the camp the Imhursagut were abandoning. "Forward! Later will
     ome the time to loot. Presently will come the time to plunder. Now
    
     mes the time to finish the foe. Forward the Giblut!"
     Most of the men of his city obeyed him and kept on pursuing the
      rsagut. Some, however, stopped and stole whatever struck their
     y. The Giblut, for better and for worse, were their own men first,
    men of their city second.
     Habbazu, in this regard, also proved to be his own man first. When
    Sharur had gone to swing his sword against Enimhursag's heel, he
    had lost track of the Zuabi master thief Now Habbazu, catching up

    




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                                               .-A
    to him, glittered with gold and sparkled with AM 1, having festooned , j
    himself with necklaces and armlets and rings. VroLning at Sharur, hA
    said, "I have made a profit on this day that -ioxi master merchant's
    would envy."
    
     "See that you do not purchase this profit at 41TI cost of your life,"
    Sharur answered. "If you make your arm so My with silver and
    gold that you cannot lift it either to attack or to I-Vend, then bronze
    may be your end. You would wish yourself better terved by it and less
    well by precious metals."
     Habbazu answered by swinging his own 101 M11 sword in Sharur's
    face. The blade had blood on it. "Fear not," OR-- thief said. "The
    Imhursagut will bear witness that I am not too l1qurdened to battle.
    Several of them will bear witness only to those -MAo knew them well
    enough in life to hear them moan and complain as ghosts."
     "Good enough, then," Sharur replied, and .4%gged on after the
    broken army of Imhursag.
     No more than the men of his city had Oil M11 lVisag lingered at the
    army's encampment. The god of Imhursag fled -.111ead of his warriors
    toward the broad canal that marked the border 7M-ween the territory
    of Gibil and the land he ruled. He crossed the w.Lnal in a couple of
    enormous strides; the water bore his weight as -i--adily as land had
    done.
     Once back on the soil his city ruled, the soil I-- ruled himself, he
    turned back toward his army and shouted in a --qrat voice: "To me,
    my children! To me, my chicks! Back to our 'Mod-to the land of
    the pure, to the land of the good, to the land oil the honest. Away
    from the land of Gibil-away from the land of -atrpents, away from
                                              "M
    the land of scorpions, away from the land of M'   a
     "Away from the land of Gibil! " the GiblutI&Ljd. "Away from the
    land of warriors, away from the land of heroes, way from the land,
    of men."
     But the Imhursagut could not cross the wide wocal without wetting
    their feet, as Enimhursag had done. They had to .,Ade in and ft de
                                           OuR 'I
    across. Gibli archers gleefully plied them with -.iitows as they Ze
    as they floundered.
     When those arrows were aimed at men who %,i;Qre more than half,

    




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    way across the canal, and more particularly at men dragging them-
    selves up onto land on the Imhursaggi side, many of them went wide
    or fell short-more than could be accounted for by bad shooting.
     "Enimhursag protects them," Ereshguna said as he came up along-
    side Sharur. The older man looked and sounded very tired; he was
    breathing in great panting gasps. But he still thought clearly. Sharur
    could not remember an occasion on which his father had failed to
    think clearly. Ereshguna went on, "Now they are on Imhursaggi land.
    Now they are on land Enimhursag possesses as his own. The Imhur-
    saggi god has greater powers on land he possesses as his own."
     "An yet land Enimhursag once possessed as his own is now Gibli
    land," Sharur answered. He stamped his foot on the muddy ground
    near the edge of the canal. "This land we stand on now is land
    Enimhursag once possessed as his own. He possesses it as his own no
    more; it is now Gibli land." He pointed north. "If Kimash the lugal
    wills it, we may make more land Enimhursag once possessed as his
    own into Gibli land. Once more, we have beaten the god and his
    folk in war."
     "Once more, we have beaten them," Ereshguna agreed. "If Kimash
    the lugal wills it, I shall go on into Imhursag. I shall go on into the
    land Enimhursag possesses as his own. But the fighting there will be
    harder, for it is land the god has held for long and long, land he has
    made his. I hope Kimash will decide routing the Imhursaggi army
    and humiliating the god of Imhursag are punishments enough."
     "And L" Sharur nodded emphatically. "We have other things with
    which to concern ourselves." He said no more than that. Engibit
    might be listening. Engibil might come to the northern border of the
    land of Gibil to jeer at Enimhursag over his failed invasion. Or En-
    gibil might come to the northern border of the land of Gibil in search
    of the stolen Alashkurri cup. If he did come in search of the cup, he
    would come in wrath. Sharur wanted to do nothing that would draw
    his notice.
     Kimash came up to the banks of the canal. Donkeys in gilded
    harness drew him in his chariot, which was likewise adomed with
    gold leaf With his armor and helmet also gilded, he glittered al-
    Most-almost-like a god. Cupping his hands before his mouth, he
    t,
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    shouted across the canal: "Go home, men of Imhursag! Go home,
    god of Imhursag! You are not welcome here. You have seen you are
    not welcome here."
     Sharur cheered. So did the rest of the Giblut drawn up along the
    canal. Mixed with the cheers were jeers for the god of the rival city,
    and also jeers for the men who fought at his command.
     "You Giblut are mad!" Enimhursag shouted back. "You should be
    slain like mad dogs, lest your madness infect all the land between the
    rivers."
     "We have beaten you," Kimash replied. "If you dare set foot on
    Gibli soil once more, we shall beat you again." The Giblut rai?ed
    another cheer. Enimhursag shook his great fist at them, but remained
    silent. The lugal went on, "Stay on the soil that is yours, and we
    shall have peace. You may ransom prisoners we have taken; those
    not ransomed will be sold as slaves in the usual way. The booty from
    your encampment is ours, of course."
     Eninihursag's scowl was fearsome, but still the god said nothi
    more. Ereshguna murmured, "Kimash, it seems, does not wish to cross
    over into Imhursaggi land. It is good."
     "I suppose so," Sharur said, "though, thinking on it, Engibil might
    be happy and busy and distracted if he had to begin to rule new lands
    we had won for him with spear,and sword."
     "He would not do the fighting, though," his father replied. "He
    would not battle alongside us as Enimhursag has battled for the Im,
    hursagut. He would merely enjoy the benefit of our labors. As
    I am contented with the way things have gone."
     "Perhaps you are right, Father," Sharur said. "And whether I am
    contented or not, it is the way things have gone, and I must accept
    it.))
     No sooner had he said that than Enimhursag turned his back on
    the land of Gibil: the god also accepted the way things had gone,
    whether it contented him or not. Recognizing that, some of the Gi-
    blut cheered. Others jeered again, loudly and lewdly. Enimhursag's
    great shoulders slumped.
    
     Suddenly, the god's gigantic form disappeared. Some of the men
    of Gibil exclaimed in surprise. "Has he perished?" someone,*ar
    Sharur asked.

    




    I
    
    1BETWEE" TbE! RIVCRS
    
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     "No," Sharur said in a loud voice, so many could hear. "Usually,
    the god sees and speaks through one of the Imhursagut, picking the
    man or woman best suiting his purpose at the time. The rest of the
    Imhursagut will obey such folk, knowing Enimhursag inhabits them.
    That he no longer wears the great body proves he intends to fight
    no more."
     "It is over," Ereshguna agreed. "It is over, and we have won the
    day."
    
    Sharur and Ereshguna took no part in the plundering of the Imhur-
    saggi camp on the way back to their own. "I would sooner not quarrel
    with men of my own city over trinkets," Ereshguna said. "Let others
    squabble over them; chances of finding anything worth trading or
    keeping are not good now. I would sooner return to our own en-
    campment and drink dry a pot of beer."
     "It is good," Sharur said, and went on with his father.
     Tupsharru. and Habbazu went in among the abandoned tents to
    see what they could find. In addition to the precious prizes he had
    already gained, Habbazu came back with a gilded helm, a fine bronze
    sword, and a dagger with a hilt inlaid with silver. Tupsharru carried
    an ax with a handle similarly inlaid back to the Gibli camp.
     "Perhaps we were wrong," Sharur said to Ereshguna, eyeing the
    plunder with admiration.
     "Perhaps we were," Ereshguna said. "But I have beer in my belly.
    I have bread in my belly. It is not perfect, but it will do."
     Habbazu, who was dipping up a cup of beer for himself, bowed to
    Ereshguna. " 'It is not perfect, but it will do,' " he repeated, cleverly
    mimicking the master merchant's intonations. "There speaks a man
    who has lived in the world and taken its measure."
     "I have lived in the world," Ereshguna said. "Whether I have taken
     ts measure is for others to say, not for me. What I will say is that,
ver the years, the world has taken my measure: taken my measure,
         cut and trimmed and pounded me to serve its purposes."
     "That is the way of the world." Habbazu glanced over toward
    
    arur and Tupsharru. "Your sons, I think, are still too young to agree

    




    310          bXRRY TURTLEDOVE             I
    
     "Likely you are right." Ereshguna also glanced toward Sharur and
    Tupsharru. His gaze was affectionate, not calculating.
     Sharur said, "What I think is that Burrapi the Zuabi mercenary
    should disappear from this camp, and disappear soon. I think some.
    one who answers to a different name should go down to the city of
    Gibil and take up lodging above a tavern or with a family that will
    let him use a room for pay. I think it would be best if he did this
    before the servitors of Kimash the mighty lugal come asking questions
    concerning that mercenary."
     Habbazu inclined his head. "You may be young, son of Ereshguna,
    but you give good advice. I have seen this before. I now see it againjo'
    He drank down the beer, got to his feet, and bowed again to Eresh,
    guna and then to his sons. "I shall not wait a moment. It shall be as
    if Burrapi the Zuabi mercenary had never been. With the loot Burrapi
    the mercenary has won, someone who answers to a different name
    will take up lodging in the city of Gibil. In Gibil, a stranger will call
    on the house of Ereshguna. Perhaps, though, he will seem somehow
    familiar." He bowed once more, to all the men of the house of Er-
    eshguna together, and then went off whistling the tune the flute,
    player in the square in front of the temple of Engibil had played as
    an accompaniment to the dancing girl's lithe swaying.
     "That was indeed a good notion," Ereshguna said. Sharur beamed,
    pleased at the praise.
     How good a notion it was, Kimash showed within the hour.
    of the lugal's largest and burliest retainers appeared before the nt
    Sharur, Ereshguna, and Tupsharru shared. The bigger of the two
    growled, "Kimash the mighty lugal requires the immediate presence
    of the Zuabi mercenary named Burrapi. No excuse will be tolerated."
    To emphasize that, he set his right hand on the hilt of his sword.
    Ereshguna said, "I must offer an excuse nonetheless: he is not here.
    I have not seen him since the battle ended."      'A
     "He was seen in the battle," Kimash's guardian said. "He was seen
    after the battle, plundering the tents of the Imhursagut."
     "If he found enough booty to satisfy him, he is likely to be on the
    way to Zuabu by now," Sharur said. "He fought for gain, not for love
    of the city."                           I
     "Did he ever speak of a man named-?" The first guard turned

    




    A,
    
    134ETW42CM TbC RIV49RS
    
    311
    
    and whispered with the other, then nodded. "Named Habbazu, that
    was it."
     Solemnly, Sharur, Ereshguna, and Tupsharru shook their heads.
    The second guard spoke for the first time: "His silence proves noth-
    ing. The two Zuabut could have been plotting together, plotting for
    the benefit of Zuabu, plotting to harm Gibil and the interests of
    Gibil.11
     "I had not thought of that," Ereshguna said, solemn still. Kimash's
    conclusion was close to the mark, but not on it.
     "That is why Kimash the mighty lugal rules Gibil," the first guard
    said. "He is a man who thinks of everything."
     "No doubt you are right," Sharur said. Kimash's retainers spoke of
    him as if he were a god. Even Inadapa, steward to the lugal, spoke of
    him that way-and Inadapa was clever enough in his own right to
    understand perfectly well that Kimash was a man like himself. Most
    rulers in Kudurru either were gods themselves or were men through
    whom their city gods spoke. To rule in his own right, Kimash had to
    ape divinity.
     His guards, though, did not seem to think he was aping it. The
    first one said, "The mighty lugal will send pursuers on the Zuabi's
    trail * They will drag him down like the dog he is. The mighty lugal
    has said he desires the Zuabi brought before him, and so the Zuabi
       be brought before him." He might have been stating a law of
    
   "No doubt you are right," Sharur said again, in the tones of polite
    ement he'would have used had an Alashkurri wanax come out
    with some obvious absurdity that would not ruin a dicker.
     Kimash's retainers swaggered away. Ereshguna said, "Son, you were
    indeed wise to send Habbazu down to Gibil as quickly as you did."
     I thought Kimash would link Habbazu and Burrapi in his mind,"
    Sharur answered. "He did not link them in quite the right way, but
    with Habbazu in his hands he would soon correct his mistake."
     Tupsharru said, I wonder when Engibil will realize something out
    of the ordinary has happened." He went into no more detail than
     that; no telling if the god was listening.
      Perhaps Engibil did hear him, and went searching to discover what
     had happened that was out of the ordinary. Or perhaps the god,

    




    312
    
    OARRV TURTUEOovc-
    
    In
    
    having seen that Gibil's northern frontier no longer faced danger
    from Enimhursag and the Imhursagut, returned his chief attention to
    Gibil and, in Gibil, to the temple wherein he dwelt.
     His voice was a great deal more than twice the size of a man's. It
    might have been articulate thunder crying out: "I have been robbed!"
    
    Sharur wanted to run. Sharur wanted to hide. Running from Engibi
    was futile. Hiding from Engibil was useless. By their expressions, Er
    eshguna and Tupsharru felt exactly as he did.
     Since running from the god was futile, since hiding from the go
    was useless, all three of them stayed where they were. Through lit
    likely as numb with fear as Sharur's, Tupsharru whispered, "Engib
    has ways of squeezing the truth from a man even the torturers
    Kimash the lugal cannot match."
     "There is truth, and then again there is truth," Ereshguna a)
    swered, also in a whisper. "Remember it. Give as little as you ca
    We are in danger. We are not yet lost."
     Tupsharru and Sharur both nodded. Sharur's younger brotb
    knew little directly concerning the stolen Alashkurri cup, and cot,
    truthfully deny questions assuming such direct knowledge. Shai
    knew his own position was riskier. He knew too much, altogetl
    too much.
     And Engibil knew he and Ereshguna knew too much, altoged
    too much. Telling Kimash that Habbazu was in Gibil had beei
    mistake. The lugat, seeking to shore up his own shaky position, I
    warned the god. He had not said who had given him that news
    Engibil would already have descended in wrath upon the hous(
    Ereshguna. But, should Engibil enquire of Kimash, Sharur was,,
    the lugal would appease the god with him and his father and broi
    sooner than facing Engibil's anger himself.
     So it proved. The god of Gibil did not immediately visit the,
    wherein Sharur, Ereshguna, and Tupsharru rested, but neither di,
    long delay. He appeared without warning: one moment, he was
    where nearby; the next, air blown out by his arrival stirred Sha
    hair and whiskers. "Men of the house of Ereshguna!" he booj
    "Was it you who told Kimash of the coming to Gibil of a ce,

    




    _BCTWCCM TbC RIVERS
    
    313
    
    Zuabi thief? Answer with the truth." He pointed to Sharur, Eresh-
    guna, and Tupsharru in turn.
     Engibil was a drowsy god, but a god nonetheless. Sharur suddenly
    found himself incapable of lying: an awkward predicament for a mas-
    ter merchant's son. He answered with the truth: "Yes, we were the
    ones." He could have done nothing else.
     "How did you know this master thief when you saw him?" Engibil
    demanded.
     "He had tried to rob my caravan when it was passing through
    Zuabu," Sharur said. "He failed-my guards were alert-but I knew
    his face when I saw him again in Gibil."
     "My guards were not so alert," Engibil said petulantly. "Why did
    he want to steal whatever it was he wanted to steal?" Having denied
    that the Alashkurri cup was anything out of the ordinary, the god
    did not care to mention it now. Sharur noted how unspecific he was.
     He answered, "Great god, he wanted to steal it for Enzuabu." That
    was true. Habbazu had later changed his reasons, but Engibil had not
    asked about that.
     "Do you know where the thing that was stolen is now?" Engibil
    asked.
     "No," Sharur replied. As Ereshguna had remarked, there was truth,
    and then again there was truth. Only Ningal knew exactly where the
    cup lay. If Sharur interpreted Engibil's questions literally enough, he
    could evade most of the strictures the god had set on him.
     Engibil rounded on Ereshguna and Tupsharru. "Does either of you
    know where the thing that was stolen is now?"
     "No," Sharur's father said. Shatur's brother shook his head. They
    had both interpreted the question as Sharur had done.
     "You can not lie to me," Engibil said. "I know you can not lie to
    me, Even if you are less firmly in my grip than I might like, you can
    not lie to me."
     "That is so, great god," Sharur said-truthfully. His father and
    brother nodded. Like him, they had given Engibil the exact truth, or
    what they could construe as the exact truth.
      The god frowned. "This is not what I had been led to believe by
     others," he said. "I had thought you would know more than you do."
      "Perhaps, mighty god, it was those others who were mistaken,"

    




    314
    
    b.XRRY TURTLeOovc-
    
    Sharur said. The truth was that Engibil was indeed a lazy god. He
    asked only a handful of questions and then, when the men of the
    house of Ereshguna succeeded in evading them, decided not to bother
    asking any more. He could easily have found questions Sharur and
    Ereshguna and Tupsharru would have been unable to evade-or, for
    that matter, he could have torn answers from their minds by force.
     He did neither of those things. He said, "Perhaps they were. They
    also told the truth, or what they thought to be the truth. But a man
    may be honestly mistaken, as a god may be honestly mistaken." He
    tried again, in a way, asking Sharur, "Do you know where this Zuabi
    thief is now?"
     "No, great god, I do not," Sharur answered. Habbazu was surely
    somewhere between the encampment here and Gibil, but where?
    Had he stopped to rest? Was he buying beer in a village? Sharur had
    no way of knowing, not when the thief was out of his sight.
     Engibil asked the same question of Ereshguna and Tupsharru in J
    turn, and received the same reply. Then, as much to himself as
    the men of the house of Ereshguna, the god said, "I shall watch t
    western border. If the thief tries to take the thing that was stolen
    back to Zuabu, I shall learn of it. If he tries to take the thing that
    was stolen back to Enzuabu, I shall know."
     And then he was gone, as suddenly as he had appeared. Sharur,
    Ereshguna, and Tupsharru. looked at one another. As one, hey
                                            t'
    sighed. As one, they turned toward the pot of beer. Ereshguna hapi.
    pened to be standing closest to it. He dipped up cups for himself and
    his sons. As one, they drank.
     None of them said anything for some time. Engibil had gone
    they could not tell whether he had left behind some small part of his
    presence to listen to whatever they might say. Sharur quickly emptied
    his cup of beer, then filled it again.
     At last, Ereshguna broke the silence, saying, "I am glad the god
    has realized we know so little about this theft and about the thief,"
     "As am I," Sharur agreed, and Tupsharru nodded.
     Ereshguna went on, "I hope Engibil will have some sharp things
    to say to those who told him we knew more than we proved to know."
     "So may it be," Sharur and Tupsharru said together, speaking to

    




    736TWCEM TOE RLVERS
    
    315
    
    a listener who might or might not be there. Sharur added, "I hope
    the great god does keep a close watch on the western border, that he
    might capture and punish the thief if he tries to take the thing that
    was stolen back to Zuabu."
     He could lie once more-he felt that-but he spoke the truth
    there. If Habbazu stole the cup from the house of Dimgalabzu, Sharur
    would sooner have seen it in Engibil's hands than in Enzuabu's.
     Now Tupsharru and Ereshguna said, "So may it be." No matter
    how reliable Habbazu had shown himself to be, trusting a Zuabi came
    hard.
     Sharur said, "I hope Kimash the mighty lugal will soon permit us
    to return to Gibil. Now that we have forced Enimhursag to flee, now
    that we have plundered the Imhursaggi camp, we have no great rea-
    son to linger near the border with Imhursag. We who dwell in the
    city can return to our homes. We can return to our trades. The peas~
    ant levies who fought alongside us can return to their villages. They
    can return to their fields. We can be assured we shall have a good
    harvest, and food for all."
     "That would be good," Ereshguna agreed. "That would-"
    Before he could say anything more, Engibil reappeared. "You!" the
     said, and pointed straight at Sharur.
     "I serve you, great god." Sharur dropped to his knees and then to
    his belly, though he doubted whether the forms of respect would do
    him any good. Engibil had to have learned something to return to
    the encampment of the Gibli army. Sharur resolved to give the god
    as little as he could, knowing how little such resolve was liable to
    mean.
     Engibil said
    was stolen dis
         b it.,,
    at god, I had gone down into Gibil to put a prisoner into the
     Ushurikti the slave dealer," Sharur said. "Mighty god, while
     ere, put on an entertainment for the people left behind in
     the city, and especially for the priests who serve your house on earth."
     Unless Engibil forced it from him, he would not admit he knew ex-
     actly when the cup disappeared from the god's temple.
    
