    




    "The master
    
    of alternative S 11
    
                                            -Publishers Weekly
    Tilgri IRF LEDOVE
                                  A tale of the
                             morning of human history
    
    #A

    




    0-312-86202-4
    
       $24.95
    ($34.95 CAN)
    
    Harr "ne             the
    y T
    names A er e fiction triday- AvOw-w-1%
    of the bestsellers The
              nc
    
    Worldwar. in the Balance; and The 7ho'
    Georges (with Richard Dreyfuss), he
    brings together an expert's historical
    knowledge and a master SF story-
    teller's wide-rangin2 imagination.
    
      Now Turtledove turns hi
    major fantasy creation, a world at the
    sun-drenched beginning of human his
    tory. Young Sharur is the scl_
    merchant family in the city of
    loyal-he thinks-to his city's god,'
    Engibil, and to that god's human
    deputies. But like his fellows in Gibil,
    Sharur is less interested in gods than in
    progress in invention and trade. Then,
    on a routine trading expedition, he
    learns that the gods of the other cities,
    resentful of Engibil's relaxed attitude
    toward his people, are uniting to punish
    Gibil and squelch the growing power of
    human creativity, epitomized by the
    city-state's easygoing ways. Now onl
    Sharur's wits can save the city from the
                                 y

    




    I
    
    I      IWI-il
    
    73ETWCCM
    
          TOE
      RIVCRS

    





    




    Agent of Byzantium
    The Case of the Toxic Spell Dump
    Departures
    A Different Flesh
    Earthgrip
    Fox and Empire
    The Guns of the South
    How Few Remain
    Kaleidoscope
    King of the North
    Noninterference
    Prince of the North
    The Pugnacious Peacemaker
    Thessalonica
    Werenight
    A World of Difference
    
    The Worldwar Tetralogy
    Worldwar: In the Balance
    Worldwar: Tilting the Balance
    Worldwar: Upsetting the Balance
    Worldwar: Striking the Balance
    
    The Videssos Cycle
    The Misplaced Legion
    An Emperor for the Legion
    The Legion of Videssos
    Swords of the Legion
    
    Other Books by Harry Turtledove
    
    The Time of Troubles
    The Stolen Throne
    Hammer and Anvil
    The Thousand Cities
    
    The Tale of Krispos
    Krispos Rising
    Krispos of Videssos
    Krispos the Emperor
    
    Collaborations
 Bloodfeuds (with S. M. Stirling, Susan
     Shwartz, and Judith Tarr)
 Blood Vengeance (with S. M. Stirling,
     Susan Shwartz, and Judith Tarr)
 The Two Georges (with Richard Drey-
     fuss)
    
    Nonfiction
 The Chronicle of Theophanes: An
     English Translation of anni mundi
     6095-6305 (A.D. 602-813)

    





       


    OXRRV TURTLCOOVE
    
    BETAVCOM
    
    RIVeRs
                MCAV   Rk

    




    This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this
    novel are either fictitious or are used fictitiously.
    
    BETWEEN THE RIVERS
    
    Copyright (0 1998 by Harry Turtledove
    
    All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions
    thereof, in any form.
    
    This book is printed on acid-ftee paper.
    
    A Tor Book
    Published by Tom Doherty Associates, Inc.
    175 Fifth Avenue
    New York, NY 10010
    
    Tor Books on the World Wide Web:
    http://www.tor.com
    
    Torg is a registered trademark of Tom Doherty Associates, Inc.
    
    Design by Basha Durand
    
          Library of Congress Cataloging-in,Publication Data
    
    Turtledove, Harry.
    Between the rivers / Harry Turtledove.-Ist ed.
        P. cm.
       "A Tom Doherty Associates book."
       ISBN 0,312-86202-4
       1. Title.
     PS3570.U76B48 1998
     813'.54-dc2l
    
    First Edition: March 1998
    
    Printed in the United States of America
    
    0 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 21
    
                                     97-29844
                                       CIP
                                     
    
    




    BCTWCCI~-]
    
                                       The
                                      RIVERS
                                     
    
    





    




    Sharur was walking back toward his family's shop and home on the
    Street of Smiths when a fever demon that had been basking on a
    broken mud brick soaking up heat sprang at him, its batlike wings
    
    glistening in the sun. He leaped back so it could not breathe sickness
    into his mouth and pulled out an amulet marked with the eves of
    
    Engibil, patron god of the city of Gibil.
    
     "Begone, foul thing! " he exclaimed, and made the left-hand gesture
    every child in the land of Kudurru learned by the age of three-every
    child, at any rate, that lived to the age of three. He thrust out the am-
    ulet as if it were a spear. "Greater powers than you protect me."
     Screeching in dismay, the nasty little demon fled. Shatur strode
    on, his back straight now with pride. He returned the amulet to its
    proper loop on his belt. The belt, which also bore a couple of other
    amulets, a bronze dagger, and a stylus, held up a knee-length linen
    kilt that was all he wore between stout leather sandals and a straw
    hat shaped like a short, broad cone. Slaves-and some freemen of a
    class poorer than Sharur's-dispensed with shoes and sometimes with
    kilt as well. No one went without a hat, not in the land between the
    
    Yarmuk and the Divala.
    
     The streets of Gibil were narrow and winding. Sharur's sandals
    scuffed up dust and squelched in muck. A farmer coming at him
    leading a donkey with baskets of beans tied to its back made him
    
    squeeze up against the front wall of one of the two-story mud-brick
    homes lining both sides of the street: a prosperous home, because
    that ftont wall was whitewashed. The shiny white coating did not
    make the sun-baked mud any less rough on the bare skin of his back.
    Farmer and donkey plodded on, equally oblivious to having annoyed
    
    him.

    




    10
    
    'ba-RRY TURTLebove
    
     His grandfather's ghost spoke in his ear: "You should follow that
    fellow and break a board on his head for the bother he caused you."
     "It's all right, father to my father. He's on the way to the market
    square; he had to get by me," Sharur answered resignedly. His grand-
    father had been quarrelsome while he was alive, and was even more
    bad-tempered now that no one could break a board over his head.
     "If only that fellow had known me in the flesh, I'd have hit him
    myself," the ghost grumbled. "He deserved it."
     "It's all right, father to my father," Sharur repeated, and kept walk-
    ing.
     His grandfather's ghost sniffed. "All right, he says. It's not all right,
    not even close. Young people these days are soft-soft, I tell you."
     "Yes, father to my father," Sharur said. The ghost, he knew, would
    keep on haranguing him and trying to meddle in his affairs as long
    as he lived. He consoled himself by remembering that it would have
    no power over his children, whenever they might be born, for they
    would not have known his grandfather alive. And when I'm a ghost
    myself, he thought, I hope I don't plague the people who recall me.
     He turned a last comer and stepped onto the Street of Smiths. It
    was probably the noisiest street in all Gibil, but he found the racket
    familiar, even restful, having lived with it all his life. Smiths banged
    and tapped and hammered and rasped and filed. Fires crackled. Mol-
    ten metal hissed as it was poured into molds of wet sand.
     Behind the racket, power hovered. Smithery was a new thing in
    the land of Kudurru, and thus in the whole world, however big the
    world might be. In the days of Sharur's grandfather's grandfather, no
    one had known how to free copper and tin from their ores, much less
    how to mix them to make a metal stronger than either. These days,
    smiths stood on an equal footing with carpenters and bakers and
    potters and those who followed the other old, established trades.
     But smiths were different. The other trades all had their old, es-
    tablished tutelary gods, from Shruppinak who helped carpenters
    pound pegs straight to Lisin who got spots out of laundry. Smithery,
    though, smithery was too new for its great power to have coalesced
    into deities or even demons. Maybe it would, in time. Maybe, too,
    the smiths would keep the power in their own merely human hands.

    




    -r C 121LVERS
    
    11
    
     Whenever that thought crossed Sharur's mind, it frightened him.
    If Engibil saw it there, or, worse, if one of the greater deities-sun
    god, storm or river goddesses; the ugly, sexless demon that squatted
    underground and caused earthquakes with its quiverings; many
    more-did so, what would they do with the smiths, to the smiths,
    for seeking to gain power thus? Sharur neither knew nor wanted to
    
    find out.
    
    At the same time, though, knowing himself to be a worm in the
    
    eyes of the gods, he longed to be a strong worm. His eyes traveled
    down the Street of Smiths to the lugal's palace at the end of it, the
    only building in the city that came close to Engibil's temple in size
    and grandeur. Kimash the lugal gave Engibil rich presents, of course,
    but he ruled Gibil in his own right as had his father and grandfather
    
    before him.
    
     One or two other cities in the land of Kudurru had lords who were
    but men. The rest were about evenly divided between towns where
    ensis-high priests-transmitted the local god's will to the people
    and those where the gods ruled directly. Sharur was glad he did not
    live in one of those towns. Evervone who did struck him as a step
    
    slow.
    
     Thinking of power, he almost walked right past Ningal without
    seeing her "Well " she called as he went bv. "Don't sav hello."
    
    "Hello," he said, and felt very foolish.
    
     Ningal set down the basket of eggs she was carrying back to her
    father's smithy: had she kept holding it, she couldn't have set both
    hands on her hips to look properly annoyed. "Sometimes," she said,
    "I think vou live too much of vour life inside vour head instead of in
    
    the world out here."
    
     "Not when I look at you," Sharur said. Ningal's smile said he'd
    gone partway toward redeeming himself. Like other well-to-do
    women of Gibil, she wore a linen tunic that covered her from the
    neck almost to the knee, but it clung to her in the heat and did little
    to hide her shapely figure. Her eyes sparkled; all her teeth were white;
    her hair fell to her shoulders in midnight curls. Sharur went on,
    "With the profit I make from mv next trip to the mountains, I'll have
    
    enough to pay bride-price to your father."
    
    11

    




    12
    
    bARRY TURTLeibove
    
     "How do you know I'll want you to, when you don't even noticc
    I'm here?" she asked with a toss of her head that sent those curt,
    flying.
     Sharur felt his cheeks heat, though he doubted Ningal could see
    him blush. Like her, like everyone in the land between the rivers, he
    was swarthy, with dark hair and eyes. In Laravanglal, the distant
    southeastern land whence tin came, the people were the color of
    dark bread, and men grew beards scanty rather than luxuriant. A few
    of the mountaineers of Alashkurru had eyes of green or even gray,
    and hair that might be brown or even, rarely, the color of copper
    instead of black. More, though, looked like Sharur and his country-
    men.
     He said, "Well, if you don't, you can always tell your father."
     "Do you think he would listen to me? I don't. He's set on marrying
    me to you, to join our houses together." Ningal's smile showed a
    dimple in her cheek. "And so I guess I won't bother telling him that."
     "Fair enough." Sharur tried hard not to show how relieved he was.
    He very much wanted the marriage to go forward. As in every other
    marriage in Gibil, the partners would join at their families' instance,
    not their own. But Ningal and he had known each other since they
    were toddlers playing in the dust of the Street of Smiths. They'd
    always got on well, even as children. And ever since he'd thought of
    marrying anyone, hers was the face he saw in his mind.
     "'Fair enough?" she mimicked, exasperated at him again. "Is that
    the best you can do?"
     He knew she wished he were more demonstrative. He took off his
    hat, then stooped, picked up a handful of dust, and let it fall down
    into his hair, a gesture of mourning and contrition. "0 gracious lady,
    please forgive your slave," he wailed, his voice cracking convincingly.
     Ningal made as if to throw an egg at him. Laughing, she said, "I
    may-eventually." She carried the basket into her father's smithery.
    Sharur watched her hips work under the clinging linen.
     Once she was out of sight, he went on to his own house. His father,
    Ereshguna, was counting leather sacks of ore. "Seventy-two, seventy-
    three ... Oh, hello, son." He got to his feet and bowed to Sharur.
    The two of them looked much alike, though his face was more

    




    BeTweem The RIVERS
    
    strongly carved by the years and gray flecked his hair and elaborately
    curled beard.
     Sharur's younger brother, Tupsharru, also bowed. He held a tablet
    of damp clay in his left hand, a stylus in his right. "Do you want to
    finish this lot now, Father, or shall we set it aside for a while?"
     "It will keep," Ereshguna answered. "That tablet's not going to dry
    up if you set it on the table. You'll still be able to write on it after
    we all have a cup of beer." The jar of beer and several earthenware
    cups sat on a small table made of golden, fine-grained wood brought
    down from the mountains of Alashkurru. Only palms and poplars
    grew in Kudurru. Their lumber, while cheap, was neither lovely nor
    particularly strong.
     Ereshguna poured three cups full. He and his sons murmured
    thanks to Ikribu, god of barley, and lkribabu, goddess of brewing,
    before they drank. The sour beer washed some of the dust from
    Sharur's mouth. "That's good," he said, and praised the god and god-
    dess again.
     "Here, give me a cup, too, his grandfather's ghost said.
     "Yes, my father." Ereshguna held the jar over an empty cup and
    tilted it, not far enough to let more than a couple of drops of actual
    beer come out. Symbolically, though, it was full. Ghosts dwelt more
    in the symbolic world than the material one in any case. The efforts
    of Sharur's grandfather's ghost to drink the actual beer made the cup
    quiver on the table, but that was all.
     "It is good beer," the ghost said, judging by the essence, "but I
    remember a jar I drank when I was a young man. It-"
     Ereshguna rolled his eyes. He'd heard that story more often than
    Sharur and Tupsharru put together. It had been boring when his
    father was alive. It was deadly dull now. At last, the ghost finished
    and fell silent.
     Trying not to show how relieved he was, Ereshguna turned to
    Sharur and asked, "What do the harness makers say?"
     "They will have the new straps ready when we need them, at the
    price on which we already agreed. I can lead the donkey train to
    Alashkurru when the goddess Nusku carries the boat of the moon a
    couple of days past full, as we had planned."

    




    14
    
    b.XR'Ry TURTLE!Oove
    
     "Good. That's good," Ereshguna said. "We don't want to run I
    on ore." He and his family brought more copper and tin into Gi
    than anyone else, along with whatever other interesting things th
    found along the way. When Sharur laughed and pointed to the sac
    he'd been inventorying with Tupsharru, he shook his head. "Th
    will go soon enough, my son. Almost all of them are already spok
    for. We need more. We always need more."
     He pointed toward the clay tablet and stylus Tupsharru had p
    down. His younger son picked them up again and said, "The last o
    you counted was number seventy-three."
     "Yes, that's right. Seventy-three. It was this one right here. Th
    Sharur came in." Ereshguna pointed to the next sack and resum
    his count: "Seventy-four, seventy-five. . ." Tupsharru. made fre
    tally marks in the damp clay.
     Sharur listened to the reckoning with half an ear. Inventory w
    necessary, but not exciting. He was about to go upstairs when a c
    tomer came in and gave him something to do. Bowing, he said, 11H
    may I serve you, honored Irmitti?"
     Irmitti was a plump man who looked as if his stomach pained hi
    "I've come to give you another payment on those dozen fancy la
    and the perfumed oil that go ' es with them you sold me," he said,
    tossed Sharur a gold ring. "It should be the last."
     Sharur caught it out of the air, hefted it, bit it, and nodded. "It
    good gold." He walked over to a small balance and set it in one pa
    In the other, he set weights that he took from a cedarwood box. '
    weighs one keshlu, and a quarter part, and a half of a quarter pa
    Let me examine your contract, honored Irmitti. If it is too much)
    shall repay to you whatever the excess weight may be."
     He rummaged through a basket of clay tablets till he found t
    one he needed. Syllable by syllable, he sounded out the words writt
    there. The polite smile faded from his face, to be replaced by a poli
    frown.
     1 am sorry, honored Irmitti, but the amount you still ow~d w
    three keshlut of gold. The writing is very clear. That means you ha
    left to pay"-he worked out the answer on his fingers-"one keshlu
    weight of gold, and a half part, and a half of a quarter part. When
    have it, I will give you the tablet, and you may break it."

    




    13ETWEEN TbC RIVERS
    
    is
    
     "I wilt give you the rest of the gold when I have it," Irmitti said.
    "One keshlu, and a half part, and a half of a quarter part." He re-
    peated the amount several times so he would remember it. Having
    done that, he went on, "Truly I thought I owed you only this smaller
    amount.))
     "Memories can slip," said Sharux, who thought Irmitti was prob-
    ably telling the truth. He added, "Mine often does," which was not
    true but was calculated to console the customer. He hefted the clay
    tablet. "The writing here, though, is the same as it always was. It
    does not forget. It cannot forget."
     As he spoke, he wondered whether writing might not prove an
    even greater creator of power than smithery. Prayers, invocations,
    spells ... all centered on words. And writing pinned them down. It
    made them stay as they had always been. And it let a man command
    more of them than he could hope to do with even the capacious and
    accurate memory Sharur enjoyed. If that wasn't the raw stuff of
    power, what was?
    1~., Irmitti's thoughts had run along different lines. A discontented
    
    his face, he said, "My great-grandmother's ghost tells me
    that, in her time and the time of her father, only a few priests
    scratched marks on clay. A man's unaided memory was enough to
    take him through his whole life, and a tablet did not strike like a
    snake and make him out to be a liar."
     "Honored Irmitti, I do not take you for a liar, only for a man who
    forgot," Sharur said. "We have more things to remember than they
    did in your great-grandmother's time."
     "Life was simpler then," Irmitti said. "Life was better then, I think.
    I mean no offense to you and your family, but are we better for having
    so much bronze in the city? The smiths make it into knives and
    swords, and we kill each other with them. A wood sickle edged with
    polished stone was good enough for my great-grandfather. Why
    would anyone need a bronze tool now, when you metal merchants
    have to travel to the ends of the world to find the stuff the smiths
    use to make it?"
     "You may be right," Sharur said with a small bow. Never insulting
    a customer was a merchant's first rule. But he did not believe what
    he was saying, not for a moment. Where new things seemed to

    




    16
    
    J?ARIZY TURTI-C-00VE
    
    frighten Irmitti, they excited him. He could hardly hold still, he
    much wanted to point out all the interesting, useful, beautiful thin
    that were easy to accomplish with metal but slow and difficult if n
    impossible with stone.
     After grumbling a little longer, Irmitti left. Ereshguna looked i
    from his counting and said, "You did well there, son. The worst sc
    of fool is a man who does not know he is a fool."
     "Irmitti could be worse, Sharur said. "Some forget they owe
    anything, not how much they owe us. Then the lugal's men have
    remind them."
     "Oh, yes, I know that, and you are right," Ereshguna said. "Bi
    when he talks about sickles edged with stone, from where does I
    think the stone came? It did not come from the land of Kudurr
    Here between the rivers we have water and mud and the things th~
    grow from them, not much else. Merchants brought the stone her,
    as we bring in ores today. But he does not want to think of that, an
    so he does not."
     "If he wishes for things to be as they were in the time of his grea
    grandmother.. ." Tupsharru let that hang, for what he meant w-,
    unquestionably something like, He would wish Engibil ruled the city i
    his own right once more. Saying such things aloud was dangerous. Th
    god might be listening. If he was, he might choose to punish th
    speaker in any number of unpleasant ways. Or he might even decid
    to overthrow the line of lugals and resume his direct rule. That w2
    the last thing Sharur and his family wanted; they had gained to
    much from the changes over the past couple of generations.
     Engibil might also be listening to Tupsharru's thoughts. If the gol
    chose to do so, he could go through a man's mind as Sharur had gon
    through the basket of tablets looking for what he wanted. Engibi
    had no particular reason to be listening to Tupsharru's thoughts, bu
    that did not mean he wasn't.
     Sharur took from his belt the amulet with which he'd routed th
    fever demon. He covered Engibil's eyes with his own two thumbs fo
    a moment, symbolically masking from the god what was passing it
    this house. His father and brother imitated the gesture. Each of then
    looked nervous. They did not know for certain whether the charr

    




    BeTAVCeN TI)C RIVCRS
    
    17
    
    bound the god, or merely distracted him, or in fact did nothing to
    restrain him. They did not want to find out.
     Ereshguna said, "Sometimes I feel like an ant in a line of ants
    crawling up a wall inside a house. We think we are doing something
    fine and grand. But one day the kitchen slave will notice us crawling
    there and smash us with her hand or sweep us away with a broom."
     "We are ants who know copper and tin," Sharur said. As his
    brother had before, he spoke with great care. One of the things for
    which metal was better than stone was making weapons. But he had
    not spoken of fighting the gods, nor even come close. "We are ants
    who write down the way to the dates in the larder. Even if the kitchen
    slave smashes us, our brothers will know where they are."
     "We are still ants," Ereshguna said. "We would do well to remem-
    ber it."
    
