"What?! You've cut off my logistics?! What in the name of the Great Gods are you thinking?!"
"I've only just repelled the rebels from the border, and now you starve my garrison?!"
Facing the High Chamberlain sent from the capital, Lugal-Kisura questioned him with a voice trembling with fury. The captains standing beside him stared in disbelief; they had just secured a miracle for the Empire.
By all rights, the Palace should have been sending golden pectorals and jars of fine wine, yet this was the "reward" delivered by the eunuch's hand.
"Hehe, Satrap, have you forgotten that you were appointed to this desolate border only to atone for your previous 'treasons'?" The Chamberlain remained unruffled by Lugal-Kisura's rage, offering a faint, mocking smile. "Is it really wise to maintain such a tone toward an official envoy sent by the Imperial Palace?"
"I..."
Lugal-Kisura froze. He took a reluctant step back and performed a stiff, formal prostration. "Please forgive me, Excellency. I was merely caught in the heat of the moment; I meant no offense to the Throne."
He knew his position was precarious. Had it not been for the desperate intervention of Lord Hamilcar—Enkidu-Sa's mentor—he would have been executed in the Great Ziggurat's pits long ago. Now that his protector was gone, Lugal-Kisura had no one left to shield him from the jackals at court.
"Satrap, oh Satrap... the high lords of the capital are quite wary of you!" The Chamberlain's tone softened, though his words remained venomous. "I hear that under your training, the soldiers of the North know only 'Lord Kisura' and follow only your commands, treating the Emperor's edicts as if they were desert dust passing through the reeds."
"Our Satrap loves his soldiers like his own sons! He even uses his own silver to pay our stipends when the capital 'forgets'!" One of the captains couldn't hold back, stepping forward. "If the lords were even half as decent, we would gladly die for them! We wouldn't be in this mess!"
"Hehe, now, let's not be hasty. Does your behavior not prove my point?" the Chamberlain replied smoothly. "The moment I question the Satrap, you all jump to defend him. Does that not prove he has a problem with his influence over the legions?"
The captains were silenced. They realized the trap: to defend their general was to provide the "evidence" needed to send him back to the gallows.
Seeing his subordinates fall silent for his sake, Lugal-Kisura felt a flicker of pride. He turned back to the official. "Then, Excellency, how can I earn the trust of the Throne? The North is exhausted. We truly cannot offer much 'tribute' to the lords above."
Lugal-Kisura gave a subtle signal. Understanding the hint, the captains reached into their own belts, pulling out whatever gold and lapis lazuli they had and piling it onto the table.
"This is all we could scrape together. I wonder if Excellency could put in a good word for us?"
"Well said! This is more than enough for me to smooth things over," the Chamberlain said, his eyes lighting up as he swept the treasure into his bag. "Rest assured, Satrap."
"General, are you truly going to endure this humiliation? Those bureaucrats fear you, so they starve us!"
Once the Chamberlain was gone, the anger in the room boiled over. "When you crushed the desert tribes, you should have been made Grand Vizier! Instead, they threw you in a dungeon, and now you're stuck as a mere border guard!"
"Then, in your opinion, what should I do?" Lugal-Kisura sighed. "My family has served the Alluvium for generations. I do not wish to be the one to betray the Palace."
"But the Palace broke its bond with you first!" a captain argued. "You should seek the one who truly holds the Mandate of the Sun. Use your talents for a ruler who deserves them! We will follow you without hesitation!"
Lugal-Kisura looked at the young men before him. He did not want to see them go down with the sinking ship of a hollow dynasty. "Then tell me... who is left to turn to?"
"My Lord... what if we join Gilgamesh? The leader of the Reclamation we just defeated," a young officer suggested after a moment of hesitation. His name was Etan-Hadad.
The room went silent. They had just fought a bloody war against Gilgamesh's Northern Army; how could their general join the man he had just humiliated?
"Are you insane? Our Lord just beat him! If he goes to Gilgamesh now, it'll be like a sheep walking into a lion's den!"
"Don't panic, let me explain," Etan-Hadad said calmly. "I've heard that Gilgamesh is a magnanimous King. He continues to employ capable officials, and even those who refuse to join him are given silver to go home. If our Lord surrenders now, he would be the 'Golden Prize'—a trophy Gilgamesh would treat exceptionally well to show other Imperial officials that they have a future with him."
As the analysis deepened, the others began to nod. There was a strategic logic to it.
"Very well. Since it was your suggestion, I shall let you handle the negotiations, Etan-Hadad," Lugal-Kisura said, his eyes heavy with the weight of destiny. "The lives of the soldiers and people of this border—and my own—now rest on your tongue."
"I hear and obey, My Lord. I will not fail you," the young officer replied with a resolute salute.