    , "You were outside my temple when the thing that
    appeared. You were outside my house when the thief

    




    316
    
    133,RRY TuRTLeOovc=
    
     "it -was (luting this entertainment that the thing that was sto
   ,Nas ta,,)eA awaj ~" En~:x)i)A saU. "Mvat Oo Nou Vnow of this? Tell
    the truth."
     Sharur had to obey. "Here is the truth that I know, great god,"
    said. "I know that, while the entertainment was under way, I nev
    once set foot inside your temple. I never entered your house on ea
    Your own priests, your own servants, saw me in the open space ou
    side your temple. They will say as much. I never saw any thief ent
    your temple. I never saw any thief leave your house on earth.
    I left the open space outside your temple, the entertainment was s
    going on."
     Every word of that was the truth. Every word was as misleading
    he could make it. Engibil frowned, again not receiving the ans
    he had expected or hoped for. "Do you wonder, son of Ereshguna,"
    said gruffly, "that I ask these questions of you when you had seen a Z
    abi thief and when you were close by my temple when the vile
    struck?"
     "You are a god," Sharur said. "How can a man wonder at anyth
    a god may choose to do?"
     "You can not," Engibil said. "You must not." And then he
    gone once more.
     I am glad you told the god the truth that you knew," Eres
    said. I am glad you were able to tell the truth with such ... pre
    Sion."
                                        M
     "So am 1, Father," Sharur replied, still shaking a lit "So a
    Has that beer pot yet gone dry?"
    
    Kimash the lugal made the Gibli army's return to the city of G
    into a triumphal procession. At every village along the road so
    from the Imhursaggi border, men dropped out to return to their u
    labor in the fields. At every village, Kimash made a speech prai
    the warriors, praising the people of Gibil as a whole, and prai
    himself
     At every crossroads along the road south from the Imhu
    der, men turned off to the right or left to go back to their vill
    At every crossroads, Kimash halted the whole army so he could n

    




    BeTwecm The RIVERS
    
    317
    
    another speech. Again, he extolled the warriors, the Giblut, and him-
    self
     The speeches were not quite identical, one to another, but they
    were similar. After a while, Sharur stopped paying close attention to
    them. I wonder if he can find anything new to say when we finally
    get to Gibil," he remarked as the army started moving after yet an-
    other halt.
     "More likely, he'll simply run all of these speeches together, for
    the men and women of Gibil will not have heard them," Tupsharru
    said.
     "And then, once he has done that, he will go into the south and
    make all these speeches yet again," Ereshguna said. "He is not a god
    like Enimhursag, to speak into the ears of all his people at once.
    Naturally, he wants all the folk of Gibil to know he has driven back
    the lmhursagut. If he wants them to know, he must tell them him-
    self."
     "And tell them, and tell them, and tell them, Sharur said with
    exaggerated weariness. Ereshguna tried to send a reproving look his
    way, but broke down and laughed before the expression was well
    formed.
     Although the lugal's endless bombastic oratory made the march
    down from the lmhursaggi border seem to take forever, the baked-
    brick walls of Gibil, and Engibil's temple and Kimash's palace tow-
    ering above them, at last came into sight. Kimash halted the army
    outside the north gate to the city and ordered the warriors who had
    armor to don it and those who had only weapons to carry them.
     "He does indeed wish to make the bravest show he can," Sharur
    said.
     "Only one sort of show is worse than no show at all," his father
    said, "and that is a poor show."
     Kimash left himself in no danger of making a poor show. As his
    fighting men entered Gibil through the north gate, a great-voiced
    Lrald cried, "Behold! Mighty Kimash returns in triumph, having
    made Enimhursag flee!" Riding in the chariot all adorned with gold,
    Kimash waved to the men and women lining the narrow, winding
     streets of the city.
      And the people cheered. Not all of them, no doubt, loved Kimash.

    




    318          bzRRy -ruwrLebove
    
    Some surely longed for the days when Engibil did much of their
    thinking for them. But no one in the city of Gibil could possibly h
    longed for Enimhursag to do much of their thinking for them. The
    rivalry between their city and that of the vanquished god was too
    deep and went back too far for any of them to have hoped he won.
    Beating Enimhursag was the best way Kimash could have chosen to
    make the Giblut think well of him.
     Into the market square marched the warr iors of Gibil. The
    and women who had not fought crowded in with and after them.
    Servants brought a platform from the lugal's palace. Kimash climbed
    up onto it and looked out over the crowd. He was wise in the way,
    of men, and proved wise enough not to do as Tupsharru had said he
    would. Instead of stringing together all his earlier speeches, he k
    things short and to the point: "Warriors of Gibil residing in the city,;~
    I release you to your families and friends for the praise you so richly
    deserve. Warriors of Gibil dwelling south of the city, I bid you stay
    this day before resuming your homeward journey. Let this day be a
    day of feasting, a day of drinking, a day of revelry, a day of celebration.
    1, Kimash, lugal of Gibil, have spoken. 1, Kimash, lugal of this city,
    have declared my will."
     Again, the people of Gibil were glad to follow where the lUgal I
    Those who had gone to fightand those who had stayed behind
    shouted and clapped their hands. Warriors embraced their fathers,
    their brothers, their wives, their mothers, their sisters, their children.
    Some headed for taverns. Some headed for brothels.
     Sharur headed for home, along with Ereshguna and Tupsha
    They had not gone far when they met Betsilim and Nanadirat. Sharur
    hugged his mother and younger sister. He looked around hopefully,
    to see if Ningal was somewhere ' nearby. On a day of revelry, a day of
    celebration, he might with propriety hug his intended, too. But, to
    his disappointment, he did not spy her.
     He also looked around for Habbazu. He did not see the Zuabi thief,
    either. He did not know what that meant, or whether he should
    worry. When Habbazu chose not to be seen, he was not seen. But he
    also might have fallen into the hands of Engibil, or those of Engibil's
    priests, or those of Kimash's servitors. He might even have
    to Zuabu in spite of Engibil's watching the border.

    




    UCTWEEM TI)C RtVeRS
    
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     Ereshguna and Tupsharru were also looking this way and that.
    Ereshguna smiled sheepishly when his eyes met Sharur's. He said, I
    suppose it does not matter," and Shatur had a very good notion of
    what it was.
     I suppose the same thing," Sharur answered. I truly hope it does
    not matter."
     "What are the two of you talking about?" Betsilim demanded.
     "Nothing very important," Sharur answered. He could not remem-
    ber the last time he had tied to his mother, but he tied now without
    hesitation. He did not think he had ever lied to his mother in his
    father's presence. Ereshguna heard him lie, and let it go without con-
    tradiction.
     While Betsilim and Nanadirat went out, the Imhursaggi slave
    woman had labored in the kitchen. The returning men of the house
    of Ereshguna sat down to a feast: roast mutton, roast duck, a salad of
    onions and lettuce and radishes, fresh-baked bread with honey for
    dipping, and wine and beer to wash everything down. Sharur ate till
    just this side of bursting.
     So did Tupsharru. Despite that, though, he eyed the slave woman
    in a marked manner. After a while, he and the slave disappeared.
    "He is intent on conquering Imhursag again," Ereshguna said dryly.
     Sharur laughed. Nanadirat giggled. Betsilim gave her husband a
    took that said she didn't think the joke was funny, or maybe just
    that he had better not try to reconquer Imhursag in that particular
    way.
     Presently, Nanadirat and Betsilim, both a little wobbly on their
    legs, went up to the roof to sleep. Tupsharru had not come back.
    He'd teased Sharur for taking the slave woman twice after coming
    home from his trading journey to the mountains of Alashkurru. Now,
    coming home from the war, Tupsharru seemed to be imitating his
    brother.
     When Sharur got to his feet to go upstairs, too, Ereshguna held up
    a hand. "Wait," he said. "The thing you left behind ... when do you
    plan to get it back from where you left it?"
     He picked his words with obvious-and necessary-care, not
    wishing to draw Engibil's attention to them in any way. Sharur an-
     ered with similar caution: "My father, I do not know. As I have
    
    IN

    




    320
    
    'b&RRY Tu-RTIcOove
    
    said, and said truly, I do not know just where that thing is now. I
    will have to go to the person to whom I entrusted it to get it back."
     1 understand," Ereshguna said. "That may not be so easy, not
    when others have returned to the house. But I hope you will do it as
    soon as you may. If we do not take it back into our hands, others
    may take it into theirs."
     "I shall attend to it," Sharur promised. He yawned. "But not to-
    nighC)
     "No, not tonight," Ereshguna agreed. He and Shatur both got to
    
    their feet and went up to the roof to sleep.

    




    11
    
    Sharur's dreams were strange. He realized that he had not known
    anything nearly so peculiar since the delirium through which he had
    drifted after the fever demon breathed its foul breath into his mouth.
    He wondered if he was delirious again. He did not think so, nor had
    he been so very drunk when he went up to the roof and lay down
    on his sleeping mat.
     Voices called to him from a vast distance, their words echoing and
    indistinct. Some were male, some female; some might have been
    either, or both at once ... or neither. He did not think they were
    speaking the language of Kudurru, but it was a language he under-
    stood, or should have understood. Maybe that was because he dreamt.
    Maybe ...
     He needed a while, but finally recognized the tongue that dinned
    inside his head: it was the speech of the Alashkurru Mountains. With
    that recognition, he heard the voices more distinctly, as if the men
    and women using that speech had suddenly come closer.
     Men and women? Not all the voices had fit into either category.
     p until he realized what language they were speaking, Sharur had
    seen only blurry flashes of light and color, like a distant landscape
    fitfully illuminated with lightning bolts.
     Now those flashes and colors came closer and closer, too. They
    and the voices surrounded Sharur, who seemed to be looking up from
    the bottom of a great bowl at shapes that slowly congealed into faces
    and bodies. The faces peered down at him as he peered up at them.
     "He knows us," one of them said: a woman-no, a goddess. As
    she spoke, her entire form became more plain to Sharur. She was
    nude, with enormously bulging breasts and, below them, an even
    more enormously bulging belly. Sharur did indeed know Fasillar; he
    
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    had had dealings with the Alashkurri goddess of birth in the town of
    Za1puwas. Now she went on, "He knows who we are."
     "You are the gods and goddesses of the Alashkurrut," Sharur said,
    or thought he said-in a dream, how could he be-sure?
     "We are the gods and goddesses of the Alashkurrut." The speaker
    this time had a man's voice, a deep man's voice. He wore coppeT
    armor and carried a bronze sword. Tarsiyas, the war god with whom
    Sharur had had dealings in the town of Tuwanas, spoke with touchy
    pride: "We are the great gods and goddesses of the Alashkurrut."
     Sharur bowed low to him and to Fasillar and to the other deities,
    whom he still perceived less clearly. "I greet you, great gods and
    goddesses of the Alashkurrut," he said; even in a dream, politeness
    to gods was a good idea. "What do you want with me?" Being in a
    dream, he could at least feign ignorance.
     "You have something of ours," Fasillar said.
     "You have something of ours," Tarsiyas agreed. "The thing of ours
    that you have, you have secreted away in a dreadful place."
     "In a dreadful place you have secreted away the thing of ours that
    you have," Fasillar echoed. "We tried to send a dream your way
    before. We could not send a dream your way before. We had not the
    power to send a dream your way before, not from out of that dreadful
    place. You were too far from us. Even now, when you are so close,
    we can barely send a dream your way."
     Tarsiyas nodded his fierce head. "You have met us face to face.
    Only because you have met us face to face can we send a dream your
    way at all. We have cried out to Engibil, but Engibil hears us not.
    He is a god. He sleeps not. He has no dreams in which to hear us.
     "He has not met us face to face, as you have, Fasillar said. "He is
    deaf to us. He hears us not."
     Hiding the Alashkurri cup in
    
                         the house of Dimgalabzu had t
    proved a good idea. The power of the gods was at a low ebb ail ng
    the Street of Smiths, and lowest in the smithies. Though he knew
    he was but dreaming, Sharur did not smile. Instead, he asked his own'
    question once more: "What do you want with me, great gods and
    goddesses of the Alashkurrut?"
     "Give back the thing of ours that you have." Fasillar and Tarsi'yas

    




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    spoke together, echoed by the rest of the great gods and goddesses of
    the Alashkurrut.
     "Give back the thing of ours that you have, and we shall reward
    you, " Fasillar said.
     "Fail to give back the thing of ours that you have, and we shall
    punish you," Tarsiyas added, his grim features growing grimmer.
     "What will you do to reward me?" Sharur asked. "What can you
    do to punish me? I am in Gibil. You are in the Alashkurru Moun-
    tains."
     "One day, you shall come again to the Alashkurru Mountains,"
    Fasillar answered. "Would you sooner be rewarded or punished when
    you do?"
     "I would sooner be rewarded, great goddess," Sharur answered. "I
    would sooner not be punished, mighty goddess."
     "There, you see?" Tarsiyas rumbled. "I knew this was a wise mortal.
    I knew this mortal would be able to tell where he would have bread
    and meat to eat, where he would have had only crumbs and bones."
     When last Sharur had seen and spoken with Tarsiyas, the Alash-
    kurri war god had not praised him. Tarsiyas had reviled him for seek-
    ing to seduce Huzziyas the wanax away from the path of obedience
    to the gods. Belligerence had fit Tarsiyas's nature. Conciliation did
    not. A conciliatory Tarsiyas put Sharur in mind of a lion sitting down
    to a meal of bread and lettuce and dates.
     Sharur realized he was thinking more clearly than he was used to
    doing in dreams. In his ordinary dreams, though, he did not talk with
    the great gods of the Alashkurrut. "Give back the thing of ours that
    you have," Fasillar repeated. "Give it back, and all the women you
    bed shall bear you many sons and shall come through the pangs of
    childbirth safe and unharmed."
     "Give back the thing of ours that you have," the rest of the Alash-
    kurri gods said in blurry chorus. "Give it back, and all. . . " The cho-
    rus broke down, presumably because each god or goddess was making
    a different promise, one set in a domain over which that deity held
    power.
     "What are your promises worth to me?" Sharur asked. "You are
    great gods. You are mighty gods. But you are the gods of the Alash-

    




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    kurrut. You are the gods of the Alashkurru Mountains. You are not
    the gods of the men who live between the rivers. You ~re not the
    gods of Kudurru. Your power rests in the mountains. You have no
    power here between the rivers."    I-
     Tarsiyas glared at him. Now the Alashkurri war god looked d
    sounded fierce once more. "You are a mortal. You are only a mort
    Soon you will be a whining, carping ghost. Soon you will be gone
    gone from this world, gone from memory in this world. Speak no
    words of who has power and who has not."
     "What you say is true, great god," Sharur answered politely. "What
    you say is the way of the world, mighty god." He had to keep on
    being polite. Any man who openly opposed a god was liable to come
    to grief. That too was the way of the world. But, though Sharur was
    only a mortal, where power lay here was not so obvious. He had the
    thing the great gods of the Alashkurrut wanted, and they were not
    the gods of this land. They would have to satisfy him before he even
    thought of satisfying them.
     Fasillar must have recognized that, for she said, "What other boons
    might we grant you, man of Kudurru? What other favors might we
    give you, man of Gibil?"
     Had Sharur chosen to ask the Alashkuff i gods to lift their ban
    against his city's merchants, he was sure they would have promised
    to do it. He wondered, though, whether he might not have at his
    disposal another way to lift the ban. All he said was, I do not
    know"-a merchant's canny answer.
     "Send the thing of ours that you have back to the Alashkurru
    Mountains, and we shall grant you all the good fortune lying in our
    power," Fasillar promised. "You shall be rich, you shall be beloved,
    you shall be healthy, your days in this world shall be long."
     "Keep the thing of ours that you have, send it not back to the
    Alashkurru Mountains, and we shall inflict on you all the ill fortune
                                            4
                                            10~rt(
    
    in our power," Tarsiyas vowed. "You shall be poor, you shall be de,
    spised, you shall be sickly and puling, your days in this world shall
    be short and filled with torment."
     Had Tarsiyas not threatened him, Sharur's dream-self would ha
    held its peace. As things were, though, he grew angry, as he would
    have grown angry while awake. He said, "Suppose, great gods of the

    




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    Alashkurrut, that I do not send the thing of yours that I have back
    to the Alashkurru Mountains. Suppose, mighty gods of the Alash-
    kurrut, that I do not keep the thing of yours that I have. Suppose,
    great gods, mighty gods, that I break the thing of yours that I have.
    What then?"
     Tarsiyas gasped. Fasillar gasped. In the background, all the great
    gods of the Alashkurrut gasped. All the mighty gods of the Alash-
    kurrut gasped.
     Sharur gasped-and found himself awake on the roof of the house
    of Ereshguna, staring up at the stars. Unlike his fever dreams, this
    dream he would not forget, not to his dying day.
    
