Book Read Free

Eskkar Saga 02 - Empire Rising

Page 8

by Sam Barone


  Korthac looked at Trella carefully before continuing. “In truth, Lady Trella, Egypt is a vast and fertile land of many villages, some of them larger than Akkad. Egypt has much gold and silver, as well as great flocks of cattle and other beasts. The numbers of its people are beyond counting.”

  “Do these villages have walls around them?” Corio sounded unconvinced.

  “Many do, Noble Corio,” the stranger answered calmly. “Not all, but some have raised walls such as yours for protection, to keep out bandits or invaders.”

  “Akkad is the first village in these lands to build a fortified wall to protect itself,” Corio added, a hint of skepticism showing through. “A strong wall is not such an easy thing to raise.”

  “I can only tell you what I have seen, Noble Corio,” Korthac said, raising his hands slightly in deference. “Lady Trella asked me to speak the truth, and I have done so.”

  “Then we should thank you for your honesty, Korthac,” Trella said, again speaking before Corio could reply. “But now, it grows late and the council still has some business to attend to. Would you be able to call upon us tomorrow, say, at the hour before noon? Then we will have time to speak with you at leisure and you can tell us much more about what you have seen in your travels and this land called Egypt.”

  Korthac took the dismissal gracefully. He stood and bowed respectfully. “Of course, Lady Trella, I understand. I will return at that hour.”

  Trella had risen when he did and she bowed as well, giving Korthac a pleasant smile as he left the room. She waited until he stepped out of earshot before she turned to Corio and Gatus. “This stranger took a great chance, crossing the desert with such valuable trade goods, with only the hope of establishing a House here in Akkad.”

  “Whatever his reasons,” Corio answered, “he is here and with his goods. Every merchant adds to the wealth of Akkad. Let him establish his trading house, if he can pay his tax of twenty gold coins.”

  “No, Corio,” Trella said firmly, “I think not. Tomorrow we will tell him that he must pay forty gold coins if he is to do business here.”

  “Ishtar’s eyes, Trella,” Gatus swore, “Mantar wailed for days when he had to pay twenty. He claimed he would be reduced to begging in the streets. And that only a month ago.”

  “Still, Mantar paid the tax,” Trella said. “And remember, Korthac is a stranger. Mantar lived here all his life.”

  Mantar dealt in livestock, mostly goats and sheep, that supplied milk and cheese. He had complained bitterly about the amount of the tax, but he had been one of those who fled the city before the barbarians arrived, and now had to pay to reestablish himself. Trella had no sympathy for those who had refused to defend Akkad.

  “And I doubt Korthac will cry as loud as Mantar did,” Trella said.

  “I think it is important to learn as much about Korthac as possible.” She turned to Gatus. “How many men were in his caravan, how many slaves, how many animals? What kind of people did he bring with him? Find out where he is staying and talk to the innkeeper. Let us all see what we can find out, and we’ll meet here tomorrow at midmorning. We can speak about this before we see Korthac again. I will make sure Nicar is here as well. He sees much in men that we may miss.”

  The Noble Nicar had led the city before the invasion, and had entrusted the city’s defense to Eskkar. Nicar had also given Eskkar a slave girl named Trella.

  “What is it about Korthac that worries you, Lady Trella?” Corio sounded surprised at her concern. “He seemed polite enough.”

  Trella shrugged. “Nothing worries me yet, Corio. But we can afford to be cautious. And isn’t it strange that a merchant would cross the great desert at such risk, before he was sure of what awaited him here? Was he unaware that the Alur Meriki were passing through these lands, killing anyone they encountered? Why didn’t he send an emissary ahead of him?”

  Corio opened his mouth to reply, then closed it again. In the last few months, he’d learned not to dismiss her thoughts.

  “Think on it, Corio,” Trella went on. “And you, too, Gatus. Let us all learn what we can. Now if you will excuse me, my body calls to me once again.”

  She walked into the front room, her two guards rising as she entered.