    For the late meal, Sharux, a hungry ant, ate locusts. The cook, a slave
    woman captured from the nearby city of Imhursag, had roasted them
    with coriander and garlic and now served them up on wooden skew-
    ers along with thin sheets of barley bread, onions, melons, and dates
    preserved in sesame oil.
     Sharur's mother, Betsilim, was not in a good mood as the kitchen
    slave brought in another tray loaded with sliced onions and melons
    and set it on a stool. "We should have had beans, too," she grumbled.
    "I told her three different times to put them in the pot, but she
    forgot."
     "I'll whip her, if you like," Ereshguna said. "Will that make her
    remember?"
     "If I thought it would, I would tell you to do it," Betsilim answered.
    "But I do not think she is lazy. I think she is stupid."
     "Remember, Mother, she is without the voice of her god in her
    ear, too," Sharur said. "Enimhursag rules his city himself. He has no
    lugal, he has no ensi. He watches over all his people all the time."
     "He can't do that in Gibil! " said Nanadirat, Sharur's younger sister.
     "No, he can't, and he never will," Sharur said. Now, instead of
    trying to conceal his thoughts from Engibil, he wanted the god to

    




    is
    
    1).xRRy -ruRTLeOove
    
    know he was glad Engibil still protected Gibil even if he no longe
    directly ruled it. Gibil and Imhursag were neighbors and rivals i
    Kudurru. Engibil and Enimhursag were also rivals. Each god wante
    more land and more worshipers. Over the years, Engibil had suc
    ceeded at Enimhursag's expense. Sharur knew how jealous the othe
    town's god had to be, and how angry.
     Ereshguna said, "Imhursag would be more dangerous to us if th
    town god let his people be freer. They would soon think of ways t
    fill our canals with sand."
     "Yes, but Enimhursag fears they would think of ways to fill hi
    canal with sand, too," Tupsharru said.
     Giving his brother a reproachful look, Sharur took out his amule
    again and covered Engibil's eyes. Ereshguna did the same. A momen
    later, so did Tupsharru himself. He put on a shamefaced expression
    If Enimhursag's people might trouble him on being given more free
    dom, what of Engibil's people, who had gained more? Would the
    now trouble their god as a result? Those were not the sort of thought
    any man who valued such freedom as he possessed wanted the cit
    god having.
     "Let us drink some wine," Betsilim said hastily, and clapped he
    hands. "Slave, bring us the wi ' ne and cups and a strainer."
     The kitchen slave-she had no name, not in Gibil; it was le
    behind in Imhursag-carried in the jar and the cups and the bronz
    strainer. "Ha!" Tupsharru said, pointing to it. "I'd like to see Irmitt
    make a strainer out of stone."
     "What did they used to be before they were made of metal?" Er
    eshguna asked the air. No family ghosts answered. They were all o
    doing something else. That gave supper an unusual feeling of privacy
     Timidly, the slave said, "In Imhursag, the strainers are made o
    clay and baked like pots and dishes."
     "Ah. Well, there you are," Ereshguna said. The slave poured the
    thick fermented juice of dates through the strainer into the cups
    Twice she had to rinse the strainer in a bowl of water to clear' the
    sticky dregs from it.
     Like anyone well enough off not to have to make do with water,
    Sharur drank beer with almost every meal. Date wine was for more
    special occasions. After pouring out a small libation to Putishu god

    




    13ETWCCM T-he RJLVCRS
    
    19
    
    of dates and to lkribabu's cousin Aglibabu, who made the dates into
    wine, Sharur simed. The wine was verv sweet and stronL, and made
    
    his heart merrv.
    
    He and his family drank the jar dry. The kitchen slave cleared
    
    away the bowls and pots in which supper had been served. As she
    carried them out of the dining room, she hummed a little hymn to
    Enimhursag. Sharur did not think she even knew she was doing it;
    no doubt she had been doing it all her life. It would not help her,
    not in this city where the people worshiped Engibil. Hum, speak,
    
    scream: her god would not hear her prayer.
    
    "When will you be leading the trade caravan to the mountains?"
    
    Nanadirat asked Sharur.
    
     "A few more days," he answered. "I was seeing about donkeys
    today, before I came home and saw Irmitti. Why? Do you want me
    to bring you back something special?"
     "A ring or a bracelet with the blue stones they have there," his
    sister said at once. "They're pretty. I like them."
     "I'll see what I can do," Sharur told her. "They know we like those
    stones, and they want a lot for them."
     Betsilim said, "I'm going up on the roof
     "I'll come with you," Ereshguna said. Nanadirat nodded and got
    to her feet, too. After supper, most families in Gibil, as in the other
    cities between the Yarmuk and the Diyala, went onto their roofs to
    escape the heat that lingered indoors. Most of them slept up there,
    too. Sharur's blanket was there waiting for him. He would lie on it,
    not under it.
     He and Tupsharru rose at about the same time. Sharur was about
    to follow his parents and sister when Tupsharru touched him on the
    arm. Sharur stopped and lifted one eyebrow, a gesture he shared with
    is father. Tunsharru asked, "Were vou LyoinLy to have the kitchen
    
    slave toniLht?"
    
    "Ah." As the older brother Sharur could take her ahead of Tun,
    
    just as Ereshguna, if he felt like putting up with Betsilim's
    
    complaints, could take her ahead of him. "No-go ahead if you wan
    to," Sharur said. "I've taken her once or twice, but I don't think she'
    
                               ) I
    "I don't think she's anything special, either, Tupsharru. said
    
    '(b

    




    20
    
    baRRy TuRTLeOovE!
    
    she's here and I feel like it, and this way I don't have to go out an,
    find a harlot and pay her something. So if you're not going to, I will.
     With purposeful stride, he headed off toward the kitchen. Sharu
    went up the stairs and onto the roof. Twilight was fading. As h
    watched, more and more stars appeared in the darkening bowl of th
    sky. He murmured prayers of greeting to the tiny gods who peere,
    out through them. Most of those gods were content to stay in on,
    place in the sky day after day, year after year, accepting the absent
    minded reverence people gave them.
     A handful, more enterprising, moved through the heavens, som,
    quickly, some more slowly. They were tricksters, and had to be pro
    pitiated. Sharur, who was going to move over the land, reminde(
    himself to offer to them before he set out.
     Ereshguna had carried a lamp up with him, and used it to light,
    couple of torches. More torches and lamps and thin, guttering taper
    burned on other roofs in Gibil, making an earthly field of stars a~
    counterpoint to that up in the heavens. Somewhere not far away, -,
    man was playing a harp and singing a song in praise of Engibil. Sharul
    nodded. The god, who was vain, would like that.
     Catching himself in a yawn, Sharur shook out his blanket to mak(
    sure he would not be sharing it with any spiders or scorpions. Hc
    took off his sandals, shifted his kilt so he could piss in the old pot
    the family kept up there for that purpose, and lay down.
     He was just about asleep when Tupsharru came up onto the roof.
    His brother whistled a happy tune. As Sharur had done, he shook
    out his blanket, eased himself, and lay down, a man happy with the
    world and with his place in it.
     Down below, in her sweltering little cubicle, the kitchen slave,
    like the rest of the slaves Ereshguna owned, would also be going to
    sleep. What she thought, what she felt, never entered Sharur's mind
    as he began to snore.
    
    A line of donkeys, each but the leader roped to the one in front of
    it, stood braying in the Street of Smiths. Sharur went methodically
    down the line, checking the packs and jars tied to the animals'backs
    against the list written on two clay tablets he held in his hand.

    




    7A C-- T AV 4Z C- 'k] -Ir     C--12 1 A 7 C-- 12 Q
    
     "Linen cloth dyed red, four bolts," he muttered to himself He
    counted the bolts. "One, two, three, four ... very good." He used a
    stylus to draw a little star by the item on the list. The clay was dry
    but not baked, so he could incise the mark if he bore down a little.
    "Wool cloth dyed blue with woad, seven bolts." He counted, then
    
    frowned. "Harharu! I see oniv five bolts here."
    
    If a donkeymaster was a good one, he knew where everything in
    
    the caravan was stored. Harharu, a stocky, middle-aged man, was the
    best donkeymaster in Gibil; Ereshguna would have settled for no one
    less. He said, "You're talking about the wool dyed blue, master mer-
    chant's son? The other two bolts are on this beast three farther back."
     And so they were. "I thank you, Harharu," Sharur said, bowing.
    He set the star beside the item. On he went, making sure he was in
    fact taking all the date wine, all the fine pots, all the little flasks of
    the rock-oil that seeped out of the ground near Gibil, all the medi,
    cines and perfumes, all the knives and swords and axes and spear-
    
    he.Ads. md ~dl the other thimys on his list.
    
    swords."
    
    "Always strikes me funny, taking metal things up to the mountains
    
    when that's where we get our copper from," Harharu remarked.
     "The Alashkurrut have plenty of copper," Sharur said, "but they
    have no tin. Our bronze is harder and tougher than any metal they
    can make for themselves, so they are happy to get it. They give five
    times the weight of conner or fifteen times the weight of ore for good
    
     Harharu grunted. "And sometimes, when they feel like it, they use
    their good swords to take whatever a caravan brings, and they give
    
    nothing for it but death or wounds."
    
     "We are not going by ourselves, you and P' Sitting in the shade
    of a wall, talking or dozing while they waited for the caravan to get
    moving, were a dozen stalwart young men who had proved them-
    selves with spear and sword and bow in the latest war with Imhursag.
    Along with trade goods for the men of the mountains of Alashkurru
    
    the donkeys carried their weapons, their shields of wickerwork and
    leather, and their linen helmets with bronze plates sewn in. When
    the caravan left the land of Kudurru, the guards would carry their
    
    gear themselves.
     Seeing Sharur's eves on him, the leader of the guard contingent

    




    22
    
    bARRY TURTLeoove
    
    asked, "How much longer, master merchant's son?" Mushezib mi
    have been carved from stone, so sharply chiseled were the musc
    rippling under his skin. The scar on his cheek above the line of
    beard and the bigger scar that furrowed the right said of his ch
    might have been slips of the sculptor's tools.
     "It will be soon now," Sharur answered. His bow and spear w
    packed on a donkey, too. He had never yet had to fight up in Ala
    kurru, but that he never had did not mean he never would.
     When he'd satisfied himself nothing was missing from the carav
    he nodded to Mushezib. The chief guard growled something to
    men. They got to their feet and swaggered over to take their pla
    on either side of the donkeys. There were caravans where the gua
    ended up running the show, they being both armed and used to fig
    ing. That had never happened to any caravan Sharur led. He
    determined it wouldn't happen this time, either.
     "All right, let's go," he said. "May Engibil give us a profita
    journey." Several of the guards took out their amulets to help ens
    that the city god heard and heeded the prayer. So did Harharu a
    a couple of the assistant donkey handlers.
     Sharur gave Harharu the lead rope for the first donkey, committ
    the caravan into the donkeymaster's hands. But before Harharu co
    take the first step, ram's-horn trumpets rang out on the Street
    Smiths. In a great voice, a herald cried, "Behold! Forth comes
    mash, lugal of Gibil! Bow before Kimash the mighty, the powe
    the valiant, beloved of Engibil his patron! Forth comes Kimash, lu
    of Gibil! Behold!"
     The trumpets blared again. Drums thundered. Surrounding the
    gal were warriors who made the men Sharur had hired seem stripli
    beside them. Even Mushezib looked less formidable when set agai
    their thick-thewed bulk.
     Sharur's grandfather's ghost spoke in his ear: "All this folderol o
    a mere man is a pack of nonsense, if anybody wants to know. T
    lugal in my day, Kimash's grandfather Igigi, didn't put on half so mu
    show, and the ensi before him didn't put on any at all, to speak
     "Yes, father to my father," Sharur answered, wishing the garrul
    spirit would shut up. His grandfather's ghost often started chatteri
    at the most inconvenient times.

    




    13CTWCCN TbC RIVCRS
    
    23
    
     Besides, the ghost wasn't so smart as it thought it was. The ensis
    who had ruled Gibil before Igigi had had no need for fancy displays
    of power, not with Engibil speaking directly through them. The lu-
    gals, on the other hand, were faced with the problem of getting peo-
    ple to obey them even though they spoke for no one but themselves.
    No wonder they made themselves as awesome as they could.
     Sharur bowed low as Kimash's retinue came past the caravan. He
    was not altogether surprised when the procession stopped. Kimash
    favored smiths and merchants and scribes. They brought new powers
    into Gibil, powers that might be manipulated against Engibil's long-
    entrenched strength.
     Kimash's guards stood aside to let the lugal advance. He was a man
    in his early forties, not far from Ereshguna's age, still vigorous even
    though gray was beginning to frost his hair and beard. He wore gold
    earrings, and bound his hair in a bun at the back of his neck with
    gold wire rather than a simple ribbon. The hilt of his dagger was
    wrapped in gold wire, too, and gold buckles sparkled on his belt and
    sandals.
     "You may look on me," he told Sharur, who obediently straight-
    ened. The merchant reached out and set his hand on Kimash's thigh
    for a moment in token of submission. The lugal covered it with his
    OIAM hand, then released it. He said, "May Engibil and the other gods,
    the great gods, favor your journey to the mountains, Sharur son of
    Ereshguna."
     "I thank the lugal, the lord of Gibil," Sharur replied.
     "May you be fortunate in bringing back ingots of shining copper;
    may your donkeys' panniers be laden with heavy sacks of ore," Ki-
    mash said.
     "May it be so indeed," Sharur said.
     Abruptly, Kimash abandoned the formal diction he used when
    speaking as lugal-the diction handed down for rulers since the days
    when the lords of Gibil were ensis through whom Engibil spoke-
    and addressed Sharur as one man to another: "I want that copper.
    We cannot have too much of it. Imhursag is stirring against us once
    more, and some of the towns with gods on top of them may send
    men and weapons to help in the next war."
     "If I can get it for you, lord, I will," Sharur said. "I wouldn't be

    




    24
    
    D&RRY TURTLcOovc
    
    heading off to the Alashkurrut if I didn't think they would trade it
    to me."
     I know. I understand, the lugal answered. For all his power, for
    all his vigor, he was a worried man. "Bring back curiosities, too,
    things never seen in the land of Kudurru. Let me lay them on the
    altar in Engibil's temple to amuse the god and give him enjoyment."
     "Lord, I will do as you say," Sharur promised. "The god of the city
    deserves the rich presents you lavish upon him."
     He and Kimash looked at each other in mutual understanding.
    Neither of them smiled, in case the god was keeping an eye on Ki-
    mash. But they both knew how venal Engibil was. Igigi had been the
    first to discover that, if he heaped enough offerings on Engibil's altar,
    the god would let him act as he thought best, not merely as Engibil's
    mouthpiece. Kimash followed the same principle as had his grand,
    father. The god remained vastly stronger than the lugal, but Engibil
    was distracted and Kimash was not.
     I shall have Engibil's priests pray that you enjoy a safe and suc,
    cessful journey," Kimash said. Sharur bowed. Some of the priests, no
    doubt, resented the lugal for ruling, but, with the god content to
    suffer it, what could they do? And some, the younger men, served
    Engibil, aye, but served Kimash, too. The lugal said, "My prayers will
    go with theirs."
     Sharur bowed again. I thank the lugal, the lord of Gibil."
     "One thing more," Kimash said with sudden abruptness. "What-
    ever word of Enimhursag's doings you hear in the wider world, bring
    it back to me and to Engibil. That god hates this city, for we beat
    Imhursag and we prosper though men rule us."
     I shall do as you say, lord," Sharur promised once more.
     Kimash nodded, turned, and went back to his place among the
    palace guards, who fell in around him. His retinue started down the
    Street of Smiths once again, the trumpeters blowing great blasts of
    sound from their ram's horns, the herald announcing Kimash's pres-
    ence to everyone nearby as if the lugal were equal to Engibil wh~n
    the god (or, these past couple of generations, a statue of him) paraded
    through the city on his great feast day.
     Harharu and Mushezib, the assistant donkey handlers and the
    guards, all looked at Sharur with new respect. Harharu had surely

    




    F
    13CTWEEN TbC RIVERS
    
    25
    
    known Kimash favored Ereshguna's clan. Mushezib probably had
    known it, too. The others also might well have known it. But know-
   ,,,Cg it and being reminded of it were not one and the same. Everyone
    in Gibil knew the lugal's power. When he walked with guards and
    
    trumpeters and herald, he reminded people of it.
    
    "Do you see, father to my father?" Sharur murmured.
    
     He'd really been talking to himself, but his grandfather's ghost
    heard. "Oh, I see," it answered. "That doesn't mean I like it." The
    ghost left. He could feel it go. He smiled to himself. His grandfather
    b-J,,'t I ed much as an old man and liked even less now that he
    
    was dead.
    
     Sharur didn't suppose he could blame his grandfather's ghost.
    When the last person who remembered him alive died, the ghost
    would no longer be able to stay on earth, but would go down to the
    underworld and dwell in shadows forever. No wonder he reckoned
    
    any and all chanQe for the worse.
    
     One day, Sharur thought, that fate would be his, too. But he was
    young. Strength flowed through him. He hadn't yet married Ningal,
    and had no children, let alone grandchildren. Life stretched ahead,
    looking long and good. He did not intend to become a ghost for
    
    many, many years.
    
     "Let's go!" he said. Harharu, as he had been on the point of doing
    when Kimash came over to Sharur, pulled on the lead donkey's line.
    The donkey stared at him with large, astonished liquid eyes: the idea
    of actually going anywhere had long since vanished from its mind.
    Harharu pulled again. The donkey's long ears twitched. It brayed
    
    indignantly.
    
    "Give it a good kick," Mushezib suggested.
    
     "Patience." Harharu's voice was mild. He tugged on the lead line
    again. The donkey started forward. That took up the slack on the
    line connecting it to the next beast which brayed out its own protest
    before reluctantly following. The hideous clamor ran down the line.
    Here and there, a donkey balked. The handlers encouraged the an-
    imals to go, sometimes gently, sometimes b methods akin to Mush-
    
    ezib's At last the whole caravan was moving.
     Dimgalabzu the smith, Ningal's father, came out of his house as
    Sbortir led the caravan past it: a tough-lookine, wide-shouldered man

    




    26
    
    J)ARRY TURTLcOove
    
    whose bare belly bulged above the belt upholding his kilt. He wa
    carrying a big wicker basket full of rubbish, which he flung into th
    street. "Going off to get more copper for us, are you, Ereshguna'
    son?" he called.
     "Just so, father to my intended bride," Sharur answered. "And
    when I return, we shall talk about payment of the price for you
    daughter."
     "You think so, do you?" Dimgalabzu said, not as a true threat bu
    because he enjoyed making his prospective son-in-law squirm. "Well
    we shall see, we shall see." He waved to Sharur, winked, and wen
    back inside.
     Mushezib chuckled. "I hope for your sake, lad, the girl takes afte
    her mother."
     "In looks, you mean? She does," Sharur answered. Ningal also
    a good deal of her father's bluff, sometimes disconcerting sense o
    humor. Sharur said nothing about that. His fianc6e's intimate per
    sonal characteristics were not the concern of a caravan guard.
     He had turned off the Street of Smiths and was well on his wa
    to the western gate when he led the caravan past a family who wer
    knocking down their house. That happened every so often in Gibil
    The sun-dried mud brick of which almost everything in the city sav
    Engibil's temple and the lugal's palace was built was hardly th
    strongest stuff. Sometimes a wall would collapse under the growin
    weight of the roof as one season's mud chinking went on top o
    another's. Sometimes a wall would collapse at what seemed nothi
    more than the whim of a god or demon. Sometimes a whole hous
    would fall down. When that happened, people often died.
     No one seemed to have been hurt here, not by the cheerful wa
    in which the family and a couple of slaves were biting chunks out o
    the one wall still standing with hoes and mattocks, and spreadin
    and pounding the crushed mud bricks to make a floor for the ne
    house they'd soon build on the site of the old one. They'd carefull
    saved their poplarwood roof beams and set them in the street'nex
    to the stacks of bricks from which the new house would arise.
     The street had been narrow to begin with. Wood and bric
    slimmed it further. And, of course, a crowd of people had gathere

    




    73C-TWCCN TbG RIVCRS
    
    27
    
    to watch the work and offer suggestions. "After you're done with
    your,house, why don't you knock down mine?" somebody called.
     "Knock down your own house, Melshippak," the man of the la-
    ~Oring family answered, in tones suggesting that Melshippak was a
    close friend or a relative. "Me, I'm going to enjoy being on a level
    with the street for a change, instead of taking a big step up every
    time I want to go out my own front door. This is the first time we've
    had to build in more than twenty years."
     Over twenty years, a lot of people had, like Dimgalabzu, pitched
    their trash into the street. No wonder its level had risen in that
    stretch of time.
     Sharur, however, did not care how high the street was, only how
    wide, or rather, how narrow. "Please move aside," he called to Mel-
    shippak and the other spectators. When they didn't move, he
    shouted, "Make way!" That shifted a few of them, but not enough.
    He nodded to the caravan guards. They swaggered forward. Even
    without any weapons but fists and knives, they were large, impressive
    men. With them at his back, Sharur shouted, "Clear out, curse you!
    Stop clogging this canal!"
     People stared at him as if they hadn't had the slightest idea he or
    the donkeys or the guards were anywhere nearby. Slowly, grudgingly,
    they gave way. One after another, the donkeys squeezed past the
    bottleneck. As soon as they had gone by, the crowd flowed back.
     Like the god's temple, like the lugal's palace, the city wall was built
    of baked brick far more costl than the sun-dried variety but far
    harder and more nearly permanent. In the Alashkurru Mountains,
    they made houses and walls out of stone, but in Kudurru that would
    have been even more expensive than baked brick.
     "Engibil's goodwill and all good fortune attend you, son of Eresh-
    guna," one of the gate guards said. They were Kimash's followers to
    a man, and so well inclined toward traders and smiths.
     Sharur led the caravan down the low hill atop which Gibil sat and
    onto the flood plain at the base of that hill. He had descended the
    hill countless times, never once thinking about it. Now he looked
    back and seemed to see it with new eyes. Had it always been there,
    a knob sticking up from the flatland all around? Or had Gibil-that-

    




