by Sam Barone
The marketplace, an irregular rectangle formed by dwellings of every shape and height, was accessed by half a dozen crooked lanes. That left plenty of room for the inhabitants, and soon more than a hundred people filled the square. To Eskkar’s eyes, they looked little better than the inhabitants of Dilgarth. Though surrounded by fruitful farmlands, food remained scarce in Bisitun, with Ninazu’s men taking most of what the local farmers delivered. Many villagers showed bruises on their thin bodies, marks from the bandit’s brutal treatment. Most wore simple tunics that needed washing. Only a few possessed sandals, though Eskkar recalled that almost all of Ninazu’s men had worn them.
The demands for vengeance against Ninazu and his followers mounted, with the village’s women shouting the loudest. Dozens, raped by the bandits, their husbands murdered, or both, cried out for Ninazu’s blood. Those outcries only stopped when Eskkar assured everyone that punishment would be meted out soon. Then the villagers pleaded for food. Ninazu hadn’t bothered to secure enough provisions for the siege, and most of what he had stored went to his men, with little left over for Bisitun. Fortunately, the handful of dead horses would provide a decent meal to most. Eskkar dispatched more riders to the countryside, to let the farmers know they could once again bring in their crops with safety, while receiving a fair price.
By noon Eskkar’s men patrolled the streets and lanes, the gates stood closed and guarded, and villagers labored to repair the burned-out section of the palisade. Fifty-seven of Ninazu’s followers had died, and forty-one taken prisoner. Some of these, the least violent and most tractable, would become slaves. With the mark of Akkad branded on their foreheads, they would live out the rest of their lives working in the fields and canals. The rest would be killed.
No one, including Eskkar, felt the slightest sympathy for any of them.
They’d chosen to live by the sword at the expense of their neighbors. The captured bandits deserved a sentence of slavery, if for nothing else than to make amends for their crimes.
Another thirty or more bandits had slipped away in the confusion.
Eskkar’s men had reported hearing splashes in the river, so no doubt many had risked their hand at swimming. Those that made it across the river would offer no threat to Bisitun for quite some time. One or two might still be hiding within the village, but Eskkar’s men would soon discover any that remained.
Surprisingly, Eskkar had lost only six men in the fighting. Two of those had climbed the palisade with Eskkar. Sisuthros had lost the others repulsing Ninazu’s sortie or storming the gate. Eight more had taken wounds, but with luck would survive. To the soldiers of Akkad, it seemed an incredible accomplishment. Outnumbered, and with minimal losses, they had defeated an entrenched and determined enemy in the space of a few hours. Eskkar’s reputation among the soldiers as a canny leader who cared about his men grew even greater.
The inhabitants of Bisitun appeared as impressed. Ninazu had lied to them, told them that the Akkadians would kill everyone in the village, just as he’d told them that the village couldn’t be taken.
Eskkar and Sisuthros had plenty of work to do. The scribes arrived from the encampment, and set about making lists of those villagers killed or robbed by Ninazu and his men. Eskkar sent a rider to Akkad to inform Trella and Gatus that Bisitun had been freed. He spoke with more than a dozen men imprisoned by Ninazu, and released all of them. Using one of the scribes, Eskkar made an account of the loot found at Ninazu’s house.
The bandit leader had taken over the largest structure in Bisitun for his residence, and Eskkar saw no reason to let it go to waste, claiming it as his headquarters.
The villagers, organized in small parties, began to bury the dead and repair the damage caused by the fighting. Nevertheless, it wasn’t until midday that Eskkar felt confident enough to order everyone to the market square to hear his words. If so many villagers hadn’t been killed or driven out, the square could never have accommodated them. Even then, the rooftops seemed as crowded as the streets.
Eskkar hated giving speeches, but the people of Bisitun needed to hear and see him. But they, like the villagers in Dilgarth, needed to know who he was, why he’d come, and what their role would be in the future.