    When morning came, Sharur intended to go straight to the house of
    Dimgatabzu to recover the cup he had left with Ningal. Before he
    finished his breakfast porridge of barley and salt fish, though, and
    before he finished the cup of beer he was drinking with it, Inadapa
    the steward of Kimash the lugal strode into the house of Ereshguna.
     1 greet you, steward to the mighty Kimash," Sharur said, rising
    from his stool to bow to Inadapa. "Will you eat porridge of barley
    and salt fish with me? Will you drink a cup of beer with me? While
    you eat, white you drink, will you tell me what brings you to the
    house of Ereshguna so early in the day?"
     "I greet you, Sharur son of Ereshguna," Inadapa said. "I have eaten,
    thank you. I breakfasted at first light of dawn, the better to serve the
    mighty Kimash through the whole of the day. But I will gladly drink
    a cup of beer with you, and I will tell you what brings me to the
    house of Ereshguna so early in the day, for it concerns you."
     Sharur dipped up a cup of beer with his own hands and gave it to
    Inadapa. "I listen, he said, and spooned up more porridge.
     Inadapa drank and nodded approval. "The house of Ereshguna
    brews good beer, as I have known for long and long. Kimash the
    mighty lugal has ordered me to bring you before him as soon as may
    be.)'
    
     "I obey the lugal. I obey the lugal's steward." Sharur ate one more
    mouthful of porridge, then rose from his stool again. "Let us go."
     "Kimash the mighty lugal will be glad for your obedience." Inadapa

    




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    hastily finished the beer Sharur had dipped up for him, sm~cked his
    lips, and echoed the younger merchant: "Aye, let us go."
     When they got to the lugal's palace, it was as it had been on so
    of Sharur's earlier visits: workmen swarmed everywhere, some w
    bricks, some with mortar, some building scaffolding of reeds to
    port brickwork already made or to support artisans running up e
    brickwork.
     "Kimash the mighty lugal no longer stints himself, I see," Sharur
    remarked. "It is good." He meant what he said; the time when Ki,
    mash had gone easy because Engibil was reasserting himself had been
    difficult and alarming for all those in Gibil who favored the new and
    flourished because of it.
     "Truly it is good." Inadapa's nod was emphatic. "The mighty lugal
    rejoices in his munificence and in his strength." What that meant
    was that Kimash rejoiced in Engibil's weakness and preoccupation,
    but his steward was far too canny to let himself say-probably far too
    canny even to let himself think-any such thing.
     "For what purpose has the mighty lugal summoned me to his pal.
    ace?" Sharur asked, as Inadapa led him through the maze of passages
    within the palace.
     "Whatever the purpose may be, the mighty lugal did not see fit to
    enlighten his lowly servant as to its nature," Inadapa answered.
    "Soon you shall come before him. Soon he shall tell you his purpose.
    Soon you shall hear it from his very lips."
     "Soon I shall hear it from his very lips," Sharur agreed. Perhaps
    Inadapa was merely doing as he usually did when bringing men before
    the lugal. Perhaps Kimash did not want Sharur to know ahead of
    time why he had been summoned, in the hope that he would not be
    able to prepare plausible answers for the questions the lugal intended
    to put to him.
     In the throneroom, Kimash sat on the raised seat covered in go
    leaf Sharur went down on his face in the dust before him. "I am he
    at the mighty lugal's command," he said, not raising his head. "I have
    come at the mighty lugal's order."
     "Rise," Kimash said. "You are as obedient as you should be. You
    are as obedient as every Gibli should be."
     "I am pleased to obey the commands of the mighty lugal," Sharur

    




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    said as he got to his feet. Better to obey your commands than those of
    the god, he thought. He would not let himself say that, but it was
    there, and Kimash no doubt knew it was there.
     Kimash clapped his hands. Inadapa hurried back into the throne-
    room. "Fetch us beer and roasted grasshoppers," the lugal said. Ina-
    dapa bowed and hurried away, returning shortly with the food and
    drink. After crunching his way through a skewer of locusts, Kimash
    asked, "Have you seen either Habbazu the Zuabi thief or Burrapi the
    Zuabi mercenary since your return to Gibil?"
     "Mighty lugal, I have not," Sharur answered truthfully.
     A thoughtful look on his face, the lugat started on a second skewer.
    Presently, he said, "You convinced Engibil that you know nothing
    of the theft from his temple."
     "He asked me questions," Sharur said. "Because of his power, I had
    to answer them with the truth."
     "There is truth, and then again there is truth," Kimash replied,
    sounding very much like Sharur's father. "And, gods being as they
    are, Engibil no doubt relied too much on his power and too little on
    the common sense that men, having no such power, must develop
    and cultivate. The 'truth' a god will accept does not always stand up
    under a man's inspection."
     "Here, though, all is well so long as the god accepts it," Sharur
    said.
     "Perhaps, and then again perhaps not." The lugal chose to use his
    previous phrasing once more. "Engibil is satisfied, aye, but I still won-
    der whether you and the other men of the house of Ereshguna and
    the two Zuabut, the thief and the mercenary, obeyed me as com-
    pletely as I have the right to expect." He stared down at Sharur from
    his high seat.
     Sharur felt like a mouse on whom a hawk's gaze falls from the sky.
    But he bore up under the lugal's inspection. Kimash was but a man.
    Enimhursag had searched for Sharur from on high. After that, facing
    Kimash's doubts, if not easy, was by no means impossible.
     "From what I have seen, thieves, generally speaking, obey only
     emselves," Sharur said. "And if Engibil is busy looking for a thief
  on the western border of Gibil's lands, he will not be busy within
      g
      j
    t e city of Gibil. He will not be busy trying to take the rule in Gibil

    




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    out of the hands of the mighty lugal and into his own hands once
    more.
     "This is so," Kimash said. "Aye, this is so." Sharur pulled a locust
    off a skewer and popped it into his mouth. While he was eating, his
    expression could not give him away. He could not deceive Kimash
    by feeding him truths that were useless or misleading, as he had done
    with Engibil. But he could distract the lugal and get him to think of
    other things than those perhaps dangerous to the house of Ereshguna.
     After eating another grasshopper and sipping at his beer, Sharur
    said, "The mighty lugal's refreshments are of the finest."
     "For those whom it pleases me to honor, nothing is too fine, no
    reward too great," Kimash said. "This brings me to another matter:
    indeed, to the other matter on account of which I had you summoned
    here. You will recall that, in exchange for your not pursuing the
    presence of the Alashkurri cup in the temple of Engibil, I promised
    you a marriage tie to any woman in the city of Gibil, this to include
    even my own daughters."
     "Yes, mighty lugal, I do recall that," Sharur said with a sinking
    feeling.
     I am glad you recall it," Kimash said. "The cup has stirred its own
    uproar, thanks to the Zuabi thief, but I do not think it is an uproar
    to threaten my position on the throne. And so, I am pleased to tell
    you that the promise of a marriage to any woman in the city of Gibil,
    this to include even my own daughters, still holds."
     "Ah," Sharur said, and then "Ah" again. He wondered how, or if,
    he was to get out of this one without offering the lugal deadly insult.
    After some thought, he decided the truth offered his best hope. "You
    will recall, mighty lugal, that my oath to Engibil prevented me from
    making final marriage arrangements for Ningal the daughter of Dim-
    alabzu the smith."
     4'Yes, of course," Kimash said. "That is why, out of the kindness
    and generosity of my heart, I offered you a marriage tie to any other
    woman in the city of Gibil, this to include even my own daughters."
    He bore down heavily on the last phrase; he plainly sought an alli,
    
    ance between his own house and the house of Eresbouna
    
     "The mighty lugal is kind." Sharur bowed. "The mighty lugal is
    generous." He bowed once more. The mighty lugal is conveniently for,

    




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    9441, he thought. Part of the reason for Kimash's offer, as the lugal
    had himself admitted, was to bribe Sharur out of pursuing his own
    course of action and into pursuing that which Kimash desired.
     "Take advantage of my kindness, then," the lugal urged. "Take
    advantage of my generosity."
     Sharur sighed. He could not deflect the moment any longer. With
    yet another bow, he said, "Mighty lugal, were matters otherwise, oth-
    erwise even in the slightest degree, nothing would delight my heart
    more than doing exactly as you say. But with-"
     "Wait." On the instant, Kimash went from affable to thunderous.
    
    "Do you mean you refuse my offer? Do you mean you spurn my offer?"
     "Mighty lugal, I mean nothing of the sort," Sharur replied, though
    that was indeed what he meant. "As I told you before, the god pre,
    vented me from making final marriage arrangements for Ningal the
    daughter of Dimgalabzu the smith."
     "Even so," Kimash said. "Those arrangements being prevented,
    what could possibly keep you from accepting the offer I made to you?"
     "Were those arrangements still prevented, nothing could keep me
    &oM accepting the offer you made to me," Sharur replied, feeling
    sweat break out on his forehead. "But mighty Engibil, in his own
    generosity, returned to me from his hands and from his heart the
    oath I had made in his name, and will suffer me to pay bride-price
    for Ningal to Dimgalabzu from the store of wealth of the house of
    Ereshguna, not from the profit I unfortunately failed to make on my
    last trading journey to the Alashkurru Mountains."
     Kimash's eyes went wide and round and staring. "The god.
    turned to you from his hands and from his heart the oath you had
    made in his name?" He sounded astonished, as Enimhursag had be-
    fore him on hearing the same news. "I can hardly believe it."
     "Believe or do not believe as best suits you, mighty lugal," Sharur
    said. "But, whether you believe or do not believe, I speak the truth.
    Because I speak the truth, I cannot take advantage of your kindness.
    I cannot take advantage of your generosity."
     "Engibil returned your oath." Kimash shook his head. He had the
    aspect of a man who had just come through an earthquake: shaken
    but doing his best to preserve his equilibrium, no matter what might
    &ha~n next. "You realize I can enquire of the god whether you fie."

    




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     "Of course, mighty lugal," Sharur said. "Enquire all you like. En,
    gibil will tell you I speak the truth."
     "Engibil returned your oath from his hands?" Kimash still did not
    sound as if he believed it. Perhaps he thought that repeating it over
    and over would help persuade him it was true. "Engibil returned your
    oath from his heart? Engibil,keeps oaths. He holds oaths. He returns
    them not."
     "This time, mighty lugal, he did return my oath." Sharur knew
    why the god had returned his oath, too, or thought he did. Just as
    Kimash had done, so Engibil had sought to distract him from pursuing
    the matter of the Alashkurri cup in his temple storeroom. As far as
    he was concerned, Ningal made for a far more attractive distraction
    than any Kimash had set before him. In terms carefully oblique, he
    said as much: "As I have long desired to wed Ningal the daughter of
    Dimgalabzu, I shall do so now that the great god, the mighty god,
    has in his generosity given me leave to pay her the bride-price as
    circumstances have compelled me to pay it."
     "A match with the house of Dimgalabzu wil
    tageous to the house of Ereshguna," the lugal said. "But will it prove
    as advantageous as a match with the house of Kimash?"
     A match with the lugal's daughter would swiftly raise the house of
    Ereshguna high among the nobles of Gibil. But Sharur was sure it
    would not put the treasures of Gibil into his hands or those of his
    father. And what rose swiftly could fall swiftly, too. Sharur knew that
    only too well.
     Bowing to Kimash, he once more picked his words with great care:
    "Mighty lugal, having long desired this match, as I said before, and
    having obtained for it the blessings of my father, of the father of my
    intended, and of Engibil himself, I very much hope to go forward
    with it."
     Kimash sighed. "You are a stubborn man. You are hard to turn
    aside. If you prove as stubborn in matters of the heart, if you prove
    as hard to turn aside in matters of your affections, the woman you
    wed will have little to complain of you. Before you settle once and
    for all time who that woman shall be, though, would it not please
    you to make the acquaintance of the dauRhters of the house of Ki,
    
    I surely prove advan~

    




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     Sharur bowed again, very low this time. Kimash was offering him
    an extraordinary concession, and he knew how extraordinary it was.
    "You are kind beyond my deserts, mighty lugal," he murmured. "But
    I must tell you that, since Dimgalabzu and my father, since Gulat and
    my mother, have completed all arrangements for the wedding save
    only the nuptial feast, I do not see what point there might be to my
    meeting your no doubt lovely daughters. I think the meeting would
    be likelier to cause distress on all sides than to cause joy."
     "It could be so, son of Ereshguna; it could be so," Kimash said with
    another sigh. "If that is the way you look on it, likely it will be SO.
    Forcing a man to do what he truly does not wish to do is the surest
    way I know to make him into an enemy. Do as you wish, then, and
    may it be well for you, and for me, and for Gibil."
     "I thank the mighty lugal for his forbearance," Sharur said. Only
    after the words had left his mouth did he realize that Kimash worried
    about making him an enemy. That the lugal should worry about him
    in any way was one more amazement out of many.
     Instead of directly answering him, the lugal clapped his hands to-
    gether. Inadapa appeared in the throneroom in a way Habbazu might
    have envied: one moment he was not there, the next he was, or so
    it appeared to Sharur. Kimash said, "The two of us have finished our
    discussion. Escort Sharur back to the house of Ereshguna."
     Inadapa bowed. "Mighty lugal, as you say, so shall it be." He turned
    to Sharur. "Come. I shall escort you back to the house of Ereshguna."
     1 thank you, steward to the mighty lugal." Sharur bowed to Ina-
    dapa, and then again to Kimash. "And, once more, I thank the
    mighty tugal."
     Inadapa led him out through the corridors of the palace and out
    past the guards at the entranceway, who respectfully dipped their
    heads to the steward and to Sharur. Just outside the palace, Sharur
    and Inadapa had to wait while another gang of laborers and artisans
    went past. Only when the two men were walking up the Street of
    Smiths toward the house of Ereshguna did Inadapa say, "Do I un-
    derstand correctly, then, that you shall not unite your house with the
    house of Kimash?"
     "Steward to the lugal, you do," Sharur replied. "Having made all
    affangements to wed the daughter of Dimga1abzu the smith, I did not

    




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    bARRY TURTLcOove
    
    see how I could in good conscience break them." Nor did I want to
    break them, though that is not your affair.
     "And the mighty lugal permitted this?" Inadapa asked. He had
    been hanging around the throneroom; he must have heard almost
    all, if not all, of what had passed between Sharur and Kimash. Yet
    now he sought confirmation, as if unable to believe what his ears had
    told him.
     "The mighty lugal permitted this," Sharur agreed. "In his forbear-
    ance, in his generosity, in his kindness, he permitted it."
     "I heard it," the steward said. "I understood it. Having heard it,
    having understood it, I still have trouble believing it. For the mighty
    lugal to turn aside from a course on which he had settled is as un,
    toward as for Engibil to give back an oath-which, from what you
    say, also came to pass. Truly, son of Ereshguna, your affairs of late
    have been extraordinary."
     "There, steward to the mighty lugal, I can only say that you speak
    the truth," Sharur replied. If anything, the steward understated the
    truth: fortunately, he did not know all of it.
     "Here we are, at the doorway to the house of Ereshguna." Inadapa
    bowed to Sharur. "I now return to serve Kimash the mighty lugal
    once more, though I do not expect to be so amazed in his service
    again any time soon." He set both hands on his ample belly, shook
    his head, and went back down the Street of Smiths toward the palace.
     Sharur walked through the doorway. As soon as he was inside the
    house of Ereshguna, he was very glad Inadapa had not accompanied
    him on those last few steps, for there, talking animatedly with his
    father, stood Habbazu the thief
    
     greet you, master merchant's son," Habbazu said with a bow.
     "I greet you, master thief " Sharur politely returned the bow.
     "Your father has told me you have not yet recovered the cup we c
    gave to your intended to hold for us in the house of Dimgalabzu,
    unless you chanced to do so while returning from the alace of KI-Rai,
    mash," Habbazu said.
     "My father speaks the truth, as he usually speaks the truth," Sharur'
    answered. "Nor did I recover the cup while returning from the palace j

    




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    of the mighty lugal." He opened his hands to show they were empty.
    "I might have tried to recover the cup, but Inadapa, Kimash's stew-
    ard, accompanied me from the palace, and so I had no chance to go
    alone to the house of Dimgalabzu."
     "Yes, I can see how having the steward along would make regain-
    ing the cup more difficult." Habbazu's voice was dry.
     "A bit, yes," Sharur said, and the master thief smiled to hear his
    own tone so neatly matched.
     Ereshguna said, "Before you came back from the palace, son, I had
    just asked whether Habbazu had recovered the cup you gave to your
    beloved to hold for you in the house of Dimgalabzu."
     "And I had just said no," Habbazu added. "I did not feel so brief
    an introduction to your intended would have persuaded her to give
    me the cup in your absence, and I would have had a difficult time
    explaining my presence to Dimgalabzu her father."
     "Yes, I can see how that might be so, even if you have made his
    acquaintance as Burrapi the mercenary," Ereshguna said. "Is that the
    same name you used when you met Ningal?"
     "It is," Sharur and Habbazu said together.
     "Well, that is good, at any rate." Ereshguna nodded approval.
     To Ha azu, S arur sai , "Consi ering e tr e you practice, you
    might have recovered the cup without meeting either Ningal my
    intended or Dimgalabzu her father."
     "I am, as you say, a master thief." Habbazu bowed to Sharur. "I
    am a master thief who has the aid of Enzuabu, the master of thieves.
    But I would hesitate to steal from a smith's house in Zuabu. Still more
    would I hesitate to steal from a smith's house here in Gibil. Some of
    the protections I have from the god work less well around smithies
    than almost anywhere else."
     "Working in metal as they do, smiths deal with raw power of their
    own, Ereshguna said. "Perhaps this power will become a divine
    power, but perhaps it will not. Because the powers of the gods are
    weaker around smiths and scribes-whose power over words is like-
    wise not divine, or not yet divine-they were among the men whom
    Kimash set in the first ranks against Enimhursag, as you saw."
     "Yes, I did see that," Habbazu said, nodding. "The weakening of
    the gods' powers worked to their advantage then. It would work to
    
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    my disadvantage, did I try to, ah, visit the house of Dimgalabzu by
    stealth."
     That Habbazu might hesitate before trying to rob a smith's house
    did not mean he would not try, not after he had robbed a god's
    temple. Sharur found another question to ask him: "When you lay
    down to sleep last night, did you have strange dreams?"
     The master thief had been on the point of saying something else.
    He stopped with his mouth open, looking extremely foolish for a
    moment. Then, gathering himself, he replied, "Since you ask it, I
    shall answer with the truth, and the truth is that, yes, I did have
    strange dreams when I lay down to sleep last night."
     "As did I," Sharur said, nodding. "Tell me something more, then:
    were these dreams you had when you lay down to sleep ... crowded
    dreams?"
    ' "Crowded dreams indeed," Habbazu said. "The very word I should
    have used. As best I can recall, I have never had such crowded dreams
    in all my days."
     "And in these dreams," Sharur persisted, "did those who crowded
    them insist that you restore to them something they said was theirs?"
     "So they did," Habbazu. said. "Aye, master merchant's son, so they
    did. They grew quite insistent, as a matter of fact. They also promised
    great rewards if I restored to them,something they said was theirs.
    And then"-he frowned-"it was very strange."
     "How so?" Sharur asked. Here, for the first time, the words of the
    master thief took him by surprise.
     Habbazu's frown deepened and grew quizzical. "It was very
    strange," he repeated. "In my dream, I was in converse with this
    crowd, as I say. At times, they threatened me; at times, they sought
    to cajole me. And then-all at once, it was as if the lot of them let
    out a great gasp of fright and fled. I do not know what might have
    frightened them. Certainly, I did not frighten them. I did not know
    any way to frighten them. But frightened they were. And frightened
    
    I was, too. I also let out a great gasp of fright. When I opened MY
    
    eyes, found myself alone on my sleeping mat."
                                      L   11  1
    
    "Ah." Now Sharur smiled. "I think we must have een ream
    
    our crowded dreams at the same time, master thief.

