wilbursmith_warlock-第131章

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　　Ishtar　followed　him　closely。　'This　temple　and　the　tunnels　beneath　it　were　built　almost　five　hundred　years　ago；'　he　told　Trok。　Now　there　was　the　gleam　of　water　below　them；　and　the　sound　of　the　torrent　running　swiftly　in　the　darkness。　At　last　Trok　reached　the　bottom　and　stepped　down　on　to　a　stone　pier。　By　the　wavering　torchlight　he　saw　that　they　stood　in　a　wide　tunnel　with　a　curved　roof；　an　aqueduct　of　impressive　dimensions。　The　roof　and　walls　were　lined　with　ceramic　tiles；　laid　in　geometric　patterns。　Both　ends　of　the　tunnel　shaded　off　into　deep　darkness。
　　
　　Ishtar　picked　a　fragment　of　fungus　from　the　wall　and　tossed　it　into　the　flow。　It　was　whisked　away　down　the　duct　and　disappeared　from　sight。　'It　is　deeper　than　a　man's　head；'　he　said；　and　Trok　looked　speculatively　at　the　captain　of　the　guard；　as　though　he　considered　testing　that　statement。　The　captain　shrank　back　into　the　shadows　trying　to　appear　insignificant。
　　
　　'This　footpath　on　which　we　stand　runs　the　full　length　of　the　aqueduct；'　Ishtar　explained。　'The　priests　who　repair　and　maintain　the　tunnel　use　it　to　gain　access。'
　　
　　'Where　does　it　start　and　where　does　it　end？'　Trok　demanded。
　　
　　'There　is　a　sump　in　the　bed　of　the　river；　under　the　piers　of　the　temple；　into　which　the　water　flows。　The　far　end　of　the　aqueduct　emerges　in　the　other　temple　of　Ninurta　within　the　walls　of　Babylon；　near　the　Blue　Gate；'　Ishtar　explained。　'Only　the　priests　know　of　the　existence　of　this　tunnel。　All　others　believe　that　the　water　is　a　benevolent　gift　from　the　god。　After　it　gushes　from　the　fountain　in　the　temple　precinct；　the　water　is　lifted　by　shadoof；　water　wheels；　to　the　gardens　of　the　palace；　or　sent　by　canals　to　every　quarter　of　the　city。'
　　
　　'I　do　believe；　Ishtar　the　Mede；　that　you　are　close　to　earning　your　three　lakhs。'　Trok　laughed　with　delight。　'It　remains　only　for　you　to　lead　us　down　this　rabbit…hole；　and　into　the　city　of　wonders　and　treasure；　especially　the　treasure。'
　　
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　　Trok　reasoned　that　the　priests　at　the　main　temple　of　Ninurta　within　the　city　walls　must　regularly　correspond　with　those　in　the　river　temple。　Almost　certainly　they　used　this　aqueduct　as　a　thoroughfare　between　the　two　munities。　It　would　not　take　long　for　them　to　discover　that　something　untoward　had　happened　to　their　brethren　in　the　river　temple。　He　had　to　make　his　plans　swiftly。
　　
　　Trok　chose　two　hundred　of　his　best　and　most　reliable　men；　all　members　of　his　own　leopard　tribe。　He　divided　them　into　two　groups。　Once　they　had　fought　their　way　through　the　aqueduct　into　the　city；　the　first　group　were　to　secure　the　Blue　Gate　and　keep　it　open　until　Pharaoh　Naja　Kiafan　could　lead　the　main　force　through　it。　The　second；　much　smaller　group　were　to　make　their　way　into　the　palace；　and　seize　Sargon's　treasury　before　he　was　able　to　dispose　of　the　gold。　'Although　it　would　take　a　thousand　wagons　to　carry　it　all　away；'　Ishtar　assured　him。
　　
　　The　chosen　two　hundred　were　dressed　in　the　uniforms　of　Sargon's　army；　taken　from　the　prisoners　and　the　dead　men　left　on　the　battlefield。　They　wore　the　long　ankle…length　tunics　of　striped　material；　belted　at　the　waist；　and　the　tall　beehive…shaped　helmets。　Ishtar　showed　them　how　to　curl　their　beards　and　hair　into　the　characteristic　ringlets　of　the　Mesopotamians。　They　wore　only　a　red　sash　to　distinguish　them　from　the　foe。　Rough　copies　of　the　city　map　were　hastily　drawn　by　the　army　scribes　and　issued　to　the　captains　of　both　divisions　so　that　they　knew　the　layout　of　streets　and　buildings。　By　evening　every　man　knew　exactly　what　was　expected　of　him　once　he　entered　the　city。
　　
　　As　soon　as　it　was　dark　Naja　quietly　moved　his　assault　force　up　into　position　outside　the　Blue　Gate；　ready　to　dash　through　into　the　city　as　soon　as　Trok's　men　threw　it　open。
　　