When he looked over the crowd, he saw shock and fear still gripped most of them. The crowd quieted when he climbed on a cart and raised his hand, as the soldiers ringing the square called out for everyone to keep quiet. He waited impassively until the chattering turned into murmurs, then into silence.
In a loud voice, Eskkar announced that Bisitun had come under the rule and protection of Akkad, and that from this day, Sisuthros would command here in Akkad’s name. A new village council, to include craftsmen and farmers as well as merchants, would be established to handle local matters, including justice for the bandits and their victims. The same customs governing Akkad would be established here, and would apply equally to all, just as they did in Akkad.
“What are these new customs?” a voice in the crowd shouted out.
“The council,” Eskkar said, raising his hand for silence, “will set the prices of grain and other goods. The council will also set the penalties for crimes, from theft to murder. The council will decide what rules the people in Bisitun need, and those rules will apply to everyone in the village and the surrounding farms, including the members of the council. Persons who feel themselves treated unjustly can appeal first to the council, and then to Sisuthros. He will decide anything of import, or, if he thinks necessary, Sisuthros can refer the matter to me and the council back in Akkad for a final decision. You will be governed justly and fairly.”
The villagers looked at each other, no doubt wondering what that really meant, but a few cheered at Eskkar’s announcement.
“The new customs,” Eskkar added, “apply to my own soldiers. They’ve received strict instructions to take no liberties with the local people. Starting now, Sisuthros will provide soldiers for protection not only of the village, but enough to begin regular patrols of the surrounding farms. More soldiers and craftsmen will arrive from Akkad over the next few months, to strengthen the palisade and provide more security. Restoration of the farms to their rightful owners, and assistance with the canals and irrigation will be given the first priority. Taxes, in the form of goods, will be sent to Akkad on a regular basis, to pay for the protection and safety Akkad will supply.”
Eskkar didn’t speak long, just expanded on the same speech he’d given in Dilgarth only a few days ago. He turned the crowd over to Sisuthros, leaving him to take the brunt of the inhabitants’ questions. Hours passed.
Sisuthros explained the new ways of Akkad in detail, interrupted constantly to answer question after question. He had trouble keeping the crowd under control at first, but when everyone realized their voice would be heard, they quieted somewhat and learned to raise their hands when they wished to be heard.
Sisuthros consulted with the local people and tradesmen, as well as the few farmers who had taken shelter within Bisitun. He took nominations for the council, and promised to begin the distribution of stolen lands and goods tomorrow morning. When he finished, he dismissed the villagers and told them to return to their homes or farms. Then, ignoring the pleas and questions that still lingered, he gathered those who would become the council of elders and departed for one of the houses a little way off the square.
Eskkar breathed a sigh of relief as he watched them go, most of the crowd following after Sisuthros. He and Grond entered Ninazu’s former home. Someone had stocked the table with food and drink, and the two men emptied their water cups even before they sat. Until now, there’d been little time to eat or rest since the attack began the night before.
“By the gods, I’m glad that’s over!” Grond said, as he banged down his cup. “I thought the questions would never stop.”
Eskkar laughed. “They won’t. Not for a few weeks at least.” He refilled his cup from the pitcher. “If they’re anything like the people of Akkad, they’ll drive Sisuthros crazy
with their complaints and quarrels.”
“I still can’t believe how quickly Ninazu’s men collapsed,” Grond said, shaking his head and yawning. “It’s going to take a day or two before everything calms down.”
“Longer than that,” Eskkar said, lifting his feet onto the table. “Remember, we have to settle the countryside as well as the village. We need those crops in the ground as soon as possible.”
In the last few months Eskkar had learned all about the mysteries of the farm. Now he understood that real wealth flowed from the crops in the fields, that gold merely transferred that wealth from one person to another.
When the farms produced in plenty, gold would flow into Bisitun and Akkad. However, without the farms, there would be little gold, no trade, and no prosperity.
