by Sam Barone
Back at his quarters, he told the guard to have the bowmaker and the arrowsmith brought there in an hour. Then Esk kar and Trella walked down to the river to bathe, separating into the two areas customarily reserved for men and women. After a quick wash and even quicker swim, he dried himself, then waited a few moments before Trella appeared, her hair wet and stringy, but glistening in the fading sun. His eyes lingered over her dress, which clung tightly to her still — wet body, and he regretted his summons to the craftsmen. He took her by the hand, ignoring the smiles of the villagers at the gesture, and they walked back to the barracks.
The knock on the open door came as Esk kar finished belting on his sword. Two men stood there, men who differed in aspect as much as any two men could. The bowyer, Rufus, was a hunched — over old man with long stringy gray hair and yellowed teeth. He wore a dirty tunic marked with multicolored stains, and carried with him the scents of the glues and resins of his profession.
The fletcher stood much taller, and his clean tunic marked him as a well — to — do craftsman. He carried a goodly amount of weight on his frame that proved arrowmaking to be a more lucrative occupation than soldiering, though that could be said of almost any trade, even farming. Basically a carpenter who specialized in making tools and small implements, Tevana created many different items for the local tradesmen. As a profi table sideline, Tevana had been making arrows for the soldiers for years. Esk kar knew him by sight but had never spoken to him.
The fletcher spoke first, in a deep and pleasant voice, bowing to Esk kar and giving Trella a quick glance. “Good afternoon, Captain.”
Rufus, the bowyer didn’t bow. “Your summons interrupted me in my work and I lose time while we speak. What is so important it couldn’t wait until morning?” His tone was irritating.
Esk kar had met twice with Rufus, once to accept delivery of some bows and again to complain when one of the weapons had broken after a few days. Esk kar had been ignored on the first occasion and laughed at on the second, for Rufus gave no guarantees. “After all, how do I know what some fool will use it for when it leaves my shop-to hammer a nail or dig a hole? It bent properly here, you paid for it, and that’s the end of it.” Esk kar had to report to Ariamus that he failed to get a replacement.
“Please sit down, Rufus, Tevana. Bring wine for our guests, Trella.” Eskkar kept his voice calm and resisted the urge to draw his sword and sweep Rufus’s head from his shoulders. The old man made the best bows not only in Orak but in the surrounding regions. Now his sons and apprentices did most of the work, but their reputation matched their master’s.
The three men sat down and Trella poured wine, then took her place on her stool behind Esk kar’s bench. Rufus practically snatched the cup from her hand and gulped down half the cup, then gave Esk kar a look that seemed to say he didn’t think much about the taste. Once again Esk kar’s sword hand twitched at the insult.
“Thank you, Captain,” Tevana said after taking a sip. “How may we help you?”
“I won’t keep you long from your work, Rufus,” Esk kar began. “I meet with Nicar tonight. But I wanted to make my needs known to you both as soon as possible. The barbarians are moving toward us, and I’ll need bows and arrows to resist them.”
“I think you’ll need more than that to stop barbarians,” Rufus said with a dry cackle that tempted Esk kar’s sword hand yet again. “But I can sell you all the bows you need, if you can afford to pay for them.”
“Good, Rufus, I’m glad to hear that.” If the old fool was going to take that attitude, so be it. “Trella, tell Rufus and Tevana what we need.”
Trella scraped her stool closer to the table. “My master desires four hundred bows, all of them five feet in length and capable of penetrat-ing leather armor at two hundred paces. As for arrows, we will need one hundred thousand war arrows, plus at least ten thousand target arrows, all properly feathered and tipped with bronze.”
Arrows could be tipped with almost anything, though hardened bone or bronze was preferred. While the bone tip could actually penetrate deeper, the bronze point left a more vicious wound and was more difficult to remove.
“And, of course, my master will need all the other materials-bowstrings, thumb rings, and wrist pads.”
