by Sam Barone
“When you’ve been a slave, Lani,” Grond answered, “you know what is needed. I’ll just hold her for a while.” He looked at Eskkar. “If I may, Captain?”
Eskkar nodded, surprised at the serious tone of Grond’s voice. The bodyguard left the table and went to the woman’s room. Eskkar looked at Lani for an explanation.
“That’s what he did last night, lord. He held her, and told her she was safe. She cried in his arms for a long time, until she fell asleep. Your bodyguard didn’t take her. Was he a slave in Akkad?”
“No, not in Akkad. He told me that he’d been a slave in the lands to the west, but he never said much about it, only that he escaped. He has the marks of the lash on his back, and even in Akkad, he might have been put back into slavery, except that we needed soldiers to fight the Alur Meriki.”
“But you did not put him back into bondage when the danger passed? Did not those in the village declare him a runaway slave?”
“I was born a barbarian, Lani. The ways of the village are not always my ways. Besides, he saved my life, more than once. Do you think I could repay him for that by making him a slave again?” He pushed his wine cup toward her, and she took a small sip before handing it back.
“And now you rule the greatest village in the land, so you’re not a barbarian any more, else the villagers would not follow you.”
Eskkar smiled at that. “They’re still having trouble accepting me as their ruler. And I do not rule alone, Lani.”
“It seems even stranger that the nobles of Akkad would accept a woman to rule over them.”
So Lani had heard about Trella’s true role in Akkad. Well, that made things easier. “She was a slave herself, given to me to help manage my household.” He smiled at the thought. “Trella is what my people call a ‘gifted one.’ She sees much, knows the mysteries of farm and village, and understands the ways of men. Without her, I might not even be alive, let alone ruler of Akkad.”
“I heard that she is young, only fifteen seasons. She must be gifted indeed. You must care for her a great deal.”
Eskkar nodded. “More than you can know, Lani. She’s very special to me. And she carries our child now, the child that will rule in Akkad after us.”
“Then I bless her name. And I will not allow myself to be jealous of your love for her.”
“Don’t be, Lani. It’s because of her that I am here, and that you’re under Akkad’s protection.” He reached across the table and touched her hand. “And yet you are much like her, I think. Your wits are quick, and you understand the ways of men. How old are you, Lani?”
“In the spring, I will have twenty-four seasons, lord. But much of what I have learned is what I would soonest forget.”
Ninazu’s cries of agony rang throughout the square. They’d managed to ignore the noise outside for a few moments. Suddenly the screams ended, cut short, replaced by a loud groan of disappointment and disapproval from the crowd.
“Ninazu must be unconscious, or dead,” Eskkar said. “I’ll go see.”
He went to the doorway, and called to one of the soldiers. In a few moments Eskkar returned to the table and sat down again. “Ninazu is dead, Lani. The torturers were too careless. The villagers think he scarcely suffered.”
Lani bowed her head. “I’m glad he’s dead. My husband’s life has been avenged. Now I can bury him, at least in my thoughts.”
Everyone had to deal with grief and loss in their own way, and Eskkar had already done all he could to help her. “You will not be needed for the rest of the day, Lani. Stay inside, until everything is finished.” He turned away, and went back out into the square.
The crowd regained its voice. With Ninazu dead, the villagers started arguing again. Many wanted all prisoners to be tortured and killed, and Eskkar watched as Sisuthros pounded his sword hilt on the table to shut them up. Before Sisuthros finished reckoning with the rest of Ninazu’s men, the sun passed midday.
The Akkadians had captured thirty-one men, and each one needed to be dealt with individually. Eskkar knew those who had committed the worst misdeeds would make poor slaves. Too ignorant or intractable, they would have to be watched and guarded for the rest of their days, always seeking to escape and more trouble than they were worth. The villagers denounced nine of these, and the council sentenced them to death. Four had committed particularly atrocious acts, and were put to the torture, giving each of them added pain before they died. A quick sword thrust to the heart took care of the others.
