by Sam Barone
Trella hadn’t said anything. When the lamp added its light to the fi relight, he turned toward her. “Can you ride a horse?”
“No, master. But I’m sure I can learn.”
She kept her voice even, but he heard the disappointment. She knew what the question implied. Esk kar felt disappointed, too, but for a different reason. He’d taught enough dirt — eaters how to ride. Even for an apt pupil with strong hands, it took at least a week to stiffen thigh and leg muscles properly, maybe longer. Assuming that Trella didn’t fall off and break something. Still, she could always walk while she learned.
A knock sounded on the door as Gatus pushed it open and stepped inside. “What’s going on? Why…” he saw the sword on Esk kar’s hip.
“Shut the door,” Esk kar said. “We need to talk.”
Gatus sat down, his eyes moved from Esk kar to Trella and back. He’d seen the extra sentry standing guard outside. “What’s happened?”
“Nothing yet. Trella overheard something at the river. Drigo’s men may try something, maybe to beat or kill me. It seems Noble Drigo is unhappy with Nicar’s choice for captain of the guard, and doesn’t want to wait for tomorrow’s meeting.” Esk kar turned to Trella. “Tell him everything.”
She related what she’d learned at the river and added her ideas of what Drigo meant to do.
Gatus sat there, chewing on his lip, taking his time while he thought.
He turned toward Esk kar. “What will you do? I don’t plan on taking orders from that fool Naxos or even Drigo, not that they’d want me around.
Maybe it’s time to forget all this silly talk and leave Orak.”
Moments ago, that would have been what Esk kar wanted to hear. But he’d watched Trella as she related the story. He knew she wanted to stay, wanted him to stay, though she hadn’t said it. Suddenly he didn’t want to disappoint her, didn’t want to admit that he couldn’t meet Drigo’s challenge.
“No, Gatus. I’m going to stay and fight.” The words came out almost without thinking. “I won’t let Drigo’s bullies chase me off, not as long as Nicar wants me for captain of the guard. That is, if you’ll stay with me.”
Esk kar hated to ask any man for help, but he had no choice. “I’m not sure which of the men we can trust. You’ve lived here for years and know them better than anyone, certainly better than me.”
“Most of ’em hate those guards,” Gatus said, scratching his beard, “but there might be a few fools eager to earn Drigo’s silver.” He took a breath.
“But there won’t be more than three or four. If they try something, when will it be?”
“It has to be tonight, Gatus, or tomorrow at Nicar’s house. Either before the meeting or after it, I’d guess.” He turned to Trella. “What do you think?” Those words surprised him, too. He was treating her as an equal partner in the planning.
“Master, if anyone attacks you after Nicar has confirmed you captain of the guard, it will be taken as a challenge to Nicar. The other nobles won’t like such a thing. But if Drigo can humiliate you before the meeting, then the nobles will not be eager to give you their trust, no matter who’s at fault, not with their lives and property at stake.”
“Well, that seems simple enough,” Gatus said. “We just take all the men to Nicar’s, and if anyone gets in our way…”
“The nobles might take that as a threat, Gatus, showing up at Nicar’s house with thirty armed men.”
Trella had voiced her opinion unasked, but by now neither Esk kar nor Gatus cared that a slave girl was giving them advice. She went on before they could say anything. “And there must not be bloodshed, nothing to make the nobles think they’ll be risking their lives at your hands.”
Esk kar tightened his fist on the table, but restrained the impulse to smash it down again. He’d faced death in battle often enough, but Drigo had more than enough gold to hire a dozen men willing to take their chances. The thought that a pack of curs would be at his throat sent a wave of anger through him, though he kept his voice calm. “Blood will flow, Trella. Unless we leave.”
“Blood in the streets will not give the nobles confidence in you, master.
Can’t you find another way?”
“Damn the gods.” This time it was Gatus who pounded the table with his fist. “My wife was happy to hear we were staying, even if it meant a fight with the barbarians. If I leave now… if we leave with you, Eskkar, there’ll be women, children, carts, animals, a regular little caravan. I’d hoped we could stay.”
