by Sam Barone
The fault was mine. I did not restrain him… didn’t teach him to respect others…”
Trella reached out and touched his arm. “Nicar, there’s no need to say such things. We understand. Without you, Esk kar and I wouldn’t be here today. We owe you more than we can ever repay. But now we must think of the future. If we survive the battle, there are years of work ahead of us and we need your help.”
“That night, the crowd wanted to kill me.” Nicar turned to Esk kar.
“Why did you have your men protect me? It would have been easier for you with me dead, my House broken. Each day since, I’ve waited for your revenge.”
“Let there be no talk of revenge, Nicar,” Esk kar answered, seeing things clearly now. “You’ve been nothing but honest with me. I put no blood feud between us. I know you had nothing to do with it. Caldor paid the price for his deed and that can be the end of it.”
True enough, and Nicar hadn’t known anything about it. If he had, the attempt would never have been made-or it would have been better planned and executed.
Nevertheless Esk kar couldn’t stop from saying what he felt. “If Trella had been killed, it might have been different.” If she’d died, he would have taken every drop of blood from Nicar and his family, then left their bodies to rot in the sun.
Nicar looked at both of them, almost as if seeing them for the first time. “You’ve changed much, Esk kar, since we first met. You’ve become a great leader. And Trella has become a noble woman, wise beyond her seasons. I failed to see what the rest of the villagers saw months ago when they first called her a great lady. And now I find mercy from you both.” He shook his head as if all this were beyond his understanding.
“Do not talk of mercy, Nicar, only of friendship,” Trella replied. “We need your wisdom. The village has changed greatly in the last few months.
If the barbarians are driven off, we can never return to the old ways. Orak will become a great city, larger than any of us can imagine, and every man’s hand will stretch out to take it as a prize. All will hear of Orak and come here for protection. Such a city must be governed by a strong ruler, and this ruler will need a wise council to advise him.”
Nicar smiled wanly. “I’m sure as long as Esk kar has you at his side, Lady Trella, he’ll need few others to advise him.”
“There are many people in Orak, Nicar,” Esk kar said, “and more will come in the years ahead. You told me once that you built Orak and you wanted it to last. Because of your will, I stayed to fight. But many hands will be needed in the future to make your dream come true, and the customs and laws of the village must be more than the whims of the Five Families.”
Esk kar took a breath. “I ask for your help, Nicar, help to make Orak into a great city for all the people who will dwell here, including your own family.”
“I give my help gladly and that of my son, Lesu. He’s a good man and grows in wisdom each day. There will be no blood feud between our families, I swear it.” Nicar paused for a moment. “What is my future?”
Trella had prepared Esk kar for this question. “Tomorrow the three of us will walk the streets of Orak together. That way all can see that there is no anger between us, and that you remain an important voice in Orak’s defense. Once the barbarians are upon us, the people will have other things to think about.”
“And afterward,” Trella added, “they’ll remember only your good works in their behalf.”
Nicar seemed much moved by their words. He stood up and bowed.
“You’re right, Esk kar. I’d forgotten about Orak and its future. That is more important than anything else. And now, Captain… Lady Trella… I thank all the gods that you’re both here in Orak.”
After Nicar had gone, Esk kar left word that they were not to be disturbed, then bolted the door to the outer room.
“So I am to be the strong ruler of Orak. When did you decide that, wife?” As he said the words, he picked her up in his arms and carried her into the bedroom.
“I did not want your head to swell too greatly,” she answered with a smile as he helped her remove her dress. “Nicar had to be told what his place will be. He’ll be grateful now and give you his support.” She breathed a sigh of pleasure as Esk kar began to run his hands over her body, carefully avoiding the bandaged areas. “And with Nestor terrified of his own plots, he, too, will support you. Along with Corio, who rises in importance every day and owes everything he has to you, there should be no problems from the Families. For a while, at least.”
“Then be quiet, girl, and let’s begin working on the Sixth Family.”