The talk died out as the two men picked at the food spread before them. There was wine and bread, as well as cheese, dates, and honey. Ninazu had stocked his house well, with luxuries long absent from the villagers’ tables. Eskkar mixed a splash of wine in with his water. The long night had tired him more than he would admit, and he didn’t trust himself with too much strong drink.
He looked up when two women entered the room, passed in by the Hawk Clan guard who stood at the door. One carried a large wooden platter holding half a dozen slices of roasted horsemeat. The other held a small plate stacked with sweetened cakes. The women bore a strong resemblance, and Eskkar guessed them to be sisters.
The older of the two put a slice of horsemeat on each of the men’s plates, then left the platter in the center of the table. She took the sweet cakes from her sister and placed it before them as well, her eyes carefully appraising Eskkar as she did so. Then she bowed, looked at Grond, and both women left the room.
Grond cleared his throat. “Captain, I forgot to tell you, when we searched this house, we found six women here. Ninazu’s women. Four have returned to their homes or families. But these two . . .” He shrugged.
“They say they have no place to go.”
Eskkar shook his head. He’d be dealing with Ninazu’s legacy for months, one thing after another. Even the bandit’s loot had become a problem. They’d found a small, windowless room in the house containing four sacks crammed with gold, jewelry, and other valuables, Ninazu’s personal share of the booty. Many of the coins bore the marks of villages to the north and west, so the bandit had obviously accumulated plenty of booty even before arriving in Bisitun.
Ninazu remained with his plunder, though no doubt it gave him less pleasure today, sitting on it with his leg broken. Still, a Hawk Clan soldier stood constant guard over Ninazu and his gold. The bandit chief seemed much too crafty and resourceful, and Eskkar didn’t want to take any chances with him escaping.
But until now, Eskkar hadn’t heard about any women, though it didn’t surprise him. Even a bandit needed someone to run his household, as well as needing women with whom to take his pleasures. Six women seemed quite a number for one man. Eskkar’s opinion of Ninazu increased.
“Well, they must have come from someplace.” Eskkar took his knife and sliced a bit of the warm meat and put it in his mouth. After last night’s slaughter at the corral, there would be plenty of horsemeat for the next few days. The steamy flesh tasted good, and he realized how hungry he was. Cutting up the thick steak, he alternated bites with bread, sweet and fresh, washing everything down with watered wine.
“Ninazu brought these two women with him when he rode into Bisitun,” Grond continued, as he worked at his own food. “Sisuthros asked me to take care of them. They offered to keep your house if they could stay here. I said that you would speak to them.”
Eskkar looked at his bodyguard in surprise, but the man’s attention remained focused on his plate. Grond had never offered to intercede for others with his leader, though more than a few in Akkad had sought him out, to try and take advantage of his friendship with Eskkar.
“I’ll talk to them later, then,” Eskkar said, as he finished the meat and selected some figs to finish the meal. He had never cared for the sweet cakes villagers devoured at every opportunity, thinking them somehow unfit for a warrior, a concept that dated back to his barbarian days. Trella had smiled when he told her about it, but she ate them only infrequently herself.
When he finished eating, he drank another cup of water, then stood up and stretched. The heavy meal sapped whatever strength remained and he felt exhausted. More than a day had passed since he’d slept, and even that had been cut short. He felt the heaviness in his legs, and cursed his own weakness.
“Grond, I’m going to get some sleep. Get some rest yourself. We’ll probably be up late tonight as well, with all these villagers pestering us. Tell the guard to wake me in three hours.”
Eskkar had explored the house earlier. It possessed five rooms. The common room ran the length of the house, and took up half the structure.
One end contained a fireplace and a work table for preparing meals; the other held the large table where the previous owner had taken his dinner.
Four chambers, varying in size, took up the rest of the dwelling, all of them accessed from the main room.
The master’s bedroom occupied a corner of the house, with a solid door a few steps from the table. Inside, Eskkar found a large, comfortable-looking bed. A thick wooden bar leaned against the wall, and he used it to secure the door, knowing he’d sleep sounder with the door fastened.