    13ETWEEM TbC RIVERS
    
    27
    
    t watch the work and offer suggestions. "After you're done with
    your,house, why don't you knock down mine?" somebody called.
    .,"Kftock down your own house, Melshippak," the man of the la-
    ..-~6ring family answered, in tones suggesting that Melshippak was a
    close friend or a relative. "Me, I'm going to enjoy being on a level
    with the street for a change, instead of taking a big step up every
    time I want to go out my own front door. This is the first time we've
    had to build in more than twenty years."
     Over twenty years, a lot of people had, like Dimgalabzu, pitched
    their trash into the street. No wonder its level had risen in that
    stretch of time.
     Sharur, however, did not care how high the street was, only how
    wide, or rather, how narrow. "Please move aside," he called to Mel-
    shippak and the other spectators. VAen they didn't move, he
    shouted, "Make way!" That shifted a few of them, but not enough.
    He nodded to the caravan guards. They swaggered forward. Even
    without any weapons but fists and knives, they were large, impressive
    men. With them at his back, Sharur shouted, "Clear out, curse you!
    Stop clogging this canal!"
     People stared at him as if they hadn't had the slightest idea he or
    the donkeys or the guards were anywhere nearby. Slowly, grudgingly,
    they gave way. One after another, the donkeys squeezed past the
    bottleneck. As soon as they had gone by, the crowd flowed back.
     Like the god's temple, like the lugal's palace, the city wall was built
    Of baked brick, far more costly than the sun-dried variety but far
    harder and more nearly permanent. In the Alashkurru Mountains,
    they made houses and walls out of stone, but in Kudurru that would
    have been even more expensive than baked brick.
     "Engibil's goodwill and all good fortune attend you, son of Eresh-
    guna," one of the gate guards said. They were Kimash's followers to
    a man, and so well inclined toward traders and smiths.
     Sharur led the caravan down the low hill atop which Gibil sat and
    onto the flood plain at the base of that hill. He had descended the
    hill countless times, never once thinking about it. Now he looked
    back and seemed to see it with new eyes. Had it always been there,
    a knob sticking up from the flatland all around? Or had Gibil-that-

    




    28
    
    _bARRY TuRTLcOove
    
    was started out on the flood plain and slowly risen, one basketful of
    trash, one knocked-down house, at a time, till now it stood somg
    distance above the plain all around? If that went on for anothet
    thousand years, or two, or three, would Gibil end up sitting atop a
    mountain? Maybe it would, but not with him here to see it, nor even
    his ghost.
     The road that ran west toward the Yarmuk River-a beaten tract
    in the mud-passed any number of small farming villages. A few ol
    the better houses in them would be made of sun-dried brick, lik(
    those of Gibil. Most, though, were built of the reeds that grew alonf
    riverbanks and, where untended, choked canals to death. Those but
    resembled nothing so much as enormous baskets turned upside down
     "I wouldn't want to live like that," Sharur said, pointing towar(
    one such hut in front of which a couple of naked children played
    "You couldn't go up to the roof to sleep without tolling off on you
    head."
     Mushezib's laugh bared a fine set of strong, yellow teeth. "I gre)
    up in a village like this one, but, after I'd gone into Gibil a few time
    to trade, I knew that was where I wanted to live out my days."
     Harharu nodded. "My story is the same. So many people, thougl
    are happy to stay in the fields all their lives." His wave over tb
    landscape encompassed farmers weeding the growing wheat and bal.
    ley, their wives tending garden plots of beans and onions and cabbag
    and melons and cucumbers, a couple of men digging mud from tl~
    bank of a canal and plopping it into square frames to make bricks,
    woman spanking a child that had been naughty, and a fellow spearir
    fish out of a stream with a sharpened reed.
     Sharur would have bet all those people would stay in their villal
    till they died. He was lucky enough to have been born in Gibil, in
    city that traded to east and west, north and south, and that boast(
    whole streets not only of smiths but also of potters and dyers at
    basketmakers and other artisans. Had he not been born there, I
    knew he too would have found a way to make it his home. -
     Then he thought again of Gibil-that-was, the town he imagin
    down on the valley floor rather than standing tall on its hill. In f,
    time of his grandfather's grandfather's grandfather, would it not ha

    




    BETWECM TbC RIVC-RS
    
    29
    
    been a village much like any of these others? He wondered what had
    made it grow while they stayed as they always were.
     Engibil, he thought. The god had always dwelt there. People who
    dame to petition him would have stopped to trade and simply to
    gossip with one another. That alone might have been enough to push
    Gibil ahead of the neighboring villages. Sharur smiled nervously. He,
    a modem man, tried to stay out of the god's shadow and stand in his
    own light as much as he could. Strange to think he might have been
    enabled to become a modem man because Engibil caused a city to
    come into being.
     That night, the caravan camped by a village still in the territory
    ruled by Gibil. One of the donkeys carried trinkets to trade for sup-
    plies along the way. A few necklaces strung with pottery beads,
    brightly colored stones, and small seashells from the Sea of Rabia
    (into which the Yarmuk and Diyala flowed) got Sharur enough bread
    and beer and sun-dried fish to feed his men. He unrolled his blanket
    on the ground and slept till sunup.
     "Come on," he said as he splashed water on his face from a canal
    to help wake himself up. Several of the donkey handlers and guards
    knelt by the edge of the water with him, doing the same. Others, a
    little farther downstream, pissed away the beer they'd drunk the night
    before. Still yawning, Sharur went on, "This was the last night we'll
    be able to rest without posting sentries. By tonight, we'll be in the
    lands that belong to the city of Zuabu. Nobody with any sense will
    trust the Zuabut: they're thieves."
     "That's Enzuabu's fault," Harharu said. "They used to have another
    god there, a long time ago, but Enzuabu stole the city from him and
    chased him out into the desert. Of course the people take after their
    god."
     "I heard it the other way round: that the city god takes after the
    people, I mean," Sharur said. "I heard they were such thieves that
    they raised a power of thievery in their land, and that was how En-
    zuabu got to be stronger than the god they used to have."
     "It may be so," the donkeymaster answered with a shrug. "It's not
    the tale I'd heard, but it may be so. Whether it is or it isn't, though,
    you're right-they steal."

    




    30
    
    1)3,'RRY TURTtE00VC
    
    The caravan came to the border between Gibil's lands and Zuabu
    not long after noon. The two towns, the two gods, were at peace. 1~
    guards patrolled the frontier, as they did between Gibil and Imhum
    to the north. A bridge of date,palm logs stretched across a can,
    Once over it, Sharur went on down the road to the west throul
    Zuabu's land.
     Before long, Zuabut, curious as crows, came flocking to the c-,
    avan. They were as full of questions as they were of gossip, whi,
    was very full indeed. As they chattered away, they eyed the do
    keys-and the bundles on the beasts' backs-with bright, aN
    eyes. Mushezib and the rest of the guards all did their best to to
    fierce and vigilant. Sharur was mournfully certain something wol
    turn up missing; he hoped it wouldn't be anything too valuable
    important.
     You never could tell how much attention you ought to pay
    anything the Zuabut said. Sharur listened to the story of Nurili, i
    ensi of Zuabu, impregnating all fourteen of his wives on the sa
    night with the amount of incredulity he thought it deserved. "I
    god spoke through him," insisted the man of Zuabu telling the u
     "The god poked through him, you say?" Sharur returned, pretei
    ing to misunderstand the hissing Zuabi dialect. His own men laugb
    After a moment, when they realized Enzuabu wasn't offended (of
    least, hadn't noticed), the Zuabut laughed, too. Sharur went
    "That's what it would have taken, I think."
     But not all the tales were tall ones. Another man of Zuabu s
    "Three days ago, a caravan from Imhursag came through our lo
    also heading west. If you meet on the road, I hope you do not fig]
     Zuabu was at peace with Gibil. But Zuabu was also at peace N
    Imhursag. Sharur said, "We will not be the first to fight. But if
    Imhursagut quarrel with us, we will not be the first to leave off fil
    ing, either."                         I
     "That is good. That is as it should be," the Zuabi said, nodd
    "It may be, too, that you and the Imhursagut will not meet."
     "Yes, it may be," Sharur agreed. "Whither are they bound?"
     "To the mountains of Alashkurru, even as you are," the ma

    




    13CTWEEM TI)C RILVCRS
    
    31
    
    Zuabu replied. "Still, it may be that you and they will not meet. Three
    days is much time for travelers to make up on the road."
     "This is also true," Sharur said. He did not believe it, though, not
    down in his heart. Had he had a three days' lead on the men of
    Imhursag, he would have been sure they could never catch him up.
    Being three days behind them, he reckoned it likely he would pass
    them on the road. People from towns where gods ruled directly never
    seemed to move quite so fast as those who did all their own thinking,
    all their own planning, for themselves.
     The Zuabi pointed. "Look there in the sky!" he said, his voice
    rising in excitement. "It is a mountain eagle, flying to the west. This
    is bound to be a good omen for your caravan."
     For a moment, Sharur's eyes did go to the sky. Then they swung
    back to the man of Zuabu, who was stepping rapidly toward the clos-
    est donkey. In his hand he had a little knife of chipped flint, the sort
    of knife everyone had used in the days before bronze. Sharur reached
    out and grabbed his wrist. "I do not think you would be wise to cut
    any bundles open. I think you would be wise to go away from this
    caravan and never let us see your face again."
     "This is how you pay me back for warning you of your enemies?
    the man said indignantly.
     "No. This is how I pay you back for lying to me about the omen
    and for trying to steal my goods." Sharur spoke without heat. The
    people of Zuabu were given to thievery, and that was all there was
    to it. "Put away your little stone knife and go in peace. That is how
    I pay you back for warning me."
     C40h, very well," the man of Zuabu said. "You should have been
    fooled."
     "I have been through Zuabu and the lands it rules before," Sharur
    answered. "I know some of your tricks-not all of them, but some."
     The donkeys plodded on. Toward evening, they approached the
    city of Zuabu. Only one building was tall enough for its upper portions
    to be seen over the top of the city wall: the temple to Enzuabu. Sharur
    knew the ensi's residence was only a small annex to the temple, not
    a palace in its own right, as Kimash the lugal enjoyed back in Gibil.
     "Shall we go up into the city for the night, master merchant's son?"
    Harharu asked.
    
    r1k
    ,_~ _32MMER

    




    -b,NR-RY -rUR-ULC00VC=
    
     Sharur shook his head. "I see no need to pay for lodgings, nol
    when the weather is fine and we can sleep on our blankets. We hav(
    not been traveling so long that we stand in need of special comforts
    On the way home, maybe we shall bed down in Zuabu, to remin(
    ourselves of what lies just ahead."
     That satisfied the donkeymaster. It also satisfied Mushezib, who
    from everything Sharur had seen, liked going out on the road bette
    than living soft in a city, anyhow. If the assistant donkey handler
    and ordinary guards had different opinions, no one bothered to fin(
    out what they were.
     Some time in the middle of the night, one of the guards, a burl
    fellow named Agum, shook Sharur awake. The moon had risen nc
    long before, spilling soft yellow light over the land between the river~
    Sharur murmured a prayer of greeting to Nusku, then said, "What'
    wrong?"
     Agum pointed toward the walls of Zuabu. "Master merchant's sol
    I'm glad we're not in that city tonight. Look-Enzuabu walks."
     A chill went through Sharur. As gods went in the land of Kudurn
    Engibil was a placid sort. Had it been otherwise, he should nev(
    have allowed merely human lugals to rule Gibil these past three ger
    erations. He was content, even eager, to accept the offerings tl
    lugals gave him, and to stay'in his temple to receive them. He h~
    not gone abroad in his city since Sharur was a boy.
     But, as Engibil had once done, other gods played more active rol,
    in the lives of their cities. And so, his eyes wide with awe, Shari
    saw Enzuabu's moonlight-washed figure, twice as tall as the walls
    Zuabu, go striding through the streets. The god's eyes would ha,
    glowed whether the moon was in the sky or not; looking at them p
    Sharur in mind of the yellow-hot fires the smiths used to melt bron
    for casting.
     Across a couple of furlongs, those eyes met Sharur's. To the m(
    chant's horror, Enzuabu paused in his peregrinations. He stared o
    toward the caravan as if contemplating paying it a visit. If he di
    Sharur did not judge from the way his great form tensed that the vi
    would be a pleasant one.
     Sharur's hand closed over the amulet he wore on his belt. "Engil

    




    13CTWCEM T13C RIVERS
    
    33
    
    is my lord," he said rapidly. "Engibil has no quarrel with the lord of
    Zuabu."
     For a moment, he thought Enzuabu would ignore that invocation
    and reminder. But then the god lowered his burning gaze so that it
    fell within the city once more. He reached down onto, or perhaps
    through, the roof of one of the houses there. When he straightened,
    the hand with which he had reached was closed-on what or whom,
    Sharur could not see. He thought that just as well.
     Agum's voice was a bare thread of whisper: "If we'd been in there,
    he might have grabbed us like that."
     He might have grabbed me like that, Sharur thought. For whatever
    reason, Enzuabu had taken him for an enemy, although, as he'd said,
    Enzuabu and Engibil were at peace, no less than their cities were.
    Sharur scratched his head in bewilderment. He'd come through Zu-
    a,bu and its hinterland several times, going to and from the Alash,
    kurru Mountains. Never once had the god of Zuabu taken the least
    notice of him.
     A thought much like that must have crossed Agum's mind, for the
    guard asked, "Did you somehow anger Enzuabu, master merchant's
    son?"
     "Not in any way I know," Sharur answered. "Come the morning,
    though, I will make a forgiveness-offering even so."
     "It is good," Agum. said. "I do not want a god angry at us."
     "No, nor L" Sharur watched Enzuabu until the god shrank down
    to accommodate himself to his temple once more. Only then did the
    merchant think it safe to lie down and go back to sleep.
     He greeted the rise of Shumukin, the lord of the sun, with a prayer
    set to the same music as that for Nusku the night before. Shumukin
    was, without a doubt, the most reliable god the folk of Kudurru knew.
    His one failing was that he sometimes did not know his own strength.
     After telling Harharu and Mushezib what Agum and he had seen
    in the night, Sharur said, "I will buy two birds for the forgiveness-
    offering," and started back toward the village closest to Zuabu.
     "Why not go into the city?" Mushezib asked. "It's right here before
    us.
     Sharur shook his head. "I do not wish to enter the stronghold of

    




    34t
    
    1)3,-RRY TURTLc-Oovc-
    
    Enzuabu on earth before offering to the god, not when I do not kn(
    how badly I may have offended him." Mushezib ran a hand throul
    his thick, elaborately curled beard before finally nodding.
     Having traded jewelry for a pair of trussed doves, Sharur carri
    them to the caravan. He laid them in a fine bowl, one for which
    had intended to gain a high price from the men of Alashkurru. I
    help for it: an offering of his worst would have inflamed Enzua
    against him had the god not been angry before.
     He held the bowl with the two doves out toward the walls of ZuO
    and humbled himself before the city god. "Lord Enzuabu, if I hz
    enraged thee-forgive, I beg! Lord Enzuabu, if I have affroni
    thee-forgive, I beg! Lord Enzuabu, if I have insulted thee-forgi
    I beg! Lord Enzuabu, if I have offended thee-forgive, I beg! L(
    Enzuabu, if I have slighted thee-forgive, I beg!"
     After running through a long litany of the ways in which he mil
    have incurred Enzuabu's displeasure, he twisted off the doves' he
    and let their blood fill the bowl. Then, using only the first two fing
    of his right hand, he sprinkled the blood on his chest and his
    He beckoned first Harharu and then Mushezib forward, and did
    same with them. Last of all, he sprinkled the lead donkey with
    doves' blood. The donkey snorted and twitched its big ears. It
    not like the smell of blood
     "Lord Enzuabu-forgive, I beg!" Sharur cried. "May thy wrath
    shattered like this bowl I give to thee!" With all his might, he das]
    the thin, lovely bowl against the hard ground. It smashed int
    hundred pieces. The doves' blood made a red star on the dirt.
     "It is accomplished," Harharu intoned, almost as if he had
    pected it would not be. "Now let us continue."
     "Now let us continue, Sharur echoed. Harharu pulled on the r
    to get the lead donkey moving. But, as the caravan passed Zuabu
    he got no sense that Enzuabu had in fact forgiven him. True, the
    did not rise up in fury, as he might have done, but he yielded noth
    either. He simply bided his time.
    
    West and north of the lands Zuabu ruled was a barren, unirrigi
    stretch of land no city or god claimed. Little dust demons swi

    




    13ETWC-CN TI)C RIVCRS
    
    35
    
    around the caravan, now nervously running away from the men and
    donkeys, now skittering up close to see if they might cause some
    mischief. When one of them got under his feet and tried to trip him,
    Sharur took from his belt the eyed amulet of Engibil. "Begone!" he
    cried, and, with little frightened gasps, the dust demons fled from the
    power of the god.
     Wild donkeys fled from the caravan, too; the power of man sufficed
    to put them in fear. Their hooves kicked up more dust than all the
    dust demons in the world could have raised. Sharur sent Agurn and
    one of the assistant donkey handlers, a wide-shouldered man named
    Rukagina, after them with bows. The hunters returned later in the
    day with a gutted carcass slung from a pole.
     Sharur led the cheers for them. "Tonight we feast!" he cried. Wild
    donkey might not be so flavorsome as mutton or beef, but everyone
    would be able to gorge himself on meat.
     The caravan crew were not the only hunters on the plain. Not
    long after Agum and Rukagina came back with the donkey, a lion
    roared nearby. That fierce, thunderous cough made Sharur's hand
    fly to the hilt of his knife before he realized it had done so. It also
    made the donkeys of the caravan, which had been restive at the
    sight and smell of one of their kind slain, suddenly become docile
    as lambs.
     Harharu chuckled. "They depend on us to protect them from the
    wild beasts, and they know it," he said to Sharur.
     Off in the distance, the wild donkeys threw up a great cloud of
    dust. The roar sounded again, and several more after it in quick suc'-
    cession. Vultures spiraled down out of the sky, as they had done when
    Agum and Rukagina killed. Then the birds could feast on the offal
    the men had left behind. Now they would have to wait until the
    lions were done before taking their share.
     Sharur set his hand on the neck of the lead donkey. "We will give
    them what they expect, then," he said. The donkey snapped at him.
    He jerked his hand away in a hurry. Harharu laughed out loud.
     That evening, the guards and donkey handlers gathered brush and
    dry donkey dung for a couple of cookfires by a tiny stream. They and
    held gobbets of donkey meat over the flames on sticks, roast-
    ,Sharur
    ing them till they were charred black on the outside but still red and

    




    36
    
    1)3,RRv TuRTLeoovc
    
    juicy within. Sharur burned his fingers, burned his lips, burned his
    tongue. He did not care. His belly would be full.
     Rukagina's eyes glowed in the firelight. For a moment, Sharur, see,
    
    ing that, simply accepted it. Then he knew something was amiss. The
    eyes of dogs and foxes, wild cats and lions, gave back the fire that way
    he had watched the beasts prowling round the edges of many camps
    Men's eyes did not normally reflect the light in the same way.
     Demons' eyes did, though. "Rukagina!" Sharur said sharply.
      Rukagina stared at him. The donkey handler's eyes glowed brighte
    still, as if the fire were behind them, not in front. "Rukagina, yes,
    he said, as if he did not recognize his own name. Then he laughec'
    a hideous cry that made all his companions exclaim in alarm. "Ru
    kagina is eaten, eaten!" he roared.
      "A pestilence!" Harharu said. "A demon of this desert has seize
    him."
      'Yes, Sharur said, and brandished Engibil's eyed amulet, as 17.
    had at the little dust demons on the road.
      This one was made of sterner stuff. Its laugh came again throug
    Rukagina's mouth. "I am the spirit of this desolation," it declare
    "Your god is far from home, and lazy even in his own city. He h
    no power over me here. The desert is my city. Here I am a god. May]
    with this man I shall cause a true city to rise here. Then I shall be
    true god, a great god, greater than your god."
      Maybe the demon could do that. Maybe Engibil had been just sui
    a wandering desert spirit once. But Sharur did not intend to let t'
    demon aggrandize itself at the expense of one of his men. "Se
    him!" he shouted, and the caravan guards piled onto Rukagina.
     With the demon in him, the donkey handler fought back wi
    more than human strength. But he was not stronger than all t
    guards together. They held him down, two men on each arm, th,
    on each leg. He howled like a fox. He hissed like a serpent. He snar'
    like a lion, and tried to bite like one. And ever and always, he k,
    seeking to throw the guards off him.   I
      Mushezib drew his bronze knife from its sheath. "Maybe I sho
    yank up his beard and cut his throat like a sheep's," the guard capt
    said. "That would make the demon flee."

