I freely told Lot all that had occurred.

  As I spoke, I considered the little he’d told me about Abram and this God Most High. Lot had been kind to me, and though a man of peace, had proven courageous. Did this God Most High draw peaceful, kind men to Him and then grant them prosperity and courage?

  If Lot didn’t care for violence, he must have those among him who did, for he’d kept his wealth and grown richer.

  Abram had lied to Pharaoh, and that lie had worked in his favor to make him even richer. The story about granting Lot the choice of territory—that was strange. Did Abram have the might or authority to take whatever piece of land he desired? Lot didn’t have the armed forces to do that. Yet, Abram had given Lot choice as if it had been his to grant. This God Most High had apparently promised the land of Canaan to Abram.

  I was troubled by all this. Lot had aided me. Yet, I wanted his uncle’s head. Would killing Abram make me an ingrate? For the first time, I was torn in my task.

  I hunched my shoulders, looking behind me. It felt…it felt as the Minotaur watched me. Maybe he did through his wizardry. That frightened me. Could the Minotaur read my thoughts? If that were true—

  I’m not torn, I said in my heart. I’ll kill the acolyte of the strange god. If Abram could lie to those of Egypt and gain by it—he wasn’t a good man, but a sly and clever one like most priests.

  “I have a question,” I said. I’d finished telling Lot about the battle between the giants of Emim and those of the East.

  Lot nodded.

  “How can Sodom and the other cities, who failed before Chedorlaomer fourteen years ago, hope to defeat him now?”

  “That is the question. The answer lies in the Sacred Band of Sodom and the growing influence of its commander.”

  “What’s the Sacred Band?”

  “Our great secret,” Lot said. “Well, I have no claim to it. It’s emblematic of Sodom’s ways that such a band should lead us into war.”

  “You’re going to fight Chedorlaomer?” I asked.

  “No, no, you miss the point. I live near Sodom. I have for many years. But I’m not of Sodom. They don’t want my men or me in their host. I’ll stay in the city as the host of Sodom joins the other kings of the Vale of Siddim to face Chedorlaomer.”

  “What about the Sacred Band? It fights for the gods of Sodom?”

  “It does,” Lot said. “The soldiers of the Sacred Band fights for Ashtoreth, which is odd, as the soldiers of the Sacred Band have sworn off any congress with women.”

  “What?”

  “The Sacred Band is unique. They’re beholden to Ashtoreth, the goddess of sex and sensuality, fertility. Even so, the soldiers of the Sacred Band have sworn themselves devoted to war.”

  “I don’t understand. They don’t have children?”

  “That’s not the point,” Lot said. “Some do, yes. But they’ve sworn off further…contact with women.”

  I frowned.

  “They love…each other,” Lot said.

  “You mean they…have congress with their fellow soldiers?” I asked, dumbfounded.

  Lot nodded. “According to their ethos, a lover—an older soldier—unites with his beloved—a younger soldier. The sexual tie—something I abhor, by the way.”

  “You do?” I didn’t like it much myself, in my gut, but it had not been unknown in Athens. I’d traveled many places and seen many vile customs, and kept my opinion to myself in order to blend in and spy.

  Lot sat straighter. “God Most High has declared sex with man and man, or woman and woman, a sin. He deplores it, calling it defiled and perverted.”

  “Yet you live here,” I said.

  Lot looked away, seemingly troubled.

  “Go on,” I said. “Finish telling me about the Sacred Band.”

  Lot nodded. “The soldiers of the band say their lover-beloved union forges a stronger tie than even tribal or family affiliation. It makes for a fierce war-band, devoted to battle.”

  I considered what I’d heard. As I did, I recalled that Kron had shown respect for the fighting ability of Sodom’s Sacred Band.

  “How strong is the Sacred Band?” I asked.

  “You mean how many soldiers are in it?”

  “Yes.”

  “One hundred and fifty prized soldiers,” Lot said. “Each one is a hardy veteran or youthful stalwart, training many times a week together.”

  I thought about the Eastern phalanx. They’d fought as one, or had attempted it anyway. Could a band one hundred and fifty strong fight in unison so they fought as with one will?

  “What arms do they use?” I asked.

