Escape from an Ancient Civilization Ch 129

Chapter 129

 

It moved with lightning speed once the decision was made. As soon as the man of Ur recovered, the two wrung out every piece of information he possessed, then summoned the Soothsayer and the princess, since only by integrating their inputs could a complete plan be forged.

The four gathered in the chamber and exchanged views across a single table. The princess spoke gently.

“The Guti prize gold and silver above all else, and Lagab is no exception. Because of this, Ur’s damgar merchants have lived much as before even under Guti occupation. Even among those to be exploited, the damgars are made the exception.”

Delam had long been renowned for trade and commerce across Mesopotamia; as such, her information—rooted in a Delamite network—carried unusual reliability.

“But if they love gold and silver so much, wouldn’t they exploit the merchants even more?” the Soothsayer asked, tilting his head.

“If violence and exploitation of damgars intensify, who would trade with Ur?” the princess replied kindly. “Trade cannot be ruled by brute force. To obtain good goods at good prices requires finesse. What can be taken by force has hard limits.”

Arms folded, Nataek summarized, “So, to secure the wealth they desire, they offer the damgars carrots instead of sticks.”

“Precisely. Thanks to that, we can learn news of Ur through the damgars.”

Leaning back in his chair, Medeus added, “Information leaks out of Ur through the damgars… There’s no way Lagab doesn’t know. He turns a blind eye deliberately.”

Nataek nodded. The Soothsayer glanced between them. “Even if we can get information, isn’t it still dangerous? How do we infiltrate a city like that?”

Silence settled over the table. After a long pause, Nataek spoke. “It isn’t that there’s no method at all…”

“What is it? Well? Out with it,” the Soothsayer urged, fidgeting, making Nataek’s brow crease. If the Guti were lenient to merchants, that meant merchants could come and go. Rather than fishing information from merchants inside, they could enter disguised as merchants themselves. It might, in fact, be the faster, more accurate way.

The three listened as Nataek laid out the plan. “The problem is not pretending to be damgars, but becoming real damgars—appearance, bearing, speech… and goods.”

High‑end merchants draw high‑end clients—and thus high‑end information. That was the target. But to do that, they needed to become high‑end merchants.

Nataek glanced toward the princess; she smiled brightly. “At last, Delam can repay a favor. We have long dealt closely with many cities—Ur not least among them. We shall prepare the goods they favor and the fineries the Guti desire. We will make the two of you into convincing damgars.”

Support from Delam itself—solid beyond hope. Nataek bowed in thanks. Yet beside him, Medeus drummed fingers on the table with a low hum.

“But Teresi and I are nothing like damgars by nature. That one, perhaps,” he said, flicking a glance at the Soothsayer.

Startled, the Soothsayer looked away. “W‑what about me…!”

“Indeed,” Nataek mused. “Those famed damgars always had glib tongues…” He propped his chin and stared at the Soothsayer. Neither he nor Medeus had any affinity with the word “glib.”

“With his patter, their capital, and our stamina combined, we’d be perfect…”

“How do you plan to steal my patter? Want me to teach you how to trade?” the Soothsayer sniffed.

Nataek side‑eyed Medeus, then looked back at the Soothsayer. Even if taught, Medeus didn’t seem the type to absorb such glibness. That left only one option.

“…So it has to be me,” Nataek decided aloud, gathering the discussion. “Here’s the plan: Medeus will learn the merchandise—the goods and their details. I’ll learn the art of handling people—from him. We set the deadline at fifteen days, learn what we must, and depart for Ur. Will that be enough time?”

“Good,” Medeus said.

“Agreed,” the princess said.

“I’m totally in!” the Soothsayer chimed.

…Good. The plan at last took shape.

In that instant, a prompt flickered before Nataek’s eyes:

[Two Merchants] quest has begun.

They were one step closer to conquering Ur.

Soon, each brought what their role required. The princess arrived with all the fineries she owned; even stripping off what she wore, she piled them until the display could rival any gem merchant’s stall.

Setting a blue ring on her palm, she addressed Medeus. “Lapis lazuli needs no introduction. This is not top grade, but its luster rivals it. This should fetch a mid‑high price.”