    




    d
    A
    
    [d
    ~n
    
    13CTAVEEM TbC RIVERS
    
    37
    
     "Yes, but whom would it seize next?" Sharur asked. "You, per-
    haps?"
     "Avert the omen!" Mushezib exclaimed, and spat to his left side.
     Shatur walked over to the packs the men had taken from the
    donkeys' backs when they stopped for the night. Had he paid less
    attention to the way the beasts were loaded, he might have searched
    till sunrise without finding what he sought. As things were, he ran it
    to earth like a cheetah bringing down a gazelle gone lame: a small,
    plain pot, its stopper sealed with pitch.
     "What have you got there?" Mushezib asked.
     "Essence of the marigold," Sharur answered. "The Alashkurrut es-
    teem it highly, and every caravan sells many jars to them. It's
    sovereign against scorpion stings-of which they have many-snake-
    bite, jaundice, toothache, stomach trouble, difficult breathing, dis,
    eases of the privates ... and possession by a demon."
     "Strong stuff!" the guard captain said admiringly.
     "Engibil grant it be strong enough." Sharur used the point of his
    own knife to scrape away the pitch and pry up the lid to the pot. He
    was used to being glad Engibil took less part in human affairs than a
    god like Enzuabu or, worse, Enimhursag. But when a desert demon
    mocked his deity, he wondered if he should have second thoughts.
     A sweet, spicy odor rose from the pot when he opened it. Beck-
    oning for Mushezib to come with him, he walked over to demon-
    possessed Rukagina and squatted beside him. Seeing-and perhaps
    smelling-what he bore, the spirit made the donkey handler clench
    his jaws tight, like a two-year-old who refused to eat his mashed
    parsnips.
     Mushezib seized Rukagina's beard and pulled with all his formi-
    dable strength. Altogether against the demon's will, the donkey han-
    dler's mouth came open. Sharur poured half a potful of essence of
    marigold down him. Rukagina was trying to cry out at that moment,
    which meant the medicine all but drowned him. Instead of being
    able to spit it out, he coughed and choked ... and swallowed.
     He let out a cry that frightened into silence the small crawling and
    creeping, piping and cheeping creatures around the caravan's camp-
    fires. His entire body convulsed, so violently that the men holding
    
    -1

    




    38
    
    j)3,RRY TURTLeOove
    
    him were flung from his limbs. Something dark came forth from h
    mouth and nose, from his eyes and ears, and was gone before Shari
    could be sure he had seen it.
     Rukagina sat up and looked around. A hand went to his chii
    "Who's been pulling my beard?" he demanded. Had Mushezib yank(
    on Sharur's whiskers like that, his chin would have been sore, too
     "Look at the fire," he told the donkey handier. When Rukagit
    did, Sharur studied his eyes. They did not flash as they had befoi
    "The gods he praised: we have driven the demon from you."
     "Demon?" Rukagina said. "What demon? I was sitting by the fil
    eating a slice of the donkey's liver, and, and. . ." His voice trail,
    away. "I do not remember what happened after that."
     "As well that you do not," Sharur said, to which the rest of f.
    caravan crew nodded in unison, as if a single will controlled then
     "Tell me!" Rukagina said. His companions were happy enough
    oblige him.
     Thoughtfully, Sharur replaced the stopper in the pot of marig(
    essence. Among the supplies the caravan carried was a small pot
    pitch: no telling when someone might need to stick something
    something else. As he used a twig to daub it on and reseal the stopl
    so what was left of the medicine would not spill, Mushezib came
    
     "Yes, it is," Sharur agreed. "Now that I can tell the Alashkurn
    saw wi my own eyes how it routed a strong demon, I can cha
    
     "True enough," the guard captain said. Eyeing the pot, he w
    on in musing tones: "If it works as well for diseases of the private
    for driving out demons, it is a very strong medicine indeed."
     "Ah." Sharur looked down at the pot he held in his hands.
    hefted it. "Do you know," he said, "I very much doubt the At-,
    kurrut would want a pot that has already had half the medicine dr
    from it. Why don't you take it, Mushezib? You can dispose of i
    
    "The master merchant's son is kind." Mushezib made sure he

    




    Past the haunted desert, three cities lay between Gibil and the Yar-
    muk River. In neither of the first two, both ruled by ensis, did the
    caravan encounter any difficulty with men or gods. Sharur still won-
    dered why Enzuabu had seemed so hostile. Even the demon of the
    desolation had mocked Engibil. The omen struck Sharur as worri-
    some. "I wonder if the demon troubled the caravan out of Imhursag,"
    he said to Harharu.
     "I doubt it," the donkeymaster answered. "The Imhursagut have
    their heads so full of their god, there's no room in them for anything
    else."
     "In that case, I am glad to be emptyheaded," Sharur said, and
    Harharu laughed. So did Sharur, though a moment later he wondered
    what was funny. If Enimhursag protected his people and Engibil did
    not protect his, which was the stronger god?
     But a city's strength, as Sharur well knew, depended on more than
    the strength of its god. It was the strengths of god and men together.
    Engibil might be weaker than some, but Gibil, as the metal merchant
    knew, was by no means to be despised. Where gods were weak, the
    strength of men could grow, as could their ability to act for them-
    selves. He cherished what freedom he had: cherished it and wanted
    
     Instead of going through the territory of Aggasher, the city that
    controlled the usual crossing point for the Yarmuk, Sharur swung the
    caravan north through the debatable land just to the east of it. En-
    iaggasher, the city's goddess, ruled it in her own right. He found
    dealing with men who were hardly more than mouthpieces for their
    tedious at any time. Now he also feared they would try
    
    39
        




    40
    
    I)ARRY TURTILr=ibove
    
    to delay him or, worse, to help the cause of the caravan from It
    hursag, whose men remained similarly in the hands of their god.
     "I know what you're doing," Harhant said when Sharur order
    the turn. "This wouldn't work in springtime, you know."
     "We're not in springtime," Sharur said with a smile. "The sun
    high, and the river is low."
     A couple of herdsmen and a couple of peasants stared as the c;
    avan came down to the Yarmuk. They were folk of Aggasher. 0
    day, Eniaggasher would chance to look through their eyes wher
    caravan from Gibil used this ford to avoid crossing by the city. Th
    there might be trouble. But it had not happened yet. Eniaggasl
    paid little attention to these outliers under her control, in the sai
    way that a man, under most circumstances, paid little attention
    his toenails.
     A goddess dwelt in the Yarmuk, too, of course. Before ventur
    into the river, Sharur walked up to the bank, a gleaming broi
    bracelet inset with polished jet in his hands. "For thee, Eniyarm
    to adorn thyself and made thyself more beautiful, he said, z
    dropped the bracelet into the muddy water.
     The sacrifice made, he took off his sandals, pulled down his h
    and stepped naked into the Yarmuk to test the ford. The sand
    mud of the river bottom squelched up between his toes. Little
    nibbled at his legs. The cool water seemed to caress his body as
    advanced. He took that for a sign the river goddess had accepted
    offering.
     Up to his knees he went, up to his thighs, up to his waist
    beyond. If the water got much deeper, the donkeys would have ti
    ble crossing. "Let us be able to ford in safety, Eniyarmuk, and I
    give thee another bracelet, like unto the first, when we reach
    farther bank," he said, and pressed on across the river.
     Before long, his navel, and then his privates, too, came out of
    water. He kept on until, wet and dripping, he emerged on thewes,
    bank of the Yarmuk. From there, he waved back at the rest of
    caravan. Guards and donkey handlers got out of their clothes.
    kagina thoughtfully picked up Sharur's kilt and sandals and car
    them above his head along with his own gear. The men led
    donkeys into the river.

    




    73ETWCEM TbC RIVERS
    
    41
    
     As Sharur had prayed they would, they made the crossing without
    incident: almost without incident, at any rate, for a couple of men
    and a couple of donkeys came out of the water with leeches clinging
    to their legs. They had to start a fire there by the riverbank, and use
    burning twigs to make the worms' heads let go. The guards cried out
    in disgust. One of the donkey handlers cried out, too, when a donkey
    kicked him. Despite the leeches, Sharur gave Eniyarmuk the second
    bracelet.
     He went up and down the length of the caravan to see if the trip
    through the ford had damaged anything. A couple of bolts of red-
    dyed linen were soaked, but everything else seemed all right. He
    sighed. "Well, we're not going to get much for those, not with the
    color running and stained with mud," he said.
     "For a fording, we did well," Harharu said.
     I know that," Sharur answered. "And we saved ourselves trouble
    from Eniaggasher, unless I miss my guess. But even so-" He scowled.
    He did not like anything to go wrong, and was still young enough to
    be easily aggrieved when perfection eluded him. He also begrudged
    the time spent going down small paths back to the main road.
     West of the river, as far as canals took its waters and those of a
    couple of small tributaries, the land might as well have been part of
    Kudurru. The people were of the same stock. They spoke the same
    language, although with a rather singsong intonation. They wor-
    shiped the same great gods and lived in the same sort of reed-hut
    farming villages.
     But they had no cities, and no city gods. None of the demons
    dwelling in this part of the world had been strong enough to con-
    solidate any great number of people under his control. Like the spirit
    that haunted the waste west of Zuabul the demons west of the Yar-
    muk might have had ambitions, but as yet lacked the power to make
    those ambitions real.
     West of the Yarmuk, too, more and more stretches of ground
    were bare, dry wasteland: country that might have been fertile if
    water reached it, but that was too far from any stream or rose too
    high to be irrigated. The mountains of Alashkurru rose higher
    above the horizon here. Back in Gibil, they were visible only on
    the clearest days: a deep, mysterious smudge denting the edge of

    




    42
    
    ,D&RRY TURTLE00ve
    
    the sky. Not here. West of the Yarmuk, Sharur felt them lookin~
    down on him.
     Two days after the caravan forded the river, irrigated land becami
    the exception, dry, scrubby country the rule. There was enough forag,
    for the donkeys; Sharur bartered some of the water-damaged linel
    for a couple of sheep from a herder driving his flock not far from th
    road. That night, he and the donkey handlers and guards ate roa,,
    mutton with wild garlic.
     The next morning, they caught up with the caravan from Imhu
    sag.
    
    Sharur had known they were gaining on the Imhursagut. Had he n
    taken the detour, they would have caught them sooner ... so loi
    as everything went well at the main river crossing by Aggasher. I
    doubted that would have happened.
     When the donkeys of the other caravan went from being ho(
    prints on the road to shapes in front of him, Sharur ordered the gual
    to don their helmets and carry weapons and shields. "You just ca
    tell what the Imhursagut will do, he told Mushezib. "If Enimhur
    wants them to attack us, they will, even if we should outnum.]
    them. A god does what he thinks best for himself first, and won
    about his people only afterwards."
     "I've seen that myself, in the wars we've fought against lmhurs~-
    the guard captain said. "The Imhursagut would throw themsel
    away for no purpose anybody with even a bare keshlu of sense cc
    see. But they think we're crazy, because each one of us acts for hirn
    instead of as a piece of our god's plan. Goes to show, you ask m(
     Goes to show what? Sharur wondered. Instead of asking, he n:
    finger along the edge of his bronze spearhead, then tapped the pc
    He nodded to himself. It was as sharp as he could make it.
     Up ahead, the Imhursagut were also arming themselves. Sh
    saw shields, spears, swords, bows. The other caravan looked al
    the same size as his own. If the two crews came to blows, they,
    
                                    11
     "It will be as I said in the land ruled by Zuabu, Sharur decL
    "We shall not begin the fight here. But if the Imhursagut begi
    
    I

    




    1rAr--r"7cziP1k,-i -rhtz 1r2-iA7c_i2cz
    
    A It
    
    let our cry be, 'Engibil and no quarter!'" The guards nodded. Some
    of them looked eager to fight. Some did not. All of them looked
    
    readv.
    
     Closer and closer the caravan drew to that from Imhursa Soon
    they were within easy bowshot of the rearmost donkeys from the rival
    city. Almost all the Imhursagut had dropped back to the rear to
    
    defend the beasts apainst the men of Gibil
    
    6.
    
     Sharur strode out ahead of his lead donkey. "Gibil and Imhursag
    are not at war now!" he shouted. That was true. It was also the most
    
    that could be said for relations between the two cities.
    
     One of the Imhursagut walked back toward him and held up
    hand, not in peace but in warning. "Come no farther, Gibli!" he
    cried. "Halt vour donkevs. Do not annroach us until vou have made
    
    known your desires to Enimhursag, the mighty god."
    
     "You also halt your donkeys, then," Sharur said. "We will parley,
    you and U' 'ie suppressed a sigh. They would parley: Sharur and the
    man of Imhursag and Enimhursag himself. It was liable to take a
    while, for the god would have only a tiny part of his attention di-
    
    rected toward the caravan
    
     Sure enough, the Imhursaggi stood as if waiting for orders for sev-
    eral breaths before nodding jerkily and saying, "It shall be as you
    propose." He turned back to the rest of the Imhursagut and ordered
    them to halt. Sharur waved for his followers to come no closer. Then
    the man from Imhursag demanded, "Why are you pursuing us? The
    god told us some time ago that you were following in our wake."
    
     We are not pursuing you," Sharur answered. "We are going our
    own way, down the same road as you are using, and we happen to be
    moving rather faster. Let us go by without fighting. You will breathe
    our dust for a little while, but then it shall be as if we never were."
     "It could be so," the man of Imhursag said. But then, while he
    seemed on the point of adding something more, he suddenly shook
    
    his head. " o. Enimhursag does not believe you. You seek to get
    
    ahead of us to disrupt our trade with the Alashkurrut."
    
     Only the certain knowledge that laughing in a god's face was dan,
    gerous made Sharur hold his mouth closed. The city gods of Kudurru
    were a provincial lot, Enimhursag more than most. Though his power
    touched his followers far beyond the land he ruled, he had no true

    




    44
    
    ])&-RRY TURTteibove
    
    conception of the size of the world and its constituent parts. "Alas]
    kurru is a wide land," Sharur said soberly. "We can trade in one pa
    of it and you in another. Even if we get there first, it will not matter
     "It could be so," the Imhursaggi said again.
     "If you are a merchant, you will have made the journey to tl
    mountains of Alashkurru yourself, " Sharur said, speaking to the f(
    low as one man to another: always an uncertain proposition wh(
    dealing with folk from a god-ruled city. "You will know for yourso
    how wide the mountain country is-more like Kudurru as a whc
    than any one city within the land between the rivers. Your carav~
    and mine can both trade there."
     "It could be so, " the man of Imhursag repeated. Sharur started
    be angry at him for his stupid obstinacy, but checked himself. I
    realized the Imhursaggi did not dare-or perhaps simply could not
    come straight out and disagree with his god. That did not rouse an~
    in Sharur, but pity and fear.
     "Let us past you without fighting," he said gently. "In Engib
    name, I swear my men will start no quarrel with yours as we go b,
     "How can you swear in your god's name?" the Imhursaggi-or v
    it Enimhursag himself?-asked. "Engibil does not speak through 1
    Giblut. We have seen this, to our cost. The words of the men of y(
    city have only their own wind behind them, not the truth of i
    gods."
     For the first time, Sharur realized deep in his belly that he and i
    rest of the folk of Gibil were as strange and frightening to the I
    hursagut as they were to him. "I speak only for myself," he admitt
    "but Engibil is still my god. If I lie in his name, he will punish m
     "That has not always been so," the man of Imhursag replied. I
    then, abruptly, his whole tone changed. He threw back his head,,
    laughed. When he looked at Sharur, he seemed to look strai
    through him: Enimhursag was looking out through his eyes. Sh-~
    shivered and reached for Engibil's amulet. No assault came, thou
    neither against his body nor against his spirit. "Go on," the Iml
    saggi said, in a voice not quite his own. "Go on! Alashkurru is w
    you say. See if it is wide enough for you." He laughed again, e,
    less pleasantly than before.
     As quickly as Enimhursag had taken full possession of him,

    




    13ETWCCN TbC RIVERS
    
    45
    
    god released him once more. He staggered a little, then caught him-
    self. Sharur wondered if he would remember what the god had said
    through him. He proved he did, turning to his own caravan crew and
    ordering them to move their donkeys to the side of the road to let
    Sharur and his companions pass. Men of Gibil would have argued.
    The Imhursagut, feeling the will of their god press on them, obeyed
    without a word.
     To Sharur, the Imhursaggi spoke as himself once more: "Go ahead.
    You Giblut are always so eager to go ahead, so eager to sniff out a
    keshlu's weight of silver in the middle of a dungheap. Go ahead, and
    see what it profits you now."
     "What did your god tell you?" Sharur asked. "Why did he change
    his mind like that?"
     1 do not know why," the man of Imhursag answered. "I do not
    want to know why. I do not need to know why. It is not my place
    to know why." He spoke with pride, where Sharur would have been
    furious at being kept in the dark. "As for what he told me, he told
    me no more than I told you."
     Was that true? Sharur wondered. But the Imhursaggi was less naive
    than some men from god-ruled cities with whom he'd dealt, and so
    he could not be sure. Muttering under his breath, Sharur went back
    to his own caravan. "Forward!" he told the guards and donkey han-
    dlers, adding, "I have sworn in Engibil's name that we shall not be
    the first to start any fight. Be ready for trouble, but begin none your-
    selves, lest you leave me forsworn."
     "Do you hear that, you lugs?" Mushezib growled to the guards. He
    set down his spear for a moment so he could thump his chest with a
    big, hard fist. "Anybody who gets frisky when he shouldn't have
    answers to me afterwards."
     Warily, Sharur led his caravan past the one from Imhursag. The
    Imhursagut did not attack his men. He had not thought they would,
    not when Enimhursag, speaking through their leader, had agreed to
    let him by. They did jeer and hoot and make horrible faces: they
    obeyed their god, but their manner declared what they would have
    done had he given them leave.
   Perhaps they were trying to make the Giblut lose their tempers
       begin the fight. Wanting to prevent that, Sharur pointed to the

    




    46
    
    D.xRRy -ruRTLeOove
    
    Imhursagut and said, "See the trained monkeys? Aren't they funny
    Why don't you throw them a few dates, if you're carrying any in you
    belt pouches to munch on as we walk?"
     As he'd hoped, the guards and donkey handlers laughed. A coup]
    of them did toss dates to the Imhursagut. Their rivals plainly did n(
    know whether to be glad of the food or angry at the way they receive
    it- Enimhursag did not know, and had not told them. They were sti
    waiting for their god to respond by the time the last of Sharur's dot
    keys and the last of his men had passed them by.
     Harharu. said, "That was well done, master merchant's son. Wh(
    men from a god-ruled city act in ways they have acted before, th,
    are as quick and clever as we. Give them something new to chew o
    even if it be, only a date"-he and Sharur smiled at each other-
    6(and they wave their legs in the air like a beetle on its back un
    their god decides what they should do."
     "I was hoping that would happen," Sharur agreed. He raised I
    voice: "Well done, men. Now the Imhursagut will be breathing c
    dust and stepping in our donkey droppings all the way to Alashkur
    Let's step it up for the rest of the day, so we can camp well ap,
    from them."
     His followers cheered. They complained not at all about mov~
    faster. The donkeys complained, but then the donkeys always cc
    plained.
    
    Sharur picked his campsite that evening with great care. He wo
    not be satisfied until he found a small rise the caravan crew could (
    ily defend against an attack in the night and from which he could
    a long way in all directions. "The Imhursagut won't trouble us he
    Mushezib said, nodding vigorous approval. "They'll be able to
    we'd give them lumps if they tried it. That's the best way to
    someone from bothering you."
     "My thought exactly." Sharur looked toward the east. Fle sl
    what had to be the Imhursaggi camp, fires twinkling like medi
    bright stars, a surprising distance away. "We did walk them into
    ground this afternoon."

    




    worth much. You tell me if that isn't so."
    
    13ETWEEM TOG RIVCRS
    
     "Of course we did." Mushezib's massive chest inflated further.
    '~'Master merchant's son, if we can't outdo the Imhursagut, we aren't
    
     "Well, of course it is." Sharur had as much pride in his comrades,
    the men of his city, as did the guard captain. Walking back to the
    rest of the guards and the donkey handlers, he asked, "Does anyone
    have a ghost traveling with him?" He had never thought he would
    wish his bad-tempered grandfather had joined him on the caravan
    
    instead of staying back in Gibil, but he did now.
    
     Agum the guard looked up from his supper of dried fish and dates.
    "I do, master merchant's son. Uncle Buriash guarded a couple of
    
    cRrovans himself. so he lil-ps trpvelina this rond_"
    
     "That is good. That is very good," Sharur said. He had never
    known Agum's uncle, who therefore might as well not have existed
    as far as his senses were concerned. "I want him to go back to the
    camp of the Imhursagut and listen to their talk for a while, to see if
    he can spy out why their leader-why their god-changed his mind
    and decided to let us pass. He should also see if he can learn why
    their leader mocked our chances for good trading in Alashkurru."
     Agum cocked his head to one side, listening to the dead man's
    voice only he could hear. "He says he'll be glad to do that, master
    merchant's son. He doesn't like the Imhursagut any better than we
    do. In one of the wars we fought with them-1 don't quite know
    
    which-they stole all his sheep."
    
    "Thank you, Buriash, uncle to Agum," Sharur said. Even if he
    
    could not hear the ghost, the ghost could hear him.
    
    "He says he is leaving now," Agum reported. "He says he will
    
    return with the word vou need."
    
     Sharur was just sitting down to his own supper when Harharu came
    wandering over to him. The donkeymaster spat out a date pit, then
    said, "Sending the ghost out is well done, master merchant's son. Not
    many would have thought of it, and it may bring us much profit."
    He grimaced and chuckled wryly. "My own ghosts, I'm just as well
    
    pleased they're back in the city far away "
    
    "I was thinking the same thing about my grandfather," Sharur
    
    answered.