    




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     "Why do you say this, master merchant's son?" Habbazu asked.
    "Did the crowds in your dream also take fright?"
     "They did-and I made them take fright," Sharur answered. "We
    were speaking of my possibly restoring something they said was theirs,
    and we were speaking of my possibly keeping something they said
    was theirs. Then, in my dream, I asked what would happen if I broke
    something they said was theirs. They took fright. When I opened my
    eyes) 1, like you, found myself alone on my sleeping mat."
     "If you ... broke something they said was theirs." Habbazu spoke
    the words slowly, as if he had trouble bringing them out. His face
    bore an uneasy mixture of admiration and dread. "Son of Ereshguna,
    this I will tell you, and tell you truly: only a Gibli could think of such
    a thing."
     Ereshguna, who had been some time silent, spoke up: "Only a Gibli
    of my son's generation could think of such a thing. My heart stumbled
    within me when I first heard this notion, too."
     "And, you having heard it more than once, what does your heart
    do now?" Habbazu asked.
     "It still quivers," Ereshguna replied, "but it no longer stumbles.
    We of Gibil have a way of growing used to new notions."
     "That I have seen." By Habbazu's tone, he did not intend the words
    as a compliment.
     Ereshguna studied him. "Do you know, master thief, that you have
    shown yourself capable of growing used to new notions as quickly as
    most Giblut?"
     "Have I indeed?" Habbazu considered that. "Well, perhaps I have.
    What of it?" He looked a challenge at Sharur and Ereshguna.
     Sharur took it up. "What of it? you ask. Let me ask you a question
    in return: suppose that, after all this business is done-however it
    may finally end-you return to Zuabu. Will you feel easy, living once
    more under the rule of Enzuabu? Will you feel comfortable, living
    once more under the strong hand of your city god?"
     "Enzuabu is not Enimhursag," Habbazu said. "He is the lord of
    Zuabu. He is the ruler of Zuabu. He is not the toymaker of Zuabu,
    compelling men to move here and there as if they were tiny clay
    figures."

    




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     "I never claimed he was," Sharur replied. "I do not claim he is.
    What I asked was, Enzuabu being as he is, will you feel easy, living
    under his rule? When he orders you to rob this one or to leave that
    one alone, will you be glad to obey him as you have always obeyed
    him?"
     "He is my god," Habbazu said. "Of course I shall obey him.,'
    he realized that was not quite what Sharur had asked. "Of course I
    shall be glad to-" he began, and then stopped. He gave Sharur a
    sour look. Sharur saw the pans on either side of the scales in his mind
    swinging up and down, up and down, and finally reach a balance he
    had not expected. Habbazu's expression grew more sour still. "I have
    associated too long with Giblut. I have had too much to do with the
    ways of Giblut. Giblut and the ways of Giblut have corrupted me."
     Ereshguna and Sharur both smiled. "You have associated too long
    with free men, Ereshguna said. "You have had too much to do with
    the ways of free men. Without quite knowing it, you have become a
    free man yourself."
     "If that is what you call it, perhaps I have," Habbazu said. "I would
    not presume to argue with my host."
     "Well, then," Sharur said, "in that case, does your heart still stum,
    ble within you at the notion of breaking something those in your
    dream said was theirs?"
     "Of course it does," Habbazu answered at once. "If you were not
    a mad Gibli, your heart would stumble within you, too. To be free,
    or largely free, of your city god is one thing. To strike a blow against
    those in my dream"-he would not say, and Sharur could not blame
    him for not saying, to stri~ a blow against the gods-"is something else
    again. No wonder, then, that my heart stumbles within me."
     "No wonder," Ereshguna agreed. "Let me, then, ask a different
    question: regardless of whether your heart stumbles within you, do
    you think we should go ahead and break something those in your
    dream said was theirs?"
     "Truly, that is a different question." Habbazu plucked at his beard
    as he thought. At last, he said, "Perhaps it might not be so bad, if
    we could be sure of escaping the wrath of those closer to us."
     "We cannot be sure of that," Sharur said. "We cannot be sure
    any such thing. We can only hope-and act."

    




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     "If we do break something those in my dream said was theirs, I
    can never go back to Zuabu," Habbazu said. "I can never go back to
    Enzuabu. How can I tell the god of my city I have disobeyed him?
    How can I tell him I have chosen my own will, my own path, rather
    than his?"
     "You were the one who said Enzuabu was not Enimhursag," Sharur
    replied. "I believed your words. I accepted that you spoke rightly. Do
    you tell me now that you were mistaken?"
     Habbazu shook his head. "Enzuabu is not Enimhursag, to rule every
    tiny thing in the city. But neither is Enzuabu Engibil, to do as near
    nothing in the city as he can. When he lays down a command, he
    expects obedience."
     "Well, so does Engibil," Sharur said. "The difference between
    them is, Engibil lays down a command but seldom."
     "And besides," Ereshguna said, "have you not obeyed the com-
    mand your god laid down, master thief? Have you not stolen from
    the temple of Engibil something those in your dream said was theirs?"
     "I did steal it from the temple of Engibil, yes," Habbazu said, "but
    I did not bring it to Enzuabu. He will fault me for failing to fulfill the
    greater part of the promise; he will not shower me with praises for
    fulfilling the lesser part. I shall live out my days in exile from my
    city."
     "You shall live out your days a free man, or a man as free as he
    can hope to become in a world wherein gods hold the upper hand
    whenever they care enough to use it," Ereshguna said.
     "In other words, Sharur said, "You shall live out your days as a
    Gibli."
     Habbazu's eyes twinkled. "Master merchant's son, I hope you will
    forgive me, but I prefer your father's way of putting it."
     "Go ahead-mock this city after you have fought for it in war,"
    Sharur said, laughing. He quickly grew more serious. "If, now, we
    break something those in your dream said was theirs, we also help to
    make into free men those who live a long way away from the land
    between the rivers."
     "If they live a long way away, why should I care about them?"
    Habbazu asked. "I did not care much about you Giblut until Enzuabu
    sent me to this city to rob the temple of the god."

    




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     "And now, though you did not care much about us Giblut, you
    are practically a Gibli yourself," Ereshguna said. "Did this not teach
    you that you should not neglect folk for no better reason than that
    they live a long way away?"
     "It did not," Habbazu admitted. "Perhaps it should have."
     "Shall we go, then?" Sharur asked. "Shall we recover from the
    house of Dimgalabzu something those in your dream said was theirs?"
     That was the question Habbazu could neither evade nor avoid. He
    sighed. "Aye. Let us recover this thing." He sighed again. "And, once
    it be recovered, I shall, as you say, begin to become a Gibli." He
    sighed once more after that. "Well, no help for it, I suppose."
    
    Dimgalabzu bowed to Ereshguna. He bowed to Sharur. In some sur.
    prise, he bowed to Habbazu. After the men had exchanged polite
    greetings, the smith said, "I did not look to see you here in Gibil,
    Burrapi."
     Habbazu gave an airy wave of his hand. "A man who is always
    where you look to see him is a boring sort of man. Would you not
    agree, master smith?"
     "I had not thought of it so." Dimgalabzu's expression was bemused.
    "Perhaps you speak the truth, or some of the truth. Still, I did not
    look to see you here, not with. . ." His voice trailed away.
     Sharur had no trouble completing the sentence Dimgalabzu was
    too polite to finish. Not with Kimash's men looking for you, was one
    likely way it might end. Another, as likely, was, Not with the god of
    Gibil pursuing you.
     "Father of my intended, the man from Zuabu is with us for good
    reason," Sharur said. "He has good cause to be here."
     Dimgalabzu folded thick arms across his wide chest, which
    shiny with sweat. "I would hear of the good reason the man o
    Zuabu has to be with you," he said. "I would learn of the good cause
    he has to be here." Behind his thick beard, his features revealed
    nothing.
     "He came with me after our first fight with the Imhursagut, helping
    me to guard an Imhursaggi prisoner I was taking to Ushurikti the

    




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    slave dealer," Sharur said. "While we were in the city, he and 1, we
    left something here in your house for safekeeping. Now we have come
    to get it back."
    
     The smith's bushy eyebrows rose. "You left ... something ... here
    ... in my house for safekeeping?" he tumbled. "What was this thing,
    and why did you presume to leave it here in my house?"
     Neither of those was a question Sharur much cared to answer. Of
    the two) he preferred the second. "Father of my intended," he said,
    ('we presumed to leave it here in your house not least because your
    house is the house of a smith."
     He watched Dimgalabzu bite down on that until he had chewed
    it up and extracted all the nourishment from it. The house of a smith,
    by its very nature, was a house into which a god had trouble seeing.
    Dimgalabzu did not need long to figure out why Sharur and Habbazu
     i ht have chosen such a house for that which they wanted to leave
    in safekeeping. His eyes widened. "This thing you left here in my
    house for safekeeping," he began, "is it ... ?"
     Ereshguna held up a hand before Dimgalabzu could finish the ques-
    tion or Shatur could reply to it. "Some things are better left unasked,
    Ereshguna said, "even in the house of a smith. Some things, too, are
    
    IL
    
    better left unanswered, even in such a house."
     The words, taken alone, were remarkably uninformative. Yet Dim-
    galabzu had no trouble drawing meaning from them. The smith was
    not a young man, but he was a man of the new. He did not rush out
    into the Street of Smiths shouting that the thing stolen from the
    temple of Engibil now lay hidden in his house. In a quiet, thoughtful
    voice, he asked, "Why had I not heard you left something here in
    my house? Why did Gulal my wife not tell me? Why did Ningal my
    daughter not tell me? Why did my slaves not tell me?"
     "Gulat your wife did not tell you because she did not know, or so
    I believe," Sharur said. "Your slaves did not tell you because they did
    not know. Ningal your daughter did not tell you because I asked her
    to tell no one."
     Dimgalabzu's eyebrows rose again. He plucked at his elaborately
    curled beard. "Ningal my daughter obeyed.you very well," he said.
    -"Ningal my daughter obeyed you better than she is in the habit of

    




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    obeying me." His chuckle was a rumble deep down in his chest.
    "Ningal my daughter obeyed you better than she is likely to be in
    the habit of obeying you when she becomes Ningal your wife."
     Ereshguna chuckled at hearing that, too. So did Habbazu. Sharur
    ignored them. He ignored them so ostentatiously, they laughed out
    loud. He also ignored that, saying to Dimgalabzu, "Father of my in-
    tended, you asked why you did not know I had left something at your
    house. I have told you."
     "So you have," the smith said. "So you have." He plucked once
    more at his beard. Sharur waited to see what he would do next.
    Ereshguna and Habbazu also stood quiet, waiting. Dimgalabzu asked,
    "When you get this thing back, what will you do with it?"
     The question made Ereshguna flinch, ever so slightly. It made Hab,
    bazu look away from both Dimgalabzu and Sharur. Sharur answered,
    "I do not yet know. We shall have to see what looks most advanta-
    geous."
     Dimgalabzu grunted. "Since I do not even know what sort of thing
    this is, how can I judge whether your answer is good or bad?" He
    sighed. "Only one way to find out, I suppose. N ingal! " As Sharur had
    found on the battlefield, the smith could raise his voice to a formi-
    dable roar when he so desired.
     "What is it, Father?" Ningal's voice came from above. A moment
    later, she hurried down the stairs, a spindle still in her hand. When
    she saw Sharur and Ereshguna and Habbazu, she nodded to herself.
    After sending a quick smile toward Sharur, she said, "Ah. I thi& I
    know what it is."
     "Do you, my daughter?" Dimgalabzu said. "Do you indeed?"
     "I think I do, yes," Ningal said brightly, pretending not to notice
    her father's tone. She turned to Sharur and went on, "The servants
    of Kimash did come to this house while you were fighting the Im-
    hursagut. I told them I knew nothing. The priests from the temple
    of Engibil also came to this house while you were fighting the Im,
    hursagut. I likewise told them I knew nothing."
     "It is good." Sharur bowed to her. "I am in your debt."
     Habbazu bowed to Ningal. "We are all in your debt."
     "I do not yet know whether this is so," Dimgalabzu said. He

    




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    rounded on Ningal. "My daughter, why did you agree to hide this
    thing, whatever it may be, in our house? Why did you agree to tell
    no one of it?"
     I could not ask you what to do, Father, for you were in the field
    against the Imhursagut." Ningal looked and sounded the picture of
    innocence and obedience-unless one noticed, as Sharur did, the
    sparkle in her eyes. "After a woman leaves her father's home, she
    owes obedience to her husband. Being my intended, Sharur is almost
    my husband, and so I obeyed him in your absence-all the more so
    because he asked nothing dishonorable of me."
     "Why did you not ask your mother?" the smith demanded.
     "How could 1, Father, when Sharur asked me to speak to no one?"
    Ningal said in tones of sweet reason. I would not have been obeying
    him had I done so."
     "You are not yet Sharur's wife," Dimgalabzu said. "You have not
    yet gone to live in the house of Ereshguna." He muttered something
    his mustache muffled, then shook his head like a man bedeviled by
    gnats. "Let it go, let it go. We could argue for long and long, you and
    1, and we would end up where we began." Glancing over to Sharur,
    he asked, "Do you see how this goes, intended of my daughter?"
     "Yes, I see," Sharur answered. "Once we are wed, though, every-
    thing will be smooth as fine clay, smooth as rock oil between the
    fingers."
     Dimgalabzu, Ereshguna, and Habbazu laughed uproariously. Sharur
    and Ningal looked miffed. "Let it go," Dimgalabzu said again, still
    laughing. He turned to his daughter. "Very well, you obeyed this
    fellow, with his words smooth as fine clay, his words smooth as rock
    oil between the fingers."
     "Do not mock him, Father!" Ningal said. "Do not mock his
    words!
     "What is a young man for, if not to be mocked?" Dimgalabzu held
    up a hand before Ningal could say anything. "Never mind, never
    mind, Since you obeyed him, since you secreted away this ... thing,
    whatever it may be, find it now and give it back to him, that he may
    take it away from here, that we may do our best to pretend it never
    was here."