  “They fight with shield and spear and attack with terrific zeal. For thirteen years, they’ve trained for the coming day. They’ll lead the armies of the Vale of Siddim against King Chedorlaomer. Upon them lies the hope of thousands.”

  “I don’t know, Lot. That’s a lot of hope to put on one hundred and fifty soldiers when you’re facing an army of five thousand.”

  “You don’t understand. The Sacred Band had one goal. They will seek out the enemy leader—Chedorlaomer—and kill him. As those of the East wilt from their king’s death, the rest of our host shall swarm them and win a great victory.”

  I rubbed my chin. “Maybe it will work out that way.”

  Lot had become agitated. He called into the tent. “I’ll have that second cup of wine.”

  His wife came out and poured wine into his cup. I accepted more, too. It was good wine. The grapes from the Vale of Siddim grew exceptionally well, making a wonderful vintage.

  Lot didn’t sip as before but gulped his wine. He demanded more. After gulping that, too, he sat in silence.

  The sun had long departed. The stars glittered in the heavens. From Sodom drifted the sound of men singing with martial vigor.

  “King Bera has learned about you, Damon,” Lot said, slightly slurring his words. “Bera has learned about your remarkable dagger. He knows you stood with Kron when the Emim fought Chedorlaomer. He wishes to speak with you tomorrow morning before the host sets out. He wishes to know all you’ve learned about Chedorlaomer.”

  “Of course,” I said, “Will they require anything else of me?”

  Lot made a sour face and then laughed. “I’m going with you to meet the king. They know how I feel about…certain actions.”

  I believed I knew what he meant. I’d be happy to have Lot with me.

  Lot smiled drunkenly. “When I speak to them about God Most High I see fear in their eyes. That is a little wisdom on their part, anyway, as it is wise to fear God, wise to fear the One who can destroy the world if He so desires.”

  I sat in silence, thinking. I enjoyed the renewed vigor of a healed body. Maybe I’d go to war again. Could anyone defeat Chedorlaomer the Conqueror, he who repeatedly smashed giants?

  Could the soldiers of the Vale of Siddim raise a host to compare against Chedorlaomer and his phalanx that moved as one? If all the giants, Amorites and Amurru had joined the soldiers of Sodom and Gomorrah, what a mighty host they would have formed. It had been clever of Chedorlaomer to strike early and with such ruthless speed. I’d never heard of its like.

  Tomorrow, I’d speak to King Bera. Maybe I’d catch a glimpse of the Sacred Band. I was glad to have going Lot with me tomorrow. Those of Sodom…I’d be glad to leave the Vale of Siddim. Tomorrow, what would tomorrow bring when I entered the city?

  Chapter Nineteen

  The next morning, Lot and I ate a large breakfast. Afterward, we set out for Sodom with several of his shepherds. They wore fine garments and carried staves, with knives thrust through their sashes.

  Before this, of course, I’d heard about the Cities of the Plain. There were five, Sodom the chief among them. They might have been better called the Cities along the Plain.

  Sodom stood on a hill, part of a group of hills. To the immediate west was the Vale of Siddim with its orchards, lush fields and many flocks. East of Sodom was higher hills and then mountainous terrain.

  As we approached the city—the closest I’d come to it so far—I saw the stoutness of the walls, a good sixteen feet high and three wide. Guards walked along the parapets, two stopping to peer at us.

  Sodom wasn’t a huge or sprawling city like Knossos, but Knossos lacked walls and had spread out like a man at his ease. Sodom was compact compared to Knossos, stuffed behind the protective city walls.

  The great gate was open for traffic. Merchants and farmers thronged through as soldiers watched them.

  As we approached, I noted men of substance in fine robes and purple cloaks. They sat at the gate, mostly chatting among their group. Once, they turned to listen to a farmer held by two soldiers. The oldest made what seemed like a pronouncement. The farmer began to wail. The soldiers dragged him out of sight, and I don’t know what happened to him.

  Lot informed me they were elders and judges.

  The soldiers were like the ones I’d faced before, obviously well fed and uniformly had sneering countenances. They struck me as proud, even haughty.

  I wouldn’t have wanted to be the farmer dragged out of sight. Who knew what sort of punishment they performed upon him.