19
Under the noonday sun, sweat covered Esk kar’s half — naked body.
Calluses had formed on his hand to match the grip of his new sword, and in five days he’d shattered half a dozen posts. The fine blade kept a sharp edge, and its weight now felt natural to him. His muscles rippled under his tanned skin. Nothing remained of the soft village life. He’d never been as strong and fit in his life.
Jalen stood breathing hard on the other side of the training post. Each man countered the other’s moves. But instead of striking at each other, the thick wooden beam took the brunt of the parries, thrusts and hacks. Any barbarian who made the mistake of thinking them easy victims would not live long enough to regret his error.
A horse galloping toward them made them look up. No one ran a horse in the crowded streets, unless on urgent matters. As the rider dismounted in a swirl of dust, Esk kar saw the Hawk Clan emblem on his chest.
“Captain, I’ve word from Sisuthros. He’s met the Ur Nammu and asks that you come at once.”
Esk kar muttered thanks to the gods. Time was running out and he had to take a force across the river in a few days, with or without the Ur Nammu. But if they could help…
“Well done, Ugarde. Find yourself another horse. We’ll leave at once.”
He turned to Jalen. “Get ten men ready to ride.” They needed the extra men. Barbarian patrols might be encountered anywhere.
Esk kar checked his new sword, making sure the edge was still keen, then wiped it down with a rag. So far no tarnish spots had developed. Eventually tarnish would cover the blade completely, though Asmar claimed the metal would only become stronger as a result.
At the well Esk kar washed himself down before drinking deeply. He dressed in his leather vest and cap despite the heat. Then he dispatched a messenger to inform Gatus and Trella where he was going.
They rode out of Orak at a gallop, riding the last horses remaining in the village. Four hours of steady riding across the countryside found them many miles from Orak. Riding slower now to conserve the horses, their eyes constantly searched hilltops and horizons looking for dust clouds that might indicate either a friendly patrol or a hostile war party.
Instead they found another Hawk Clan rider coming toward them at an easy canter. He told them that Sisuthros followed only a dozen miles behind. They kept riding, and soon saw four riders approaching them.
They met near a stand of rock that rose above the tall grass. One rider proved to be an Ur Nammu warrior. The man appeared near exhaustion and every rib showed on his chest. He rode a thin pony that looked more spent than its master.
Esk kar dismounted and extended his hand in greeting. He remembered the tribesman from the camp, but hadn’t spoken with him and didn’t recall his name.
“Greetings, Esk kar, war leader of Orak,” the man began formally. “I’m Fashod, sent by Mesilim, to learn if you still seek our aid.”
“I welcome a warrior brother, as I welcome the Ur Nammu. We’ve food and drink for you, but first, tell me of Mesilim. He’s well?”
“Yes, but all are weary and the horses grow weaker each day. As soon as it grows dark, the Ur Nammu will slip past the last of the Alur Meriki patrols,” he paused to spit on the ground at the mention of the name, “to join you in your fight. I’ve shown war leader Sisuthros where they will cross. Now I must inform Mesilim that you await his arrival.”
&nbs
p; “Your news is good, Fashod, but first you must rest. We’ve food and water.”
Sisuthros, Esk kar, and Fashod sat together on the sand, apart from the rest of the men, most of whom had never seen a barbarian this close. Jalen stayed with the soldiers and kept reminding them not to stare. Fashod drank thirstily from one of the water skins, then devoured two days’ worth of the bread Esk kar’s men carried.
“That horse doesn’t look strong enough to make it back,” Sisuthros commented. “It’s been pushed for a long time.”
Esk kar nodded. A few weeks of hard riding could finish most horses.
He’d noticed the animal, too, and it started him thinking. “Fashod, take one of our horses in exchange. You may need a strong beast tonight.”
Fashod looked at each man in turn. Until now he’d been polite but aloof, doing his duty as his clan leader ordered it and nothing more. The offer of a horse, even for a temporary exchange, was a signifi cant gesture.
He put down his food and wiped his mouth with the back of his arm.