    




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     I shall obey you, my father," Ningal said. Her tone of voice re-
    mained in perfect accord with her words, but her expression warned
    that she was less serious than she sounded.
     She picked up a stool and carried it over to the wall, into whose
    clay several shelves had been set. The highest of those, well above
    the height of a man, was too tall to be convenient, not least because
    one had to stand on a stool to see what was at the back of the shelf.
    One of the things at the back of the shelf proved to be the Alashkurri
    cup, which Ningal now brought down.
     "Let me see this thing," Dimgalabzu said. Ningal's eyes swung to
    Sharur to make sure it was all right before she handed the cup to her
    father. The smith examined it, then gave it back to her. I had ex-
    pected something all of gold and silver, encrusted with precious
    stones. Why so much fuss, why so much mystery, over a foreign cup
    of cheap clay?"
     I will answer if you insist," Sharur said, "but I hope you do not
    insist, for naming certain things draws notice to them."
     Dimgalabzu grunted. Sharur's answer was not an answer, and yet,
    in a way, it was. The smith thought for a while before finally saying,
    "Very well, then. What you tell me does not surprise me, not con-
    sidering what I saw and heard at the encampment close by the border
    with Imhursag. You shall tell me in full one day, but not today."
     "I thank you, father of my intended, Sharur said, bowing.
     "Father, what did you see and hear at the encampment close by
    the border with Imhursag?" Ningal asked. "You have said nothing of
    this."
     "Nor shall I say anything of this, not now," Dimgalabzu answered.
    I shall tell you in full one day, but not today." He turned to Sharur.
    "Were you wise, son of Ereshguna, to embroil my family in this
                                           s w~i
                                             ith,
    out my leave?" He had made his own guesses about the cup and its
    provenance, guesses liable to be good.
     Sharur bowed again, apologetically. "Perhaps I was not wise, father
    of my intended, but I could not have embroiled your family with your
    leave, for, as Ningal your daughter has said, you were at the en-
    campment close by the border with Imhursag. No harm has come of
    it, for which I am very glad." He spoke nothing but the truth there.
     Dimgalabzu let out another grunt. Sharur's words were not ite

    




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    an apology, but were soft enough to make it hard for the smith to
    take offense. "Let it go," Dimgalabzu said yet again. "Take that cup
    out of here, and let it be as if that cup had never been here."
     "So may it be," Sharur said.
     "So may it be," Ereshguna echoed.
     "So may it be," Habbazu said, adding, "May the god of Gibil always
    reckon this cup has never been here. May the god of Gibil never
    learn where this cup has been." That prayer brought a fresh chorus
    of "So may it be!" from everyone else in the room.
     Sharur, Ereshguna, and Habbazu bowed first to Dimgalabzu and
    then to Ningal. They left the house of Dimgalabzu. Sharur wanted
    to run back to the house of Ereshguna, to minimize the time during
    which the Alashkurri cup was out on the Street of Smiths. But run,
    ning might have drawn the notice of other men on the Street of
    Smiths, and might also have drawn the notice of Engibil. Sharur
    walked, and walked sedately, keeping up a front no less than he did
    in a dicker.
     When he and his father and the master thief reached the house of
    Ereshguna, though, he did sigh once, loud and long, with relief. So
    did Ereshguna. So did Habbazu. Ereshguna asked, "Where will you
    now put this cup, son? What place have we that can match the house
    of a smith for holding such things safe?"
     "We still have a pot or two of Laravanglali tin, have we not?"
    Sharur asked. He did not wait for his father to reply; he knew where
    the metal was stored. He carried the cup over to one of the big clay
    pots, opened it, set the cup inside on the dark gray nodules of tin,
    and replaced the lid.
     "It is good." Ereshguna nodded. "It is very good. The presence of
    metal makes a god as shortsighted as a mortal man. Tin is especially
    good since it has such power of its own, the power to strengthen
    copper into strong, hard bronze even though tin is neither strong nor
    hard itself "
     Habbazu also nodded approval. "This hiding place will indeed con-
    ceal the cup from a searching god," he said. "The question of what
    to do with the cup now that it is back in our hands still remains."
     Another question that still remained, as far as Sharur was con-
    cemed, was how to make sure the cup did not come into Habbazu's

    




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    ba.RRy TuRTILebovcs
    
    hands alone. The master thief might yet repair his position with
    Enzuabu if he brought the cup to his own city god-and if he could
    sneak it past Engibil, assuming Engibil was still watching the western
    border of Gibli territory and had not lazily gone back to fornicating
    with courtesans in his house on earth.
     Ereshguna said, "If we break the cup, it stays forever broken. We
    must think hard before undertaking a step that may not be revoked."
     "This is so," Habbazu said. "The very idea of breaking the cup,
    the very idea of choosing my will over the will of the gods, turns my
    liver green with fear."
     "You would break something that belongs to the gods?" In Sharur's
    ears-and no doubt in Ereshguna's ears as well-the voice of Sharur's
    grandfather's ghost was a frightened screech. "Are you mad? What
    will your punishment be when the gods learn of what you have
    done?"
     "They are only foreign gods, ghost of my grandfather," Sharur said
    in the mumble mortals used to talk with a ghost when other mortals
    who could not hear that ghost were present. "And, if we break this
    thing, the foreign gods will not have the power to punish us."
     "Foreign gods!" Now Sharur's grandfather's ghost let out a dis,
    dainful sniff. "You have no business dealing with foreign gods in the
    first place. Leave them alone and pray they leave you alone, is all I
    can say."
     Ereshguna sighed. "Ghost of my father, he said in a mumble like
    Sharur's, "when you lived among men, you traveled to the mountains
    of Alashkurru. You dealt with the Alashkurrut. You dealt with the
    gods of the Alashkurrut. We follow in the footsteps you laid down."
     Habbazu could follow only one side of the conversation, but smiled
    in a way suggesting he had no trouble figuring out the other side.
    Sharur's grandfather's ghost said, "Aye, I traveled to the mountains
    of Alashkurru. Aye, I dealt with the Alashkurrut. Aye, I dealt with
    the gods of the Alashkurrut. And I hated the mountains of Alash,
    kurru. They were too high and rugged. I hated the Alashkurrut. They
    were too haughty and foreign. I hated the gods of the Alashkurrut.
    They were even more haughty and even more foreign. I would sooner
    have had nothing to do with any of them."
     Sharur schooled his features to stay straight. Laughing at a ghost

    




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    who complained about how things had been while he yet lived was
    rude. But Sharur recalled how many times his grandfather, while a
    living man, had told him stories of the Alashkurrut, stories that
    showed far more lively interest than hatred. Pointing that out now
    would be useless, so he stayed quiet.
     Ereshguna said, "Nothing is yet decided, ghost of my father. Noth-
    ing will be decided today, I do not think. We shall take time for
    thought, and then do as we reckon best."
     "It is the Zuabi who led you into this," the ghost said shrilly. "It
    is the Zuabi who sneaked into Engibil's temple. This thing you think
    of breaking must be the thing he thought of stealing. He is a foreigner,
    too, and has no business in Gibil." The ghost roared like a lion, as if
    seeking to frighten Habbazu away. But Habbazu could not hear him,
    and stayed where he was.
     "All will be well, ghost of my grandfather," Sharur said. "Truly,
    all will be well."
     Habbazu still looked as troubled as the ghost sounded. "I am
    afraid," he said. "All choices look bad to me now. To take the cup
    back to the mountains, to smash it-both fill me with dread. Even
    taking it to Enzuabu, as I had first thought to do, sets me to trembling
    like a leaf in the wind."
     "We can act in our own interest and be free, or we can be tools
    of the gods," Sharur said. "Do you see a third choice, master thief?"
     "If you leave only those choices, doing either the one thing or the
    other, no," Habbazu answered. "But could it not be that what is best
    for the gods will also prove best for mortal men?"
     "A good question," Ereshguna said.
     "A very good question," Sharur's grandfather's ghost agreed, so
    loudly that Sharur was almost surprised Habbazu could not hear him.
    "Maybe I was wrong. Maybe not all Zuabut are cheats and fools all
    the time."
     Maybe you approve of this Zuabi's words because he says things like
    the things you say, Sharur thought. But he did not argue with the
    ghost of his grandfather. He saw no point to arguing with the ghost
    of his grandfather. Arguing with a mortal man rarely changed his
    mind. Arguing with a ghost was a waste of breath.
       fter some thought, Sharur spoke to Habbazu: "What you say

    




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    bz,RRy TuRTLeOove
    
    could be, master thief We ourselves would draw great benefit from
    doing as the gods desire. But would our sons and grandsons, would
    their sons and grandsons, thank us for it?"
     I do not know," Habbazu replied. I can not know. Neither do
    you know. Neither can you know. But I see you are trying to think
    like a god, to think of what will be long after you are gone." The
    master thief sighed. I honor you for the effort. Let us think on this
    once more until morning, and then, if we have not found some com,
    pelling reason to change our course ... let us break the cup."
     "Father?" Sharur asked.
     Ereshguna also sighed. "Habbazu has spoken well. Let us think on
    this once more until morning, and then. .." He did not say the
    words, as Habbazu had said them, but he nodded. His eyes went to
    the jar of tin nodules wherein the Alashkurri cup rested. So did Hab,
    bazu's. And so did Sharur's.
    
    Sharur knew he lay sleeping on the mat on the roof of the house of
    Ereshguna. He did not seem to be there, though. He seemed to have
    returned to the company of the gods of the Alashkurru Mountains.
    He was not afraid. For one thing, he half expected-more than half
    expected-the Alashkurri gods Would bring this dream to him once
    more. For another, he knew it was only a dream. Nothing bad-
    nothing too bad-could happen to him in a dream.
     "Why do you hate us so?" Fasillar demanded. She folded her arms
    over her bulging belly, as if to say without words, How can you hate
    someone who aids in bringing new life into the world?
     The question was one that had a great many possible answers, as
    far as Sharur was concerned. He chose the softest one he could find.
    Yes, this was only a dream. Yes, the Alashkurri gods had scant power
    here. But they were gods, and power was what made them gods. I
    do not hate you, gods of the Alashkurrut," he said.
     "Then why do you seek to tamper with that which is not yours?"
    rumbled Tarsiyas, all shining in his armor of copper.
     "Why do you not return that which is not yours to those to whom
    it rightly belongs?" Fasillar added.
     "Why did you gods make life so hard for Giblut in the mountains

    




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    of Alashkurru?" Sharur returned. "Why have all the gods made life
    so hard for Giblut outside of Gibil?"
     "Because you took that which was not yours to take," Tarsiyas said
    angrily. "Because some foot of a mortal gave you that which was not
    his to give. Because-" He started to go on, but checked himself.
     Fasillar said, perhaps, that which he had begun to say but which
    he had held back: "Because, in taking that which was not yours to
    take, you have put us, the great gods of the Alashkurrut, in fear. It
    is not right that mortals should put the great gods in fear."
     "No, indeed. It is not right," Tarsiyas echoed. He shook his fist in
    the direction from which Sharur was perceiving him. "What is right
    is that the great gods should put mortals in fear. That is the natural
    order of things. That is how things should be. That is how things
    must be." He shook his fist again.
     If he thought his bombast and ferocious bluster were putting
    Sharur in fear, he was right. If he thought bombast and bluster would
    make Sharur more inclined to send the cup back to the mountains
    Of Alashkurru, he was wrong.
     Fasillar must have sensed as much, for the Alashkurri goddess of
    birth put on her face a look of such pleading, such piteousness, that
    even Sharur, knowing full well the expression was assumed, could
    hardly resist melting under it. "Will you not do as you should?" she
    said. "Will you not do as we ask? Would you deprive the Alashkurrut
    of the overlords they need? Would you deprive them of the gods they
    cherish?"
     Sharur thought of Huzziyas the wanax, who so wanted to trade
    with the Giblut that he was willing to do so by subterfuge. Only
    when Tarsiyas directly forbade him to engage in such trade had he
    desisted. Did he need the gods as overlords? Did he cherish them?
    Sharur had his doubts.
     "Do you think we cannot take vengeance if you seek to harm us?"
    Tarsiyas said now. "Do you think we shall have no power left with
    which to punish anyone who tries to do us wrong?"
     That was exactly what Sharur thought. That was exactly what
    Kessis and Mitas, the small gods of the Alashkurrut, had told him.
    Had they not told him, he would have thought so anyhow. The way
     the great gods of the Alashkurrut were behaving said more plainly
    
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    than any overt words how much they feared being brought low were
    the cup to break.
     "You have spoken much," Sharur said. "Will you answer now a
    question of mine?"
     "You may ask it," Fasillar said. "Whether we answer and how we
    answer will depend on what it is."
     "I understand," Sharur said. That was, as far as he could see, the
    first sensible response the gods of the Alashkurrut had given him.
    "Here is my question, then: why did you set so much of your power
    in this one cup?"
     "To keep it hidden," Fasillar replied at once. "To keep it secure.
    To keep it stored away where no one, god or man, would think to
    look for it." The goddess's mouth twisted. "This worked less well than
    we hoped it would."
     "To keep any cowardly wretch from stealing it," Tarsiyas added.
    "This also worked less well than we hoped it would."
     "From all that I have heard, from all that I have seen, from all
    that I have learned, this cup was not stolen from the mountains of
    Alashkurru," Sharur said. "This cup was fairly given in trade by an
    Alashkurri to a Gibli, and so it came to Gibil."
     "This cup was given by an idiot," Tarsiyas roared. "This cup was
    given by a fool. This cup was given by a dolt whose mother was a
    sow and whose father was a lump of dung. Speak to me not of the
    man by whom this cup was given." The god's face turned the color
    of his burnished copper armor. Sharur wondered if a god could suffer
    a fit of apoplexy. Had Tarsiyas been a man, Sharur would have judged
    him ripe for one.
     Fasillar took a gentler line: "Mortal, you can not deny that this
    cup was stolen from the temple in which it was placed. You can not
    deny it was raped away from the god's house in which it dwelt. This
    was not right. This was not just. The cup should be restored to us,
    its rightful owners."
     In his dream, Sharur bowed. "Goddess, you cannot deny that we,
    Giblut and the city of Gibil have suffered harm for what one of us
    did unwittingly. This was not right. This was not just. We are entitled
    to compensation or we are entitled to vengeance. When a surgeon
    cuts a man with an abscessed eye and causes him to lose the eye, the

    




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    surgeon pays compensation or has his hand cut off. The victim and
    his family choose the penalty. That is right. That is just."
     "We have offered compensation," Fasillar said. "We can offer
    more. Come to the mountains of Alashkurru, and we shall fill the
    packs of your donkeys with copper ore. We shall fill them with cop-
    per. We shall fill them with silver. We shall fill them with gold. The
    mountains of Alashkurru are rich in metals. We shall share the riches
    with the men of Gibil."
     Tarsiyas turned his angry face toward Fasillar. "No!" the war god
    shouted at the goddess of birth. "The Giblut are liars. The Giblut are
    thieves. The Giblut will make our own people like unto them if they
    keep coming into the mountains of Alashkurru. What good will it
    do us to have our cup back when in two generations our own people
    will be made like unto the Giblut? They will team to ignore us. They
    will learn to pay us no heed."
     "If we have not the cup back, if the cup be shattered, they will
    pay us no heed in less time than two generations," Fasillar answered.
    "How can we do anything but deal with the Giblut, and with this
    Glbli in particular? What choice have we?"
     "But the Gibli will not deal with us!" Tarsiyas howled.
     "Not if you keep trying to put him in fear," Fasillar said.
     "That has nothing to do with it," Tarsiyas said, which was in large
    measure true. "The Giblut have grown too used to taking gods lightly.
    They think themselves equal to gods. They think themselves superior
    to gods. Worse: they think themselves in no need of noticing gods.
    Have they tried to steal, have they tried to destroy, Engibil's store of
    power? No! They have not even bothered. They-"
     "Be still," Fasillar snarled, growing angry in turn. "Be still, or we
    shall see a generation of nothing but women bom in the mountains.
    Who will fight your precious wars then, when women have too much
    sense for them?"
     Tarsiyas shut up with a snap. Sharur had no idea whether Fasillar
    could do such a thing. He did not know whether Tarsiyas had any
    such idea, either. The Alashkurri war god was not inclined to take
    the chance, though, which struck Sharur as uncommonly sensible of
    him.
     Fasillar turned her attention back to Shatur. "What will you do,

    




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    man of Gibil?" she asked. "Will you take the road that leads to riches
    and delight, or will you run wild into chaos and madness and danger?"
     Tarsiyas also started to say something to Sharur. Fasillar sent a
    sharp glance toward her fellow deity. Tarsiyas said not a word. Had
    he been Tarsiyas, Sharur also would have said not a word. Fasillar
    looked in his direction once more, awaiting his reply.
     He did not want to come straight out and defy a god. He did not
    dare to come straight out and defy a god. Neither was he altogether
    certain he ought to defy the gods of the Alashkurrut. I will do that
    which seems best to me," he said slowly.
     All at once, he was awake on the roof, under the stars. He won-
    dered whether that meant the gods of the Alashkurrut had believed
    him or despaired of him. He wondered, too, which they should have
    done.

    




    12
    
    There on the counter, beside the scale that weighed out gold and
    silver, copper and tin, stood the snake-decorated clay cup from the
    Alashkurru Mountains. Sharur had gone downstairs to check on it
    and take it from the pot of tin after he woke from his dream, fearful
    lest Habbazu should have stolen it either for reasons of his own or
    because of urgings from the gods too strong for him to withstand.
     But the Zuabi thief had not disturbed the cup in the night. Now,
    in the clear light of morning, he stared at it along with Sharur and
    Ereshguna and Tupshaffu. Sharur's eyes went for a moment from the
    cup to the scales close by. The cup was more precious than anything
    he or his father or his brother set on the balance pans of the scale,
    but its value was not measured in keshlut.
     "Now we come down to it," Ereshguna said in a heavy voice.
     I am afraid. I am not ashamed to admit I am afraid," Habbazu
    said. Beside him, Tupsharru sipped on a cup of beer and nodded.
     I am also afraid," Sharur said. "But I have grown tired of being
    afraid." Afraid of the gods, was what he meant, but he was also afraid
    to say that aloud. His father and brother and the Zuabi thief under-
    stood him: of that he was sure. He went on, I would like to set men
    free. To how many is that chance given?"
     Ereshguna said, "Strange to think that, if we set men free by doing
    this, they are men far from Gibil, men far from the land between the
    rivers. "
     "Yes, it is strange," Sharur agreed. Something Tarsiyas had said
    during the dream the night before still rolled back and forth in his
    mind. Did Engibil have an object wherein he stored his power, as
    the gods of the Alashkurrut had stored theirs in this cup? Did other
    
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    1) 3,-RRV--fu- RTLG o OV C=
    
    gods have such objects? Did, for instance, Enimhursag have such an
    object hidden in his city?
     "Are we truly resolved to do this thing?" Ereshguna asked.
     Habbazu was silent. Tupsharru was silent. Sharur said, "Father, I
    think we are. Freeing men'anywhere will in the end help free men
    everywhere." Habbazu did not contradict him. Tupsharru did not
    contradict him. And, in the end, Ereshguna, whose contradiction he
    would have taken most seriously of all, did not contradict him, either.
     "Who will do it?" Habbazu asked. His voice was surprisingly small
    and surprisingly shaky. He had come further out from under the
    shadow of his city god, probably, than any other Zuabi. He was further
    out from under the shadow of his city god, probably, than many
    Giblut were out from under the shadow of Engibil. But he was not
    so far out from under the shadow of his city god as were Sharur,
    Ereshguna, and Tupsharru.
     "I will do it," Sharur said, and his voice was surprisingly small and
    surprisingly shaky, too. He did his best to strengthen it: "Most of the
    troubles we have known of late have sprung from my travels. Let us
    hope that, once the deed is done, the troubles will also be done."
     "We are men. We shall always have troubles," Ereshguna said.
    Habbazu nodded. After a moment, so did Sharur and Tupsharru.
    Ereshguna went on, "Let us hope that, once the deed is done, these
    troubles will also be done."
      Aye, Sharur said. "Let us indeed hope that."
     He looked around. His eye fell on a bronze vase decorated with
    reliefs of lions and crocodiles, and with a proud line of writing around
    the rim: DIMGALABZU MADE ME. Though they could not have read
    the inscription, the men of the mountains of Alashkurru would have
    cherished such a vase-had their gods let them trade with the Giblut.
    I'll A, - I'l 1,.,;J, t-l,- vase for a different reason one thev
    
    would never know. Sharur picked up the vase by the neck and hefted
    it in his hands. It was of a good size. It was of a good weight.
     "it is made from bronze," Tupsharru said, nodding at his choice
    
     "It is made from bronze, and it has syllables cut into the bronze,"
    Ereshguna said, also nodding. "That is very right. That is very fitting."
     "Such was my thought," Sharur said, and he nodded in tum.