  Because of Lot, we passed through the gate without trouble. Several of the elders hailed Lot, and he waved back, genuflecting to the group.

  We moved along a main broad avenue with several farmers and their donkey carts. Branching from the wide avenue were narrow streets. Along many of them, I spied large, two-story houses.

  I thought about that. Sodom’s walls would make it a difficult city to besiege. Once enemy soldiers made a breach, fighting through the stout, protected homes could become a nightmare if hardy people made a stand.

  One thing I noticed. There were soldiers everywhere: men wearing bronze mail coats, carrying big shields, heavy spears and with long curved daggers at their side. Among them were younger, tunic-clad javelin men.

  The city was preparing for war. They’d lost to Chedorlaomer fourteen years ago, having to pay tribute for twelve long years afterward. Clearly, they did not intend to pay any longer.

  Lot gasped and turned away.

  I glanced at him and then turned where he’d been looking.

  There was a group of ugly-looking women thronged on the street, calling to passing soldiers, waving colored handkerchiefs at them. Lot had higher standards it would seem.

  We passed the women and I nearly gagged in revulsion. Those weren’t women, but painted men wearing wigs and garments as women, pretending to be something they were not.

  “They’re male prostitutes,” Lot muttered, perhaps having noticed my reaction.

  The idea astounded me. “The women of Sodom are thus induced to pay for favors?”

  Lot gave me a look. “The male prostitutes aren’t for the women. Didn’t you see them waving to the soldiers?”

  I spat, disgusted. I wanted to leave Sodom as fast as I could.

  Lot pointed out the Temple of Ashtoreth, a large and impressive building with great granite columns. Some of the symbols or statutes before the main entrance were perverse. We had nothing like that in Crete, and I choose not to describe what the symbols entailed.

  From there, we headed for the palace of King Bera, a short distance away. The palace wasn’t as grand or opulent as the Temple of Ashtoreth. The palace had far more soldiers, however, with bronze greaves upon their shins. Some were clean-shaven and some bearded. All had the air of men willing, nay, eager to fight.

  To me they looked—was courageous the right word? They looked eager to take on all comers, as they had an air of martial arrogance and something more. The soldiers struck me as men who took what they pleased, when they pleased, with the idea that the strong did as he willed. Perhaps these soldiers belonged to the fabled Sacred Band.

  Lot spoke to the gaudiest dressed soldier. He and his squad led us down a grand hall. There, a robed man opened wide double doors.

  He shouted, “Damon the Athenian, from Crete, has come to see King Bera. Lot attends him.”

  The shout startled me.

  Lot put a hand on my left wrist. He motioned with his head. I followed him, as he trailed the loud-voiced chamberlain.

  I marveled that they’d allowed me to keep my dagger. Lot’s shepherds no longer accompanied us, and Lot wasn’t armed. Guards stood near the throne. Perhaps that accounted for their oversight or indulgence.

  My eyes goggled as I saw the king on his throne. He was monstrously vast. He wasn’t a giant like Kron, but was extraordinarily fat. His purple robes would have been like a tent to a normal man. He had several chins, with hair sprouting from one of them. His face was bloated as if from eating day and night, which surely he did. His hands were broad and his fingers fatly enormous with many costly rings squeezed and screwed upon them. On his head rested a heavy crown that glittered with jewels.

  “Come near,” Bera said, “Approach my throne.”

  He had a deep voice that reverberated with power. His teeth were white and strong. Might he have been an athlete in his youth?

  There were others near the throne, others who watched him covertly as if they feared his displeasure and would do anything to avoid it.

  Bera snapped his fat fingers.

  A servant rushed forward with a plate of dried figs, bowing his head and holding up the plate. The king plucked one and popped it into his mouth, chewing greedily. He demanded wine. Another servant rushed forward with a sliver plate and cup of wine. Bera plucked the cup and drained the red liquid in a gulp.

  I was big. Yet, Bera had to weigh three of me, at least. I’d never seen such a corpulent man. This was the king who defied Chedorlaomer the Conqueror?

  I approached and bowed low. “Your Majesty,” I said.

  Bera peered at me, with a stain of wine on his lips. He wiped it away with a swipe of his huge hand. “Damon, the Athenian. That is your name, correct?”