Tevana’s wine cup stopped an inch before his lips while Rufus laughed outright, slapping his hand on the table, his cackle rising in volume until even Tevana turned toward him in annoyance.
The fletcher regained his voice first. “Captain, that’s impossible. No one has ever asked for such a quantity of arrows before-and bronze tipped! Why, that’s at least three, maybe four tons of bronze by itself. And then there’s the wood, the feathers, the glues. I couldn’t possibly make that many…”
Rufus leaned forward, interrupting, and pushing his face toward Eskkar. “If you’d asked for fifty bows, perhaps I would have made them for you. But four hundred? I’ll not even try.” He picked up his cup and drained it, then held it out to Trella for more, staring at her, his business with Eskkar apparently finished.
Esk kar raised his hand as she rose to fetch the wine jug. “No more wine for Master Rufus. We still have much business to discuss.”
“Not with me, you don’t,” Rufus answered, standing and starting for the open doorway. “I’m returning to my shop before the last light is gone.”
Esk kar raised his voice. “Guard!” Outside, the guard straightened up and gathered his spear into a ready position as he moved quickly toward the doorway. “Guard, if Master Rufus tries to leave, kill him.”
They could hear the spear as it hummed through the air, spun down to a level position. The slim bronze tip hovered a foot from Rufus’s skinny chest as he stood in the doorway. He stared at the weapon. Then he turned back into the room. “You can’t threaten me, Esk kar.”
“I’m not trying to threaten you, Rufus, I’m only telling you what’s going to happen. If you cross the doorway, you die on the spear. Now get back here and sit down. We have things to discuss and not much time.”
Rufus returned to the table and sat. “You don’t scare me, Esk kar. I’ll appeal to Nicar and the Five Families.”
Esk kar shook his head. The man must be senile not to understand the events of yesterday. “Rufus, in case you haven’t heard, things have changed in Orak. Do you really think that you can tell the Families you’re too busy to make bows right now? That you’re too important to work to save Orak?”
“I plan to leave the village anyway, Esk kar. I’ll not risk my life trying to stop barbarians. Nothing can stop them. Find someone else to make your bows.”
“If you wish to leave, Rufus, you may. I’ll escort you to the gate myself, right now if you like. But your family stays in Orak and lives and dies with the rest of us. Maybe you didn’t hear Nicar’s words yesterday. He said no one was to leave without his permission. But I’ll make an exception for you. I’m sure all your sons and apprentices will be glad to see you gone.
You’re obviously too old to be the master bowyer any longer.” He watched Rufus’s face blanch as the harsh words hit home.
“You can’t keep me here. I’m a free man and a master craftsman. I have a right to leave if I choose. Besides, there’s no way to make that number of bows in five months.”
“I didn’t say you had to make them all yourself, Rufus. Find others to make them. This is why I’ve asked you and Tevana here today. Both of you must figure out a way to meet my needs. Wood, copper, bronze, cordage, feathers, glue, bindings, skilled craftsmen, whatever you require. If you cannot do the work yourself, find others to share in the labor. Send word to other villages up and down the river.”
Esk kar turned to Tevana. “The same for you, Tevana. If you can’t make that many arrows yourself, then hire others, or buy them. Nicar will arrange payment. So I suggest that each of you return to your homes and begin planning to meet my needs.” The two men looked at each other but said nothing.
Trella’s voice broke in. “Master, you asked me to remind you ab
out the quality of the goods.”
“Oh, yes, of course. Don’t think that you can throw some sticks together and call them bows. They must be perfect. Our lives will depend on them, and I want not more than one broken bow for every fifty delivered.
Tevana, the same goes for the arrows. The shafts must all be straight and true, nocked, feathered, and tipped properly, and all of the same length and weight. I want no differences in the shafts to make my archers miss their targets.”
“Master, do you wish to discuss payment now?” Trella added.