    




    113ETWEEM TbC RIVERS
    
    "Metal and the written word: these are the po of men. They did
    not come to us from the gods. We found them for ourselves."
     Still holding the vase by the neck, he walked over to the counter
    and stood in front of the cup in which the great gods of the Alash-
    kurrut had hidden so much of their power. Suddenly, he stared at
    the cup-was that a cry of appeal he had heard? He rubbed at his
    left ear with his left hand, but the cry had not sounded in his ears,
    and he knew as much.
     But he was not the only one to have heard it. "They know what
    you are about to do," Habbazu whispered. "They know. Even here,
    they know."
     "They know," Ereshguna agreed. "They know, and they fear."
     That steadied Sharur. With a grunt of effort, he brought the up-
    ended vase down on the cup. The cup broke into a thousand sharp-
    edged shards of clay. They flew all around the room. One of them
    bit into Sharur's hand, as if the great gods of the Alashkurrut were
    taking what vengeance they could.
     It was but a small vengeance, though-a tiny vengeance. When
    the vase smashed down on the cup, Sharur heard another cry, or the
    beginning of another cry, but after only an instant it guttered down
    to a low wailing and was gone, as a torch will gutter out after burning
    all its fuel.
     "What a wailing and crying and gnashing of teeth!" Sharur's
    grandfather's ghost exclaimed. "What a howl of anguish! What a
    shriek of despair! My ears still ring with it, or they would if I still had
    ears. "
     "That cry was heard in your realm, too, ghost of my father?" Er-
    eshguna asked.
     "Heard?" the ghost said. "I should say it was heard. It echoes yet,
    and makes me tremble and shake. How could you have been bold
    enough, how could you have been mad enough, to do as you did?"
     Now that Sharur had done it, he wondered the same thing himself.
    Nervously, he asked, "Will others in your realm know who did this?
    Witt the gods be able to tell who did this?"
     "I saw you do it," his grandfather's ghost replied. "I heard the gods
    of the Alashkurrut cry out when you did it. Everyone in my realm
    from the mountains of Alashkurru to the swamps of Laravanglal, I

    




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    baRRY TURTLcOovc
    
    daresay, heard the gods of the Alashkurrut cry out when you did this$
    so great was that cry. So great was that cry, I think, that no one who
    did not see you do it will be able to know whence precisely it came."
     "For this news I thank you, ghost of my grandfather, Sharur said
    sincerely.
     "For this news you are welcome, my grandson," the ghost told him.
    "But I say this plainly: it is news you have by luck, not by design.
    Did you think on what this cry would be like in the world beyond
    the world of the living?" The ghost answered its own question before
    Sharur or his father or his brother could speak: "No, you did not.
    Manifestly, you did not."
     Since he was correct, neither Sharur nor Ereshguna nor Tupsharru
    argued with him. In musing tones, Sharur said, "I wonder what is
    happening in the mountains of Alashkurru now. If Tarsiyas, say, was
    speaking in his temple, was he suddenly struck dumb? If Fasillar was
    aiding a woman in childbirth, will the woman have to finish giving
    birth alone?"
     "Those are good questions," Ereshguna agreed. "I also wonder what
    will become of the people of the mountains of Alashkurru now that
    their great gods have lost this power. If such befell the Imhursagut,
    many of them would go mad, no longer having the god to take charge
    of their lives."
     "Some there may do that," Sharur said. "I do not think many will.
    Huzziyas the wanax, for instance, is a man much like Habbazu here,
    a man who has come a long way out from under the shadow of his
    gods and who would have come further had he but had the chance.
    Now he has the chance. The land of the Alashkurrut may know some
    chaos for a time, but the Alashkurrut are not like the Imhursagut."
     "I wonder what Enimhursag thinks of men and the things men say
    after you tricked him," Tupsharru said. "He will surely be less trusting
    of those from beyond his city. I wonder if he will also be less trusting
    of those from within his city."
     "A point," Sharur said, nodding. "I wonder if he will be less trust-
    ing of those from within his city whom we captured in the late war.
    I wonder if he will think they have been corrupted, living among us
    Giblut. I wonder if, thinking them corrupted, he will let their kin
    pay ransom for them."

    




    13ETWEC-M TbC RIVC-RS
    
     "If he will not let their kin pay ransom for them, then Ushurikti
    will sell them as slaves, as will other dealers in the city, and we Giblut
    shall have new backs and new hands to do our labor, Tupsharru
    said. He smiled and added, "And we shall have profit from the Im,
    hursagut Sharur captured."
     Habbazu smiled, too, in a different way. "Here you boast of setting
    the Alashkurrut free, but you also boast of profit from selling the
    lmhursagut as slaves."
     "They are not slaves of the gods," Sharur said. "They are the slaves
    of men, in the same way that a lugal rules in Gibil rather than a god
    or even an ensi."
     "That a lugal rules in Gibil rather than a god or even an ensi may
    be an improvement-or, then again, it may not," Habbazu said. "But
    will any man who is sold into slavery tell you it is an improvement
    over his earlier lot?"
     "If he is starving and sells himself to a master who will feed him,
    yes," Sharur said. "If he is not a man but a child whose father sells
    him to a master who will feed him where the father can not, yes
    
    again."
     "Hmm," Habbazu said, and then "Hmm" again. "You argue well-
    and why should you not? You are a Gibli, after all."
     "You steal well-and why should you not? You are a Zuabi, after
    all," Sharur returned. He and Habbazu both laughed. He went on,
    "I will tell you another man who will say slavery is an improvement
    on the lot he might have had: Duabzu the Imhursaggi, whom I cap,
    tured with the sword when I might have slain him with it."
     (Vell')l Habbazu said this time, and then "Well" again. "Perhaps
    you are right. Perhaps I spoke too soon."
     "Perhaps you did," Sharur said. "Perhaps you did."
    
    Ushurikti bowed low when Sharur came into his establishment. The
    slave dealer's face was red, and he wheezed a little as he straightened.
    Like Dimgatabzu, he was prosperous enough to be plump: an upstand~
    ing pillar in the community that was Gibil. "How may I serve you,
    son of Ereshguna?" he asked. "Will you drink beer with me? Will you
    eat bread and onions with me?"
    
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     "I will gladly drink beer with you. I will gladly eat bread and onions
    with you," Sharur replied. Ushurikti clapped his hands. One of his
    own personal slaves-not one of the men and women in whom he
    traded-fetched food and drink. After Sharur had refreshed himself,
    he asked if he might see Nasibugashi and Duabzu.
     Ushurikti's mobile features twisted into a sorrowful frown. "Truly
    my heart grieves, my master, that I cannot give you everything you
    desire on the instant. I have lent them, among others, out to Kimash
    the mighty lugal, and they are hard at work repairing canals that
    have begun to fall into decay. They eat of the lugal's bread. They
    drink of the lugal's beer. As they cannot eat of my bread or drink of
    my beer while they labor for the mighty lugal, I do not add their
    maintenance on these days to their ransom."
     "You are an honest man," Sharur said, and Ushurikti bowed again.
    Sharur went on, "With mention of ransom, though, you come to the
    question I would ask you concerning Nasibugashi and Duabzu and
    other Irnhursaggi captives who did not fall to me: is Enimhursag per,
    mitting their kin and their friends to ransom them?"
     "Ah." Ushurikti bowed yet again. "This is a most astute question
    indeed, master merchant's son, though of course I should have ex-
    pected nothing less from one so clever as yourself." He smiled an
    ingratiating smile. He was also a merchant, and knew the value of
    flattery.
     So did Sharur, who hid a smite at seeing the techniques he used
    himself now aimed at him. He noted that, despite the flattery, the
    slave dealer had not answered his question. He tried again: "What
    does Enimhursag say about ransoming prisoners? Will he permit it,
        7)1
    or not.
     "Alt I can tell in that regard is this: the god of Imhursag will permit
    it-or not," Ushurikti replied, now looking somewhat less happy be-
    
    cause he was compelled to admit his own lack of omniscience.
    
    (C14 ow do you mean?" Sbarur asked "You have succeeded in con-
    
     I am also to be numbered among the confused," Ushurikti said.
    I would not deny it. I could not deny it. As is the custom between
    Gibil and Imhursag after our wars, I have written to the kin of those
    Imhursagut whom we captured, seeking ransom for their loved ones.

    




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     As is also the custom between Gibil and Imhursag, I have written to
     the temple of Enimhursag in Imhursag, asking leave to seek ransom
     for those Imhursagut whom we captured. For long and long, this has
     been but a formality, with agreement always promptly forthcoming,
     else I should have written to the god at his temple before writing to
     the captives' kin."
       "But not this time?" Sharur said.
       "But not this time," the slave dealer agreed.
     "But Enimhursag has not refused to let the Imhursagut ransom
     their kin," Sharur persisted. "Had he done so, you would have told
     me plainly." I hope you would have told me plainly.
     "Enimhursag has not refused, but neither has Enimhursag as,
     sented, Ushurikti said. "Enimhursag has not responded at all. In
     most such times, the god will say aye while my courier waits at his
     temple; sometimes he will even say aye through a chance-met man
     while my courier is still on the road toward the city of Imhursag. But
     my courier delivered the customary letter, and the god told him he
     would respond in his own time. That time has not yet come round."
     "How strange," Shatur said, and the slave dealer nodded emphatic
     agreement. "I wonder why."
     "So do U, Ushurikti replied. "It is a puzzlement. It is most unlike
     Enimhursag, of all the gods there be, to break custom. He has ever
     been one to stand for doing things as they were always done."
     "That he has; it is one of the reasons he hates Gibil and the Giblut
     so," Sharur said. He scratched his head. "I wonder if he fears letting
     the Imhursagut whom we captured return to his city, lest they tell
     their kin we live better and more pleasantly than they. For, having
     been to Imhursag, I speak the truth when I say we do live better and
     more pleasantly than the Imhursagut. No one who has seen Gibil
     and Imhursag both could doubt it."
       "Not even a slave?" Ushurikti asked.
       "Not even a slave, Sharur declared.
     Ushurikti also scratched his head. He plucked at his beard, a car-
     icature of a man thinking hard. At last he said, "It could be so, master
IF; merchant's son. It could well be so, in fact. It makes more sense than
      any notion I have had for myself. And, while I have never seen
      Imhursag, I have had enough dealings with Imhursagut and with

    




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    Enimhursag himself to know that I would never want to live in a city
    with those men and ruled by that god."
     "Nor would L" Sharur said.
     "But I will tell you something else," Ushurikti said, "and that is
    that, even here in Gibil, living is not always so easy as we wish it
    would be. Why, not long after you and that Zuabi mercenary brought
    that Duabzu fellow in to me, the priests of Engibil came through here
    like locusts-locusts, I tell you-in search of something they said
    had been stolen from the god's temple. I think they only wanted the
    chance to snoop, and I shall not change my opinion. As if 1, a rep-
    utable trader, would for a moment harbor stolen property, human or
    otherwise, here in my establishment."
     "I heard the priests of Engibil and also the servants of Kimash the
    mighty lugal were searching through the city for some such thing,"
    Sharur said. "I do not know much about this, for I had already gone
    back to the camp in the north and to the fighting we did there."
     "Of course." The slave dealer's head bobbed up and down. "But I
    mind me, master merchant's son, that the priests were asking a good
    many questions about this Zuabi. All Zuabut being thieves, my guess
    is that they wanted to blame the crime-if crime there was-on him
    so they would not have to do. anything more in the way of proper
    looking themselves."
     "It could well be so," Sharur replied. Ushurikti was indeed a man
    of no small weight in the city-if he believed something that cast
    scom upon Engibil and his priests, he would help make others in
    Gibil do likewise, which would in turn help reduce the influence of
    the god and his priesthood.
     "I should say it could," Ushurikti said now. "Why, at that enter-
    tainment you put on outside the god's house on earth-for which,
    honor to you and to your generosity-did you hear that white-
    bearded fool of a priest ranting and raving against everything that
    makes life worth living? If he had his way, life would not be worth
    living."
     "No doubt you are right," Sharur said. "Old Itakabkabu is morc
    sour than a pickled onion." And yet, the old priest had been far close]
    to correct about Habbazu's attempted thievery of two nights beforf
    the entertainment-and about much else besides-than had Bur

    




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    shagga, who was a man of the new. But being right had done him no
    good, a twist of fate Sharur savored.
     "Ha! " Ushurikti said. "Well put, master merchant's son. Well put.
    I shall send a messenger hotfoot to the house of Ereshguna when the
    lugal restores to me Nasibugashi and Duabzu, in whom you have an
    interest, or when I hear from Imhursag-or rather from Enimhursag-
    on the matter of ransoms."
     "You are gracious." Sharur bowed. "I know I may rely on you. You
    are a conscientious man."
     Ushurikti beamed. "Praise from a man who is praiseworthy is praise
    indeed. Insofar as I can make it so, everything shall be as you desire."
     "For your kindness and your care, I am in your debt," Sharur said.
    After exchanging more polite formulas with the slave dealer, he went
    on his way. He had not learned what he had come to learn, but he
    had learned that what he had come to learn was there to be learned.
    That too was knowledge worth having, and he took it back with him
    to the house of Ereshguna-
    
    A druggist came into the house of Ereshguna and asked Sharur,
    "Have you any of that powdered black mineral from the mountains?
    You know the one I mean: the one I mix with perfumed mutton fat
    and sell to the women, that they may darken their eyebrows and
    eyelashes with it, and perhaps paint beauty marks on their cheeks or
    on their chin."
     "My master, I believe I do, but it has been some little while since
    anyone asked me for it, so I shall have to rummage about to find it."
    Sharur duly rummaged on shelves and through storage jars, and at
    last came up with a small pot ornamented with the face of a woman
    with entrancing eyes. "Here you are: first grade, finely ground. How
    much do you require?"
     Before the druggist answered, he took a tiny pinch of the powder,
    brought it up to his face to examine it closely, and rubbed it between
    forefinger and thumb to see just how finely it was ground. At last,
    grudgingly, he nodded. "It is as you say it is. Weigh me out four
    keshlut."
     "it shall be as you say," Sharur replied. As he piled the cosmetic

    




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    powder on one pan of the scales to balance the four little bronze
    weights on the other, he went on, "The price is two thirds of the
    weight in silver."
     The druggist screamed at him. He had expected nothing else, and
    screamed back. They settled on a price of one half the powder's
    weight. Sharur would have settled for even a little less than that,
    which was nothing the druggist needed to know. The man took bro,
    ken bits of silver from the pouch on his belt and set them on the
    scales until he had two keshlut there.
     "It is good," he said. "I have had three women ask me for this paste
    in the last two days, and I have been embarrassed to go without."
    Contented, he took the powder, which he had stored in his own little
    jar, and departed.
     Another man pushed past him into the house of Ereshguna, a
    stalwart fellow of about the age of Sharur's father. Sharur did not
    recognize him till he took off his straw hat and fanned himself with
    it. "Ah," Sharur said, bowing as he might have to any new customer.
    "You have not honored us with your presence for some little while,
    lzmaili."
     "And yet you remember the name I give myself. No wonder you
    are a master merchant's son, soon, no doubt, to be a master merchant
    yourself." Izmaili-as Kimash the lugal preferred to call himself when
    he went out into Gibil without the trappings that made him as nearly
    divine as a man could be-smiled and nodded.
     "You are kind and gracious," Sharur said. "How may I serve you?
    Would you like some cosmetic powder, as the druggist before you
    did?"
     "I thank you for the thought, but no; I have come to the house of
    Ereshguna for a rather different reason." Kimash's voice was dry.
     "I am your servant, as I am the servant of any man who comes to
    the house of Ereshguna to buy or to sell," Sharur replied.
     "I fear I have come neither to buy nor to sell," Kimash said.
    another sits where I often do"-an allusion to the impostor who
    occupied the lugal's high seat while he in, turn impersonated an or,
    dinary man-1 have come to pass the time of day, to gossip."
     "Shall I bring you beer, then, lzmaili?" Sharur asked. "Shall I brin

    




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    you salt fish? Shall I bring you onions? Would you care to drink while
    you pass the time of day7 Would you care to eat while you gossip?"
     "I would be grateful for beer and for salt fish and for onions,"
    Kimash said, though in the palace he was no doubt used to the dain-
    tier viands the man who took his place on the seat might now enjoy.
    Sharur fetched the beer and food with his own hands, not wanting
    to summon a slave who was liable to recognize the lugal and do some
    gossiping of his own, gossiping that could get back to Engibil's ears.
     Kimash drank beer and ate salt fish and onions with every sign of
    enjoyment, as if he were a shopkeeper or an artisan or a peasant rather
    than likely the single most powerful man in the land between the
    rivers. Sharur ate and drank with him, and presently, when the beer
    in his cup had nearly reached the bottom, he spoke to lzmaili who
    was Kimash as if he were a shopkeeper or an artisan or a peasant who
    had come into the house of Ereshguna: "So. What have you heard?
    What do you want to know?"
     Kimash smiled again. He bit into an onion and breathed odorous
    fumes into Sharur's face. "What have I heard? I have heard that
    something once missing is now gone for good. What do I want to
    know? I want to know whether what I have heard is true."
     "Ah," Sharur said, and then said nothing more for some little
    while. At last, doing his best to remain casual, he went on, "And
    where might you have heard such a thing as that?"
     "I heard it from someone who labors in the house from which the
    thing disappeared, " Kimash answered elliptically. Burshagga told him,
    having learned from the god, Sharur thought: Burshagga or some other
    man of the new among the priesthood. If breaking the Alashkurri cup
    had alarmed Sharur's grandfather's ghost, what must it have done to
    Engibil? What must it have done to gods throughout the land of
    Kudurru? The ghost had said no one, ghost or demon or god, would
    be able to tell whence the cry of anguish from the Alashkurri gods
    had come, for which Sharur was heartily glad.
     He answered, "The man who labors in that house did tell you the
    truth, as a matter of fact." How would Kimash respond to that? The
    lugal had sought Habbazu in the same way as had Engibil; he had
    sought the master thief as if he were a servant of the god.

