btr2.txt

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

    




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

    




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

    




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

    




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    went on, more to himself than to anyone else. "They screa
    they kick and they wail and they try and bite-more troub]
    they're worth, if you ask me." He came out of his reverie when
    darted back toward one of the donkeys. "What are you doing,
    merchan...
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