So he had three choices, Esk kar thought. Leave alone with Trella, lead a group of soldiers with their wives and children, or stay and fight both the nobles and the barbarians. Well, the time for prudence had passed.
He couldn’t admit to being worried in front of Trella and Gatus, and he wouldn’t take back his words. “We’re staying, Gatus, if you will.”
Gatus snorted. “Put it on my shoulders, will you? I’m too old to go wandering about the countryside, not while there’s a chance to stay here.”
“Then we’ll fight,” Esk kar said. “We just need to have Nicar confirm me as captain of the guard. After that, we can take care of Drigo.”
Esk kar felt better now that he’d decided. “Gatus, make sure no one leaves the barracks tonight, and keep a dozen men awake and ready.”
“Yes, Captain.” Gatus stood and gave Trella a grin. “You’ve earned your keep already, girl. You may have saved my head as well as your master’s from being broken. Try to keep him out of trouble for the rest of the night.” He turned to Esk kar. “Will you still meet with the men tomorrow?”
“Yes, right before Nicar’s meeting, as we planned.”
“And what are you going to do tomorrow?”
“I’ll think of something before then,” Esk kar said.
He walked Gatus outside, watching the old soldier disappear into the darkness. Esk kar leaned against the house, thinking about what the last few hours had brought. For the last fifteen years, he’d been on his own, making his own decisions and living with the consequences. He’d survived, thanks to his fighting skills, but there wasn’t much more that he could add to that accomplishment.
Now he was listening to a girl, someone trained to look beyond the obvious, to see what he would likely have missed. More than listening, he and Gatus were starting to rely on her. Esk kar had never given heed to any woman’s advice before, and now he was seeking it out. Part of him wanted to ignore her words, to make his own decisions, even mistakes, if it came to that.
That would be foolish, he knew. More than that, it might get him killed.
He hadn’t survived this long by ignoring the truth. Realistically, if Trella hadn’t put the pieces together, he would probably have walked unaware into whatever Drigo’s men had planned for tomorrow.
So he might even owe her his life. Esk kar didn’t like admitting such a debt, but no warrior could ignore such an obligation. Between her and Nicar, his life had changed. Nicar’s summons had offered him a future.
Now Trella’s advice might offer even more. At the very least he owed her the chance to help. He still wanted her, wanted her even more every hour, and if keeping her with him meant having to swallow his pride and accept her advice, then he would do it. She’d saved his life once. Maybe she could do it again. After all, things couldn’t get much worse. Perhaps the time had come to try a different way.
Esk kar took one last look at the guards, then went back inside, closing and securing the door behind him. She still sat there, outlined by the remnants of the fire, waiting. Waiting for him to decide not only his fate, but hers.
Nothing mattered, he realized. He needed to be with her, keep her for his own. Everything else meant nothing, including his foolish pride.
“We will think of something, won’t we?”
Trella awoke before dawn, slipped out of bed and dressed. The night had passed uneventfully. Esk kar sent out for a roasted chicken, bread, nuts, and wine, and they’d eaten the dinner with the door closed. The fre
sh chicken had been well cooked, though neither noticed it. She’d filled his wine cup but refused any herself. When he drank half the cup, she watched as he refilled it with water, leaving the rest of the wine untouched. She hadn’t said anything, but felt grateful her master knew better than to drink too much on such a night.
Gatus came back twice, once to report everything in order and men in place, and the second time to grab a hunk of chicken and tell Esk kar to get some sleep. Before retiring, Esk kar blocked the entrance with the table and benches, and he’d placed his sword and knife next to the bed.
In the darkness he held her in his arms, but didn’t speak, and she knew he was thinking about tomorrow. To her surprise, Esk kar soon came up with a plan for handling the guards. Dangerous to be sure, but perhaps a way to avoid bloodshed.