“Chief Esk kar, I thank you. My mount is a good one and needs only a few days’ rest and grass to recover.”
“Finish your food and drink,” Esk kar said, as he climbed to his feet, thinking the animal would need at least a week to recover. “I’ll go and see to the horse.”
Returning to where Jalen waited, he told him about the horse swap.
“Pick someone small who can walk and ride Fashod’s horse back to Orak.
Get him started at once. Otherwise he’ll get left behind if we have to run.”
Esk kar glanced back at Fashod. “Jalen, I want you to return at once to Orak. If all the Ur Nammu are as bad off as this man, they’re going to need weapons, food, and fresh horses if they’re to fight at all. Tell Trella and Gatus what they need.”
Jalen nodded, and went off to choose a horse for the exchange.
Esk kar returned to Fashod. “A horse will be ready soon, along with extra food. Tell Mesilim we await him here, to escort him to Orak.”
“Mesilim will be pleased,” Fashod said.
Jalen came over, leading a horse stripped down to the halter. Fashod gathered his weapons and the food, and galloped off to the east. A few moments later, Jalen cantered in the opposite direction, quickly passing one of his men who’d started walking Fashod’s horse on the same path.
“Mesilim and his men may be finished,” Sisuthros remarked. “He would’ve sent one of his best men to find us. They may not be of much use to us after all.”
Esk kar had the same grim thought. “Maybe. We’ll see what Mesilim has learned. Besides, it can only help to have thirty or so horsemen protecting our rear. And tired or not, they’ll kill at least that many before they’re finished.”
The Ur Nammu didn’t arrive until long after midnight and even in the moonlight they looked played out. Esk kar bade Mesilim rest while Orak’s riders kept guard. At dawn they started moving west, though at a slow pace. Some Ur Nammu horses were going lame, and their riders spent as much time leading them as riding. Everyone kept looking behind, wondering when a horde of Alur Meriki would appear.
Esk kar took stock of Mesilim’s band. Esk kar counted thirty — eight men, five women, and seven children of various ages riding forty — four horses.
There were no infants or small children. Those would have been left behind to die or killed by their parents. Both men and beasts looked ready to drop. The exhausted children, eyes wide with hunger, looked as pitiful as the warriors. All would reach Orak none too soon.
Esk kar walked his horse between Mesilim and Subutai. From a captured Alur Meriki scout, Mesilim had learned much, and they’d watched the Alur Meriki raiding parties traveling south. For men trapped within an ever — shrinking circle around Orak, any information was welcome.
By nightfall they’d journeyed far enough away from danger and close enough to Orak that Esk kar began to relax. They made camp, and the Ur Nammu fell asleep as soon as they fi nished eating the last of the soldiers’ food.
In the morning Esk kar gave half his men to Sisuthros and told him to return to his patrols. The extra men would help the subcommander begin the final burning. The Alur Meriki would reach Orak soon. Esk kar was determined that they find nothing of value in their path. Crops burned in every field. Houses, corrals, anything that would burn would be put to the torch. Only the wells remained untouched. With so many small streams and irrigation canals nearby, it would have done little good to contami-nate wells by dumping dead animals into them. He hoped the Alur Meriki would leave them as clean when they moved on.
They topped the last hill ringing the plains around Orak at midafternoon. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of the village’s walls.
During the day Esk kar had twice been challenged by patrols from the village. Bantor’s men would take no chances on a barbarian band slipping through their midst.
The men and women riding behind Esk kar began to talk at the sight of Orak, its wall rising out of the earth. Even at this distance, they saw the gangs of men laboring before the wall, digging out the final stretch of the ditch.
None of the Ur Nammu had ever seen a village so large, nor a wall so strong and tall. To the north the flooding of the fields had begun. The south side would be flooded as soon as the Ur Nammu departed.
“Rest tonight, Mesilim. Tomorrow you can give me your advice as to how you would attack Orak.”
Mesilim and his son stared at the village, impressed as much by its size as its wall.