Damn, he’d forgotten the gold, always the most important factor when dealing with a tradesman. He leaned back from the table. “Payment. Yes, we should discuss that. Rufus, whatever your price is for a top quality bow, that’s what we’ll pay. But for every twenty bows you deliver, we’ll pay you for twenty — five. And there will be a bonus of twenty gold coins when the barbarians are driven off.”
He turned to Tevana. “The same for you, Master Fletcher. For every twenty arrows, you’ll receive payment for twenty — five. But you will be personally responsible for the quality of the shafts, no matter who shapes them. My men’s lives will depend on how true they fly and how hard they strike. If the quality of your weapons isn’t perfect, I’ll not hesitate to take your heads off.”
“And the same bonus,” Tevana asked slowly, a hint of a smile on his face, “if the barbarians are defeated?”
Esk kar understood the smile. Tevana had the better deal, since it was a lot easier to craft an arrow than a bow. “The same arrangement for you, Master Fletcher. I just want the weapons, and you’ll both get rich in the process. And when this is over, you’ll be the heroes of Orak, the men who made the weapons that saved the village.”
“Master, it’s time to go, or we’ll be late.”
“Yes,” Esk kar said, “and now we can tell Nicar the good news-that work on our weapons has already begun.” He smiled at the men. “And what time should these fine craftsmen return tomorrow to discuss their plans for making or obtaining the bows and arrows?”
“At one hour past noon, master,” she answered. “If the plans are not complete, we can work on them together.”
“Ah, yes, I had forgotten that. Trella will be working with you both to make sure your plans and schedules for delivery are sound and that you get all the supplies and materials you need. You’ll work with her as you would work with me or Nicar. You’ll find she has a keen mind for details.
So bring what help you need and don’t waste time trying to fool her. It would not be good for your health.” He stood up, noting that dusk had arrived. They really would be late soon.
“Good evening, Rufus, Tevana. I look forward to hearing your plans.”
He saw the guard standing ready at the doorway. The man had heard everything and would spread the word about Esk kar’s treatment of Rufus.
“Guard, the master bowyer may depart.”
When they were gone, Esk kar draped his arm around Trella’s shoulder.
“I think you’ll have no trouble with them now. But if you do, let me know.”
He felt her head lean against his shoulder.
“There should be no problems, master. But I did think of someone else we need to speak to. The dockmaster.”
“The dockmaster? Why him?” The dockmaster managed the six wooden jetties that allowed the river boats to land and the slaves to load and unload cargoes. He also arranged for the transportation of goods into and out of Orak, or onto other boats or carts for portage into the countryside.
“You told Rufus not to leave, but you think only of the roads. It would be easy for either of them to arrange passage on a ship. They and their families could be well away before we even knew it.”
Frowning, he realized she was right. A horseman, he’d only been on a boat once, and he had no desire to repeat the experience.
“That means guards at the docks as well, I suppose. And we’ll have to talk to all the boat captains, too.” Everything he needed required more men, more attention to details, more time that he didn’t have. He sighed.
“Arrange a meeting tomorrow with the dockmaster and Bantor.”
Esk kar looked down at her and felt wonderfully happy. “Now let’s go and join Nicar. Think how glad Creta will be to see you and to feed you at her table. I’m sure you’ll both have much to talk about.”
8
Nicar’s dinner unexpectedly turned into a family affair. His two sons, Lesu and Caldor, had returned that afternoon from a two — week trading trip.
Nicar’s eldest, Lesu, had overseen the small caravan. Leading a pack train of animals loaded with trade goods, he’d escorted seven new slaves his father would resell, no doubt for a fat profit. Trella knew Lesu to be bright and courteous. Only nineteen, he planned to take a wife in a few weeks and would soon be fully capable of carrying on his father’s trading business.
Caldor, a year or so younger than Lesu, sat directly across from Trella.
He fidgeted in his chair for most of the meal, reminding Trella that Nicar’s youngest boy lacked the patience and self — control of his elders. Not that she needed any such reminder. At least tonight he avoided staring at her breasts. She remembered the rough touch of his hands on her body and resisted the urge to shiver.