When nothing more remained to discuss, Trella moved astride him, feeling a thrill at her boldness. She kissed him again and again, then leaned down and rubbed herself against him, moving her breasts slowly over his chest and stomach, then to his lips and back again. Suddenly she felt him inside her, heard herself moaning at the wave of pleasure. She kept her movements slow, enjoying the new sensations that passed through her, holding him back until he cried out, both of them forgetting all about the world outside.
When the lovemaking ended, he’d fallen asleep almost at once, a deep sleep that permitted no worries to interrupt it. She slept lightly, waking often, waiting for the dawn. Today she wanted to be at the river early.
At the first sign of daylight, she woke Esk kar and they opened the door.
Nothing greeted them except two tired guards standing at their post. Moments later Gatus arrived, yawning and carrying a long wooden trencher filled with bread and cheese, breakfast for all of them, including the men who’d watched Esk kar’s door all night. Afterward, Trella went with Gatus into the barracks and offered to clean some of the soldiers’ garments.
They filled a basket with as much as she could carry. She’d hoped Adad would accompany her back to the river, but he’d already gone to get some sleep, tired after his all — night vigil, so Gatus chose another man to accompany her.
At that early hour, only a few women had come to wash their household’s clothes, but more would arrive soon. The women recognized her immediately. They gathered around while she worked, introducing themselves, eager to hear the latest gossip from someone who might actually know something.
Trella reassured them, but kept busy with her washing. Eventually they took the hint and moved away. Trella found herself washing the same tunic over and over before she saw Shubure approaching.
Unnoticed now, Trella moved farther downriver, wading out into deeper water that reached nearly to her waist. Even so, Shubure did not come near until her own washing was well begun. This time Trella’s eyes studied the shore and the other women, but no one was paying any attention to them, only the bored guard whose gaze wandered up and down the river.
As Shubure drew near, Trella let the tunic slip from her hands. The current took it straight to Shubure, who caught it up, then handed it back to Trella. As their hands touched, Trella let three copper coins slip into the girl’s hand. Shubure’s eyes looked down for a moment. Then she turned slightly away, searching those along the river bank.
“Your master meets with Nicar at midmorn. Drigo has ordered Naxos to keep Esk kar from Nicar’s house. They want to embarrass him and Nicar before the meeting, in front of the other nobles. If he resists, Naxos will kill him. Naxos will be the new captain of the guard.”
So it would happen this morning. Trella turned away, so no one could see them talking. “Did you learn anything else?”
“No, nothing. Except Drigo said he will rule in Orak within a few days.
He and his son are already making plans. They expect to gather much gold before the barbarians arrive.”
“I thank you for your news, Shubure.”
“My mother and I thank you for your coins, Mistress Trella. She’ll be able to feed our family for a few days.”
“If your mother can be trusted to keep her tongue, I’ll send more coins to her. If you learn anything more, you tell her and she can tell me.” It would certainly be easier and safer for Shubure to meet with her mother.
Shubure nodded. She moved away as new arrivals splashed closer to them, eager to speak with Trella. But Trella gathered up the wet clothes and waded carefully back to the shore. She lifted the heavy bundle in her arms, the wet dress clinging to her legs, as she walked back toward the gate.
The guard followed, no doubt watching her figure.
She found Esk kar waiting for her outside the barracks. He followed her inside and closed the door.
“Did she come?”
“Yes.” She repeated what Shubure had said. Surprisingly, the news seemed to calm him. He went to the table and sat down, his brow fur-rowed. She spread the wet garments across the bed, then sat down across from him. “Will you keep to your plan, master?”
He looked up, his face grim. “Oh, yes. I’ll take care of Naxos.”
She knew what he meant. “If you kill Drigo’s servant, he’ll hire someone else to murder you. He won’t tolerate the insult. And the nobles…”
“If Naxos’s death is too bloody for them, Trella, then we’ll move on. I won’t spend my days wondering when Drigo’s assassin will find me.”