“With all the people driven here by the Alur Meriki,” Esk kar commented, “there are nearly three thousand people in Orak. More have crossed the river.”
“Until now,” Mesilim began, “I didn’t believe you could resist the Alur Meriki. Now I see that you may have a chance.”
“More than just a chance.” Esk kar smiled with satisfaction. “There’s much to show you.”
They rode slowly toward the gate and as they neared the walls, the laborers paused to stare at the unusual group. Soon curious villagers crowded the walls. A few began cheering when they recognized Esk kar riding at the head of the small band of allies. Esk kar led them away from the main gate and guided Mesilim’s people along the ditch that ran parallel to the south wall, then on until they reached the river.
As they paced their horses along, people kept shouting from the wall and waving their hands in greeting. The Ur Nammu seemed astonished at the sight and Esk kar realized that they hadn’t given any thought about how they might be received by the villagers. When the little band reached the river, they turned once again. They’d camp alongside the wall at the river’s edge, out of sight of anyone on the hilltops to the east.
An open space awaited them, with two water barrels, hay and grain for the horses, a great stack of firewood, and two bullocks on spits, already butchered and ready for roasting. A pile of blankets lay stacked beside the water barrels. A small rope corral would hold their horses, with fodder placed inside. The animals had sorely lacked grain in recent months.
Esk kar signaled their journey’s end by dismounting. “Camp here, Mesilim. If there’s anything you need, it will be provided. If you bathe in the river, be careful. The current is strong except along the water’s edge. It can pull down a horse and rider even at this time of year. I’ll return in a few hours.”
He led his horse through the river gate and found Trella waiting for him. Two soldiers now guarded her at all times. He took her hand and they walked back to the house. Inside the courtyard, Trella went to fetch him clean clothes while he headed to the well to wash the dirt and horse smell from his body. By the time he’d finished, Trella rejoined him, a clean tunic and undergarment in her hands.
“I watched from the wall,” she said. “As soon as you left, they rushed for the food and water. They must be nearly starving.”
“They’re in bad shape. They were lucky to get past the Alur Meriki’s lines. But they’ve already paid their way with information. They captured an Alur M
eriki messenger and tortured him until he told them all he knew.
The messenger revealed that they plan to send a force across the river in four or five days’ time. That means we’ll have to meet them across the river soon. By then, warriors will be on the hills surrounding Orak. A few days later, they’ll be ready to attack.”
“You’ll be back before then, I hope.”
Her tone implied that he would be in more trouble with her than with the barbarian raiding party if he weren’t.
“Yes, even if the ambush fails, I’ll come straight back. I’ll leave in three days. It will be a slow march north to the ambush site and we may need time to prepare. Did you make the preparations I requested?”
“We met with the craftsmen, and everything should be ready by noon tomorrow. But you didn’t tell me they had women and children.”
“There were so few of them, I didn’t think it was important.”
She looked at him, but Esk kar held up his hand. “I know, everything is important. But truly, they didn’t mention them except in passing. Do they really matter?”
“Perhaps. But now there are more things I must do. Come inside. Supper is on the table.”
“Yes, wife,” he answered dutifully. Village women could prove a trial for their men. There were advantages to being a barbarian after all, especially when it came to dealing with women.
Two hours later Esk kar returned to the Ur Nammu camp dressed in his best tunic, but wearing his short sword, and accompanied by Jalen and Gatus, whom he introduced to Mesilim and Subutai.
Much had happened in the last hours. The horses had been fed, then led to the river to be washed and groomed. The men and women had taken their own baths, probably the first in many weeks. Their clothing had been soaked and scrubbed, and now was drying on their bodies.
The children had been fed, then wrapped in blankets. The littlest ones slept, their stomachs full for the first time in weeks. For the adults, food was now the main order of business. They gathered around the fires, eagerly slicing off chunks of roasting meat. Four wineskins had been provided, enough to give everyone a good drink, but not enough to get anyone drunk.