    




    48
    
    t)3,RRy -run-rLe0ove
    
     Harharu nodded. Because Sharur outranked him, he chose to corr
    round to what he had in mind by easy stages. "Would we not be wit
    to wonder whether what we do, others might do as well?"
     "Ah," Sharur said around a mouthful of salt fish. He saw whei
    Harharu was heading. "You may speak frankly with me, donkeyma
    ter. I shall not be offended, I promise."
     "Many people say that. A few even mean it." Harharu studied hit
    "Yes you may be one of those few. Very well, then: if the Imhursag
    think to send a ghost to spy on us, can we trap it?"
     "I suppose we can try," Sharur answered. "After tonight, it w
    not matter, for we shall be too far ahead of them for one of th(
    ghosts to catch us up. And now it will be hard for us to tell .
    Imhursaggi ghost from a curious ghost of the countryside, just as Bt
    iash may well seem such a ghost to them."
     "What you say is true, master merchant's son," Harharu agrec
    "And yet-"
     "And yet," Shatur echoed. He tugged at his beard. "It might
    done. A ghost from Imhursag will bear the scent, so to speak,
    Enimhursag, where a ghost of the countryside will not."
     "It is so," Harharu said. "If you can use this difference withc
    offending the ghosts and demons and gods who make this land th
    home-"
     "I shall take great care, donkeymaster-believe me in that regar,
    Sharur said, and tugged at his beard again. "I think it can be doi
    You are right. I do not want to offend the unseen things here. I sl~
    make a point of letting them know we do not claim this coun
    forever, only for a night."
     "Ah, very good," Harharu said. "Any man would know you
    your father's son by your resourcefulness."
     "You are kind to a young man." Sharur inclined his head in poll
    gratitude.
     Setting a small pot on the ground out where the light from
    fires grew dim, he walked around the encampment, chantir~g,
    night, let the land in this circle belong to the men who follow Engi
    Until the rising of the sun, let the land in this circle belong to
    men who follow Engibil. Tonight, let Engibil protect the land in i
    circle. Until the rising of the sun, let Engibil protect the land in i

    




    BETWEElM TOE RIVCRS
    
    49
    
    circle. Tonight, let Engibil ward off and drive away Enimhursag and
    the things of Enimhursag from the land in this circle. Until the rising
    of the sun, let Engibil ward off and drive away Enimhursag and the
    things of Enimhursag from the land in this circle."
     On he went, slowly, ceremoniously: "Before we, the men who fol-
    low Engibil, encamped here, the land in this circle belonged to the
    unseen things that dwell here always. After we, the men who follow
    Engibil, depart hence with the rising of the sun, the land in this circle
    shall again belong to the unseen things that dwell here always. We,
    the men who follow Engibil, seek only our god's protection this one
    night for the land in this circle."
     He repeated his prayer and his promise the prayer was for the night
    only over and over again, until he approached the spot from which
    he had begun the circle. Continuing to chant, he peered around and
    finally spied the pot he had used to mark his beginning point. With
    a sigh of relief, he stepped over it and walked on for a few more paces,
    making certain the circle was complete.
     "That is a good magic, master merchant's son," Mushezib said
    when Sharur walked back to the fires. "May we have much profit
    from it."
     "May it be so," Sharur said. His own prayer was that the magic
    would prove altogether unnecessary, that the Imhursagut would
    never think to send a ghostly spy to his camp. He would not know
    one way or the other, for he could hardly hope to sense the spirit of
    a man or woman with whom he had not been acquainted in life.
     He turned to Agum. "Has the ghost of your Uncle Buriash returned
    from the Imhursaggi camp?"
     "No, master merchant's son," the guard replied. "But he wouldn't
    be back yet anyhow. He has to go there from here, and then here
    from there, and he'll want to listen a good long while in between
    times. I don't expect him till after I go to sleep." He grinned at
    Sharur. "He'll yell in my ear then, never fear."
     Sharur nodded. "He sounds like my grandfather. Good enough.
    When he does come back, you wake me. I shall want to know what
    he says as soon as he says it. Why did Enimhursag change his caravan
    leader's mind?"
         I obev vou like a father," Agum promised.

    




    50
    
    b~,-RRY TURTLe0ovcs
    
     But Sharur woke only with morning twilight the next day. Angri
    he huff ied over to Agum. The guard was already up and about, w
    a worried expression on his face. "I would have wakened you, mas
    merchant's son, of course I would, he said. "But Uncle Buriash ne
    came back. I finally went to sleep myself, sure he'd wake me wh
    he returned, but he never did."
     "Where is he, then? Where can he be?" Sharur uneasily too
    eastw*d, back toward the camp of the Imhursagut.
     "I thought-1 was hoping-the circle you made last night mi
    have kept him away," Agum said.
     Sharur frowned. "I don't see why it should have. Your uncle's gh
    is no enemy to Engibil, no friend to Enimhursag."
     "No, of course not," Agum said. "Still, I did not want to go beyo
    the circle and maybe break it to find out if he was waiting there
    he is, I'll hear about it soon enough." His chuckle sounded nervo
    "First time in a while I'll be glad to have the old vulture yelling
    me, let me tell you."
     "I know what you mean." Sharur slapped the guard on the ba
    "The circle will break of itself when Shumukin brings the sun
    into the sky. Then Buriash can harangue you to his heart's conte
     The sun rose. The caravan headed off toward the west once m
    But Uncle Buriash did not return to Agum when the circle of ma
    was broken. Agum never heard Uncle Buriash's voice again. All t
    day, and for days to come, Sharur kept looking back in the direct
    of the caravan from Imhursag. What he felt was something unco
    monly like fear.
    
    The land rose and, rising, grew rough. Streams dwindled. Near th
    a few farmers scratched out a meager living. The land a little fart
    from them could have been brought under the plow, too, had any
    dug canals out to it. Not enough people lived along the stream
    make the work worthwhile.
     Instead, herders drove large flocks of cattle and sheep-larger t
    any in crowded Kudurru-through the grass and brush that g
    without irrigation. Lean, rough-looking men, they watched the
    avan with hungry eyes. Guards and donkey handlers and Sharur h

    




              'b C
    134STWEEM T = RiLVERS
    
    self always went armed. Thanks to Mushezib, the guards acted as
    tough and swaggering as the herdsmen, and so had no trouble with
    them.
     "You can't let them think you're afraid of 'em," Mushezib said to
    Sharur one evening. "If they get that idea into their heads, they'll
    jump on you like a lion on a lame donkey."
     "Yes, I've seen that," Sharur said. "The Alashkurrut are the same
    way." His eyes went to the west. This country blended almost seam-
    lessly with the foothills of the Alashkurru Mountains. He sighed.
    "Another few days of traveling and only a few folk, the folk who
    make a habit of trading with us, will speak our language. The rest
    will use the words of the Alashkurrut."
     Mushezib used a word of the Alashkurrut, a rude word. He laughed
    a loud, booming laugh. "A guard doesn't need to know much more.
    'Beer. ''Woman. ''Bread,' maybe. 'How much?"No, too much.'Those
    do the job."
     "I suppose so." Almost, Sharur wished he could live a life as simple
    as Mushezib's. When all went well, the guard captain had little more
    to do than walk all day and, when evening came, have someone give
    him food and beer and silver besides, so he could buy a woman's
    company for the night or whatever else he happened to want. To a
    peasant living in drudgery the whole year through, that would seem
    a fine life indeed. It had seemed so to Mushezib, who had made it
    real for himself, just as at the beginning of days the great gods had
    made the world real from the thought in their minds.
     For Sharur, though, the reality Mushezib had made from his
    thought was not enough. The guard captain cared about no one past
    imself, about nothing more than getting through one day after an-
    other. When he died, his ghost would not remain long upon the
    earth, for who would remember him well enough for the spirit's voice
    to linger in his ears?
     S arur walked down to the edge of the little nameless stream
    (nameless to him, anyhow; whatever god or goddess dwelt in it had
    never drawn his notice) and scooped up a handful of muddy clay.
    Mushezib followed, saying, "What are you doing, master merchant's
    son? Oh, I see-making a tablet. What have you found here that you
    need to write?"
    
    Mik

    




    52
    
    bARRY TURTLCOOVE
    
     "I'm practicing, that's all," Sharur answered. "I practice with
    spear, I practice with the sword, and I practice with the stylus, to
    So speaking, he took the stylus from his belt and incised on the s
    clay the three complex squiggles that made up Mushezib's name.
    guard captain, who could neither read nor write, watched with
    comprehension.
     Hear me, all gods and demons of this land, Sharur thought. I m
    no harm to the man whose name I erase. He crumbled the tablet in
    hands, then washed them clean of mud in the running water.
     "Didn't the writing come out the way you wanted it?" Mushe
    asked.
     "It was not everything it could have been, Sharur replied. Mu
    ezib's life was like that: a tablet that would crumble and weather a
    be gone all too soon after writing covered its surface. Sharur wan
    the tablet of his life to go through the fire after it was done, to dese
    to be baked hard as kiln-dried brick and so to have the writing o
    preserved forever in the memories of Gibil and the Giblut.
     Mushezib had his own ideas about that, though. Laughing aga
    he said, "What is everything it could be?" Sharur, to his own e
    barrassment, found no good reply for the guard captain.
    
    The demon sprawled in the roadway. It looked like a large wild
    with wings. Its eyes glowed with green fire. It lashed its tail, as if
    suggest it had a sting there like a scorpion's.
     At the sight of it, Harharu had halted the caravan. He did nothi
    more. Doing more was not his responsibility but Sharur's. Sha
    approached until he was almost-but, he made sure, not quite
    within reach of that lashing tail. Bowing, he spoke in the langua
    of the mountains: "You are not a demon of the land of Kudurru. Y
    are not a demon of the land between the rivers. You are a demon
    Alashkurru. You are a demon of the high country. I know you, dem
    of the high country."
     "I am a demon of the high country." The demon sprang into t
    air and turned a backwards somersault, for all the world like a pla
    kitten. "You are one of the new people, the people from afar,

    




    people who travel, the people who bring strange things to Alash
    
     "I am one of those people," Sharur agreed. Men from Kudurru had
    been trading with the Alashkurrut for generations. To the demon,
    though they were the new people. They would likely be the new people
    
    five hundred years hence as well. The demon showed no sign o
    moving aside. It lolled in the sunlight, stretching bonelessly. "Why
    do you block our path?" Sharur asked. "Why do you not let us travel
    Why do you not let us bring our new things"-he would not cat
    
     "You are the new people," the demon repeated. It cocked its head
    to one side and studied Sharur. "You are one of the new people even
    among the new people. You listen to your own voice. You do not
    
     "That is not true," Sharur replied. "Engibil is my god. Engibi i
    my city's god. All in Gibit worship Engibil and set fine offerings in
    
     "You play with words." The demon's tail sprang out, like a snake.
    Sharur was glad he had kept his distance from it. "Your own self is
    in the front of your spirit. Your god's voice is in the back of your
    spirit. You are one of the new people even among the new people.'
    By its tone, the demon might have accused him of lying with his
    
     "I do not understand all you say." Shatur was lying. He knew he
    was lying. The demon laid the same charge against him and his fellow
    Giblut as Enimhursag had done. He took a deep breath, then went
    on, "It does not matter. We come to Alashkurru to trade. We come
    in peace. We have always come in peace. The wanakes, the chief-
    
    tai s, of Alashkurru profit by our coming. Let us pass."
    
    Lash, lash, lash went the demon's tail. "You trade more than vou
    
    know, man of the new people even among the new people. When
    you talk with the wanakes the chieftains of Alashkurru, you infect
    them with your new ways, as an unclean whore infects a man with
    
    a disease of the private parts. There are wanakes, chieftains, of Alash-
    kurru who have spoke with great wickedness, saying, 'Let us put our
    own selves in the front of our spirits. Let us put our gods' voices in

    




    54
    
    bz"RRY TU11zTLC00VC=
    
    the back of our spirits.' The gods of Alashkurru grow angry at hearir
    such talk, at hearing such thoughts."
     "I trade metal. I trade cloth. I trade medicine. I trade wine," Shan
    said stolidly. Under the hot sun, the sweat that ran from his armpi
    and down his back was cold as the snow atop the highest mountaii
    of Alashkurru. "If I speak of Engibil to the wanakes, the chieftair
    of Alashkurru, it is only to praise his greatness. Let us pass."
     "It shall not be," the demon said. "The gods of Alashkurru a
    angry. The men of Alashkurru are angry. Go back, man of the n(
    people even among the new people. You shall do nothing here. Y,
    shall gain nothing here. Go back. Go back. Go back."
     Sharur licked his lips. "I will not hear these words from a dem.,
    in the road. I will hear them from the lips of the wanakes, the chi,
    tains, of Alashkurru." The demon sprang into the air again, this til
    with a screech of rage. Sharur spoke quickly: "I will not hear th(
    words from a demon in the road. I know you, demon of the hi
    country. Illuyankas, I know your name." He hated to try to coml
    a foreign spirit, but saw no other choice.
     The demon Illuyankas let out another screech, this one a bubU,
    cry of dismay. Off it flew, as fast as its wings could take it. Know
    its name, Sharur could have worked great harm on it.
     The donkey handlers and caravan guards clapped their hands
    shouted in delight at the way their leader had routed the dern
    "Well done, master merchant's son," Mushezib said. "That ugly th
    will trouble us no more."
     "No, I suppose not," Sharur said absently. He noticed that Harb
    seemed less jubilant than the rest of the caravan crew, and as
    him, "Donkeymaster, do you not speak the language of the Ah
    kurrut?"
     1 do, master merchant's son", Harharu said. "I do not speal
    elegantly as your distinguished self, but I understand and make m)
    understood."
     "Then you understood what the demon Illuyankas, the demo
    ill omen, and I had to say to each other," Sharur persisted. At
    donkeymaster's nod, he went on, "The demon's warning comes c
    to what the men of Imhursag told us." Harharu nodded once ly

    




    T-4, W
    
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    55
    
    even less happily than he had the first time. Sharur said, "If the men
    and gods of Alashkurru will not treat with us, what shall we do?"
     "Here I have no answer, master merchant's son," Harharu said. "I
    have never heard of the Alashkurrut refusing trade~ This I will tell
    you: they have never refused trade before, not in all the years Gibil
    has sent caravans to their country."
     "I have not heard of their doing so, either," Sharur said. "Perhaps
    it is a ploy to force us to lower our prices."
     "Perhaps it is," Harharu said. Neither of them sounded as if he
    believed it.
    
    Tuwanas was the first Alashkurri mining center to which the caravan
    came. By that time, Sharur's spirits had revived. The peasants on the
    road to Tuwanas had been friendly enough. None of them had refused
    to trade bread or pork-it was a good swine-raising country-or beer
    to him and his men. Their gods, whose little outdoor wooden shrines
    were nothing like the great brick temples of the gods of Kudurru, had
    not cried out in protest. Sharur took that as a good omen.
     He led the caravan up to Tuwanas in the midst of a rainstorm.
    The guards who were making their first journey into the Alashkurru
    Mountains looked up into the heavens with fearful eyes, muttering
    to themselves at what seemed the unnatural spectacle of rain in sum-
    
     Shatur reassured them, saying, "I have seen this before. It is the
    way of the gods in this part of the world. See-even though Tuwanas
    ies by a stream, the folk here have dug but few canals to bring water
    ftom the stream to the fields. They know they will get rain to keep
    their crops alive."
     "Rain in summertime." Agum shook his head, which made some
    of the summertime rain fly out from his beard, as if from a wet dog's
    coat, and more drip off the end of his nose. "No stranger than any-
    thing else around these parts, I suppose." He pointed ahead to Tu-
    wanas, "If this isn't the funniest-looking place I've ever seen, I don't
    know what is."
     There Sharur was inclined to agree with him. By the standards of

    




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    03,RRY TURTLe0ove
    
    Kudurru, it was neither a village nor a proper city. The best word ft
    it, Sharur supposed, was "fortress." He would not have wanted t
    take the place, not when its wall was built of great gray blocks (
    stone so huge, he wondered if they had been set in place by god
    not men.
     Sighing, Harharu. said, "The Alashkurrut are lucky to have
    much fine stone with which to build. Mud brick would be nothii
    but mud in this climate."
     "I see," Agum. said. "Even the peasants live in stone houses her
    Does the straw they put on the roofs really keep out the rain?"
     "Better than you'd think," Sharur told him. "The peasants and d
    potters and the leatherworkers and the smiths and such live outsi~
    the walls, as you see. They take shelter inside when the other Alas
    kurrut raid Tuwanas."
     "The smiths," Harharu murmured.
     "Yes," Sharur said. No matter what Enimhursag and the dem,
    Illuyankas had told him, he had hope for the smiths. In Alashkui
    no less than in Kudurru, they were men of the new, full of t
    power control over metal gave them, a power so raw it was not
    divine.
     "Who lives inside the walls of Tuwanas, then?" Agum. asked.
     "The Alashkurri gods, of'course," Sharur answered, and the ca
    van guard nodded. "A few merchants have their houses in there, t(
    But most of the space the gods don't use goes to Huzziyas the war.
    and his soldiers."
     "Wanax." Agum. shaped the foreign word, then laughed. "It ho
    funny sound."
     "It has a funny meaning, too," Sharur said. "There is no word
    our speech that means just the same thing. It's halfway betw(
    4 ensi'-because the Alashkurri gods do speak through the wanake!
    and 'bandit chief.' A wanax will use his soldiers to rob his nei~
    bors-"
     "-And his own peasants," Harharu. put in.
     "Yes, and his own peasants, Sharur agreed. "He'll use his soldi
    as I say, to make himself rich. Sometimes I think a wanax wc
    sooner steal one keshlu's weight of gold than put the same amo
    of trouble into getting two by honest work."

    




     Agum clutched his spear more tightly. "I see why you have guards     Jim
    along, master merchant's son."
     "Huzziyas has more soldiers than you could fight," Sharur said. "So
    does every other wanax. Sometimes, though, when the wanakes
    aren't robbing one another, a band of soldiers will get bored and start
    robbing on their own. That is why I have guards in the Alashkurru
    Mountains."
     As they talked, they squelched up the narrow track between
    thatch-roofed stone huts toward the one gate in Tuwanas' frowning
    wall. Most of the men were out in the fields-rain made weeding
    easy-but women and children stood in doorways and stared at the
    newcomers, as did artisans who labored inside their homes.
     In looks, they were most of them not far removed from the folk of
    Kudurru. Men here, though, did not curl their beards, but let them
    grow long and unkempt. Men and women put on more clothes than
    they would have done in Kudurru, men wearing knee-length tunics
    of wool or leather and the women draping themselves in lengths of
    cloth that reminded Sharur of nothing so much as oversized blankets.
     And, now and again, more than clothes and hair styles reminded
    the caravan crew they were in a foreign land. Sharur heard one of
    the donkey handlers wonder aloud if a striking woman with coppery
    hair was truly a woman or a demon. "Don't say that in a language
    she can understand, the caravanmaster remarked, "or you're liable
    to find out."
     The guards at the gateway leading into the fortress of Tuwanas
                                                      M
    
    stood under the overhang to stay out of the rain. But for their wild,
    shaggy beards, they would have fit in well enough among Kimash the
    lugal's guardsmen. Sharur recognized a couple who spoke the lan-
    guage of Kudurru. One of those guards recognized him at about the
    same time. "It is Sharur son of Ereshguna, from the city between the
    
    13C-TWCCN TbC RIVCRS
    
    57
    
     "It is," Sharur agreed. "It is Nenassas son of Nerikkas, of Tuwanas.
    I greet you, Nenassas son of Nerikkas." Nenassas hadn't greeted him,
    merely acknowledged his existence. He did not take that as a good
    sign.
     Nenassas still did not greet him, but asked, "VAat do you bring
    to Tuwanas, Sharur son of Ereshguna?"

    




    58
    
    I)ARRY TURTIE00V
    
     I bring swords and knives and spearheads of finest bronze," Sh
    said, pointedly adding, "such have always delighted the heart of
    ziyas son of Wamnas, the mighty wanax of Tuwanas. I bring
    wine of dates, to delight the heart of Huzziyas in a different
    strong medicines"-he gestured toward Rukagina-"and many o
    fine things."
     Nenassas and the other guards put their heads together and ta
    in low voices in their own language. Sharur caught only a coup
    phrases, enough to understand they were trying to figure out wh
    do with him, and with the caravan. Their attitude alone would
    told him that much. He kept his face an impassive mask. Behin
    he worried. They should have been delighted to greet a caravan
    Kudurru.
     He got the idea they would have been delighted to greet
    caravans from Kudurru. A caravan from Gibil, however ...
     At last, Nenassas said, "What you tell me is true, Sharur so
    Ereshguna. Your wares have delighted the heart of mighty Huzz
    Still, that was in the days before our gods spoke to us of the
    between the rivers called Gibil."
     I do not seek to trade my swords and knives and spearheads
    the gods of Tuwanas," Sharur replied. I seek to trade them witl
    mighty wanax of Tuwanas, and with his clever merchants."
     "See!" one of the other Alashkurri guards exclaimed in his
    language. "This is what the gods warned us against. He cares no
    for them."
     "That is not so," Sharur said in the same tongue. I respec
    gods of Tuwanas, the gods of Alashkurru. But, Was son of L
    they are not my gods. My god is Engibil, and after him the other
    of Kudurru."
     Udas seemed disconcerted at being understood. The guard
    their heads together again. Sharur heard one phrase that pleased
    very much: "Those swords do delight the heart of the wanax."
    argument followed. A couple of times, the guards hefted the s
    they were carrying, as if about to use them on one another. Fi
    Nenassas said, "You and your caravan may pass into Tuwanas, S
    son of Ereshguna. This matter is too great for us to decide. Let
    in the hands of the mighty wanax and the gods."

    




    73ETWEEN TbE! RIVERS
    
     "For this I thank you, Nenassas son of Nerikkas, though it grieves
    me to enter this place without your greeting," Sharur replied. But he
    got no greeting from Nenassas, only a brusque wave ahead. Scowling,
    Sharur led his men and donkeys into Tuwanas.
    
