by Sam Barone
There will be more battles to fight, and not just against barbarians. Others from distant lands may come against us. To guard Orak and make sure we are safe, you will have to take control of all of the land surrounding us, every farm and village for great distances in every direction. It will be hard work, even for a great leader of men. But if you wish to rule, then we must begin tomorrow. It’s a task that may last a lifetime.”
“What you ask won’t be easy. It’s one thing to fight from behind a wall.
It is another to carry war to distant places and defeat your enemies in their own lands.”
“I have no doubt that you will find new ways of making war. But those battles are in the future. First you must decide whether you wish to rule here.”
He gazed into her eyes in the gathering darkness. She was asking him to rule but he knew, without saying the words, they would rule together, that she would decide many of the rules and customs that would govern Orak’s daily life. She would select who would have power and who would not, and he would need to listen to her advice. Many of his soldiers and the villagers would know the truth-that she ruled as much as he. Esk kar would see it in their eyes every day.
None of that mattered anymore. He’d accomplished enough. Even his father’s death had been avenged. No one would ever forget his name now.
Besides, all of Orak knew Trella was touched by the gods, that she was truly a “gifted one.” There would be no shame in sharing power with her.
They would rule together.
“Or,” she offered, as his silence began to lengthen, “we can leave Orak in a few weeks.” She lowered her voice and rested her head against his chest. “We can take gold and men, and go wherever you wish.”
“You’d leave the village with me? To go wandering around the countryside, risking danger every day?”
She laughed, and the bright sound rang out across the tower. “I’ve risked my life every day for the last six months. I’ve been enslaved, sold, given away, stabbed, and nearly killed. Would there be any more danger out there than that?”
He squeezed her to him again. Much too late, he knew, for such a choice.
Besides, he remained as much in her spell tonight as that first night when she came into his arms. His fate had been sealed then, and his life would revolve around her until the spell was broken or until one of them died, and perhaps not even then, if the gods’ promise of an afterlife held true.
“We’ll stay, Trella, and we… both of us, will rule in Orak.” He reached out to touch the wall before him, the gritty feeling oddly satisfying. “Our blood is already in these walls. You’re right. There must be a new wall, greater than this.”
Trella laid her hand on top of his. “The wall will hold our voices for a hundred years, perhaps even two hundred. As long as the wall stands around Orak, we’ll be remembered.” She turned her head slightly to look up at him. “I can help you rule over a great village.”
“You will guide me in all things, and I will protect you.” He barely heard her next words, so softly did she speak them.
“Protect us, Esk kar. I carry your child. Now you must protect both of us.”
He lifted her chin up and looked into her eyes as he’d done that first night. “You’re with child? When were you planning on telling me?”
“If Orak fell, then there was no need. I didn’t want to give you something else to worry about. It’s still months away, but I’m certain I carry our child. Annok — sur agrees.”
She turned again, still staying within his arms, but now she faced out toward the fields. Deep shadows hid the dead bodies scattered across the plain. Except for the faint glow from behind the hill, the darkness was nearly complete. Fewer campfires would burn tonight, Esk kar knew.
“There’s so much to do, Esk kar. You must control the soldiers, establish outposts and villages up and down the river, overcome those who resist, and plan for the next barbarian migration.”
She sighed. “The livestock and grain must be brought back from across the river. There will be more fighting, Esk kar, but in the future you’ll be leading it, not fighting yourself, not ever again. In all the time we’ve been together, I’ve asked you for nothing for myself, but this you must promise me. The great sword must stay in your scabbard.”
That might not be such a bad thing, Esk kar decided, his thoughts flashing back to that terrible fight in the Alur Meriki camp. He was getting old.
Even among the steppes people, hard fighting was best left to the young.
He brushed away such thoughts from his mind. “I’ll leave the fighting to others,” he said finally, unable to keep a hint of regret from his words, “but I’ll keep your sword at my side, in case it’s needed.”
He took a breath. “And you will have to decide how to rule Orak, what customs and decrees will come to pass, what families to ennoble, how we will get enough gold to pay for the soldiers and for rebuilding Orak and everything else we will need. I see there’s as much work in keeping power as winning it. Yes, there is much for you to do, Trella.”
The sun had set completely now. The darkness before them stretched all the way to the hills. When she spoke, the question surprised him. “What would you name our child, should the babe be a son?”
He thought a moment, then shrugged. “I know only barbarian names, and they’re not fit for our son, who will rule Orak after us. And villager names are as one to me. Do you have a name that you would choose?”
“I’d like to honor my father, since I owe so much to him. His name was
‘Sargat.’ If you allow, we could name our son after him.”
Esk kar, still getting used to the idea of being a father, considered her request thoughtfully. Even among villagers naming a son was the husband’s responsibility and not something to be passed off lightly. But her father’s name did not convey the qualities of a leader. It was an ordinary name, used by many.