  Her friend and companion Annok-sur waited for her as well, getting to her feet as Trella crossed the room. The two women stepped side by side into the square and began the walk back to Eskkar’s house. One guard walked ahead of them, the other behind. Both men kept their hands on their swords and their eyes moving about.

  Only a few months ago Eskkar’s enemies attacked Trella in the street and nearly killed her. The men who tried to assassinate her had died under the torture. In a true barbarian rage, Eskkar had threatened to burn the city to the ground and kill every inhabitant if it happened again. No one doubted him. And so the guards remained wary and suspicious, exactly as Eskkar and Gatus instructed. They didn’t want to face Eskkar’s wrath or their own shame should another attempt on Trella’s life take place.

  Annok-sur, as alert as any of the guards, stayed close beside Trella.

  The wife of one of Eskkar’s subcommanders, Annok-sur had nearly twice Trella’s seasons. Her husband Bantor and a group of soldiers had departed Akkad a few days before Eskkar left for the north. By now Bantor’s force would have ranged far to the south of Akkad, carefully watching from afar the progress of the retreating barbarian migration, and making sure they did not double back for another attack on Akkad. The barbarians had been driven off, but they still had many warriors, and rumors of their presence, even as the distance grew, still frightened Akkad’s inhabitants.

  “Something troubles you, Trella?”

  “Yes, Annok-sur, but we will speak of it when we are home.”

  Korthac returned to the modest inn he’d picked for himself and his men. Walking through the lanes, he ignored the openmouthed stares of the villagers. Although the clothing he and his bodyguard wore came from these lands, their darker complexions, burnished even deeper by months in the sun, marked them as strangers and worse, foreigners.

  Nevertheless, Korthac smiled pleasantly at anyone who caught his eye, offering greetings and friendly nods. He needed to gain acceptance from these simple folk. There would be plenty of time to teach them proper respect later on. Then they would kneel in the dirt when he passed, afraid to lift their eyes to his lest they lose their heads.

  More than a month had passed since he left Magabad. He’d entered Akkad with only sixteen men, carefully chosen to make sure they looked more like servants and laborers than fighting men. The rest of his force remained far to the west, awaiting his summons while Ariamus roamed the countryside seeking men willing to fight for gold, even with foreigners at their side.

  Fortune had smiled on Korthac when it delivered Ariamus to him.

  Korthac couldn’t image a more perfect tool. Ariamus knew the city and the countryside, knew the people, and knew how to command the rabble that would soon sweep Korthac to power. The man’s desires for power and wealth made him easy to control. As long as Ariamus remained obedient and loyal, he would continue to be useful. Korthac remembered the astonishment in Ariamus’s eyes when he saw the bags of gemstones. The man’s greed would be the halter in Korthac’s firm hands.

  Korthac had brought two bags of jewels with him, more than enough to establish himself in Akkad. In a few days or a week, he would grudgingly pay whatever trivial sum the Akkadians demanded of him. After that, he’d buy a house and set up a base of operations. He would bring more of his men into Akkad by ones and twos, increasing their number while he established an innocent trade in gemstones with the local merchants.

  It would be lucrative business for the Akkadians, as Korthac planned to be less than astute in his dealings. That would win him many more friends even as he earned a reputation as a poor trader. And he’d bestow other gifts that would gain him more supporters.

  At the same time, Ariamus would continue gathering men. In Korthac’s first few talks after
saving Ariamus’s life, Korthac hadn’t been sure that his newly acquired servant and ally could deliver the numbers of fighting men he promised. But as he traveled closer toward Akkad, Korthac saw for himself the devastation in the countryside and numbers of masterless men wandering about. Many had flocked to join Ariamus and his men, and his newest subcommander promised to recruit even more. When Korthac had enough followers, one night’s fighting would see the city his.

  Tomorrow his campaign would begin. He had already started learning who the important traders and merchants were, and soon he would begin buying their support with judicious and discreet bribes. Korthac didn’t begrudge the gemstones that would be required; he’d make sure he got most of them back when he seized command of the city.