High‑grade lapis came from Uruk. Though Medeus now served Kish, he had once led Uruk’s soldiery; he knew the basics of precious goods. Even so, he listened carefully to the princess’s theory. The Soothsayer and Nataek watched them for a time.

“I’m better at talking than studying…” the Soothsayer muttered, shaking his head. Nataek did not reply; though he disliked agreeing, he felt much the same. The Soothsayer clapped twice.

“Right then—our turn. I’ll teach you how to never lose a price haggle.”

Nataek didn’t fully trust him—but he respected the man’s survival instincts and silver tongue in this world.

“Fine. Teach me.” He folded his arms.

“First, what is trade? Trade is a magnificent craft where ‘a thousand‑nyang debt can be repaid with words alone.’”

The opening alone made Nataek frown. Could this clown be trusted? But there was no alternative teacher; craft like this was pure know‑how. He had to learn from the Soothsayer.

Dusk settled outside. Even spurning the meal the attendants brought, the four drilled on. Especially Nataek and the Soothsayer.

“Let’s do 30 gin,” Nataek said.

“I can’t possibly sell at that price!”

“There’s nothing that can’t be done.”

“I said no!”

“So you won’t sell for 30 gin?”

They role‑played: Nataek as the pushy customer, the Soothsayer as the shrewd merchant.

“This isn’t something you can buy at that price, my friend!”

In truth, Nataek’s nature was far from a “problem customer.” With little greed for goods, he never fussed over purchases, and that unaffectedness leaked into his act.

“Then I won’t buy. Good day.”

Pretending to haggle, he turned away at once.

“W‑wait!” The Soothsayer raised a staying hand, acting with startling zeal for a mere lesson. “Fine—this then! I’ve never sold this with a ‘3’ in front, but for you—35 gin. Not a coin less!”

Cracking his palm on the hem of his cloak with theatrical menace, he whipped the garment; it billowed… then flipped over his head. Arms flailing under the hooded cloth, he made Nataek snort in disbelief.

“Thirty or nothing. If not, I’m leaving.”

“W‑wait! Hold on! Something’s caught in my hair!”

Whether a clasp or a fringe had snagged, he couldn’t free the cloth blinding him. Nataek sighed and stepped in.

“Good grief. Hold still.”

As Nataek disentangled the ornament, the Soothsayer seized his wrist. “Where do you think you’re going? We’re not done!”

“The customer left ages ago. Have you even sold a thing in your life?”

His act leaned more conman than merchant. Clicking his tongue, Nataek carefully freed the tangle—and a small laugh sounded. The princess, amused, couldn’t hold back.

“Why do you strike your cloak like that?”

Still hooded, he declared, “That’s the key! The smack says, ‘This merchant won’t retreat another step!’”

At last the clasp fell free; the Soothsayer smoothed his wild hair. Nataek shot him a dubious look.

Doesn’t help. Just looks sillier.

“Now you—try! Like this: smack! That’s the final touch.”

He tapped his cloak and insisted Nataek imitate him.

“Must I? I don’t even have a cloak.”

“You said you’d learn my tradecraft! Then mirror me word for word!”

“Your trade just failed. The customer left.”

“That’s because you never meant to buy! Any normal customer folds. Anyway—no cloak? Get something a merchant would wear.”

How had it come to this? Nataek could only give a helpless laugh, while the Soothsayer remained dead serious. The princess shed her own mantle and approached.

“If it must be a merchant’s cloak, perhaps like this? Allow me.”

“That’s alright,” Nataek began, but she curved her eyes sweetly and winked at the Soothsayer.

“Perfection matters, does it not?”

“Indeed! The princess understands!”

He hadn’t expected her to play along. In the end, Nataek surrendered. He bent low so her small hands could reach, and only then did her touch reach his shoulders. Side by side, they looked every inch a handsome pair. As she draped the cloth and tied its intricate knots, Medeus’s expression grew pained.

“…”

Red lips bit down on white teeth. He tried to swallow his displeasure, but the more he saw her smile—and Nataek’s face—the less he could stand it.

At last, Medeus strode straight toward them.

Footnotes:

1. Damgar – term used for merchant/trader in Mesopotamian contexts. 
2. Gin – a unit of weight/value in Mesopotamian trade, used here as a price denomination.