　　In　the　courtyard　of　the　river　temple　of　Ninurta；　Trok　mustered　his　division。　While　it　was　still　daylight；　he　and　Ishtar　led　them　in　single　file　down　the　spiral　staircase　to　the　level　of　the　aqueduct。　There　was　no　hurry；　for　they　had　many　hours　in　which　to　make　the　long　subterranean　journey。　Their　cleated　sandals　had　been　muffled　with　leather　socks；　so　their　heavy　footsteps　did　not　echo　along　the　gloomy　tunnel。　They　marched　in　silence；　every　tenth　man　carrying　a　torch；　giving　just　sufficient　light　for　the　men　who　followed　to　make　out　their　footing　on　the　slimy　stones　of　the　pier。　At　their　left　hand　the　never…ending　flow　of　water　rustled　darkly　by。　Every　thousand　paces　Ishtar　stopped　to　placate　the　god　Ninurta　with　gifts　and　incantations；　and　to　clear　the　way　ahead　of　the　magical　obstacles　and　barriers　placed　by　the　dead　priests。
　　
　　Nevertheless；　the　silent　march　seemed　endless　to　Trok；　and　it　came　as　a　surprise　when　abruptly　Ishtar　stopped　and　pointed　ahead。　The　faint　glimmer　of　light　was　reflected　off　the　shiny　ceramic　walls。　Trok　signalled　the　men　following　him　to　halt；　then　went　forward　with　Ishtar。　Over　their　own　garments　they　wore　headdresses　and　purple　robes　taken　from　the　bodies　of　the　slaughtered　priests。
　　
　　As　they　went　towards　the　source　of　the　light；　they　saw　another　grille　gate　across　the　tunnel；　and　the　distorted　shadows　of　men　thrown　on　the　walls　by　the　light　of　a　torch　set　in　a　bracket　above　the　gate。　As　they　drew　closer　they　saw　that　on　the　other　side　of　the　grille　two　robed　priests　were　seated　on　stools；　with　the　bao　board　between　them；　absorbed　in　their　game。　They　looked　up　when　Ishtar　called　softly　to　them。　The　fat　one　stood　up　and　wobbled　to　the　gate。　'Are　you　from　Sinna？'　he　called。　'Yes！'　Ishtar　assured　him。
　　
　　'You　are　late。　We　have　been　waiting　since　nightfall。　You　should　have　been　here　hours　ago。　The　high　priest　will　be　displeased。'
　　
　　'I　am　sorry；'　Ishtar　sounded　contrite；　'but　you　know　Sinna。'
　　
　　The　fat　priest　chuckled。　'Yes；　I　know　Sinna。　He　taught　me　my　responses　thirty　years　ago。'
　　
　　His　key　jangled　in　the　lock　of　the　gate；　and　then　he　swung　it　open。　'You　must　hurry；'　he　said。　Trok　trotted　forward　with　the　hood　over　his　face；　holding　his　sword　in　the　fold　of　his　robe。　The　priest　stood　back　against　the　wall　to　let　him　pass。　Trok　stopped　in　front　of　him；　and　whispered；　'Ninurta　will　reward　you；　brother；'　and　killed　him　with　a　thrust　up　under　his　chin　into　his　brain。
　　
　　With　a　shout　of　alarm；　his　panion　leaped　to　his　feet；　knocking　over　the　bao　board　and　scattering　the　stones　across　the　pier。　With　two　long　strides　Trok　reached　him　and　chopped　his　head　half　off。　Without　another　sound；　the　priest　fell　backwards　into　the　dark　stream　and；　with　his　robes　ballooning　about　him　buoying　him　up；　he　was　carried　away　down　the　tunnel。
　　
　　Trok　gave　a　soft　whistle　and；　with　the　muted　tramp　of　muffled　feet　his　men　moved　up　into　the　torchlight　with　drawn　swords。　Ishtar　led　them　forward　until　they　reached　the　foot　of　another　steep　stone　stairway。　They　went　up　it　quickly　until　they　came　to　a　heavy　curtain　blocking　their　way。　Ishtar　peeped　around　its　edge　and　nodded。　'The　temple　is　empty。'
　　
　　Trok　stepped　through；　and　looked　about　him。　This　temple　was　even　larger　and　more　impressive　than　the　river　temple。　The　ceiling　was　so　high　that　the　light　from　fifty　torches　was　eaten　up　by　the　shadows。　Below　them　the　image　of　the　god　crouched　over　the　mouth　of　the　shaft　from　which　the　full　force　of　the　aqueduct　spurted　like　a　gigantic　fountain　into　a　deep　pond　with　a　white　marble　coping。　The　corpse　of　the　priest　that　Trok　had　almost　decapitated　was　floating　in　the　pool；　from　which　the　water　spilled　over　into　the　canal　that　carried　it　to　the　city。　Although　the　smell　of　incense　was　thick　in　the　air；　the　great　hall　of　the　temple　was　deserted。
　　
　　Trok　signalled　his　men　to　e　forward。　As　soon　as　they　emerged　from　the　tunnel　they　formed　up　behind　their　captains　in　silence。　Trok　gave　the　hand　signal　and　they　went　forward　at　a　trot。　Ishtar　led　the　smaller　band　through　a　side　door　of　the　hall　into　a　corridor　that　connected　with　the　palace　of　Sargon。　Trok　led　his　men　out　into　the　narrow　lane　behind　the　temple　and；　working　only　from　his　memory　of　the　map；　turned　at　the　second　lane　into　the　wide　avenue　that　he　knew　led　to　the　Blue　Gate。　It　was　still　dark　and　the　stars　blazed　above　the　sleeping　city。