  Akkad did impress him despite what he’d told Trella. The city bustled with excitement. Korthac saw new construction or rebuilding on every street, while freshly planted crops flourished in the surrounding fields.

  The inhabitants looked healthy, content, and well fed, with little illness in evidence. Even the slaves looked remarkably satisfied with their lot. Egypt might have one or two cities larger, but none matched this place in energy.

  No, Akkad would serve his needs perfectly. Perhaps someday he would raise an army large enough to return to Egypt and vanquish his enemies.

  He put that thought out of his mind. It would take years to fully exploit Akkad, and right now he needed to concentrate on the task at hand.

  He’d spoken to the innkeeper and several others already and learned that Eskkar had traveled north while sending other soldiers to the south.

  Korthac could scarcely believe his luck. The foolish ruler had divided his forces and left the city in the care of his pregnant slave girl.

  If Ariamus could raise men fast enough, Korthac would have more than enough followers to take control of Akkad. It might take only weeks instead of the months he had envisioned. While the fool Eskkar chased bandits all over the countryside, weakening his forces in the process, Korthac would husband and increase his own numbers.

  Korthac reached his lodgings and passed inside. He nodded pleasantly to the innkeeper and sat down at a table. Except for the owner and his family, only Korthac and his men now stayed here. The other guests had been encouraged to seek accommodations elsewhere by the innkeeper, after a large gift from Korthac. The tiny inn normally couldn’t accommodate so many travelers, but his men could bear such a minor hardship as sleeping shoulder to shoulder on the dirt floor; after the brutal weeks journeying across the desert, the inn’s floor seemed almost luxurious.

  Even though Korthac had selected these men with care, they still had difficulty acting as simple bodyguards instead of trained warriors. He only allowed them to carry knives, befitting their role, and kept their newly acquired swords in his room. He’d promised to kill the first man that quarreled with any of the local inhabitants. So far, they’d shown restraint, knowing their days of plunder and pillage would come soon enough.

  The innkeeper rushed to his table, carrying a jar of wine and cups while his obsequious wife appeared with a bowl of dates and a chipped plate holding fresh bread. Korthac thanked them both with a smile, ignoring their filthy hands and the dirty utensils. The innkeeper no doubt imagined he would make a tidy profit from his foreign guest. The thought of someday taking it all back from the man helped Korthac’s appetite. The barely adequate wine smelled of vinegar, but he drank it gratefully while he picked at the already stale bread.

  Today’s meeting with Trella had gone better than he’d dreamed possible. Perhaps the fool Lord of Akkad would get himself killed and solve another problem. This Eskkar didn’t even have an heir, though Korthac doubted many would rally to a son of an upstart barbarian. Korthac knew it took years of trust, years of obedience to a ruler before the people accepted without question the passing of authority from father to son.

  Gatus, the temporary leader of the city, looked and acted like a plain soldier, one with little imagination. And Corio was nothing more than an artisan, only recently allowed into the company of what these locals called the Nobles. No, these simple villagers hadn’t rallied around Eskkar out of choice, but out of necessity.

  Eskkar had left the city, taking nearly a quarter of its soldiers. Another sixty or so had gone south, so that left little more than a hundred men here in Akkad, not even enough to defend the walls properly, not without the villagers supporting them. If the soldiers here could be eliminated, the other two forces, even if they got together, would be too weak to retake the city, especially after Korthac convinced the villagers to fight for him. There would be more than a few disaffected locals eager to gain a better place and position. Taking a sip of wine, he grimaced at the taste.

  He knew how to win over the rest of the villagers. Hacking a few to death in the marketplace would solve that problem.

  That left only Trella to be reckoned with. She would be curious, possibly even suspicious, but a stranger with a dozen men wouldn’t worry her or any of the others. Perhaps he could even win her over, keep her occupied and amused with stories of Egypt while Ariamus gathered more men. A few jewels might even do the trick.