Sisuthros condemned those remaining, the ones docile enough to accept their punishment, to slavery, to be branded with the mark of Akkad and to labor for the rest of their lives. He ordered fifteen to be sent to Akkad as soon as possible. Akkad needed laborers more urgently than Bisitun, to work on the expansion of the walls. Corio and his builders would put the extra workers to good use.
Despite Akkad’s need, Eskkar shook his head at the thought of sending the slaves there. Some of his precious soldiers would be needed to guard and transport them, more food would have to be found and sent with them, along with horses, ropes, and everything else needed for at least a week’s march back to Akkad.
Sisuthros spent the remaining daylight dividing up the goods and animals recovered from Ninazu. Despite recovering much of what Ninazu’s men had taken, many valuables couldn’t be located. Of course several villagers claimed the same items, causing arguments to erupt. Even with fair dispositions, the rightful owners argued about the part taken by Akkad.
Everyone claimed that two-tenths for Akkad was far too great a portion, until Sisuthros threatened to take everything from the next man who protested. He reminded them that they would have nothing if the Akkadians had not rescued both them and their goods, and that Akkadian soldiers had died freeing them.
The gold and silver coins taken from Ninazu provided another source of contention, the difficulty being to establish how much had been taken from any one person. Acting together, the council made those decisions, often after appealing to the villagers, who made dispositions based on what they thought a man might have possessed.
At last the sun began to sink below the western horizon, and Sisuthros announced the end of the day’s proceedings. Another assembly would convene the next day, starting at midmorning. The council of elders would meet earlier, an hour after sunup, to go over what would be the next order of business—restoring the productivity of the farms, the shopkeepers, and the merchant traders.
The crowd began to disburse, heading to their homes for supper. Even after most departed, guards were posted at Eskkar’s door to keep a few overeager supplicants away from the leaders of Akkad.
“Marduk take all of them,” Sisuthros said, his voice hoarse. He lifted his feet onto the table as he leaned back against the wall. “Another day like today, and I’ll run off and become a bandit myself.”
Eskkar felt every bit as tired. The constant arguing grated on his nerves, wearing him down. Yet he had to remain alert, to study those as they spoke, in order to determine who might be lying from those who had little skills with speech. He’d stayed out of it as much as possible, but he had intervened twice when Sisuthros looked toward him for help. Eskkar attempted to follow Trella’s advice. “Be aloof. Do not deal in common matters. Leave those to your commanders. That way the people will know you concern yourself with far more important things than some farmer’s cow or the innkeeper’s bill.”
“Tomorrow will be easier, Sisuthros. At least you’ve got the gold out of the way. They’ll quiet down as soon as they get back to work. You’ll be besieged with requests for men, to help rebuild the farms, the ditches, the shops, the boats, everything damaged or destroyed by Ninazu.”
“Captain, I don’t know how you and Trella stand it. Better a hard fight against the barbarians any day.” He shook his head. “I don’t think we have enough scribes and traders, let alone soldiers.”
Lani approached the table, carrying a tray of wine, cheese, and bread, the first part of the evening meal. Eskkar mi
xed himself a cup of watered wine. Sisuthros was right. They would need more help, and they wouldn’t be able to trust anyone from Bisitun for months.
“I’ll send word back to Akkad, Sisuthros. Maybe Nicar or Corio has someone else they can spare to help you. Perhaps Trella knows of someone.”
He didn’t mention Sisuthros’s wife. Far too shy and retiring, she wouldn’t be able to deal forcefully with determined villagers.
Eskkar watched Lani as she moved gracefully about the cooking area, giving directions to the two women preparing the food. He knew she could be of use to Sisuthros, but the people of Bisitun would never accept her in that role. To them, no matter what Eskkar had said today, she would always be Ninazu’s woman. Besides, he had promised her protection in Akkad.
Hamati, Drakis, the scribes, and a few of the other senior men sat down at the table, everyone hungry for their dinner. Lani and Tippu returned, carrying more trays laden with food, helped by the other women, who had done a good part of the cooking in their own homes.