Nicar must have warned both boys not to provoke Esk kar or to speak disrespectfully to her. Dining in the very room where Esk kar killed two people, Nicar must have wanted to make very sure there wouldn’t be any more accidents. Nobody made the mistake of calling Esk kar a barbarian.
The meal ended at last, Trella and Esk kar left Nicar’s house and passed through the courtyard. As soon as they reached the street, Trella took Eskkar’s hand and held it tight, thankful the evening’s activity had ended. She took several deep breaths, trying to cleanse the memories of that house from her lungs. Nevertheless, she resolved never to return there if she could avoid it.
They walked briskly and Trella had no problem keeping up with Eskkar’s longer stride. She felt Esk kar squeeze her hand in anticipation of the warm bed that awaited them.
“You were very quiet tonight. I thought you’d have more to say to Nicar.”
“It’s not my place to give advice to Nicar, master. Nor should women speak about such things to their men in front of others. At the tables of the nobles, women keep silent when the affairs of men are discussed.” She paused for a moment. “And I didn’t like returning to that house, even to eat. Nothing good happened to me there. I’d prefer never to go back there again.”
They followed the lane as it twisted around a sharp corner. A torch burned at the entrance to the barracks.
“Was it so bad there, Trella? I mean… tell me about it.”
“Please, master, not tonight. It’s just that I’m grateful to be away from that place.”
“Then we won’t speak of it.” He placed his arm around her shoulder as they passed through the rickety fence that marked the entrance to the soldiers’ area. “Perhaps we can speak of other things in our bed.”
She leaned briefly against him in a silent promise. The cool night air had finally driven away the smells and memories of Nicar’s household.
She felt a wave of anticipation rush through her loins, her body already eager for the coming lovemaking.
Once inside their room, Esk kar hung up his sword, then took her into his arms. Her arms went around him, and she held him tightly. They stood that way for a few moments, and she began to relax, enjoying the sensation of being safe once again. The warmth built up between them, and she felt him harden against her.
Esk kar pushed himself away and removed his tunic. “Get under the blanket, Trella.”
She heard the hoarseness in his voice, the first sign of his passion.
“Don’t you want me to build a fire?”
“No. You’re fire enough for me. I’ll keep you warm, I promise.”
He kept his promise, and their body heat soon spread under the blanket.
When their lov
emaking ended, she relaxed in his arms while he stroked her hair. The excitement of lovemaking, still so new to her, kept her passion high, and she enjoyed the feel of his body against hers.
“Master, I saw…”
“Esk kar… call me that when we’re alone, and especially in bed.”
She snuggled against him. “Esk kar, I saw tonight that you did not drink much wine, or even eat much. Didn’t the wine and the food please you?”
“I’ve never tasted better wine in all my wanderings. But now I have to train with the men, and too much spirits make a man weak. If I have to make love to you each night, girl, I’ll need all my strength.”
“Nicar worried you drank too much, that you couldn’t be depended on. I heard him say that the day he gave me to you.”
He sighed. “Nicar was right. In the last few months, I spent too much time in the alehouse. If I’d had more coins, I’d have drunk even more.” He laughed, then his voice took a serious tone. “The night Ariamus ran off, I passed out in the tavern and the men carried me to my bed. I could have been killed in my sleep. That must never happen again.”
“You are wise to keep your head clear, master… Esk kar. You will need all your wits, especially when you work with Corio.”
“I’m glad the Families will accept Corio into their ranks. He’s a good man, I think.”
During dinner Nicar had agreed to elevating Corio to the rank of Noble, mentioning that the nobles had considered his name before.
“Young Caldor didn’t think much of your suggestion that Corio join the noble families.”
“Caldor’s just a boy, Trella, fresh off his first caravan, if you can call it that. Scarcely more than sixty miles to the east and back. Two days’ ride for a man with a good horse.” He kissed the top of her head. “How much gold do you think they took from Drigo’s house?”