    "See what I have here." Sharur set out a row of swords on top of a
    wooden table. In the torchlight, the polished bronze gleamed almost
    as red as blood. "These are all of fine, hard metal, made strong with
    the tin we of Gibil bring in at great risk and great expense. They will
    cut notches in the blade of a copper sword until it is better used as
    a saw than as a weapon. Alashkurru is a land of warriors, a land of
    heroes. No one will want to be without such fine swords. Is it not so,
    Sitawandas son of Anawandas, my friend, my colleague?"
     Sitawandas put Sharur in mind of an Alashkurri version of his own
    father-a large, solid man who knew his own mind and who was
    intent on wringing the most he could from any deal. He picked up
    one of the swords Shatur had taken from their woolen wrappings.
    His grip, his stance, showed he knew how to handle it.
     "This is a fine blade to hold, Sharur son of Ereshguna," he said. "I
    would have looked for nothing less from you." Gently, he set down
    the sword and took from his wrist a copper bracelet. "May I test the
    hardness of the metal, to be certain it is as you say?"
     Sharur bowed again. "I am your slave. If the buyer is not pleased
    and satisfied in all regards, how can there be a sale?"
     Sitawandas took up the sword once more, using the edge against
    the bracelet as if he were slicing bread. He stared at the groove he
    had cut in the copper and said, "Yes, man of Gibil, this bronze is as
    fine as any I have ever seen.
     "Many warriors will want swords like these," Sharur said. "They
    will give you silver and gold for them. Do I ask silver and gold for
    them? No-only copper and copper ore, as you well know."
     "I know the terms on which we have dealt, yes." Sitawandas put
    down the sword again, as carefully as he had before. "And you speak
    truly, Sharur son of Ereshguna: a warrior of Alashkurru would be
    proud to carry such a blade in his sheath." He let out a long, deep
    sigh. Sharur thought he saw tears in his eyes. "Truly I am sorry, man
    
    1)

    




    I
    
    60
    
    b3,RRy TuRTLeOove
    
    of Gibil. It is as you say. I could gain gold and silver for such s
    I have copper and copper ore in plenty in my storehouse, to
    the man who could give such swords to me. But it shall not
    can not be."
     Sharur's heart sank. "I understand the words you say, Sitaw
    son of Anawandas, but not the meaning concealed within t
    He did not, he would not, let the Alashkuff i merchant see his d
     "For myself, I would like to gain these swords," Sitawanda
    "I am forbidden from trading with you, however. I am forbidde
    trading with any man of Gibil."
     "Who forbids you? Is it Huzziyas, the might wanax of Tuw
    Sharur set a finger by the side of his nose and winked. "Let one
    two blades, three blades come into the hands of Huzziyas for n
    for no silver, and surely you shall be able to do as you pleas
    the rest of them."
     Sitawandas sighed again. "Huzziyas the mighty wanax wo
    proud to have such blades. This cannot be denied." The gu-,
    the gates of Tuwanas had said the same thing. Sitawandas we
    "But, Sharur son of Ereshguna, Huzziyas the mighty wanax is
    forbidden than I from trading with you. I pray I shall not be pu
    even for speaking to you as I do, though that has never been fo
    prohibited for us."
     "Once a sword is set in the hands of a warrior, he will nc
    whence it first came," Sharur said. "Once a knife is set in a
    on the belt of a warrior, he will not care whence it first came.
    a spearhead is mounted on a shaft, he will not care whence
    came. If you have these things, Sitawandas son of Anawand
    can trade them to your countrymen at a profit. No one will
    this a blade of Gibil, Sitawandas, or is this a blade of Imhursag
    only question you will hear is, 'Will this blade help me slay
    emies, Sitawandas?' "
     The Alashkurri merchant licked his lips. "You tempt me,
    Gibil, as a honeycomb lying forgotten on a table tempts asm
    who is hungry and wants something sweet. But what happe
    small boy when he snatches up that honeycomb?"
     "Nothing, often enough," Sharur answered with a grin. "D
    never steal honeycomb when you were a boy?"

    




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    61
    
     "'As often as I thought I could get away with it," Sitawandas said,
    also smiling. "But sometimes my father was watching, or my grand-
    father, or a family ghost, though I knew it not. And when that was
    S05 1 ate no honeycomb, but got a beating instead, or ate of it and
    got a beating afterwards. And sometimes the honeycomb lay on the
    table and I spied my father or my grandfather standing close by, or a
    family ghost spoke to me of some other thing. And when that befell,
    I stole no honeycomb that day, for fear of the beating I would surely
    earn.
     "I do not understand," Sharur said, though he did, only too well.
     Sitawandas said, "You are not a fool, Sharur son of Ereshguna. You
    are not a blind man." Sharur said nothing. Sitawandas sighed. "Very
    well. Let it be as you wish. I shall explain for you. Huzziyas the mighty
    wanax stands here for my father. If I gain these blades from you, he
    will chastise me. The gods of Alashkurru stand here for my grand-
    father, or for a family ghost. If I gain these blades from you, they may
    see without my knowing, and they will chastise me."
  There it was. Sharur could not fail to understand that, no matter
      much he might wish to do so. "Why does the wanax, mighty
      hate me?" he cried. "Why do the gods of Alashkurru hate
     77,tyas,
    me?"
     Sitawandas set a hand on his thigh. "I do not think mighty Huz-
    ziyas the wanax hates you, Sharur son of Ereshguna. I think he would
    have these things of you, if only he could. But, just as a father chas-
    tises a small boy, so also may a grandfather chastise a father."
     "You say the gods of Alashkurru will chastise Huzziyas, the mighty
    wanax, if he gains the swords and spearheads with which to defeat
    his enemies?" Sharur asked. "Do your gods then hate Huzziyas?"
     "Never let that be said," Sitawandas exclaimed, and made a sign
    the Alashkurrut used when a man of Kudurru would have covered
    the eyes of his god's amulet to keep the deity from seeing. "But the
    gods fear the wanax will walk the path you men of Gibil have taken.
    When the gods declare a thing shall not be, the man who stands
    against them will not stand long."
     That was true. Sharur knew it was true. Kimash the lugal ruled
    in Gibil not by opposing Engibil but by appeasing him, by bribing
    him to look the other way and flattering him so he thought his

    




    62
    
    b.xRRy TuRTLc-Oovc
    
    power was as great as it had ever been. No man could directl
    pose a god.
     Indirectly, though- "Suppose-merely suppose, mind-I we
    lose some of these swords at such-and-such a place: suppose a do
    handler were careless, for instance, so they fell off the beast.
    suppose again, a few days later, that you were careless enough to
    some ingots of copper at some other place. If I chanced to find
    there, I do not think I would ever tell you about it."
     "No, eh?" Sitawandas licked his lips. He knew what Sharu
    saying, sure enough. Sharur made himself stand calm, stand ea
    if, since they were discussing things that might not be, those t
    were unimportant. Sweat sprang out on Sitawandas's forehead
    was tempted to do business by not seeming to do business; S
    could see as much. But at last, convulsively, the Alashkurri merc
    shook his head. "I cannot do this thing, Sharur son of Ereshgu
    dare not do this thing. Should my gods take notice of the doi
    No." He shook his head again.
     "However you like." Sharur spoke carelessly. "If you do not
    what might be found in out-of-the-way places-"
     "I do not care?" Sitawandas broke in. "Never let that be
    either." He let out a long, shuddering sigh. "Treating with you
    man of Gibil, I understand better and better why the gods o
    people have come to fear you so."
     "Is it so?" Sharur shrugged, outwardly careless still. "Men ar
    ways wise to fear gods. I cannot see how gods, with their power
    wise to fear men."
     "There-do you see? You can speak well, when you care to.
    when you care to, you can also speak in ways that frighten men
    gods alike." Sitawandas brushed the sweat from his face with a
    forearm. "Most frightening of all is that you have no notion
    frightening you are."
     "Now you speak in riddles, Sitawandas son of Anawandas." S
    made as if to start rewrapping the weapons he had displayed,
    paused one last time. "Are you sure you will not trade with me
     "It is not that I will not." Sitawandas paced back and forth a
    the stone-enclosed chamber. "It is that I dare not."

    




    BeTWEEM T C RIVERS
    
     "Then who may?" Sharur demanded. "Has Huzziyas, mighty wanax
    of Tuwanas, the power to do with me as his people and mine have
    done with each other in peace and for common profit for genera-
    
    tions?"
    
    Sitawandas said, "Sharur son of Ereshguna, I do not know."
    
    s
    s
    e
    r
    t
    I
    
    e
    
    d,
    e,
    
    al-
     re
    
    ut,
    nd
    iry
    ow
    
    rur
    en
    
    ross
    
    Even being allowed to go into Huzziyas's palace and see the wanax
    took longer and cost more than Sharur had expected. The longer he
    stayed in Tuwanas doing no real business, the more he begrudged
    every bangle, every broken bit of silver he paid out for nothing better
    than living from day to day. Paying to gain access to a man who
    should have been elad to see him-who had been glad to see him
    
    the year before-galled him even more.
    
     In the end, with patience and bribery, he did obtain an audience
    with Huzziyas. As he strode up to the massive doorway to the palace,
    he reflected that that was not the ideal name for the building. just
    
    as Tuwanas was more nearly fortress than city, so the wanax's resi-
    dence was more nearly citadel than palace. The stone walls were
    strong and thick, the only windows slits better suited to archery than
    vision, the roof sheathed with slates on which fire would not catch.
     Many of Huzziyas's guardsmen carried bronze swords Sharur knew
    
    they had got from him. They wore copper greaves and breastplates
    
    and caps, and had their shields faced with copper, too. Copper was
    softer than bronze, but easily available here in Alashkurru. Huzziyas's
    men used armor far more lavishly than did Sharur's, or even Kimash's
    
    ouards back in Gibil
    
     Some of the guardsmen greeted Sharur like an old friend, remem-
    bering the fine weapons he and his family had brought to Tuwanas
    over the years. Some would not speak to him at all, remembering the
    admonitions of their gods. Two of the silent ones led him through
    the narrow halls of the palace and up to the high seat of the wanax.
    
    thought he would have been likelier to meet Huzziyas in a
    

    




    ide ambuscade than as wanax of Tuwanas. Tuwanas' ruler below
    
    the gods was a tough fifty-five, gray thatching his hair and shaggy
    beard but his arms and chest still thick with muscle. Scars seamed
    
    0

    




    64
    
    b.XRRY TURTLe0ove
    
    those arms, and the bits of leg showing between tunic hem an
    top, and his rugged, big-nosed face. One of them barely miss
    left eye.
     After the bows and the polite phrases required of him were
    Sharur spoke as bluntly as he dared: "Mighty wanax, what
    done to offend, that you and yours will not buy what I have
    even when buying it works more to your advantage than min
     "Understand, Sharur son of Ereshguna, you have not offend
    personally," Huzziyas replied. They both used the tongue of Ku
    in which the wanax was fluent. "Had you offended me pers
    you would not be treating with me now. You would be lying d
    a ditch, the dogs and the kites and the ravens quarreling ove
    bones." He sounded more like a bandit chieftain than the ru
    city, too.
     "Do I understand you rightly, mighty wanax?" Sharur aske
    you say I have not offended? If I have not offended, what kee
    from trading for the fine wares I have brought from the land be
    the rivers?"
     Huzziyas's eyes glinted, "I did not say you had not offende
    of Kudurru, man of Gibil." He made that last into an insult.
    you had not offended me. Were I the only one who spoke
    wanas, we would trade, you and 1. But you and your city ha
    He paused, looking for the right words.
     "Angered your gods?" Sharur suggested bitterly.
     "No." The wanax shook his head. "You and your city hav
    something worse. You and your city have frightened the gods
    wanas, the gods of Alashkurru. Unless my ears mistake me, y
    your city have frightened the gods of Kudurru, the gods of th
    between the Yarmuk and the Diyala."
     "The gods of my country are no concern to you, mighty w
    Sharur said. "And 1, mortal worm that I am, I should be of no c
    to the gods of Tuwanas, the gods of Alashkurru. Neither I
    city is a foe to Tuwanas, to Alashkurru. I want only to trade in
    and to return in peace to my c ity."
     Huzziyas looked now this way, now that. Sharur could no
    looking this way and that, too. He saw nothing. He wondere
    Huzziyas saw, or what he looked to see. The wanax said, "For

    




    13CTWCCN TJ)C RIVERS
    
    65
    
    I am fain to believe you. My gods still fear you lie. They fear I will
    become like you, a liar before the gods."
     He glanced around again. Now Sharur understood what he was
    doing: he was trying to find out whether his gods were paying close
    attention to him at this particular moment. Sharur smiled. If Huzziyas
    had not yet become what the gods of Alashkurru feared, he was on
    the edge of it. He wanted the swords and spearheads and knives
    Sharur could trade to him. Unless Sharur misread him as if he were
    an unfamiliar sign pressed into clay, he would not be overfussy about
    how he got them, either.
     "I am not a liar before the gods," Sharur declared, as he had to do.
    As he had so often on this journey, he declared his loyalty to Engibil.
    The more emphatic his declarations got, the less truth they seemed
    to hold.
     "As I say, I am fain to believe you," Huzziyas answered. "But if my
    gods will not believe, what can I do? My hands are tied." His mouth
    twisted. His gods still held him in the palm of their hands. He wanted
    to slip free, but had not found a way. So Igigi's father must have
    felt-he had been ensi to Engibil, but had not managed to become
    lugal, to rule in his own right.
     Casually, as if it had just occurred to him, Sharur proposed to
    Huzziyas what he had proposed to Sitawandas: trading as if by acci-
    dent. The wanax of Tuwanas sucked in his breath. Sharur watched
    the torchlight sparkle in his eyes. Sitawandas had lacked the nerve
    to thwart the will of the gods of Alashkurru. Huzziyas, now ...
     Huzziyas twitched on the high seat. He looked surprised, then
    grimaced, and then, as if he had given up resisting whatever new
    force filled him, his face went blank and still. Only his lips moved:
    "Man of Gibil, what you say cannot be. Man of Gibil, what you say
    shall not be. The gods of Tuwanas, the gods of Alashkurru have
    declared the men of Tuwanas, the men of Alashkurru shall not trade
    with you. The men of Tuwanas, the men of Alashkurru shall heed
    what their gods have declared. 1, Huzziyas, mighty wanax of Tuwanas,
    have spoken."
     But it was not Huzziyas who had spoken, or not altogether Huz-
    ziyas, The hair on Sharur's arms and at the back of his neck prickled
    up in awe. The wanax had been wise to wonder whether his gods
    
    i

    




    I
    66
    
    b3,RRY TURTLc=Oovc
    
    were watching him. They were, and had kept him from breaki
    of their will. Back in Gibil, Engibil had been content to let Igi
    his son and grandson rule for themselves alone. The gods h(
    tended to stay unchallenged lords of this land.
     "I am sorry, mighty wanax," Sharur said softly.
     Little by little, Huzziyas came back to himself. "It cann
    Sharur son of Ereshguna," he said, echoing the words the go
    spoken through him. "You see why it cannot be." The gest
    began might have been one of apology. If it was, he never fi
    it. He looked angry: the gods were still watching what he did
    he said. He sighed. He was not a lugal, free-even if only na
    free-to chart his own course. With the gods of his country so
    ful, he would never be a lugal.
     Sharur did not care about that, not for its own sake. He
    about trading. "Mighty wanax, will your gods hearken to me if I
    to them face to face, to show them my wares and to show the
    not dangerous to them?"
     Huzziyas cocked his head to one side, listening to the gods
    wanas, to the gods of the Alashkurru Mountains. Sharur
    power in the chamber, pressing down on him as if with great A
    Then it lifted. The wanax said, "They think you brave. They
    you a fool. They will heat you." After a moment, he seemed to
    for himself rather than the gods: "They will not listen to you.
    
    Like the wanax, the gods of Tuwanas, the gods of Alashkurru
    in what was to Sharur's eyes a citadel: a formidable tower o
    stone. He had visited that temple on his previous journeys t
    wanas, to offer the gods incense in thanks for successful trad
    had no success for which to thank them now, and did not know
    to offer to gain one.
     Huzziyas accompanied him to the temple. The wanax looke
    vous. True, the gods spoke to him and through him. But,the
    knew he pined for the freedom Sharur and the rest of the m
    Gibil enjoyed. The priests who served the temple and the t
    alone looked at Huzziyas from the comers of their eyes. Wha
    the gods said of him to them? By those glances, nothing good.

    




    IR11
    
    13CTWCCM TbC IVC S
    
     Tuwanas had no single tutelary deity who ruled its territory as his
    own, as did the cities of the land between the rivers. All the Alash-
    kurri gods were present here, though one of them, Tarsiyas, spoke
    with the loudest voice. His stone statue was armored in copper and
    held a bronze sword, making him look as much like a bandit as any
    
    of the humans who reverenced him
    
     Sharur bowed before that clumsy but fierce-looking image. "Tar-
    siyas, great god of this town, great god of this land, hear the words
    of Sharur son of Ereshguna, a foreigner, a man who has traveled long
    to come to Tuwanas, a man who wishes the folk of this land and the
    
    gods of this land only good."
    
     The stone lips of the statue moved. "Say what you will, Sharur son
    of Ereshguna. We have said we will hear you." The words resounded
    inside Sharur's head. He did not think he was hearing them with his
    ears, but directly with his mind, as if the god had set them there.
     He said, "You are generous, great god." Had Tarsiyas truly been
    
    generous, Sharur would not have had to beseech him so. But Sharur
    assumed the god was, like most gods of his acquaintance, vain. Like
    all gods, Tarsiyas was powerful. That was what made him a god. He
    had to be handled more carefully than a poisonous serpent, for he
    was more deadly Sharur pointed to the sword in Tarsiyas's right
    hand. "Is that not a fine blade, great god of this town, great god of
    
     "It is a fine blade," Tarsiyas agreed. "It is better than the blade
    bore before. Huzziyas the wanax gave it to me." The stone eyes o
    the statue fixed Huzzivas with a stare Sharur was vlad to see aimed
    
                               1)
     "I delight in giving the gods rich presents, Huzziyas said. Sharur
    almost burst out laughing. The wanax sounded like Kimash the lugal
    and no doubt wished his hypocrisy were as successful as Kimash's
     "Tarsiyas, great god of this town, great god of this land, do you
    
    "I do not, nor care," the god replied. "Huzziyas gained it; Huzziyas
    
     Again, Sharur fought to keep his face straight. Tarsiyas and the
    other gods of the Alashkurru Mountains might work to keep the men
    of Alashkurru under their rule, but thev were no less greedy about

    




    68
    
    b.XRRY TURTLCOOVC
    
    receiving presents from those men than was Engibil, back in th
    between the rivers. Sharur said, "Great god of this town, grea
    of this land, the sword with which you are well pleased, with
    I am glad you are well pleased, is a sword the smiths of the c
    Gibil have made, a sword the men of Gibil traded to Huzziy
    mighty wanax. And now you say-"
     He got no further than that. His head filled with a roar a
    thousand wild beasts of a hundred different kinds all bellowi
    once. The din in Huzziyas's head must have been worse; he gr(
    and clapped his hands to his ears. At last, the god's cry of rage t
    back down to words the two mortals could understand: "Wr
    Fool! You gave me a gift from the hands of men who set their
    at naught?"
     "We do not set our gods at naught," Sharur insisted stubbo
     And Huzziyas added, "Tarsiyas, great god of this town, grea
    of this land, my master, when I gave you this sword, you had no
    you did not want such work. No other god said he did not want
    work. No other goddess said she did not want such work. The
    being proper for giving, I gave with both hands. I did not stint. I
    of the finest I had."
     Tarsiyas's voice swelled to an unintelligible shout of fury
    more. The god clasped the sword in both stone hands and, in
    tion too quick for Sharur's eyes to follow, broke it over his
    knee. He hurled both pieces of the blade away from him; they ch
    off stone with bell-like notes.
     I reject this!" he cried, as those clatterings drew priests who s
    in wonder and terror at his unwonted activity. I reject all gifts
    Gibil. Let them be taken from my treasury. Let those of met
    melted. Let those not of metal be broken. I have spoken. As I
    spoken, it shall be. 1, a god, will it."
     This was worse than anything Sharur had imagined. He wish
    had never come to the temple. "Tarsiyas, great god of this town,
    god of this land, may I speak?" he asked.
     "Speak," the god said, an earthquake rumble of doom in his v
    "Tell your lies."
     I tell no lies, great god of this town, great god of this land," S
    said. "The gift Huzziyas the mighty wanax set in your hand pl

    




    arur
     sed
    
    13CTWEEM TOE RIVERS
    
    69
    
    you. If the gift be good, how can the giver who gave it with both
    hands, who gave it with open heart, be wicked? How can the smiths
    who made it with clever eye, with skilled fingers, be wicked?"
     "They made it of themselves, with no thought for the gods," Tar-
    
    siVas replied.
    
    "Smithery has no god, not yet; it is too young," Sharur said. "This
    
    is so in Kudurru, and it is so here."
    
     Huzziyas gave him a horrible took. Atter a moment, he understood
    why: the gods of Alashkurru were liable to try to forbid their men
    from working in metal at all. But that did not seem to be Tarsiyas's
    most urgent concern. The god said, "You take no thought for the
    
    gods your land does have."
    
     "That is not so," Sharur insisted. "The weavers of fine cloth rev-
    erence the goddess of the loom and the god of dyeing. The wine-
    makers worship Aglibabu, who makes dates become a brew to
    
    Plodden the ~eArr. The-"
    
     "They are the small gods," Tarsiyas said. Scorn filled the divine
    voice. "Even here, they have let themselves become men's servants
    as much as men's masters. But you men of Gibil would reduce your
    great gods to small gods, your small gods to demons, your demons to
    ghosts that chitter and flitter and are in a generation forgotten. The
    riches you gain in this world tempt you to forget the other world.
    You shall lead no one here astray. You shall lead no one here away
    from the path of the gods. As I have spoken, it shall be. 1, a god, will
    
    it. )I
    
     "But-" Sharur began
     Huzziyas took him by the arm and pulled him away from Tarsiyas's
    image. "Come," the wanax said. "You have made trouble enough
    already." Trouble for himself, his glare said he meant. With his gods
    watching him so closely, how could he escape them, as the men of
    Gibil had begun to do? But Sharur had troubles of his own. Without
    the profits from this caravan, how was he to pay Ningal's bride-price?