    




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     But Kimash slowly clapped his hands together-once, twice, three
    times. "It is good," he said. "It is very good. The gods who suffered
    this are not our gods. The gods who suffered this dwell far away. But
    with men in one place freer, men everywhere breathe more easily.
    My great-grandfather was an ensi, through whom Engibil spoke. His
    great-grandfather was a priest, to whom Engibil gave orders as En,
    imhursag gives the Imhursagut orders today."
     He did not directly name himself, or what he was, or how he did
    what he did. Sharur spoke with similar care: "Today the lugal speaks
    in his own voice, but must ever be wary, lest the god seek to seize
    once more the power he has let slip between his fingers. But how
    will things be in the days of the lugal's great-grandson? And how will
    things be in the days of his great-grandson?"
     "Even so," Kimash said softly. His eyes glowed. "Even so. How will
    things be in the days of his great-grandson? Who then will be wary
    of whom?"
     "That is surely an ... interesting question," Sharur said. He imag,
    ined Engibil reduced to the status of a demon of the desert, or perhaps
    to that of a small god like Kessis or Mitas, able to change a man's
    luck for good or ill but not much more-certainly unable to aspire
    to the rule of a city. He imagined lugals ruling in other cities in the
    land between the rivers. He imagined even stubborn gods feeling men
    from their own cities chopping at their heels as Sharur had chopped
    at Enimhursag's heel during the second battle against the Imhursagut.
     Kimash said, "The road will not be easy. The road will not run
    straight. The gods will see in which direction it runs. They will try
    to turn us back along it. They are strong. They are dangerous. They
    may yet win. If Engibil truly did choose to rise up in wrath now, who
    knows whether we Giblut could hope to withstand his anger and his
    might?"
     "So the lugal feared earlier this year," Sharur said, continuing to
    speak of Kimash as if he were someone else. "But, from what I have
    heard, the god had not the will to rise up in wrath, even if he had
    the strength."
     "What you have heard and what I have heard are one and the
    same," Kimash said. "Distracting the god has always been the lugal's

    




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    greatest need. I do hope, though, that distracting the god shall not
    always be the lugal's greatest need."
     "Might ... ah, lzmaili, I think it may not be so," Sharur replied,
    and told the lugal what Tarsiyas had indiscreetly revealed about the
    thing in which Engibil had secreted away so much of his power.
     "Well, well," Kimash said. "How interesting." For a moment,
    Sharur was disappointed at getting no stronger response. Then Ki-
    mash leaned toward him and demanded, "Do you know what sort of
    thing this is? Do you know where it may be found?"
     "I know neither of these things," Sharur answered. "I do not think
    I was meant to know such a thing even existed. The Alashkurri god
    spoke of it in a temper to a goddess. But I heard. In my dream, I
    heard. And what I heard in my dream, I remember."
     "Well, well," the lugal said again. "This is no small matter you
    have set before me. I am glad I am only an ordinary man, and do not
    have to concern myself with such." His smile declared how far apart
    lay the words that came from his mouth and the thoughts that formed
    behind his eyes.
     Sharur had thoughts of his own, too. He turned one loose: "I won-
    der how a man who is not an ordinary man, a man who does have
    to concern himself with such, would go about finding this thing,
    whatever it may be?"
     "Right now, I do not know. Right now, I can not guess," Kimash
    said. "But such a man will surely concern himself with such a thing
    before any great stretch of time has passed."
     "This I believe," Sharur said. "Even searching for such a thing
    without great hope of success, a man might make a better bargain
    with a god than otherwise."
     "Truly you are a master merchant's son," Kimash said. "Truly you
    shall soon become a master merchant yourself."
     "That is a generous thing for a person of no consequence such as
    yourself, lzmaili, to say," Shatur replied with a bow. Kimash, recog-
    nizing that he had in fact been addressed in his proper rank, gra-
    ciously inclined his head.
     Sharur started to say something more, but then paused, weighing
    whether he should. Kimash noticed, but misunderstood his reasons. In

    




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    a cautious voice, the lugal asked, "Has the god seized your wits, son of
    Ereshguna? If it be so, can you find some way to let me know it is so?"
     "It is not so," Sharur declared. "I am sorry if I alarmed you, but it
    is not so. On the contrary. I have another thought you may perhaps
    find worth hearing."
     "I listen." Kimash inclined his head once more.
     "Hear MY words, then," Sharur said, exactly as if he were speaking
    to lzmaili the man of no particular consequence rather than to Ki,
    mash the lugal of Gibil. "The great gods of the Alashkurrut had this
    thing, into which they poured a great part of their power for what
    they thought to be safekeeping. The great gods of the Alashkurrut
    likewise let slip that Engibil has such a thing, into which he has
    poured a great part of his power. Could it be that all gods have such
    a thing, into which they have poured a great part of their power for
    what they think to be safekeeping?"
     Kimash stood some time still and silent. Then he stepped forward
    and kissed Sharur on both cheeks. "It could be. It could be indeed."
    His smile might have appeared on the face of a lion spying a fat
    gazelle that did not spy it in turn. Slowly, he went on, "I wonder if
    Enimhursag has such a thing, into which he has poured a great part
    of his power for what he thinks to be safekeeping."
     That same smile stole across Shdrur's face. "If Enimhursag has such
    a thing, I wonder who would be more eager to find it and destroy it:
    we Giblut, or the Imhursagut the god has oppressed for so long?"
     "If the Imhursagut were more like us Giblut, my wager would be
    on them," Kimash replied. "As things are. . ." He shrugged. "Perhaps
    
     "Provided, of course, that an Imhursaggi will listen," Sharur said
    "Provided that an Imhursaggi will profit from instruction. Such
    
    thing is possible, I suppose, but by no means sure."
    
     "Indeed not," Kimash said. "In their resolute stupidity, the Im,
    hursagut very much resemble their god, just as the Zuabut resemble
    Enzuabu in their inveterate thievery." He paused and looked-
    thoughtful once more. "I wonder why we Giblut do not resemble
    Engibil, who is as lazy and lackadaisical as Enzuabu is thievish and

    




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     "Folk whose god is lazy and lackadaisical needs must do for them-
    selves what that lazy, lackadaisical god will not do for them," Sharur
    replied. "We are as we are because Engibil is as he is. And, because
    Engibil is as he is, we now draw near the point where we can live
    without him." He lowered his voice to a whisper for that last sen-
    tence-the Giblut might have been drawing near such a point, but
    they had not yet reached it.
     "My great-grandson," Kimash murmured. "His great-grandson."
    He raised an eyebrow at Sharur. "Remember, son of Ereshguna, my
    great-grandson could be your grandson."
     "That could be, yes, but for him to do as you do"-to sit on the
    throne of Gibil, Sharur meant, but would not say-"your mate line
    would have to fail, which I pray it may never do. And, now that
    Engibil has assented to the match my family made for me, I am, as I
    have told you, content and more than content with it."
     I had gathered that your match was among other things a love
    match. Now I see it must be so indeed," Kimash said. "Only a love
    match would make a man turn away from power when it is offered
    to him like a pot in the market square." He seemed to remember
    himself and the role he had assumed. "Fortunately, 1, lzmaili, a person
    of no particular account, do not need to concern myself with such
    things." He bowed and departed.
     Sharur stared after him. He had expected the lugal to be more
    annoyed at the destruction of the Alashkurri cup, but Kimash had
    accepted that without a qualm once it was accomplished. He had
    also accepted Sharur's avoidance of a marriage alliance more readily
    than Sharur had thought he would.
     Maybe the thought of truly bringing Engibil to heel once and for
    all pleased the lugat more than any lesser disappointment bothered
    him. Had Sharur dwelt in the palace rather than in the house of
    Ereshguna, he knew how much that thought would have pleased him.
    As a matter of fact, it pleased him quite a lot even though he did
    dwelt in the house of Ereshguna. And the thought of truly bringing
    Enimhursag to heel once and for all pleased him even more.

    




    b3,RRY TURTILebovc=
    
    Ushurikti frowned. "Are you sure you wish to do this, master mer-
    chant's son? You consigned these slaves to me for sale. I shall have
    to charge the house of Ereshguna not only for their maintenance
    while in my hands but also for a part of the price I could have ex-
    pected to realize from such sale."
     "Unless it be a very large part, I shall not object," Sharur replied.
    "Unless it be an extortionate part, I shall not complain."
     "We can settle that in due course," the slave dealer said. "First,
    though, tell me, if you would, why you have suddenly decided to set
    these two Imhursagut free instead of profiting from them."
     "I have a message I wish to send back to Imhursag, and they are
    the fitting ones to bear it," Sharur said.
     "You must be the judge of that, of course," Ushurikti replied, "but
    you must also recall that they are at present laboring in the south for
    the mighty lugal, and are not here at my establishment."
     "I do indeed recall that," Sharur said, "but they are laboring in
    the south for the mighty lugal because they are slaves, or are presumed
    to be slaves. If you send a runner to the south with word they are in
    fact to be freed, will the runner not be likely to return to Gibil with
    them trailing after him as sheep trail after a wether?"
     "Likely he will, master merchant's son." Ushurikti looked calcu,
    lating. "As you are doing this of your own will, it is just that you send
    a runner to the south and you pay him to bring Duabzu and Nasi-
    bugashi back to Gibil."
     "Let it be done as you say," Sharur answered resignedly. Ushurikti
    instructed the runner where in the south the two Imhursaggi captives
    were laboring for the lugal. Sharur gave him a clay tablet to show to
    whatever foreman Kimash had set over them, authorizing their re-
    lease. He rolled his stone cylinder seal over the bottom of the damp
    tablet, confirming it had come from him. The runner trotted off, his
    sandals kicking up puffs of dust as he went.
     He returned three days later, with the two Imhursagut trailing after
    him just as Sharur had foretold. When Ushurikti sent word they had
    arrived, Sharur hurried over to the slave dealer's establishment.
    There he found the men he had captured, both of them anxious to
    
    "Can it be true?" Duabzu asked. "Can you really intend to set us

    




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    free?" Now that he had tasted the life of a slave, he was no longer so
    eager to endure it as he had been when Sharur spared his life on the
    battlefield.
     "Have we then been ransomed?" Nasibugashi added. For an Im-
    hursaggi, he seemed, as he had always seemed, uncommonly alert and
    aware of the consequences of actions in the world around him.
     "You are to be freed," Sharur replied, and both Imhursagut cried
    out. Sharur went on, "You are not to be ransomed. I set you free
    without being paid even so much as a barleycom." They cried out
    again, this time in astonishment. Sharur held up a hand. "I have one
    condition, and one only, I set on your freedom: you must both deliver
    and spread widely through Imhursag a message I shall give you."
     Duabzu got down upon his belly and touched his forehead to
    Sharur's foot. "In the great and mighty and terrible name of Enim-
    hursag, I swear I shall obey you as a son obeys his father." Nasibugashi
    swore the same oath, though he did not humble himself before Shatur
    in the same way.
     "It is good," Sharur said. "Here, then, is the message: somewhere
    in the land of Imhursag is some small, hidden thing into which En-
    imhursag has poured a great part of his power for safekeeping. I do
    not know what it is. I do not know where it is. I do know that, should
    it be broken, a great part of Enimhursag's power will be broken with
    it. Deliver and spread widely through Imhursag this message I have
    given you, as you have sworn to do."
     Duabzu looked appalled. "But this is a message that might prove
    dangerous to the great god. This is a message that might bring harm
    to the mighty god." By way of reply, Sharur smiled at him. That only
    made him look more appalled. He had sworn an oath by the god he
    loved, the god who ruled him absolutely, but to Ufill it he would, as
    he said, have to endaneer the Lod.
     Nasibugashi said, "I see now what I have seen again and again
    since being deceived into entering Gibil in the first place: this city
    has a larger store of clever men, men who are ready for anything and
    to turn anything to their advantage, than does Imhursag. Imhursag
    would be a better place if we had more men of this sort."
     "Imhursag would be a place more like Gibil if we had more men
    of this sort." Duabzu's shudder plainly gave his opinion of that.

    




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     To Nasibugashi, Sharur said, "I do not know whether you will take
    this for good or ill, but you strike me as being more nearly a man of
    this sort than most Imhursagut I have seen."
     "I do not know whether to take this for good or ill, either," Na,
    sibugashi replied.
     "Enimhursag will surely know whether to take this for good or ill."
    By Duabzu's tone, he had no doubt how the god of Imhursag would
    take it. Sharur suspected Duabzu was right, too. If Enimhursag saw
    what Duabzu and Nasibugashi carried in their minds, his wisest course
    might be to strike them both dead the instant they crossed into land
    he ruled.
     But, while that might keep Enimhursag safe for the time being, it
    would also make Imhursag fall further behind Gibil not only in the
    art of war but also in the art, if art it was, of producing men such as
    those to whom Nasibugashi had alluded. If Imhursag fell further be,
    hind Gibil, sooner or later the Giblut would be in a position to over-
    run their rivals and find for themselves the thing into which
    Enimhursag had poured a great part of his power for safekeeping. And
    when they did ...
     Sharur would not have wanted to be the god of Imhursag, nor to
    be faced with the choices the god of Imhursag was facing. When he
    remembered the choices with which the god of Imhursag and the
    other gods had faced him, though, he was far from altogether sor
    
     "You have sworn your oath. I expect you to obey it when you
    return to the land of the Imhursagut," he said to Nasibugashi and
    
    Duabzu. "Return to the land of the Imhursagut you shall. I set you
    free. I release you. No one shall make any claim on you. No one shall
    molest vou. Go now and return not to Gibil unless vou should co e
    
     The two Imhursagut left the establishment of Ushurikti the slave
    dealer, Nasibugashi walking straight and tall, Duabzu almost slinking
    after him. Duabzu was afraid. Duabzu, Sharur thought, had good rea.
    
    Ushurikti said, "Master merchant's son, now I see why you have
    
    done as you have done. You have given Enimhursag poison hidden
    inside a date candied in honev- in freeino two men for him vou av

    




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    have freed his city from him. I bow before your cleverness." He suited
    action to word. "This, of course, does not mean I abandon my claim
    for compensation over what I might have expected to earn from the
    sale of these two men."
     "Of course," Sharur said. "I expected nothing different."
     "You had better not have expected anything different." Despite
    an unprepossessing, pudgy build, Ushurikti drew himself up to his full
    height. "Am I not also a Gibli, even as are you? Am I not also a
    merchant, even as are you?"
     "You are a Gibli, even as I am. You are a merchant, even as I am."
    Sharur clapped the slave dealer on the shoulder. "And together, you
    and I have this day struck no small blow for all Giblut."
     "May it be so," Ushurikti said, "as long as I get my profit, too."
    
    A commotion in the street outside the house of Ereshguna made
    Sharur glance up from the tablet on which he was inscribing measures
    of barley received in exchange for some of the tin that had been
    stored in the pot where he'd hidden the Alashkurri cup. "Come on,
    you lug!" a man with a deep voice shouted. "Don't think you can
    give me and my pal the slip, because we cursed well won't let you!
    Now move, before something worse happens to you."
     A moment later, Mushezib, the guard captain on Sharur's caravan
    to the Alashkurru Mountains, strode into the house of Ereshguna.
    With him came Harharu, the donkeymaster on that caravan. And
    jammed between them, like salt fish and lentils and sesame seeds
    between two rounds of flatbread, perforce came Habbazu the master
    thief.
     Mushezib had hold of his right arm. Harharu had hold of his left
    arm. If he tried to escape, they would tear him in two, as a man at a
    feast might tear a leg of roasted duck in two.
     "Here's that lousy Zuabi wretch, master merchant's son," Mushezib
    boomed. "Harharu and I were drinking a quiet cup of beer together
    when the fellow came swaggering by, bold as you please. Harharu.
    gets the credit for spotting him, because I didn't. But I'm the one
    who jumped on the son of a thousand fathers, so I guess we ought to
    split the reward you promised."

    




    370
    
    'baRRy TuRTLIOO~Ve
    
     "I had almost given up looking for the thief, master merchant's
    son," Harharu said, "and then he strolled past my nose when I
    thought he must surely have gone back to Zuabu. I am glad I was
    able to help put him in your hands."
     Habbazu said not a word. He looked at Sharur with large, re-
    proachful eyes. Sharur, for once in his life, had trouble finding words
    himself He had offered the reward for Habbazu's capture. He had
    offered the reward, and then he had forgotten about it. The men to
    whom he had offered it, though, they had remembered.
     He saw only one way to disarm their suspicions, and that was to
    play along with them. "Well done," he said. "Well done for being
    so faithful, well done for being so vigilant. I said I would reward you.
    Reward you I shall. I promised gold. Gold I shall give you, gold in
    
    eaual measure."
    
     He oun two rings, thin bands of gold. Setting them on the scales,
    he discovered one was heavier than the other. He weighed the heav-
    ier one, then took it off the scales, set the lighter one on the pan in
    its place, and added tiny scraps of gold until they and the ring bal,
    anced the weights in the other pan. The heavier ring he gave to
    
    Harharu. I he lighter ring and the gold scraps he gave to Mushezib.
     "You are generous, master merchant's son," Harharu said, bowing.
     "Truly you are generous," Mushezib agreed. "But can we leave this
    wretch of a Zuabi with you now that we have gained our reward? He
    
     "What good would it do him, when he has seen he cannot escape
    the vigilance of the Giblut?" Sharur said. "You may leave him here
    
    ith me. I will tend to him as is most fittina 1)
    
    "Ha!" Mushezib said. "In that case, he'll be sorry was ever
    
    "The master merchant's son has not ex,,lained his nu oses to us "
    
     "He doesn't need to explain them to me. I can figure them out for
    myself," Mushezib said. After giving Habbazu the sort of took he
    would have given to offal he needed to wipe from the soles of his
    sandals, he strode out of the house of Ereshguna. By his manner, he
    might have been a great captain who had just led the Gibli army to

    




    13CTWC-CM TbC RIVERS
    
    371
    
    victory against Imhursag, not a guard captain who had just laid hands
    on a single thief
     Having dealt with donkeys for so many years, Harharu was less
    confident he could immediately understand everything that went on
    around him. He let go of Habbazu and said, "I hope our capturing
    the thief after so long a time still suits your purposes, master mer-
    chant's son."
     "Did it not, would I have given you gold?" Sharur returned. "Did
    it not, would I have set a ring of precious metal on your finger?"
     "I am not so quick to judge purposes as my comrade, Harharu
    said. "Whatever yours may be, I pray they prosper." He bowed to
    Sharur and followed Mushezib out onto the Street of Smiths.
     Habbazu turned his dark gaze on Sharux. Sharur coughed and
    looked away and drummed his fingers on his thigh and did everything
    else he could to convey without words how embarrassed he was. Hab-
    bazu, now, Habbazu had words: "In a way, learning how greatly I am
    desired is heartening, but only in a way. Were you a beautiful woman
    seeking me so, I should have come closer to finding it worthwhile.
    Even then, though, having my arms all but pulled from their sockets
    would be no small sacrifice."
     "I set the men seeking you long before you stole the thing from
    the place wherein it was kept," Sharur said, speaking obliquely from
    long habit. "When they did not find you, the thought in my mind
    was that they would not and could not find you, and so I did not call
    them off. This was an error on my part. I see as much now, and I am
    sorry for it."
     "I have heard few apologies in my life," Habbazu said, "and I have
    heard fewer apologies still that sound as if those who make them
    speak from the heart, not from the tongue alone. Now I press new
    syllables into the clay tablet of my memory."
     "Master thief, you are gracious. Habbazu, you are generous," Sharur
    said. "I shall spread the word throughout the city that you are to be
    hunted no more. I shall spread the word to caravan guards and don-
    key handlers that you are to be left alone."
     "I might wish you had done this sooner. I do wish you had done
    this sooner," Habbazu said. "Still, that you do it at all speaks well of