No fancy fare yet. Food would remain in short supply in Bisitun until the market reestablished itself. Nevertheless, in the next few days farmers would be bringing in whatever they could spare, to sell to the soldiers and villagers. So for tonight’s dinner, the men ate a stew made from two chickens, chopped into tiny chunks, and mixed with fresh vegetables. Four loaves of bread fresh from the ovens helped soak up the stew, and watered wine completed the meal. Not much food for fighting men, but most of Bisitun would not eat as well tonight. At least no villager would starve in the next week or ten days, though plenty would go to bed hungry.
The meal finished, Eskkar and Sisuthros took another walk about the village. Both men felt the need to stretch their legs after sitting or standing all day with solemn looks on their faces. Accompanied by Grond and three other guards, they spent hours poking about until darkness made it too difficult to see anything.
Eskkar took every opportunity to talk with the villagers. Such casual speech didn’t come easy to him, but Trella had gotten him used to making small talk with the common folk, asking about their homes, their families, their needs, and their hopes. He’d learned that people provided the real basis for his rule, and he worked hard at building a bond between himself and those he ruled.
The three men were yawning when they returned to the square, for once empty of villagers.
After such a long and exciting day, everyone would be in bed, eager for sleep. Eskkar, Sisuthros, and Grond washed at the well, stripping down and pouring water over their bodies. It didn’t feel as refreshing as a good swim in the river, but Eskkar promised himself that luxury tomorrow, come what may.
Carrying their clothes, the three of them walked back inside the house. The big room, empty of servants, held only two soldiers standing guard just inside the door. Eskkar spoke to both of them, to make sure they stayed alert. Though Sisuthros had distributed much of the loot, the house still held the gold destined for Akkad.
Eskkar had just entered his room when Lani appeared, carrying a pitcher of wine, another of water, and a single cup. She’d no doubt heard the men cleaning themselves at the well, so she brought no washing bowls.
Splashing a bit of wine into a cup, she added water before handing it to him. Already she had learned that he drank his wine well watered.
“Thank you, Lani,” he said, breaking the silence. She probably thought he expected her to attend him. She wore the same soft robe she wore last night when she came to him, and already he wished she would unfasten it.
He took a sip from the cup.
“Lani, you don’t have to be here. Your sorrow for your husband is . . .”
She touched her finger to his lips. “My husband has been dead for over four months. Today . . . watching Ninazu die, I put an end to my grief. Now I have to care for my sister.”
“Then she’ll need you tonight, Lani. Stay with her. She doesn’t have your strength.”
“Tonight she has Grond to comfort her.” She saw the look on his face.
“No, lord, she went to him willingly. It’s time she ceased being afraid of men. And I think Grond is the right man for that task. He ignores her dishonor, and treats her with respect. His presence reassures her more than my words ever can. She knows no one will hurt her now.”
True enough, Eskkar thought. Only a foolhardy man would offer any insult to a woman under Grond’s protection.
Lani turned away and went to the door. She closed it, then placed the wooden bar across the frame. Turning back to face him, she lifted her head high. “I think it’s time that I, too, went willingly to a man’s bed. I would stay the night with you again, lord, if I do not displease you.”
He looked at her, and his resolve vanished. She had some essence, something that made him want her, and he knew it was more than just her skill in pleasuring him. Eskkar sat down on the bed, more than a little unsure of himself.
“You know I want you, Lani. But I won’t take you with a lie on my lips. My life is back in Akkad, with Trella. And I’ll be going back soon enough.”
“Then I only ask that you keep your word, lord, to take me and my sister back to Akkad with you. Until then, you will need someone to manage your household, care for you while you are here, and hold you in the darkness of the night.”
“You do not need to call me ‘lord,’ Lani. My name is Eskkar. I am just a simple soldier. One trying to rule a city and a land full of problems.”
She stepped toward him, stopping just out of reach, and began to unfasten her dress. “No, Eskkar. I heard you in the square today, and saw what you did. You gave the villagers honesty and justice, something they haven’t seen in many months. Despite their complaining, they already accept you as their ruler, and trust you to protect them. You are a great lord, to have such power over men.”