    





    




    Donkeys brayed and complained. They'd got used to the soft life of
    the stables of Tuwanas, with nothing to do but eat and sleep. Now
    they had packs on their backs once more, and handlers making them
    90 places. The world seemed as unjust to them as it did to Sharur.
            1)
     "We go on, he insisted. Bowing to his will, the caravan headed
    west along the narrow, winding path toward the next fortresslike
    town of Alashkurru.
     Harharu coughed. "Master merchant's son, what you do now is
    brave. What you do now is bold. What you do now-is it not also
    
     listif You have said the god of this place told you that you would
    get nothing in Alashkurru. The god of this place told you that we
    would get nothing in Alashkurru. Would you openly fight the god?"
     "Donkeymaster, I would not," Sharur said. "I am not a fool: if all
    the gods of this place oppose us, we have no hope of profit here."
    And I have scant hope of making Ningal my wife. But that was not
    Harharu's concern. Aloud, Sharur continued, "The hand of every
    town in Alashkurru, though, is raised against every other. If it were
    not so, they would not build as they do here. Where the men are in
    discord, will the gods agree?"
     "Ah," Harharu said, and bowed. "Now I see what is in your mind.
    You think that, while we gain nothing in Tuwanas, while Huzziyas
    will not treat with us, while Tarsiyas speaks harshly against us, some
    other town, some other wanax, some other god may prove more hos-
    pitable?"
     "That is what is in my mind, yes," Sharur agreed.
     "Truly you are your father's son," Harharu. said, and now Sharur
    bowed to him.
     As they made their slow way up to the top of the hills separating
    
    71
    
    I

    




    72
    
    I)Z,RRY TURTLCOOVC
    
    the valley Tuwanas dominated from the next one deeper into
    mountain country, they met a party of eight or ten Alashkurrut co
    ing the other way. The men of Alashkurru were armed and armo
    like Huzziyas's guards. They led a few donkeys themselves, all
    animals far more heavily burdened than those of Sharur's carava
     At Mushezib's sharp orders, the caravan guards rushed forward
    show the Alashkurrut they were ready to fight at need. Because tt
    were ready to fight, they did not have to fight. The ... band
    Sharur supposed, did nothing but nod and tramp on past them.
     Seen from the hills, the fortified town of Zalpuwas looked ev
    more formidable than Tuwanas had. As the caravan approached
    fortress, peasants came running from the fields to stare and point
    jabber. They found the men of Kudurru, who wore clothes diffen
    from theirs and curled their beards, as funny as a troupe of moun
    banks with trained dogs and monkeys.
     Looking to sow goodwill, Sharur passed out bracelets and bangl
    He also opened a small jar of date wine and let that pass from ha
    to hand among the peasants. Everyone who got it took a small s-V
    before passing it on to whoever stood next to him till it was emp
    Sharur had been sure it would happen so. In Gibil, someone wot
    have been greedy and gulped down half the jar. He was sure of th
    too.
     In Gibil, men thought more of themselves and less of the go
    than they did here. Sharur chose not to dwell on that point.
     The woman who did finally empty the jar returned it to him, sayi
    with a smile, "We have never seen a caravanmaster so generous b
    fore." Her stance and the sparkle in her eye suggested that, did
    choose to be a little more generous, she might give him somethi
    in return.
     "We trade with all," Sharur declared loudly, and many of the pe
    ants exclaimed to hear him speak in their language. "We trade gre
    for great; we also trade small for small." None of the gods of Alas
    kurru had forbidden their people from trading food and donkey fodd
    
    for his trinkets, for which he was duly grateful.
    
    Surrounded by an excited crowd of peasants, the caravan pass
    
    through the stone huts ringing the stout walls of Zalpuwas and up
    the gateway into the fortress. One of the guards said, "Is it Sha

    




    e
    
    d
    e
    
    0
    
                                        y
                                        S,
    
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    e
    d
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    C_
    
                                       es.
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                                       at,
    
    ods
    
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    be-
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    ing
    
    eas-
     reat
     sh-
     der
    
    ssed
    p to
    arur
    
    9: "1
    
    73ETWCEN T13e RIVERS
    
    son of Ereshguna, out of Gibil in the land between the rivers?" H
    voice broke in surprise, as if he were a youth rather than a solid
    warrior with the first threads of gray in his beard.
     "Yes, it is 1, Malatyas son of Lukkas," Sharur replied. "I pray that
    
    your mighty wanax, Ramsayas son of Radas, flourishes like the wheat
    in your fields. I pray that he flourishes like the apple trees in your
    orchards. I have many fine things to trade with him, or with the
    merchants who are his servants: swords and spearheads and knives
    
    and medicines and-"
    
     He broke off. Malatyas was paying no attention to his polished
    sales pitch. The gate guard burst out, "Are you not come from Tu-
    
    wanas Sharur son of Ereshouna?"
    
    "Yes," Sharur admitted.
    
     "And when you were there," Malatyas persisted, "the gods did not
    warn you to come no farther into the mountains of Alashkurru?"
     "They did not," he said truthfully. Tarsiyas had warned him of
    many things, but not of that. Perhaps the god and his fellows had
    assumed Sharur would be so downhearted, he would not continue
    They were not his gods. They did not know him well. In reasonable
    tones, he went on, "Had the gods forbidden it, how could I be here
    

    




    now?"
    
    "It is a puzzlement." To prove how great a puzzlement it was, Mal-
    
    atyas scratched his bushy head. "We were certain that-"
     "Since I am here, since I have goods the mighty wanax Ramsayas
    will surely covet, may I enter great Zalpuwas?" Sharur broke in.
     As had the guards back at Tuwanas, Malatyas and his comrades
    plainly wanted to forbid the caravan from going into their town. As
    had those guards, these found themselves unable. "The mighty wanax
    will attend to you according to his wishes," Malatyas said, which
    sounded more like warning than welcome. But he stood aside and let
    Sharur and his companions pass into Za1puwas.
    
     Being deeper in among the mountains than Tuwanas, Zalpuwas
    received visitors less often, and was not so well prepared to accom-
    modate them. The couple of inns were small and dingy and dark,
    with sour straw in the stables. Their sole virtue, in Sharur's eyes, was
    that their proprietors made no fuss about accepting beads and bangles

    




    74
    
    bARRY TURTLeoove
    
     "The Alashkurri gods may be against us," Mushezib said, sip
    beer made bitter with the flowering head of some plant that gre
    the valley, "but the innkeepers aren't so fussy."
     "Are you surprised?" Sharur answered. "When have you ever h
    of a god who would bother taking notice of an innkeeper?" Mu
    zib's laugh sprayed beer over the top of the table where the two
    of Kudurru sat.
     But Sharur's joke soon turned as bitter as the local beer to
    for none of the copper merchants of Zalpuwas took notice of hi
    of his caravan. When he went to greet men with whom he had t
    on previous journeys, their doors were closed against him as if
    had never heard his name. He sent word to Ramsayas son of R
    requesting an audience. No word came back from the wanax.
     Finally, in growing desperation, Sharur sent Ramsayas not
    but a sword, one of the finest swords he had brought from
    Where nothing else had, that did prompt the wanax to send a se
    to seek out Sharur. Sharur bowed to the servant as he might ha
    the master, saying, "Tell the mighty wanax I am honored tha
    deigns to notice me."
     "Ramsayas son of Radas, mighty wanax of Zalpuwas, notices e
    thing and everyone that passes inside these walls," the servant
    swered.
     "Of this I am truly glad," Sharur said. "Does he likewise n
    everything that passes outside the walls of his fortress?"
     "No, he does not claim that," the servant said. "He is not a
    to have so wide a purview, only a servant of the gods."
     "I thought as much," Sharur replied. "He should know that I
    him the sword in token of what he does not see: other wan
    other valleys arming themselves and their retainers with such w
    ons. If he would not be left behind his neighbors, he might thin
    the wisdom of gaining more such blades."
     The servant's mouth fell open. "I cannot believe other wan
    would-" He checked himself. "But who knows into what depr
    men of other valleys might sink?" After coughing a couple of t
    he went on, "I shall take what you say to Ramsayas son of Radas
    his judgment, not mine, rule here."
     Ramsayas sent for Sharur the very next day.

    




    BETWEEN T C RIVERS
    
    Sharur bowed before the wanax of Zalpuwas as he might have done
    before Kimash the lugal of Gibil. I am honoredl Ramsayas son of
    Radas, that you deign to notice me," he said as he straightened.
     Ramsayas grunted. Actually, he put Sharur more in mind of Mush-
    ezib than of Kimash: he was a fighter, first, last, and always. He had
    a narrow, forward-thrusting face with a nose hooked like a hawk's
    beak and almost as sharp. The way he leaned toward Sharur in the
    tall chair on which he sat emphasized that seeming inclination to
    
    attack
    
     "Oh, you are noticed, Sharur son of Ereshguna. Rest assured you
    are noticed," he said. His voice had a harsh rasp to it; too much
    shouting, Derhat)s, on too many raids against too manv nearbv vallevs.
    
    "Now, what is this you say about my neighbors' buying blades from
    
     I said nothing about their buying such swords from me, mighty
    wanax," Sharur replied, though that was the impression he had
    wanted to leave with Ramsayas's servant. I said they are acquiring
    them. Gibil is not the only city of Kudurru trading with the many
    valleys, the many fortresses, of Alashkurru, but our blades-and our
    other goods of all sorts, I make haste to add-are among the finest
    to be had. You have dealt with me; likewise, you have dealt with my
    
     I have dealt with you. Likewise, I have dealt with your father.'
    Ramsayas ran his tongue over his lips. "That was a splendid sword
    
    Sharur bowed. "A wanax deserves nothing less than a sr)lendid
    
     "And yet, you are of Gibil." Like Huzziyas before him, Ramsayas
    seemed of two minds. Part of him plainly wanted what Sharur had
    brought up to Alashkurru from the land between the rivers. That was
    the part Sharur and his father and other men of Gibil had always
    seen when they dealt with the Alashkurrut. The rest of Ramsayas,
    
    "Yes, I am of Gibil," Sharur agreed. "I was likewise of Gibil when
    
    also came here to trade. You were glad to see me then

    




    76
    
    1)3,-Rlzy -UU-RTtCOOVC
    
    Ramsayas son of Radas. You were glad to trade with me. You
    glad to buy from me." He knew he sounded bitter. He had reaso
    be bitter. He was bitter.
     Ramsayas's fierce eyes went up to the timbers of the ceiling. Ha
    so much fine timber, the men of Alashkurru often used it in
    struck Sharur as profligate style. He had even seen, in some val
    deeper into the mountains than that of Zalpuwas, whole build
    made of wood. Ramsayas's eyes flashed past Sharur to the far wa
    the audience chamber. Sharur realized he had succeeded in e
    rassing the wanax. That might bring him profit, or might bring
    trouble if embarrassment turned to anger.
     To his surprise, embarrassment turned to regret. "Yes, I was
    to see you then, Sharur son of Ereshguna," Ramsayas said with a s
    "Yes, I was glad to trade with you. Yes, I was glad to buy from y
    Suddenly, the wanax looked more hunted than hunter. His ho
    voice dropped to a whisper. "As a man, I am still glad to see
    But I am more than merely a man. I am a man who obeys his g
    I may not trade with you. I may not buy from you. So my gods h
    ordered. My men obey me when we war against our neighbors. I o
    the gods."
     "But we are not at war, you and l!" Sharur cried.
     "No. This is so," Ramsayas said. "But you Giblut, you are at
    with the gods of Alashkurru, I fear. Do I understand rightly that
    are at war with the gods of Kudurru as well?"
     "No," Sharur said. "I say ten times, a hundred times, a thous
    times, no. Engibil is my god. I and all of Gibil worship him."
     "But he does not rule you," Ramsayas said, and Sharur had
    reply. "That is at the heart of why the gods of this town, the god
    this land, fear you and will not let you trade with us. They do
    want the men of Alashkurru to become as the Giblut are."
     "So I have seen, though I tell you, mighty wanax, this fea
    groundless," Sharur said. I worship my god. I fear my god." That
    certainly true. The merchant went on, "And I would not, Wo
    try to seduce you away from-" -
     "No," Ramsayas broke in. "I will not hear you." To prove he wo
    not hear Sharur, he stuck his forefingers into his ears, so that

    




    -BETWECIQ TbC RIVERS
    
    77
    
    looked rather like a three-year-old refusing to hear what its father
    told it.
     Back in Tuwanas, Huzziyas had quivered with eagerness for
    chance to get around his gods and trade with Sharur. He would have
    disobeyed them had they not forced obedience upon him. They had
    won this battle. Sharur did not think they would win the war in
    Tuwanas, not if Huzziyas stayed on as wanax there and was not over-
    thrown. Huzziyas wanted, panted, to be a lugal, or whatever the
    Alashkurrut would call a lugal: a man who ruled in his own right.
    He had not been able to take this chance to do it. He would surely
    try again. Sharur guessed he would succeed, sooner or later.
     Ramsayas-unfortunately, from Sharur's point of view-was dif-
    ferent. Like Huzziyas, he was a rough, strong man. Like Huzziyas, he
    would have liked to trade with Sharur for the fine weapons the man
    of Gibil had brought. But unlike Huzziyas, he was not willing to risk
    def~ing or deceiving the gods to get what he wanted. He was either
    content with the arrangement he and his forebears had long known
    or simply afraid to try to change it.
     Sharur held up a hand. Rarnsayas asked, "Does that mean you will
    speak on something else?" Sharur nodded-the wanax of Zalpuwas
    still had his fingers in his ears. At that nod, he removed them, wiping
    one against the wool of his tunic. "Very well then, Sharur son of
    Ereshguna. Speak on something else."
     "By your leave, mighty wanax, I should like to speak to your gods."
    Sharur had no great hope anything would come of that. The same
    gods dwelt in Zalpuwas as in Tuwanas. But Tarsiyas did not speak
    with the loudest voice here; that place belonged to the goddess Fas-
    illar, If the gods of the Alashkurru Mountains knew discord-as the
    men of the mountains did, as the gods of Kudurru did-perhaps
    Sharur would find those strong here more friendly to his cause.
     Ramsayas's eyes got a faraway took, as if he was listening to some-
    one Sharur could not hear. That was exactly what he was doing. As
    Huzziyas had back in Tuwanas, he said, "They will hear you." And,
    as Huzziyas had, he added, "They will not listen."
     When Huzziyas had said that, he had appeared to be speaking for
    himself. Ramsayas sounded more like a man delivering the words of

    




    78
    
    DA-RRY TuRTLcOovc
    
    the gods. That was not a good omen, not so far as Sharur co
    He had had few good omens since setting out from Gibil. He
    even missed them any more.
    
    Had the gods been besieged in their temple in Zalpuwas, the
    have held it even longer than was so for their citadel back
    wanas. Sharur felt, and was no doubt meant to feel, like no
    much as a tiny insect as he walked into the great stone pil
    weight of the stonework, and of the power indwelling there
    him want to shrink down into himself, making himself of ev
    account when measured against the gods of Alashkurru.
     Fasillar, the Alashkurri goddess of birth, was depicted enor
    pregnant. By Sharur's standards, the statue was earnest but
    work; it might have been carved by the brother of the man w
    shaped Tarsiyas's image back in Tuwanas. Ninshubur, the go
    birth in Kudurru, was also the goddess of new ideas. Sharur
    think that was so for Fasillar; as best he could tell, the Ala
    gods actively discouraged new ideas.
     Ramsayas stretched himself out at full length on the gro
    fore the cult image of Fasillar. Sharur bowed low before it.
    pected the gods of the Alashkurru Mountains (more acc
    he respected the power of the gods of the Alashkurru Mou
    but they were not his gods.
     The goddess spoke: "Whom do you bring before me, Rams
    of Radas? Why do you bring him before me?" Did Sharur ima
    or was that last question full of ominous overtones?
     "Mistress of the mysteries of birth, provider of warriors, gre
    dess of this town, great goddess of this land . . ." After the ho
    the wanax of Zalpuwas took a deep breath so he could come
    point: I bring before you Sharur son of Ereshguna, a foreign
    man of the distant land between the rivers, a man of the t
    Gibil." He did not raise his head as he spoke, not once.,Ind
    reckoned himself far more a servant of the gods than did Huz
    Tuwanas.
     Sharur wished the wanax had not mentioned Gibil. Fasill
    knew whence he came, but reminding her of it would do h

    




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    no good. He bowed ag~in, saying, "I greet you, great goddess of this
    town. I greet you, great goddess of this land."
     Fasillar's stone eyes swung in their sockets till they bore on Sharur.
    "You are the foreign man who spoke with Tarsiyas my cousin in the
    town of Tuwanas."
     "I am that man, great goddess of this town, great goddess of this
    land," Sharur acknowledged.
     "Tarsiyas my cousin made it plain to you we do not want what the
    men of Gibil have to trade, Fasillar said. "Tarsiyas my cousin made
    it plain to you that we do not want the men of Alashkurru to take
    what the men of Gibil have to trade. Tarsiyas my cousin having made
    that plain to you, why did you not leave this land? Why did you not
    return to Gibit? VAy did you go deeper into these mountains, into
    this land, to disturb another town, to disturb Zalpuwas?"
     "Great goddess of this town, great goddess of this land . . ." As he
    spoke the honorifics, Sharur used the time they gave him to gather
    his own thoughts. "I understood from Tarsiyas your cousin, great god
    of that town, great god of this land, that he rejected dealings for the
    things of Gibil, dealings with the men of Gibil." He licked his lips.
    
    ,P1 did not understand him to mean a the towns of this land, all the
    gods of this land, rejected my city and the men of my city."
     Fasillar's stone eyes blazed. The nipples of her swollen stone breasts
    sprang out and pressed against the rich wool wrappings in which the
    folk of Zalpuwas had decked her. "You knew what Tarsiyas my cousin
    told you, Sharur son of Ereshguna. You knew what Tarsiyas my cousin
    meant, man of Gibil. In your heart, you chose to misunderstand, to
    twist the words of Tarsiyas my cousin to a shape more pleasing to
    you. That you do this, that you can do this, shows why all the gods
    of Alashkurru hate you."
     Still down on his belly, Ramsayas moaned. Again, his was a dif-
    ferent kind of fright from Huzziyas's. The wanax of Tuwanas had been
    frightened because Sharur had got him in trouble with his gods. The
    wanax of Zalpuwas was frightened because Sharur had got himself in
    trouble with the Alashkurri gods. Huzziyas wanted to be out from
     under them, but could not escape. Ramsayas was content down to
     the bottom of his spirit to remain their servant.
      Their anger frightened Sharur, too, for it meant he would not
    
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    return to Gibil with his donkeys' packs nicely burdened with
    and copper ore. It meant he would not return to Gibil with r
    beautiful things for Kimash the lugal to set on Engibil's altar
    might in turn make Engibil angry at Kimash and at the rest
    men of Gibil.
     And it meant he would not return to Gibil with Ningal'
    price. She would have to remain in the house of Dimgal
    smith, her father. Perhaps Dimgalabzu would offer her to s
    else, someone who had not been so rash as to pledge a brid
    from profit and then come home without it. Ereshguna would
    happy to see this marriage alliance fail, for he wanted his
    joined to Dimgalabzu's. Sharur would not be happy to see th
    riage alliance fail, for he wanted himself joined to Ningal.
     He said, "Great goddess of this town, great goddess of this
    will appease you and the other gods of this town, the other
    this land, with any contrition-offering you ask of me, short of
    or the lives of my countrymen. I want no more from you
    trade my wares for the wares of this land and to return to my
    return to my god, in peace."
     "No," Fasillar said, and Ramsayas moaned again at that b
    jection. The goddess went on, "A contrition-offering depen
    true contrition. You, man of Gibil, you would make the offer
    speak the words of contrition with your mouth, while you
    laughed within you. For the gods of this town, for the gods
    land, to accept such an offering would be for us to eat of p
    fruit. Better it were never made."
     Sharur bit his lip. Fasillar had indeed seen what was in h
    he would have made the offering as part of the price of doing
    in the Alashkurru Mountains, not because he repented of bei
    he was. Bowing his head before the superior power he could
    but recognize, he asked, "What am I to do, then, great go
    this town, great goddess of this land?"
     "You have but one thing to do." Fasillar's voice was limp
    "Leave this land. Return to Z alpuwas no more."
     "Great goddess of this town, great goddess of this land,
    Sharur bowed his head again. Even as he spoke, though, he
    he might bend the Alashkurri goddess's words to his own pu

    




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    As the caravan pressed deeper in among the Alashkurru Mountains,
    Harharu asked, "Are you sure you know what course you take, master
    merchant's son, the goddess having told you to quit this land?"
     "Donkeymaster, I obey Fasillar." Sharur's smile was crooked. "We
    quit the land of Zalpuwas, do we not? When we leave these moun-
    tains, we shall not leave them through the land of ZaIpuwas, but by
    another route."
     Mushezib laughed. "Thus did I obey my mother after I got too big
    for my father to beat me." The guard captain eyed Sharur. "Are you
    too big for these gods to beat you, master merchant's son?"
     "Not a chance of it," Sharur answered. "If the gods-any gods-
    take it into their minds to beat a man, they will beat him. My hope
    is that they will not take it into their minds to do any such thing,
    that I can make myself too small to draw their notice."
     That satisfied Mushezib. It did not satisfy Harharu, who said, "Mas-
    ter merchant's son, on what do you pin this hope? Slice words as you
    will, the goddess told you to quit this land, and you press deepet into
    it. Before long, we shall halt in another valley. Before long, you shall
    present yourself before another wanax's chief merchant, or more
    likely before another wanax himself. Before long, you shall be
    brought into the presence of the Alashkurri gods. How can you fail
    to draw their notice?"
     "Before long, we shall halt in another valley," Sharur agreed. "I
    know the valley in which we shall halt: the valley of Parsuhandas.
    The trading in the valley of Parsuhandas has long been good for Gibil.
    But I shall not present myself before Wassukhamnis, the chief mer-
    chant of the valley of Parsuhandas. I shall not present myself before
    Yaddiyas, the mighty wanax of the valley of Parsuhandas. Most es-
    pecially, I shall not be brought into the presence of the Alashkurri
    gods in the valley of Parsuhandas. I shall not draw their notice."
     "Ah. Now I understand." Mushezib boomed laughter. "You will
    trade swords and spearheads and good date wine to the peasants of
    the valley of Parsuhandas, and we will go back to Gibil with our
    donkeys piled high with cucumbers." He laughed again.
      "The peasants of the valley of Parsuhandas are Alashkurrut like

    




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    any other Alashkurrut," Sharur said. "No doubt, could they pay
    them, they would be glad to have fine swords of bronze, and i
    spearheads of bronze as well. Could he pay for it, any man would
    glad to drink good date wine. But we have in Gibil cucuml
    aplenty. I would sooner bring back to our city copper and copper
    And this, if matters go as I hope, I shall do."
     Harharu's frown remained. "And you will not see Wassukhami
    chief merchant of the valley of Parsuhandas? And you will not
    Yaddiyas, mighty wanax of the valley of Parsuhandas? Master rr
    chant's son, what will you do?"
     I shall present myself before Abzuwas son of Ahhiyawas, Sha
    replied.
     Harharu. considered that for as long as a donkey took to walk f
    paces. Then the donkeymaster bowed so deeply to Sharur, his I
    fell off his head.
    