He heard Grond giving instructions to one of the soldiers to stand guard, more to keep anyone from bothering their leader than from any need for caution. Stopping only to unbelt his sword, he dropped gratefully on the bed, threw an arm over his eyes to block out the light, and fell asleep in moments.
The knocking on the door shook the wooden panels, and when Eskkar forced his eyes open, he realized the pounding had gone on for some time.
Grond’s voice called to him through the door, but it took a real effort to clear his head and force himself to sit up. A glance at the window told him several hours had gone by. He shouted at Grond to stop beating on the door, then went and opened it.
Grond had already gone, replaced outside the door by the two women who had served the meal earlier. One carried a tall pitcher of water in both hands, while the other held a large clay bowl. Both had drying cloths across their arms. They moved past him while he stood there, trying to comprehend their presence, and they placed their burdens on the small table near the bed. The older girl turned toward him and bowed.
“Lord Eskkar, I am called Lani. This is my sister, Tippu,” she added, nodding to the younger girl, who bowed even lower than her sister. “Grond asked us to attend to you when you woke up.” When he didn’t answer her, she went on. “Would you like some water, lord?”
Still not fully awake, Eskkar tried to clear his mind. The offer of water made him realize his thirst, so he nodded. The younger girl took an ornately carved cup from the table and poured water into it, then handed it to him. He drained the cup before handing it back to Tippu.
“Lord, would you permit us to help you with your . . . bath?” Lani inquired. “Your tunic is filthy and covered with blood, as are your hands. You should wash and put on clean clothing before you appear again before the villagers.”
For the first time, he noticed the stink of blood and sweat on his body.
“Is there a well nearby?” Eskkar asked, the dryness gone from his mouth.
He certainly didn’t plan on letting two strange women clean him. His thoughts flashed back to Trella, and the first time she had washed down his naked body, the first time any woman had ever done so. It had been intensely erotic, and now even the remembrance sent a shiver of pleasure through his manhood.
“Yes, lord, there is a well across the square, but right now it is crowded with villagers gossiping about the men from Akkad.”
Fully awake now, Eskkar noticed how tall Lani stood, and how attractive, with a full, graceful figure, topped by soft brown hair. She’d rimmed her brown eyes with a trace of ocher, which added an
intriguing reddish tint to them. Many of the wives of the well-off merchants in Akkad did the same, to enhance their beauty, though Trella never did.
Lani’s deep voice sounded pleasant to his ears, and she wore a dress of fine quality, no doubt plundered from somewhere by her former master. Now that he had time to study her, he guessed her age to be about twenty-five seasons.
She noticed his stare and lowered her eyes. “Your pardon, lord, but we do not know what you wish. Please, instruct us.”
Either her words or her tone aroused him further, so he walked to the bed and sat. He looked down at himself and saw that, indeed, his tunic remained spotted with blood and dirt, and that his brief moments at the well earlier in the morning had not removed all the blood from his hands.
Glancing at the now-soiled bedding, he decided this Lani spoke the truth.
He considered going down to the river, but that would be a long walk from Ninazu’s house, and no doubt he’d be pestered every step of the way by villagers. Eskkar would have to use the cloths and water bowl after all. He could do it himself, but . . .
“Is there a clean tunic I can wear, Lani?”
She pursed her lips for an instant. “You are much taller than Ninazu, but perhaps we can find something in the house.” Lani turned to her sister.
“See what we have here. If there is nothing that will fit, we will have to send out to the market.”
Tippu put down her drying cloths, glanced nervously at Eskkar, and left the room.
Eskkar stood up, and pulled his tunic up over his head, then tossed the dirty garment on the floor. “Your sister does not talk much.”
“She has been through a great deal, and is afraid, Lord Eskkar,” Lani said calmly, as she poured water from the pitcher into the bowl. “As am I. We are both frightened of what is to become of us.”
Eskkar watched her movements as she soaked one of the washcloths in the water, then wrung it out. Her hands were quick and sure. “You have nothing to be afraid of, Lani. No one will harm you now.”