The robe untied, she slipped it over her shoulders, letting it hang from her arms, the same as she’d done last night. She closed her eyes to his gaze, but her body trembled as if she could already feel his hands upon her.
He shook his head. No one had ever called him “great” before. If he ever ruled this land, it would be Trella who deserved that honor. He couldn’t explain all that to Lani, not now. He stood and reached for her, taking her in his arms and catching her hair in his hand. He kissed her upraised lips, and heard the robe slip to the floor. She tasted sweet to him, and he kissed her even harder, letting his other hand find and fondle her breast until she caught her breath.
“What can I do to please my lord tonight?” She kept her voice low, but he could hear the passion in it.
He swung her around, and pushed her gently down on the bed. For a moment he felt tempted to leave the candle burning, but the sight of her body already burned in his memory. He leaned over and blew out the flickering light. Despite his passion, he took the time to unsheathe the sword and lean it against the wall before sliding into the bed.
They held each other, neither one saying anything, just kissing and touching for a long time, until his excitement grew. When Lani moved to pleasure him as she had done the night before, he held her down, kissing her neck.
“Oh, no, Lani. Not tonight. Tonight I will give you pleasure.” He lay on his side and began caressing her, sucking and biting on her nipples while his fingers probed and teased her body. At first she seemed uncomfortable with the attention, but gradually she relaxed, letting him arouse her.
His lips moved up and down the length of her body, tasting her, kissing her, and she began to moan from the pleasure he gave her. He resisted her first pleadings, ignored the way she pushed her body against him, held back until her hand tightened so much around him that he thought he would burst.
Finally he moved atop her and slid deep into her body. A long sigh of pleasure escaped her lips, and she locked her legs around him.
He began to move against her, and she matched his movements, pushing herself against him. Before long she cried out, her arms and legs fastening themselves around him, her sounds of passion c
oming faster and faster until she gave a little scream into his neck as her body overwhelmed her.
Trembling, she could do nothing but hold him fast; he increased his thrusts against her and soon he, too, cried out as he gave her his seed, his face and mouth buried in her hair.
For a long time he lay on top of her, his passion spent but enjoying the touch of her body. When he moved beside her, she moaned a little. He took her in his arms and held her. Her whole body shook, and he tasted the salt of tears on his lips when he gently kissed her cheek.
“Did I hurt you, Lani?”
“No, lord.” Her arms pulled tight around his neck, and she buried her face against his. “These are tears of happiness.”
Chapter 10
In Akkad, the days passed swiftly for Tammuz. Overnight, the addition of En-hedu to his household made the gloomy place seem brighter, and its dull routine soon disappeared, as she set about improving the alehouse. Neither Kuri nor Tammuz had ever bothered trying to keep the place clean, but she soon made up for their past neglect. She traded a few cups of ale to a carpenter who lived nearby. He labored there whenever he had no work of his own, or if he’d worked up a thirst. An hour at a time, over the course of a week, he fixed the rickety benches and tables, and built a new shelf to hold the few cups and plates the alehouse possessed.
At Tammuz’s suggestion, the carpenter also rebuilt the tavern’s two doors, making the outer door more solid, and repairing the inner one that led to Tammuz’s private room. When the craftsman finished, the two doors hung properly, swung freely, and both could be fastened securely. For working on the doors, the carpenter asked for a payment of five copper coins in addition to his usual libations; he had to shape some cast-off bronze strips for the hinges, make a dozen nails, and rebuild the outer door’s lintel. For the satisfaction of sleeping safer at night, Tammuz agreed to the sum. In his neighborhood, inhabitants paid any price for the chance to sleep in safety at night.
A few days later, when the carpenter completed his tasks and emptied his last cup of free ale, the alehouse looked much better. For a finishing touch, En-hedu, using some red dye bought at the marketplace, sketched a wine cup and the barley symbol on the outer wall, so that passersby could tell at a glance what the establishment sold.