Esk kar knew some names had power of their own, as certain words had influence over men. He had no preference for any name himself, but still…
“Sargat… it’s a good name, but a common one. Our son should have a name that shows strength and power.” He thought again. The name
“Sargat” had no equivalent in his native tongue, but if he had to translate it…
“Suppose we call him Sargon. That’s a name that I haven’t heard before and it seems to me to carry strength. Would that honor your father?”
“Sargon,” she repeated, saying the strange name aloud, as if listening for the gods to approve. “Sargon. Yes, that is a fine, new name and it honors my father as well. He will be called Sargon, and he’ll give honor both to his grandfather and his father.”
“Sargon, who will rule the village of Orak,” he repeated.
“No, Orak is no longer a village. It has grown into something greater.
It is a city, with a wall and brave men to defend it, a city that will grow in strength and have greatness of its own. For the first time villagers and farmers joined together and resisted the barbarians. Who knows what we can do in the future?”
“It should have its own name, then, a new name, like the name of our son,” Esk kar suggested. “Maybe we can think of a new name for Orak as well.”
“Can you choose a new name for Orak, then? A name that will make them forget the old village, and instead remind them of you and your victories?”
Esk kar kept silent for a long time, thinking about names of places.
Trella, as always, let him take his time. “When I was a boy, we spent part of a summer far to the north, by a tiny stream we called the Akkad. I saw my first lion there. It was the last happy time I had with my family.” He smiled to himself at the distant memory. “How does ‘Akkad’ sound for the name of our city?”
“Akkad… Akkad. Esk kar of Akkad… Sargon of Akkad. Yes, it’s a strong name, Esk kar, like your own. Perhaps the lion spirit will approve, and give his protection to both Sargon and the city of Akkad. But let’s not tell the other
s yet what new name we plan for Orak. The new name can come in its own time, when everyone sees what we have accomplished.”
So the City of Akkad would come to be in a few months, or whenever she thought it was ready. He understood her reasons. The village had endured so much change in the past months, with more to come. It would be wise to let them get used to some things gradually.
A cool breeze rustled through the stillness and for a moment the air smelled clean and fresh. He heard the bodyguards, waiting below to give them privacy, shifting their feet, probably impatient to join the revelry.
“Since there is to be so much work tomorrow, then perhaps you could find time tonight to please your husband.” His hands moved up from her waist and he cupped her breasts and squeezed them, enjoying the feel of her body through her dress. That, too, hadn’t changed from their first night. Her body, the scent of her hair, even her smile still excited him. “Or have you already forgotten your wifely duties?”
She leaned her head back and placed her hands atop his and pressed them to her. “No, master, I await your pleasure.” Her voice was soft and her tone as seductive as that first night in his bed, only now she sounded happier than he’d ever heard her.
Esk kar shook his head at the mystery of women. “Sometimes I wonder, girl, who was the master and who was the slave.”
Her answering laugh sounded low and enticing, and they turned away from the darkened battleground and its dead. They faced the village, brightly lit by many torches and fires as the villagers celebrated their deliverance. His village now… no… his city. And someday, if his luck stayed true and the gods approved, it would be his son’s. But tonight-tonight there would be more magic, and tomorrow would take care of itself.
Epilogue
The war drum sounded, faint at first, then growing in intensity and changing into a rolling thunder as a second and third merged in, the rapid strokes summoning every soldier and villager to his post.
Esk kar’s feeling of contentment vanished in an instant as fear and doubt rushed through him. The bench flew backward as he rose from the table.
He grabbed his sword from the wall as he ran down the stairs and out into the courtyard. A quick — thinking soldier brought out Esk kar’s horse. He leapt astride the animal and galloped out of the courtyard, racing through the lanes, scattering stunned and fearful villagers as he burst past them.
At Orak’s main gate soldiers milled about in confusion, cursing as they gathered weapons and climbed to their stations. Esk kar jumped down from the still — moving animal, dashed into the tower, and raced up the steps.
Emerging into the sunlight he found Gatus waiting.
Gatus pointed to the east and Esk kar’s eyes took in the still — barren plain.
He saw the warriors lined up across one of the hilltops to the southeast.
Automatically he began to count them, but Gatus saved him the trouble.
“About sixty of them, I’d say.” The old soldier spat over the wall. “Not enough to attack us, not yet.”
The distant warriors sat on their horses, staring in silence at Orak and its wall, or perhaps at the dead bodies of their kinsmen still littering the landscape. Moments passed, but the horsemen made no move, just waited patiently, as if expecting something to happen.
Esk kar felt just as confused as his men. Four days after the Alur Meriki failed to capture the gate, they broke camp and moved off to the south.
Three days had passed since then, and he didn’t understand why their horsemen would be back raiding around Orak. They had exhausted what little grass had grown back, and the barbarians lacked the strength to assault Orak again. Nevertheless, none of Orak’s inhabitants dared leave the safety of its walls to return to their farms. So a raiding party didn’t make sense.