  Ariamus hadn’t found out much about Trella, but the innkeeper had plenty of stories to tell. She seemed to have her wits about her, but she was merely a pregnant girl, too young to have any real understanding in how to deal with men or rule a city. More important, she lacked experience in warfare, especially the kind of fighting Korthac had waged in Egypt. No, she and this Eskkar had attained their positions by the luck of a barbarian invasion, and in the confusion they had gained control of the biggest city on the Tigris. Korthac needed to deal carefully with her, but he would make sure she learned only what he wanted her to know. Until it was too late. Then she, too, would kneel at his feet.

  He tasted a few of the dates and wished again for the fruit of the trees from the village of his youth. Somehow the food in this new place didn’t seem quite as satisfying as that of Egypt. He assumed he would get used to it, however, especially when served to him on a golden platter by his new slaves. Taking another mouthful of wine to rinse his mouth, he thought more about Trella. She had little beauty, especially with her body already distorted by the coming child.

  She did have a presence, a sense of command, one Korthac would enjoy breaking. He had seen how the others deferred to her, though that might be simple fear of the barbarian Eskkar. Perhaps she would make a good pleasure slave. She’d been a slave once, so it only seemed fitting to return her to her true station. He pictured her kneeling naked at his feet, begging for the chance to please him. Yes, that was something pleasant to anticipate. Almost as pleasant as the prospect of the entire city submitting to his authority, eager to satisfy his every command.

  In the morning he would meet with the council, plead his case, and begin negotiations over whatever trifling taxes they demanded. Tomorrow would be the first day of his new campaign. It wouldn’t be a long campaign, but when it ended, he would rule first here, then over all the surrounding countryside. Eskkar would be dead, and his woman would be Korthac’s slave, for as long as she pleased him. Or she, too, would be dead.

  Chapter 4

  Though Trella lived only a few lanes away from the Council House, the journey home always took much longer than expected. Shopkeepers and villagers filled the streets, and the sight of Trella and her guards made it impossible for her to go about unnoticed. Everyone wanted to exchange a few words with her, or even just call out a greeting.

  She and Annok-sur took their time, pausing often to chat with those she encountered. Only a few months ago, Trella had walked the entire city almost every day. But now, between her pregnancy and her new role as Eskkar’s representative, she had less time to wander about and meet the inhabitants. Nevertheless, Trella wanted to stay close to Akkad’s people, and so she took advantage of every opportunity to speak with them.

  This late in the afternoon, women, their daily chores completed, made up most of the crowd. More than an h
our remained before they started preparing their family’s evening repast. Few could resist the opportunity to speak with Lady Trella, the wife of Akkad’s ruler. Young mothers showed off their new babies, matrons pointed out their marriageable daughters, and older women or young widows presented themselves. Many of these sought Lady Trella’s help in finding a husband, a duty she had assumed during the siege, as the casualties mounted among both villagers and soldiers.

  The war against the barbarians had improved the status of those serving as Akkad’s soldiers, and Eskkar increased their pay enough so the more senior men could afford wives. As with every task Trella undertook, no matter how minor, she gave it her full attention. At her urging, Eskkar summoned the more experienced soldiers, and Trella met with each of them, taking the time needed to learn what kind of husband each would be, and which woman would best suit him.

  She soon had a good number of marriages to her credit. Because she’d helped arrange the unions, the husbands treated their newly acquired women properly, and the brides attended to their duties. Neither wanted the Lord of Akkad or his wife to hear of matrimonial difficulties. Even newcomers to Akkad soon learned to take advantage of Lady Trella’s knowledge and services, not only as a marriage broker, but also as an honest advisor for almost any situation.

  By the time Annok-sur and Trella reached Eskkar’s compound, she’d promised to find husbands for two more women. Two soldiers guarded the entrance, and one held the gate open for the mistress of the house. They passed into the courtyard, where the scent of jasmine hung in the air, and tulips in pots scattered along the inner walls offered some color to offset the drab mud-brick walls.

 

‹ Prev