    Rain spattered down from a cloudy sky as the caravan entered t
    valley of Parsuhandas. By that time, guards and donkey handlers h
    stopped exclaiming in dismay at summer rain, and most of them h
    stopped making signs and charms against the evil omens to be drai
    from such a phenomenon. For his part, Sharur took the evil weatf
    as a good omen: rain made it more difficult for the gods of the Alass
    kurru Mountains to peer down and see what he was about.
     Stronger than both Tuwanas and Zalpuwas was the fortress tm
    of Parsuhandas, which seemed to have sprung from the stony groul
    rather than being built. The valley of Parsuhandas was narrow aj
    steep, the fields of the valley small and cramped. Nevertheless, P"
    suhandas prospered.
     Parsuhandas prospered because many black-mouthed holes h;
    been dug into the sides of the Valley, most often where it was steepe!
    Men went into those holes and grubbed at the ground with copp
    picks and with pry bars made from branches and shod, sometimc
    with copper, and with shovels more often of bone and wood ihan i
    copper and wood. Not many men went down into the mines, for d.
    mountains of Alashkurru were like any other land in that their pea
    ants could not raise food enough to support more than a few wh

    




               UCTWEEM TI)C RIVERS           83
    
    were not peasants. But miners there were, who brought copper ore
    and, every now and again, masses of native copper up from the dark-
    ness into the light of day.
     Near one of those mines, the largest in the valley of Parsuhandas,
    dwelt Abzuwas son of Ahhiyawas. A great pillar of smoke rose from
    his stone home, guiding Sharur and the caravan thither. Yet that
    home was not afire. Like so many in Gibil, it was also Abzuwas's
    place of business, and he the busiest and most clever smith in the
    valley of Parsuhandas and, probably, in all the Alashkurru Moun-
    tains.
     As if Abzuwas had been a man of Kudurru, he wore only sandals
    and a linen kilt. He did it not to ape the men from the land between
    the rivers, but because he spent so much time tending his forges, and
    would have steamed in his own wrappings had he donned the usual
    Alashkurri tunic.
     He stood outside the stone building when Sharur led the donkey
    train up to him: outside and, too impatient to wait for the rain to do
    the job, pouring a big jar of water over his head and hairy torso, both
    to clean himself and to cool his body after some long stretch of swel-
    tering work. "I greet you, Abzuwas son of Ahhiyawas, master of
    metal," Sharur called out as he approached.
     Abzuwas shook himself like a wet dog. Water sprayed out from his
    hair and beard. He rubbed at his eyes to get the water out of them,
    too. "Well, well," he said, his voice deep and rolling like the voice
    of a big drum. "Well, well. I greet you, Sharur son of Ereshguna,
    master merchant's son. For a man from the land of Kudurru, a man
    with the knowledge of bronze, to call me a master of metal is praise
    indeed. It's more praise than I deserve, but a man fool enough to turn
    down praise would also be fool enough to turn down a woman if she
    offered him her body, and, whatever kind of fool I may be, I am not
    such a fool as that. Welcome, Sharur son of Ereshguna, welcome!"
     He walked forward to enfold Sharur in a wet, smelly embrace. No
     matter how wet and smelly it was, Sharur was glad to have the hug.
     Since he had come into the Alashkurru Mountains, Abzuwas was the
     first person to have fully returned his greeting. Since he had come
     into the Alashkurru Mountains, this place was the first place he had
     felt welcome.
    
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     As he freed himself from Abzuwas's massive arms, he realize
    was literally true. Here by the smithy, he did not feel in the b
    his mind the unfriendly presence of the gods of the Alashk
    Metal had power, and gave a man power-power that was n
    was not yet, the power of any god.
     "So," Abzuwas boomed. "So! I had not heard you, were i
    fortress of Parsuhandas. I had not heard you were treating witt
    diyas, the mighty wanax of Parsuhandas. I had not heard Yad
    the mighty wanax of Parsuhandas, had sent you to me." He s
    his broad shoulders. "But so what? When I get to working, wh
    metal pours bright into the mold, I do not hear anything, even
    many men think they tell me."
     "Abzuwas, my friend, I will not lie to you," Sharur said. I w
    in the fortress of Parsuhandas. I was not treating with Yaddiyas
    diyas has not sent me to you."
     "Well, well," Abzuwas said again, in a different tone of voic
    you came straight to me, did you? Why did you come straight
    Why did you not go into the fortress of Parsuhandas? Why d
    not treat with Yaddiyas, the mighty wanax of Parsuhandas?"
     I came straight to you because I felt sure you would tradi
    me," Sharur replied, sounding more confident than he felt. I
    go into the fortress of Parsuhandas, I did not treat with the
    wanax Yaddiyas, because I did not think he would trade with
     Abzuwas frowned. "And why is that, Sharur son of Ereshgun
    mighty wanax Yaddiyas has always been glad to gain your s
    The mighty wanax Yaddiyas has always been glad to gain your
    goods. I can give you only copper and c6pper ore in trade. C
    and copper ore are all I have. The mighty wanax Yaddiyas has
    different things. He can give you many different things in tra
     "Copper and copper ore will do nicely," Sharur said. "Th
    what draws the men of Kudurru to the Alashkurru Mountain
     "You did not answer my question." Abzuwas folded his arms
    his chest and looked straight at Sharur. "Why did you cofne
    and not go into the fortress? Why would you treat with me, a
    with the mighty wanax?"
     "For no reason I can see," Sharur said, almost truthfully,
    Alashkurri gods are angry at me. They have forbidden the,

    




    of this land from trading with me. They have forbidden the mer
    chants of this land from trading with me. So far as I know, they have
    
    not forbidden the smiths of this land from trading with me."
    
     "Ah, the gods." Abzuwas spoke in some surprise. "Yes, the gods.'
    Sure enough, he needed to be reminded of them, just as a smith it
    Gibil might go for days without worrying about the will of Engibil
    The aods were stronoer than he ves but they did not much imping(
    
    on what he did in his daily labors. "They are angry at you, you say?"
    Reluctantly, Sharur nodded. Abzuwas asked, "V/hy should they not
    be angry at me, then, if I give you copper and copper ore in trade for
    your goods? Why should they not be angry at me if, of a sudden, I
    trade Gibli swords and wine and cloth and whatever else you may
    
     "Because you are a smith," Sharur answered. "Because you have
    your own power. Because here in this place I o not e t e we g t
    of the Alashkurri gods on my shoulders." Because you are more like a
    man of Gibil than any other Alashkurri I know, even Huzziyas the wanax
    who would be a lugal if only the gods here would let him. But Sharur did
    
    not say that aloud, not knowing how Abzuwas would take it.
    
     The smith understood it even if he did not say it. "I cannot take
    this chance, Sharur son of Ereshguna. You and 1, we are not so much
    
     "But we are," Sharur insisted. We both have more freedom from
    the gods than is common here in your mountains or in the land
    
     "No." Abzuwas shook his head. "You are nearly right, but you are
    not right. I have freedom under the gods. I do not have freedom from
    
    "It amounts to the same thing in the end," Sharur said.
    
     But Abzuwas shook his head again, sadly. "I have seen you Giblut.
    Whether the eods izive or not, you snatch. Such was never my way
    
     "Content?" Sharur had, so far as he was able, been holding in his
    temper in the presence of the Alashkurrut and their gods. Now, for
    the first time since he'd entered the mountains, it escaped him al-
    together. "Content?" His voice rose to a shout. "No, I am not con-
    tent! I have fine ooods to trade here and no one will trade with me
    
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    b.XRRY TURTLE!0ove
    
    I am going to face a loss, not a profit, because no one here wi
    with me. Your gods have the foolish notion-your gods h
    stupid notion-I have some sort of a disease of the spirit, an
    am liable to give it to you, and so they will let no one trade w
    I shall not have the bride-price for the woman I want, the
    who wants me, because no one will trade with me. And you
    am content? Would you be content, standing where I stand?
     He was dimly aware of the donkey handlers and caravan
    staring at him while he raged. What gossip they would hav
    they got back to Gibil! Most of his attention, though, cent
    Abzuwas the Smith, who, he had thought, was more like a Gi
    any other man of Alashkurru.
     "If the gods made it plain to me they did not want me to
    would not trade, Abzuwas answered. "The gods have made
    to me they do not want me to trade, and I will not trade.
    they are right, whether they are wrong, they are the gods.
    too strong to fight. I will not fight them."
     He was like a Gibli: he had come so far out from under
    of his gods that he could see they might be wrong. And he
    like a Gibli: he accepted their rule nonetheless, on account
    strength, and did not seek to work around that strength wi
    strength as he and his'fellow men possessed. Sharur did no
    what to make of him, how to reckon him.
     "What should I do?" Sharur asked the question at least
    of himself as of Abzuwas.
     Abzuwas answered it nonetheless: "Go home to Gibil, Sh
    of Ereshguna. You cannot profit on every journey. In your he
    must know this is so. If you do not earn the woman's bride-pri
    perhaps you will find another way of getting it. You Giblut ar
    in such things, as in so many others."
     I cannot, not in this, Sharur thought. But he had not full
    his reasons for concern even with his own father, even with
    his intended, and he would not take them up with a forei
    even with a sympathetic foreign Smith.
     Harharu came up to him. The donkeymaster chose his wo
    great and obvious care: "Master merchant's son, if Abzuwa

    




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    87
    
    Ahhiyawas will not trade with us, no Alashkurri will trade with us.
    Is this the truth, or is it a lie?"
     "It is the truth," Sharur said dully.
     "If none of the Alashkurrut will trade with us, do we not waste
    your substance, do we not waste your father's substance, by persisting
    in this land where the gods hate us and the men obey the gods?"
     "We do," Sharur admitted, dully still. He let out a long sigh. "I
    understand your words, donkeymaster, however much my heart rebels
    within me at yielding to them. But you are right. Abzuwas is right,
    or partly right. We have failed here. We shall go home to Gibil." He
    pretended not to hear the muffled cheers that rose from his followers.
    
    The caravan had no trouble leaving the mountains. The Alashkurrut
    were willing enough to trade food for Sharur's trinkets, even if they
    would engage in no commerce that meant anything. No bands of
    raiders, no wanax's guardsmen (these two groups sometimes being
    difficult-sometimes being impossible-to distinguish one from the
    other) beset him or tried to rob him of the swords and wine and
    medicines for which the Alashkurri great men refused to bargain.
     That puzzled Sharur as much as it relieved him. The Alashkurrut
    sometimes plundered caravans for the sport of it, even when their
    gods were not ill-inclined toward the foreign merchants in their land.
    If their gods hated him so, if their gods hated all men of Gibil so,
    why not seek to wipe him from the face of the earth?
     He pondered that as day followed day and bandits continued to
    stay far away from his donkeys. Nor was he the only one pondering
    it. As the caravan encamped one evening, Mushezib came up to him
    and said, "Why are they leaving us alone, master merchant's son?"
    He sounded aggrieved at losing the chance to fight.
     By then Sharur had devised an answer that, if not provably true
    like a question of arithmetic, at least helped him toward understand-
    ing this strange part of the world. "Guard captain, we know the gods
    
    here hate us."
     Mushezib nodded emphatically. "All the more reason for wanting
    to be rid of us by hook or by crook, wouldn't you say?"

    




    88
    
    b.XRRY'L SIRTICOOVC=
    
     "They want to be rid of us, 0," Sharur said, "but I th
    fear us too much to try to slay us w despoil us. Perhaps they 2
    of what our ghosts might do if ,,ie were murdered in this
    Perhaps they are afraid of what 4e living men of Gibil mi
    we were murdered in this wat rarp So long as we are willing
    their land, they seem willing to ~ W- us leave in peace."
     "Gibil is a long way off, and is waly one city," Mushezib sa
    could the living men of Gibil BlTre to avenge us against A
    bandits?"
     "Against Alashkurri bandits, I do not think they could
    avenge us," Sharur said. ",-T
                       Mst Alashkurri gods, I tb
    might. The gods of Alashkurru M-r the men of Alashkum
    out of their hands, as we Giblut -',Lave to some degree slipp
    the hands of Engibil." He spoke ioftly as he made to his coi
    the admission he would not oo-1_7-3 to the Imhursagut or Ah
     "How does that help the living men of Gibil avenge-?"
    held up a hand. "Wait. I think I ,ee. If many Giblut came
     Sharur nodded. "Just so, -giLij-
                         j captain. Trading with u
    with us, has already made many Jlashkurrut much more lil
    they were even a generation ago. If enough Giblut came a
    and talked, sooner or later a -.,owax would do what Huzz~
    not do, and would m~ake himself liato a lugal, a ruler in his (
    My guess is, the gods of the 1MItkurrut believe that, if al
    of Gibil leave this land, if none %Is any reason to come he
    kurru shall remain forever as it Ws always been."
     Mushezib weighed that, then grunted. "Do you thir
    right?"
     "What an interesting aaL&M" Sharur said, and did r
    it. He thought the Alashkurri t ~st likely-almost certaint
    but was not so rash as to say so where they could hear.
    drink some beer, Mushezib?"
     "That's a good idea, master cierchant's son." Mushe
    thought drinking some beer a tilLed idea.
     Two days later, in the -valley 4ominated by the fortre
    Danauwiyas, to the north of the valley of Zalpuwas (thro
    Sharur dared not go, not now), Ae caravan met that of i

    




    f
    n
    
    ib
    
    an
     ed
     Id
     t.
     en
    sh-
    y're
    
    ways
    
    n of
    hich
    en of
    
    -BETWEEM TbC RIVERS
    
    89
    
    Imhursag, which it had left in the dust long before reaching the
    Alashkurru Mountains.
     Sharur recognized the Imhursagut before they figured out who he
    was. He would have been angry at himself had it been the other way
    round. If a man from Gibil, a man who thought for himself, was not
    more alert than the Imhursagut, drunk with their god as they got
    drunk with wine, what point to being a Gibli?
     Then he bethought himself that the caravan from Imhursag would
    have made a fine profit here in the mountains. He knew in his heart
    he would have made more even on the same shoddy Imhursaggi
    goods-if, that is, any of the Alashkurrut would have consented to
    deal with him. Since the Alashkurrut, as he had seen to his sorrow,
    would not deal with him under any circumstances ... what point to
    being a man of Gibil now?
     "Pride." Finding the answer, he spoke it aloud, and then addressed
    his companions: "Show pride, one and all. Do not let the Imhursagut
    know we are downhearted; do not act like slaves before them. Follow
    my lead in all I do. If the Imhursagut think we have done well here,
    it will confuse them. If they think we have made a profit here, it will
    confuse their god."
     Where nothing else might have served, that raised the caravan
    crew's spirits. Putting one over on Enimhursag was sweeter to the
    Giblut than dates candied in honey, more satisfying than a great bowl
    of stewed lamb and lentils.
     And so, by the time the men of Imhursag realized the men and
    donkeys approaching them came from the city that was their hated
    rival, by the time they scurried around and readied themselves for a
    fight that might or might not come-by that time, Sharur and the
    caravan guards and the donkey handlers showed new life in their
    step, new cheer on their faces. Striding out ahead of them, Sharur
    marched confidently toward the Imhursaggi caravan.
     An Imhursaggi came toward him, too: the same man with whom
    he had spoken on the road to Alashkurru. "Gibil and Imhursag are
    not at war. Engibil and Enimhursag are not at war, Sharur said. "Let
    us by in peace. We shall let you by in peace. We are homeward-
    bound."

    




    90
    
    I)Z,RRY TURTLeOove
    
     The Imhursaggi cocked his head to one side, as if listening.
    tening he was, to no voice Sharur could hear, to no voice Sha
    cared to hear. Having learned the will of his god, he answered, "
    shall let you go in peace. Go home to your city, Gibli; go home w
    your tail between your legs."
     "When I get home to Gibil, I shall thrust my tail between the I
    of my Imhursaggi slave woman," Sharur retorted. "W"hy do you m
    me? Why do you insult me? May you make as much profit on y
    journey as I have made on mine."
     He knew how he meant that. He did not think the man of
    hursag would. He did not think Enimhursag would, either, when
    god heard the words through the man's ears. He proved right on b
    counts. Angrily, the Imhursaggi said, "Profit? How can you h
    made a profit?"
     "Why do you ask? Don't you know how yourself?" Sharur's s
    was easy, lazy, happy, as if he had just had the Imhursaggi slave.
    knew how much effort holding that smile on his face required.
    holding it there, he hoped to keep the man of Imhursag from see
    that effort.
     And he succeeded. Swarthy though the Imhursaggi merchant
    he flushed angrily. "You cannot have made a profit in the Ala
    Mountains!" he shouted. "'You cannot! The gods of this country
    you. They know what Giblut are. They know what Giblut do."
    Sharur's smile only got wider. With a shrug, he answered,
    imhursag hates the men of Gibil, but we trade all through Kud
    and make eood t)rofits. We do not trade with Enimhursaa. We
    
    with men. We do not trade with the gods of this country, either
    
     From dark and ruddy, the merchant of Imhursag went pale
    understood what Sharur was saying. Enimhursag understood
    Sharur was saying, too. "You have made the Alashkurrut into
    
     "They will tell you otherwise," Sharur said. "They will insist
    not so. They will deny they ever- traded with me. They will so
    if you should believe them. But how will you know for ce
    
    "You are worse than a demon of the desert places," the Imhu

    




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    BETWEEM TI?C RIVERS
    
    said, horror in his eyes-a horror that was a window into a place
    deeper and darker than the bottom of his own spirit, a window into
    all the fears Enimhursag felt. Putting the god of lmhursag in fear felt
    almost as good as making a profit would have done. Almost.
     "We shall go by now," Sharur said. "We shall go by in peace now.
    I told you once and now I tell you twice, man of Imhursag: may you
    profit here as I have profited here."
     He wondered if Enimhursag would change his mind and order the
    Imhursagut to attack his men rather than letting them pass in peace.
    The merchant with whom he spoke evidently wondered the same
    thing, for he stood poised, his eyes far away, awaiting any orders his
    god might give. No orders came. The merchant slumped, ever so
    slightly. "We shall let you go by in peace. Go home to your city."
     As warily as they had west of the Yarmuk, the caravan from Gibil
    and that from Imhursag sidled past each other. The lmhursagut
    scowled frightful scowls at Sharur and his companions. At his com-
    mand, his own guards and donkey handlers did their best to pretend
    the caravan crew from the other city did not exist. Not a word was
    said on either side.
     Continuing east, back toward Kudurru, back toward Gibil, Sharur
    looked over his shoulder. Looking at him was the lmhursaggi mer-
    chant who led the other caravan. When their eyes met, the man of
    Imhursag flinched, as if from a blow. Quickly, he turned his gaze in
    another direction.
     Sharur told his own caravan crew how he had confused both the
    Imhursaggi merchant and Enimhursag. His fellow Giblut laughed and
    cheered and clapped him on the back. Harharu said, "The only way
    the tale could be better, master merchant's son, would be for our
    donkeys in truth to be heavily laden with copper and ore and the
    other goods of Alashkurru."
     "If the Alashkurrut were like us-if they truly were their own men
    first and took care of their gods to keep them quiet-we would be
    heavily laden with copper and ore and the other goods of Alash-
    kurru. , Sharur said, from out of a strange place halfway between
    frustrated fury and amusement. "But they are not, worse luck. And
     so Enimhursag wins this game." And so I lose it. That was even more
     to the point.
    
    k
    