The center of the line of horsemen parted. The grand standard of the chief of the Alur Meriki rose up from behind the hilltop, preceding another handful of riders. The warriors closed behind their leader as he passed through. Surveying the scene before him, the Great Chief sat on his horse in front of the standard. The only movement was the wheeling of crows and vultures circling over the bodies of his dead warriors. Finally he began to move forward, and the whole line of warriors followed, all riding slowly down the hill. At the bottom they set their horses to a canter and rode through the ruined fields toward the village. They stopped just out of bowshot.
As Esk kar watched, the clan’s sarrum paced his horse a few steps forward. He drew his sword and raised it high over his head. The bronze blade flashed golden in the sun, as the sarrum, taking his time, moved the sword from side to side, from horizon to horizon, three times. Then he lifted it toward the sky once again. He held it there for a few seconds, before lowering his arm until the blade pointed straight toward the tower where Esk kar stood.
The words just carried across the gap between them. Esk kar cocked his head to hear, but he understood them well enough.
Esk kar ignored the murmur that moved across the wall, as each man asked his companion what the words meant. Esk kar climbed onto the face of the tower, feet spread out and balanced precariously on the narrow ledge. The thickness of the tower’s wall tapered near the top and he barely had enough room to place his feet. Gatus grasped his captain’s belt from behind, keeping a firm grip on his leader.
Drawing his sword from its scabbard, Esk kar held it up to the sky for a long moment, whirled it three times around his head, then lowered the tip until it pointed directly at the Alur Meriki leader. Esk kar took a deep breath, and bellowed his response in the barbarian tongue, the harsh words echoing out over the empty plain between them.
The Great Chief thrust his sword once more up to the sky, sunlight again glinting off the blade, then drew it down, sheathed it, and turned his mount. Without a glance back, he put the horse to a gallop, his men wheeling their mounts around as they followed him, the grand standard waving in the breeze.
Esk kar watched as they rode back up the hill, crossed the top, and disappeared. Once vanished from sight, it was as if they had never existed.
He sheathed his blade, and jumped lightly down from the wall.
“What did he say?” Gatus couldn’t keep the curiosity out of his voice.
“What did you say? I heard your name.”
Men packed the top of the tower, his commanders, soldiers with their weapons, even a few villagers, fear showing on their faces. Everyone stared at him, mouths agape.
“He said, ‘I am Thutmose — sin, leader of the Alur Meriki.’ ” Esk kar shook his head in disbelief. “Somehow Thutmose — sin survived. How he managed that… the gods must favor him.”
Gatus stepped closer to his commander. “What else did he say?”
Esk kar took one last look at the empty hill before answering, raising his voice so that all could hear. “He said, ‘You fought bravely, but it is not yet finished. We will return another day.’ ”
Nervous whispers ran through the crowd at the threat, and Gatus had to lift his voice to be heard. “And your answer?”
“I told him I am Esk kar, son of Hogarthak, that I had repaid the Alur Meriki for my family’s blood, and never to come to these lands again.”
The soldiers nearby turned to repeat their captain’s words, breaking into cheers and yelling their approval. A smile crossed Esk kar’s face, though there was no warmth in his eyes. He lowered his voice, so that only Gatus could catch his words. “And I said I’ll be waiting for him.”
The End… Of the Beginning
Historical Footnote
And so began the era of walled cities. Others sprang up across the land, each fortifi ed with its own great wall and surrounded by farms and herds, each a center of local trade and industry. These cities contended with one another for supremacy for many thousands of years, with power shifting from one to another and back again. But less than seven hundred years after the battle of Orak, in approximately 2500 b.c.e., armies united under the ruler of the City of Akkad swept over all the lands to the
south, occupied by those who called themselves Sumerians. The Akkadians defeated the Sumerians and ruled over them for many years. The Akkadians had achieved their victories primarily through the skill and strength of well — organized infantry, equipped with powerful bows, and trained in siege warfare. It was history’s first recorded use of an army of foot soldiers skilled in the use of the bow.
The land the Akkadians conquered and ruled became known to the western nations as Mesopotamia, the land between the rivers. Leading this first conquest was the first great king in recorded history. His name was Sargon and he built the world’s fi rst empire, uniting by conquest not only his own lands, but also the lands surrounding Mesopotamia. Eventually his son, also named Sargon, would extend the empire’s reach as far as the shores of the Mediterranean Sea to the west and India to the east. From these places, the influence and power of walled cities would spread to many new lands, including one that would come to be called Greece. The Greeks would learn much from their eastern neighbors, and build many walled cities of their own, one of which would be called Athens.
In the east, the great walled city of Akkad would endure for many, many generations, even after the shifting of the Tigris gave rise to an even greater city called Babylon that would raise its walls higher than any other.
But that is another story.
FB2 document info
Document ID: fbd-f03836-d1a1-3b43-1988-bce6-df6c-715493
Document version: 1
Document creation date: 26.08.2012
Created using: Fiction Book Designer, FictionBook Editor Release 2.6.6 software
Document authors :
About
This file was generated by Lord KiRon's FB2EPUB converter version 1.1.5.0.
(This book might contain copyrighted material, author of the converter bears no responsibility for it's usage)