Trella studied him carefully. Not a hint of worry in the man. He seemed relaxed and assured, no trace of last night’s doubts. She realized how different he was from the merchants and traders she’d grown up with. A warrior, he needed only to know what to do. He would work out the how, and once begun, he would be like an arrow launched from a bowstring-no hesitation and no turning back.
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
He smiled at her, a real smile full of warmth and caring. “Perhaps. I’ve been thinking about the meeting. I still need to talk to the men. But I think I will need your help.”
She smiled back and reached her hand out to his across the table. “Tell me what to do.”
5
In two hours, I meet with Nicar and the Five Families,” Esk kar began, speaking to Gatus and the three men he’d selected as subcommanders.
They sat shoulder to shoulder at the small table in Esk kar’s quarters.
Gatus sat next to Esk kar. Bantor, Jalen, and Sisuthros faced their new captain across the table. A water jar and cups rested between them.
Bantor, a reliable man who could follow orders, was a little older than Esk kar. Jalen, about five years younger, had come to Orak from the west.
An excellent fighter and one of the few good horsemen in Orak, Jalen had quarreled with Ariamus and his toadies even more than Esk kar. Sisuthros had just reached his twentieth season, but had sharp wits to match his skill with a sword.
Except for Gatus, none had commanded any significant number of men before. Ariamus had kept them in the ranks, promoting his favorites who followed his orders without thinking. Esk kar had marked these three as men of courage and ability who could be relied on. Most of all, they’d dared to disagree with Ariamus.
“There’ll be much arguing at Nicar’s meeting, but most of the nobles will decide to stay and fight. Afterward, Nicar will go to the marketplace and speak to the people, as will I. You and the men will be there, to keep order. Follow my lead, and help sway the villagers. If any in the crowd get out of control, don’t be afraid to break a few heads. There will be plenty of blood shed before this is over, so we might as well start today.”
Esk kar studied them. They seemed steady enough. “Bantor, you’ll take charge of the gates. Assign three men to each. No one leaves the village without permission from Nicar or me. No one-and that includes any of the Five Families.”
Their faces showed disbelief, their doubts clearly visible. Breaking a few heads-that they could understand. But standing up to the Five Families and their armed guards clearly involved more danger.
Esk kar saw the question on the man’s f
ace. “We cannot have men leave the village and take with them anything or any slave we’ll need to defend it,” he explained. “So if a man wants to leave and take, say, a craftsman or builder slave with him, we must not allow that. Our lives may depend on such men.”
“What about those going out to the fields?” Bantor cocked his head.
Better to question than not, Esk kar knew. “I don’t mean those just going for the day, Bantor, only those planning to leave the village permanently and taking their goods with them. If any want to leave on their own, fine.
But no men of property, taking either slaves or tools or baggage, leaves without our approval.”
“Noble Drigo’s men are in the streets and in the market, talking to everyone,” Bantor offered. “They’re acting as if they already rule the village.
Some are saying Drigo will take command of Orak and the soldiers.”
“Well, I have a surprise for Noble Drigo,” Esk kar said, thanking the gods for Trella’s warning, “but we’ll talk of that later.”
“Men won’t want to give up their slaves, Esk kar,” Gatus remarked.
“They’ll make trouble if you try to stop them.”
Esk kar nodded. “If they have something we want, we’ll pay them for it, be it slave or tool or weapon. Nicar and the Families will pay them, that is.”
The men exchanged glances but said nothing. He ignored the looks.
He needed them to believe in him, at least until after today, when they’d see for themselves how events played out.
“Starting tomorrow, we begin recruiting and training. In the next few months, hundreds of people will be pouring into the village, fleeing the barbarians. We must be ready to arm and train them.”
“You can’t train men to fight barbarians, not in a few months,” Jalen objected, his voice rising in protest.
“We’re not going to go out and fight them man — to — man. Instead, we’ll battle them from the wall we build around the village. We will fight them with archers. Any man can bend a bow. Gatus and I have discussed this and it can be done.” Esk kar turned toward Gatus, who nodded agreement.