  “Yes, Lord,” I said, still marveling at the richness of his deep voice. It almost rivaled that of the Minotaur.

  “Lot, you may go.”

  I looked back in trepidation.

  Lot might have noticed. He made no move to leave.

  Bera glanced at me and then Lot again, nodding slightly. “Lot, you may wait outside the chamber. Damon will rejoin you if he wishes, or join us afterward. It will be his decision. Does that satisfy you, Damon?”

  With a shock, I realized Bera understood my fear. He also toyed with me as a spider would a captive fly. Bera was shrewd, I decided, perhaps farseeing. I needed to be careful in his presence.

  “Thank you, O King,” I said.

  Lot bowed and backed out, bowing each step until he reached the doors, leaving the throne room.

  An attendant set a stool near the throne. Bera pointed at it. I approached and sat on it. The king asked if I’d like any refreshments. I told him Lot had fed me well.

  “We know about the riches of Lot,” Bera said. “He’s a shrewd merchant, a man of the main deal who takes his chance when the opportunity arrives. I applaud that, and I’ve allowed Lot, lo these many years, to approach our great city. I see that much good will come from Lot, even if he is different from us. Do you take my meaning?”

  I inclined my head, as I believed I did.

  Bera stroked the chin with the bristles as he studied me. “It’s said you fought with Kron of the Emim, the champion of the giant king. Tell me exactly what happened during the battle.”

  I sat straight with my hands on my knees as I relayed all that I remembered. I spoke honestly and as forthrightly as I dared.

  Scribes scribbled madly, pressing their styluses into moist clay tablets, recording the event.

  Bera leaned forward even as he ate and licked his fingertips and drank more wine. He appeared to absorb all I told him.

  Finally, I completed the tale.

  Bera sat back, thinking. He eyed me afterward. “The enemy phalanx moved as one,” he said. “That could be a description of the Sacred Band.”

  “Lot said likewise, sire.”

  Bera’s eyes glittered. “You’ve never seen our Sacred Band in their evolutions. They’re spirited, filled with vigor and ideals of glory. Each soldier shows the other that he’s the bravest and best. They vie for excellence. Do you think those of Chedorlaomer fight like that?”

  From what I’d learned previously, those of the East fought differently from last time. The phalanx was a new evolution for Chedorlaomer’s soldiers.

  “The phalanx seemed well-drilled and moved in one accord, sire. Yet, upon reflection, I don’t believe they thought in such a spirited way as those of the Sacred Band.”

  Bera’s eyed moved up and down as he eyed me anew. “You’re a warrior, not a merchant of the main chance like Lot. You know what it’s like to strike and win. I, too, am a warrior of that caliber.”

  “Yes, sire.”

  Bera grinned lewdly. “I see the look in your eye. You think this man has grown old and fat upon the throne of Sodom. Once, I paid tribute to Chedorlaomer. Then, I rebelled. Perhaps you think I thought to take my ease after that, believing Chedorlaomer would never march this far west again.”

  I shook my head.

  “I knew Chedorlaomer would come again,” Bera told me. “Therefore, I forged the Grand Alliance. But I didn’t stop there. I’ve toiled tirelessly to increase the zeal and courage of our soldiers. And not only those of Sodom but of Gomorrah, Admah, Zeboiim and Zoar. I’ve spoken to the giants, and we had a plan. It was a good plan. It failed, unfortunately, because Chedorlaomer struck too soon. Despite that, I’m certain the giants have taken a toll of the army of the East. So, in a way, my plan did succeed. Do you agree with that assessment, Damon?”

  I wasn’t so sure I did, but I said, “Yes, O King, I do.”

  “You please me, Damon. Tell me truthfully now. Tell me honestly, so that it may go well with you. Can we defeat Chedorlaomer?”

  I paused as if to think deeply. How could I know such a thing? I’d never seen the hosts of Sodom, Gomorrah and Admah. I’d never seen the Sacred Band in action. I’d heard tales. I’d just listened to this hugely fat man boast how great a schemer he was. Yet, Chedorlaomer had laid waste to most of it so far. To tell Bera what he didn’t want to hear, however, might be…unwise or imprudent. I certainly didn’t want to face the wrath of Sodom, especially as I was in their clutches.