    




    you.' He paused. "I hope your noising my name abroad in the city
    does not bring me to the notice of the lugal. I hope your speaking of
    V- oraxpar% ards and donkev handlers does not bring me to the
    
     "You need not fear the lugal," Sharur said. "Now that the deed is
    done, he is glad it is done. As for the temple and the god..." He
    told of letting Kimash know that Engibil had stored a great part of
    his nower as the oods of the Alashkurrut had stored a great art of
    
    "Is this so?" Habbazu murmured. "Is it so indeed? I did not hear
    
    vet ... and yet it makes sense that it should be so, eh? If some gods
    
    "So it would seem," Sharur replied. "So I believe. But of proof
    
     "If the gods of the Alashkurrut do thus and Engibil does likewise
    would it not follow that Enimhursag also does likewise?" Habbazu
    said. Seeing Sharur's predatory smile, the master thief grinned back
    a grin that made him look very much like a preternaturally cleve
    monkey. Slowly, that grin faded, to be replaced by a thoughtful ex
    pression. "And would it not follow that Enzuabu also does likewise?'
     Sharur stepped forward and set a hand on Habbazu's shoulder.
    congratulate you, my friend. Now you have become more surely
    
    Gibli for the rest of your life than ever you were betore. It you enter
    into Zuabu with this thought in your mind, if Enzuabu sees this
    thought in your mind as you enter into Zuabu, what will become of
    
     He had sent Nasibugashi and Duabzu toward Imhursag with this
    thought in their minds and without a qualm in his own. Them he
    had used as weapons against Enimhursag, as he had used a sword in
    the recent fighting against the god of the Imhursagut. Habbazu was
    not merely a weapon. Habbazu had become an ally and, in an odd
    
     "What will become of me?" the Zuabi repeated. "Less than you
    think, master merchant's son. Do you not know, do you not remem-
    ber, that the god of Zuabu is also the god of thieves? Do you not

    




    73CTWEE" The RIVERS
    
    373
    
    think that the god of thieves is able to protect his own from those
    who would steal it?"
     "A point," Sharur admitted. "Surely a point. And yet, how great
    a point? Is he able to protect his own from those who would steal
    provided that they are many and diligent and seek their goal for
    generations if need be?"
     Habbazu's mobile eyebrows sprang upwards. "I do not know. I won-
    der if Enzuabu would know. Being a god, he would also be sure he
    could defeat any one man, and he would be right in being sure. But
    can he defeat, can he deceive, all men over all time? Would such a
    thought even cross his mind? I do not know."
     "Being a god, he is sure to be arrogant," Sharur said. "Having held
    so much power for so long, gods think they shall easily hold all power
    forever. Certain potsherds that have been swept away should teach
    them otherwise."
     'Hmm, Habbazu said. "Perhaps I would do best to stay in Gibil
    after all-provided, of course, that you can keep these Gibli ruffians
    from assaulting me in the street while I pursue my lawful occasions."
     "You are a Zuabi master thief," Sharur exclaimed. "How can you
    possibly pursue lawful occasions?"
     Spoken in a different tone of voice, that would have been an insult.
    As it was, the two men grinned at each other. Habbazu said, "What-
    ever occasions I pursue, I shall now go and pursue them. Have I your
    gracious leave to do that-if, as I say, I am not to be manhandled
    the instant I show my face outside your door?"
     "You have my gracious leave, certainly," Sharur said. "Whether
    you prove to have Mushezib's gracious leave, or Harharu's, is liable
    to be a different question."
     "They took me by surprise, as you did earlier." Habbazu looked
    annoyed at himself. "Now I know their faces. Now I know their
    voices. Now I know their movements, even if I spy them moving in
    a crowd. They shall not lay hands on me again, I assure you."
     "I have no doubt that you know your own affairs best," Sharur
    said.
     Habbazu nodded, walked out the door, and might as well have
    disappeared. It was indeed almost as if a demon had wrapped a cloak

    




    BETWEE" -UhC RIVCRS
    
    3T
    
     "It is good," Ereshguna declared after he had read both tablets
    through. As custom required when all was in order, he reached out
    with his left hand to set one tablet in Dimgalabzu's right. That left
    each of the two men holding his copy of the marriage agreement in
    his right hand, Ereshguna held his up above his head. As Dimgalabzu
    did the same Sharur's father said "Mav the omen likewise be Lood."
    
    "so may it be," Dimgalabzu said.
    
    "So may it be," echoed Dimgalabzu's wife and daughter
    
     "So may it be," echoed Ereshguna's wife and sons and daughter.
     Sharur said, "Father, I know I am in your debt. Rest assured, I shall
    repay this debt as soon as may be." Those were not words usually
    found in the marriage ritual, but they seemed to fit here. He had also
    
    learned from experience: he did not swear in Engibil's name that he
    would repay the debt within any particular time, nor with goods
    gained in any particular fashion. He did add, "I hope trading up in
    the Alashkurru Mountains next travel season will be better than it
    
    was in the travel season just past."
    
                    I I
    "It could hardlv be worse, Tupsharru exclaimed.
    
     "I likewise hope it will be better," Ereshguna said smoothly. "I
    hope the Alashkurrut will be as eager to trade with us as they have
    been in the past, and that they will now have every opportunity to
    do so."
     That was as harmless and as careful a way of saying that the great
    gods of the Alashkurrut would henceforth lack the power to prevent
    such trade as any Sharur could have imagined. Dimgalabzu looked
    shrewd. "This would have somewhat to do with the cup that was
    
    briefly in my house, would it not?"
    
     "What cup could you mean?" Ereshguna sounded as innocent and
    as ignorant as if he were hearing for the first time that the world held
    such things as cups.
     "What cup do you mean?" Gulal's question, on the other hand,
    was as pointed as a serpent's fang. Sharur realized Ningal had never
    told her mother about the Alashkurri cup. He realized Dimgalabzu
    had never told his wife about the Alashkurri cup. He realized Dim-
    galabzu would probably have several more sharp questions to answer
    
    after the wedding feast was over.
    
    But that would be after the wedding feast was over. Bersilim took

    




    376
    
    bARRY TURTLcoove
    
    charge now with effortless ease: "Let us feast. Let us be merry. Let us
    celebrate at last the joining of our two houses, the joining so long
    expected and now at last come to pass."
     Gulal still looked unhappy. Gulal, in fact, looked sour as beer of
    the third quality, sour as date wine that had gone over into vinegar.
    But she would do nothing more than look sour now, not unless she
    wanted to make herself hateful before her husband and also hateful
    before the family into which her daughter was marrying. She knew
    better than that. She bided her time. Sharur was glad he was not
    Dimgalabzu. Dimgalabzu did not look so glad that he was Dimgatabzu.
     Betsilim clapped her hands. Slaves began carrying in from the
    kitchen the feast they had prepared. One bore a large copper platter
    of roasted mutton, including such dainties as heart and liver and
    sweetbreads, eyes and tongue and brain. Dimgalabzu admired the
    platter as much as he did the meat piled high upon it. It was a product
    of his smithy, its use a subtle compliment to him from the house of
    Ereshguna.
     The Imhursaggi slave woman came out next, with loaves of bread
    set one beside another on a wickerwork tray. And such loaves they
    were!-not the usual flat, chewy bread made from barley flour, but
    soft and fluffy and baked from costly wheat, bread that would not
    have disgraced the lugal's table. "That does look very fine," Dimgal,
    abzu said, patting his big belly in anticipation. "Very fine indeed. Ah,
    I see honey and sesame oil for dipping. Truly the house of Ereshguna
    stints not."
     Betsilim let out an indignant sniff at that. "The very idea!" she
    said. "If the house of Ereshguna stinted at the wedding of its eldest
    child, what would folk along the Street of Smiths say of us? They
    would say we were niggards. They would say we were misers. They
    would say we cared only for holding what was ours, and not for giving
    of what was ours when the time came to pass. They would say these
    things, and they would say them truly. We do not wish this, no
    indeed."
     "My husband meant no offense," Gulal said, glaring at both Dim-
    galabzu and Betsilim. "My husband meant only praise." She glared
    at Dimgalabzu once more. Sharur got the idea she enjoyed glaring at

    




    - T
    
    I
    
    BETWCEM TbC RIVCRS
    
    377
    
    Dimgalabzu whenever she found the chance. For his own sake, he
    was glad Ningal had a more easygoing disposition.
     But Dimgalabzu would not take Ningal home with him once the
    wedding feast and ceremony were done. Ningal would stay in the
    house of Ereshguna. Sharur glanced over toward his intended bride.
    She was glancing over toward him at the same time. When their eyes
    met, they both looked down to the rammed-earth floor in embar,
    rassment.
     Betsilim, for her part, went from clouds to sun in the space of a
    couple of heartbeats. "I understood you, father of my son's intended,"
    she said, smiling brightly. "Let me assure you, I took no offense."
     Now Sharur glanced toward Ereshguna. The two men, one
    younger, one older, exchanged small smiles. What Betsilim had
    meant was, Let me assure you, I shall waste no chance to put you in your
    place.
     Gulal saw that, too. Her formidable black brows came down and
    together in a frown. But, with Betsilim outwardly so affable, Ningal's
    mother could do nothing but frown. Sharur's mother had won this
    round of the game.
     The slaves of the house of Ereshguna kept bringing in more food:
    roasted locusts and ducks, boiled ducks' eggs, stewed beans and peas
    and lentils and cucumbers, fresh garlic and onions and lettuces of
    several varieties. They brought in jars of beer of the first quality, and
    jars of date wine as well. The feasters ate until they were very full.
    They drank until they approached drunkenness.
     DimgaIabzu patted his capacious belly once more. He looked from
    Ningal to Sharur. "Having eaten so much, will you be able to do
    your bride justice on the first night?" he asked with a leer and a
    chuckle.
     Tupsharru laughed at that, and poked Sharur in the ribs with his
    elbow. Sharur said, "Father of my intended, you may rely on it."
    Dimgatabzu was not a young man; perhaps he would have trouble
    doing a woman justice after such a feast. If so, Sharur felt sorry for
    him. He had no doubt of his own capacity-and his chance to prove
    it would not be long delayed.
     Ningal modestly cast her eyes down to the ground once more.
    
    i

    




    378
    
    b3,RRY TURT]LcOovc-
    
    Having known her since childhood, Sharur also knew she had a mind
    of her own and, under the right circumstances or anything even close
    to the right circumstances, was not in the least bit shy about saying
    exactly what she thought and behaving exactly as she found best.
    These were not the right circumstances, nor anything even close to
    the right circumstances. Sharur's own manners here were far more
    formal than they would have been at any other time, too.
     Dimgalabzu drank cup after cup of beer. He drank cup after cup of
    date wine. Smiling, he said to Sharur, "In the morning, I will wish
    my head would fall off, so I would not have to feel it thumping like
    a drum. But that will be in the morning. This is now. Now I feel very
    good indeed."
     He felt good enough to pay very close attention to the way the
    Imhursaggi slave woman walked when she went back to the kitchen
    to bring the feasters more bread. He paid close enough attention to
    make Gulal speak sharply to him, though she did so in a low, polite
    tone of voice. Even after that, he kept watching the slave woman.
    After a bit, Tupsharru went over to him and murmured something
    into his ear.
     "Ah? Is it so?" Dimgalabzu said, looking as if he had bitten into a
    plum and found an unexpected rotten spot. "What a pity, what a
    pity."
     Nanadirat patted Sharur on the knee. "What did Tupsharru tell
    him? Why does he look so disappointed?"
     Sharur looked at his younger sister. Looking at her, he realized she
    was not so young as that. One day before too long, someone's father
    would be dickering with Ereshguna over bride-price for her. To
    Sharur who automatically thought of her as an annoying brat, that
    realization came as no small shock. Because of it he answprpil bi-r
    
    serious ly rather than with an evasion or a joke: "You know what men
    
     "Of course I do." Nanadirat tossed her head. "We wouldn't be
    having this wedding feast if men and women didn't do that when
    
      That s right, we wouldn't," Sharur agreed. "What I think Tup,
    sharru was telling Dimgalabzu is that the Imhursaggi slave woman

    




    136TWEC-M TbC RIVERS
    
    379
    
    takes no pleasure in lying with a man, and gives a man who lies with
    her as little pleasure as she can."
     "Oh." Nanadirat thought about that. Sharur waited for her to ask
    how Tupsharru. would know, or, for that matter, how Sharur could
    make such a good guess about what Tupsharru had said to Dimgal,
    abzu. She did neither. She simply nodded. She might be his younger
    sister, but she was a woman, and she knew what women knew.
     After the fine wheat bread was all eaten, the Imhursaggi slave
    woman came out yet again, this time with a bowl of apple slices
    candied in honey. With great ceremony, Betsilim passed a slice to
    each of the feasters. "May the union between our two houses prove
    as sweet as this candied fruit," she said.
     4iso may it be," everyone echoed. Gulal added, "Engibil grant that
    it be so. The gods grant that it be so."
     No one corrected her. No one disagreed with her, not out loud.
    Sharur hoped the gods would bless the marriage, too. If, however,
    the gods remained silent on the matter, he intended to go on with
    his life as best he could anyhow.
     Everyone looked around, as if searching for something, anything,
    else that wanted doing before the marriage ceremony should be com,
    pleted. No one said anything. Sharur presumed that meant no one
    found anything. Ereshguna glanced over to him and nodded, ever so
    slightly.
     Sharur got to his feet. Ningal got to her feet. They stood side by
    side before their families. Sharur did his best to keep his voice steady
    and firm, as if he were describing the virtues of a bronze axhead to
    an Alashkurri wanax. Despite his doing his best, his words came out
    in a Soft, nervous squeak: 1, Sharur the son of Ereshguna, stand here
    with Ningal the daughter of DimgaIabzu in the presence of witnesses
    who will see and remember that we so stand."
     "You do. The two of you do." Ereshguna and Betsilim, Dimga1abzu
    and Gulal, Tupsharru. and Nanadirat all spoke together.
     Sharur took the lengths of veiling that hung at either side of Nin-
    gal's head and brought them together in front of her face. "She is my
    wife," he said, and then made himself say it again, for no one, very
    likely including Ningal, could have heard him the first time.
    
    11

    




    "She is your wife," the members of the two families agreed a
    
     From behind the veil, Ningal said, "He is my husband." That wa
    not part of the marriage ritual, and no one echoed it. Nevertheless
    
     Ereshguna rose then, a wide smile on his face. "And now, my son,
    my daughter-in-law, come with me, that you may consummate the
    wedding you have celebrated. Not only did Sharur and Ningal fol,
    low him, so did their families and even the slaves of the house of
    Ereshguna, all calling advice so ribald, Sharur's ears burned.
     The slaves had cleared jars and pots and baskets from what was
    normally a storeroom. They had set stools in all the comers of the
    room, a lamp burning brightly on each one. In the center of the floor
    lay a sleeping mat. On the sleeping mat lay a square of fine linen, to
    serve as proof of the ending of Ningal's days as a maiden. Everyone
    pointed to the square of cloth and shouted more bawdy advice.
     Sharur closed the door. That only meant everyone outside shouted
    louder than ever. He saw someone had thoughtfully put a bar and
    brackets for it on the inside of the door. Ignoring the racket in the
    hallway, he set the bar in the brackets. Behind the filmy veil, Ningal
    
    He turned to her andDarted the veil he had closed. "You are m
    
     Her answering smile was nervous and eager at the same time
    "There is somethine we must do before that is truIv so," she mur
    
                 I I
     "And so we shall, he said. He freed the veiling from her hair and
    let it fall to the ground. That done, he pulled her shift up over he
    head. The lami)s shed t)lentv of liaht to let him admire her for a
    
    moment before he stent)ed out of his own kilt.
    
     He stepped forward and took her in his arms. Her body molded
    itself to his. His mouth came down on hers. His right hand closed
    on her left breast, his left on her riaht buttock. The kiss went on and
    
     Sharur's grandfather's ghost shouted in his ear: "By the gods, boy
    do vou call that a kiss? And squeeze her there, don't just pat her.

    




    13ETAVC-eM TDC RIVERS
    
    381
    
    Anyone would think you were a virgin yourself, the way you're going
    at it. What you have to do is-"
     He couldn't even chase the ghost out beyond the barred door. He
    had to try to pretend it was not there and make the best of things.
    And he did.

    





    




    i

    





    




    (continued from front flap)
    
        . 4 divinities ... and he's going to
        11 the inventiveness he can muster.
         t
          d
          h
           iv
           e
            in,'
             ool
              utrageous, and yet lucidly
         etw e)
  tween the Rivers is a terrific
                a tale of the power oji- rationality that will leave readers
         out for more.
    
                amy
                  W"W-I%OW
    TL&PfLr~l Y
    
    HARRY TURTLEDOVE lives in Los Angeles.
    
        cket art by Garw-Ri,,4-' 11
    acket design hv Car2j.Rosso Design
     m7w,-,       -
    
    A TOR@ HARDCOVER
    
    Wi b-T              " ' SG
         istr uted in the United ates by
    ,,#t. Martin's Press
                                 75 Fifth Avenue
                               few York. NY 100 10
    
    )istributed in Canada by
    B. Fenn and Company, Ltd.
    
    the USA

    




    No modei
     the fantac*-,           --y Turtledove.
    
    3 2300 00027542 6
    
    A,ne critics agree:
    
    ~al history with
    
    "The work of one of alternate history's authentic mod
    ern masters .... Totally fascinating, a display of all of
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    and dry wit." -Booklist on Worldwar: In the Balance
    
    "Harry Turtledove is probably the best practitioner of the
                              I
    classic alternate-history story since L. Sprague de Camp
    domesticated it for American SF over a half-century ago,
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    research and thorough knowledge of the period, an
    understated but firm way with storytelling, and a sense
    of the exotic appeal of the past combined with an appre-
    ciation of the ordinariness of ordinary life." -Locus
    
    "Turtledove has a sure hand on all historical implica-
    tions.11                         -Gahan Wilson
    
    "A fine adventure story, wonderfully plotted and paced,
    replete with richly imagined characters, unusual set-
    tings, unexpected turns. it should appeal strongly to
    readers who in recent years have embraced such novels
    as Caleb Carr's The Alienist and Peter Hoeg's Smilla's
    Sense of SHOW."
               -The Los Angeles Times on The Tivo Georges,
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    ISBN 0-312-86202-
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    9 a 3