wilbursmith_warlock-第116部分

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hey　were　able　to　admire　the　depth　and　strength　of　the　walls；　towers　and　redoubts　that　had　been　built　up　layer　upon　layer　over　the　centuries。
　　
　　At　last　Trok　stood　back　from　the　table。　'There　is　no　weakness　that　I　can　divine；　magician。　You　were　right　the　first　time。　It　will　take　three　years　of　hard　work　to　break　through　those　walls。　You　will　have　to　do　better　than　this　to　earn　your　three　lakhs。'
　　
　　'The　water；'　whispered　Ishtar。　'Look　to　the　water。'
　　
　　'I　have　looked　to　the　water。'　Naja　smiled　at　him；　but　it　was　a　serpent's　smile；　cold　and　thin…lipped。　'There　are　canals　supplying　every　quarter　of　the　city；　enough　water　to　grow　Sargon's　six　terraces　of　gardens　that。　reach　up　into　the　sky；　and　to　water　and　feed　the　city　for　a　hundred　years。'
　　
　　'Pharaoh　is　all…seeing；　all…wise。'　Ishtar　bowed　to　him；　'but　where　does　the　water　e　from？'
　　
　　'From　two　mighty　rivers。　After　the　Nile　itself；　the　mightiest　rivers　in　the　world。　A　supply　of　water　that　has　not　failed　in　this　millennium。'
　　
　　'But　where　does　the　water　enter　the　city？　How　does　it　pass　through；　under　or　over　those　walls？'　Ishtar　insisted；　and　Naja　and　Trok　exchanged　a　look　of　dawning　prehension。
　　
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　　Half　a　mile　north　of　Babylon；　outside　the　city　walls；　on　the　east　bank　of　the　Euphrates；　at　a　point　where　the　flood　broadened　and　ran　sluggishly；　stood　the　temple　of　Ninurta；　the　lion…headed　winged　god　of　the　Euphrates。　It　was　built　on　stone　piers　that　extended　out　into　the　river。　The　multiple　images　of　the　god　were　engraved　on　a　frieze　that　ran　around　all　four　outer　walls。　In　the　Akkadian　language；　chiselled　into　the　stone　lintel　over　the　entrance；　was　a　warning　to　all　who　sought　to　invade　the　sanctuary；　calling　down　the　wrath　of　the　god　upon　them。
　　
　　Ishtar　the　Mede　worked　a　charm　on　the　threshold　to　nullify　the　curse；　slitting　the　throats　of　two　captives　and　splashing　their　blood　on　the　portals。　Once　the　way　was　cleared　Trok；　with　twenty　troopers　at　his　back；　strode　through　into　the　temple　courtyard　where　all　the　purple…robed　priests　of　Ninurta　were　gathered。　They　were　chanting　and　gesticulating；　waving　their　arms　towards　the　intruder；　splashing　water　from　the　Euphrates　in　his　path；　invoking　Ninurta　to　build　up　an　invisible　wall　of　magical　power　to　turn　Trok　back。
　　
　　Trok　strode　through　the　wall　without　a　check　and　killed　the　high　priest　with　a　single　thrust　through　the　old　man's　throat。　Wailing　at　such　sacrilege；　the　other　priests　prostrated　themselves　before　him。
　　
　　Trok　sheathed　his　sword　and　nodded　to　the　captain；　who　manded　the　guard。　'Kill　them　all。　Make　certain　no　one　escapes。'
　　
　　The　work　was　done　swiftly；　and　when　the　courtyard　was　littered　with　purple…clad　bodies　Trok　manded；　'Do　not　throw　them　into　the　river。　We　do　not　want　the　city　guards　to　see　them　float　past　and　guess　what　we　are　about。'
　　
　　Then　he　turned　to　watch　Ishtar　who；　once　all　the　priests　had　been　disposed　of；　had　entered　the　courtyard　to　work　another　charm　to　counteract　the　baleful　influence　of　the　god　they　had　invoked。　At　the　four　corners　he　burned　bundles　of　herbs；　which　emitted　a　thick；　greasy　smoke　that　was　repugnant　to　Ninurta　and；　as　Trok　remarked　jovially；　to　all　gods　and　lesser　mortals　equally。　Once　Ishtar　had　pleted　the　purification；　he　led　the　way　into　the　holy　places　of　the　temple；　and　Trok　and　his　troopers　followed　him；　with　blood…caked　blades　bared。
　　
　　Their　cleated　sandals　rang　hollowly　in　the　gloomy　recesses　of　the　high；　cavernous　hall；　and　even　Trok　felt　a　religious　chill　as　they　approached　the　image　of　the　god　on　his　plinth。　The　lion's　head　snarled　silently　and　the　wings　of　stone　were　spread　wide。　Ishtar　declaimed　another　lengthy　prayer　to　the　god　to　placate　him；　then　led　Trok　into　the　narrow　space　between　the　rear　wall　and　the　idol's　back。　Here　he　pointed　out　a　heavily　grilled　gate　built　into　the　body　of　Ninurta。　Trok　seized　the　bars　of　the　grille；　and　shook　them　with　all　his　bear…like　strength。　They　did　not　move。
　　
　　'There　is　an　easier　way；　all…wise　Pharaoh；'　Ishtar　suggested　sweetly。　'The　key　will　be　on　the　body　of　the　high　priest。'
　　
　　'Fetch　it！'　Trok　snapped　at　the　captain　of　his　guard；　who　ran。　When　he　returned　there　was　blood　on　his　hands；　but　he　carried　a　bunch　of　heavy　keys；　some　of　them　as　long　as　his　forearm。　Trok　tried　two　in　the　lock　on　the　grille；　and　the　second　turned　the　ancient　mechanism。　The　gate　swung　open　on　creaking　hinges。
　　
　　Trok　peered　down　a　descending　spiral　staircase　into　darkness。　The　air　ing　up　the　deep　shaft　was　cold　and　dank；　and　he　heard　the　sound　of　running　water　far　below。
　　
　　'Bring　torches！'　he　ordered；　and　the　captain　sent　four　of　his　troopers　to　take　down　the　burning　torches　from　their　brackets。　With　a　torch　held　above　his　head；　Trok　started　down　the　narrow；　unprotected　stairwell。　He　went　gingerly；　for　the　treads　of　the　stone　steps　were　slimy　and　slippery。　The　sound　of　running　water　grew　louder　as　he　went　down。
　　
　　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