by Sam Barone
Nevertheless, Ariamus didn’t have time to daydream about such things now. He needed to hear the latest news from Hathor, and by now Takany would be waiting for him to come to his tent. Ariamus would have to swallow his pride once again and defer to these cursed foreigners. But not for long, he vowed. Not for long.
Hathor had just finished washing the dust from his body when Ariamus strode into Takany’s tent. Hathor took another drink of water, though the warm liquid tasted more like moldy leather and horse sweat after its journey under the hot sun to this place. Out of the corner of his eye, he noted Takany looked even grimmer than usual. The man didn’t like it when Hathor spoke in Korthac’s name. Ignoring Takany’s frown, Hathor joined the two Egyptians already sitting cross-legged on the sand, and waved his hand for Ariamus to join them.
“Greetings, Hathor,” Ariamus said, his voice filling the tent. “How’s the soft life in Akkad? Did you bring more gold? Are you . . .”
“We’ve been waiting for you,” Takany said. “Do not keep me waiting again.”
“Last time I came here, you kept me standing outside,” Ariamus countered, as he sat. “I didn’t feel like cooking in the sun while you three whispered secrets to each other.”
“You presume much, Ariamus. You’d better learn to watch your tongue.”
“Please, let’s not argue amongst ourselves,” Hathor interrupted, though he extended a small bow to Takany as he did so. Hathor did remember that last meeting. Takany had insisted on hearing everything first, and then Hathor had to repeat the same message a second time, for Ariamus’s edification.
Hathor got right to his master’s business. “Korthac wishes to know how ready you are, Ariamus, and how many men and horses you have. The situation in Akkad grows even more favorable. Eskkar remains in the north, and the city is at ease. There are barely enough men in Akkad to maintain order.”
They all smiled at his news, Hathor noted. “Now, Ariamus, how many men will you have ready to fight in two weeks?”
“Two weeks!” Ariamus sounded dismayed at the early date. “Why so soon?”
“Ariamus has almost ninety men,” Takany said, speaking as if the man didn’t exist, “though most of them fight like old women.”
Korthac, in his wisdom, had warned Hathor about the growing conflict between Ariamus and Takany. The sooner they attacked Akkad, Hathor realized, the better. These two would be at each other’s throats soon enough. Either that or Ariamus just might take it into his head to collect his men and ride off, leaving Takany to his own devices. And to Korthac’s wrath.
“We must all work together,” Hathor said soothingly, trying to keep the peace. “A great prize awaits us. Akkad will provide wealth and a life of ease for all of us, and the sooner we take it the better. But time grows short, and Korthac says we need to move quickly.” He turned to Ariamus.
“How many men?”
“In three or four more weeks, I can get another thirty or forty men. We’re still a little short of horses.”
“You only have two weeks, Ariamus,” Hathor countered, shaking his head firmly. “Then we need to start moving toward Akkad. We’ll have to travel by night, avoiding the roads. Korthac has picked a place to ford the river, and arranged for boats to be waiting for us.”
All eyes turned to Ariamus.
“In two weeks . . . probably another twenty, twenty-five men. I think I can get mounts for that many, or at least most of them.”
“You’ll need food as well,” Hathor said, “there won’t be any time to scour the land for something to eat, and you must travel in secrecy. If the city gets word that a large band of men is raiding nearby, or approaching, the guards will be doubled and the defenders alerted. But if we move quickly and outrun word of our approach . . .”
The mood in the tent improved considerably at the thought of action.
Hathor knew the prospect of a good fight would take everyone’s mind off their squabbles. He turned to Takany.
“With our Egyptians and that number of Ariamus’s men, Korthac says we will have enough,” Hathor said, using his master’s name whenever possible. He knew Takany feared nothing on the earth except their leader.
“And weapons? You have arms for every man?”
“Yes, every man has at least a sword,” Ariamus said. “We’ve only a few bows, though.”
“They won’t be needed. And there will be plenty of bows once we’re inside Akkad.” Hathor didn’t mention that, if their men needed bows, then they were finished. He’d seen the Akkadians taking their archery training.
“And Korthac thinks we can win?” Ariamus asked the question, the only one there who would even dare cast doubt upon their master.
“Oh, yes, Ariamus,” Hathor said confidently. “I know we can win. We only need to get inside.” He looked around the circle. Even Takany had stopped frowning, no doubt willing to do anything to get out of this miserable camp.
“Then everything is settled. Tomorrow I’ll return to Akkad,” Hathor said smoothly. “Korthac will be pleased to learn that Ariamus has everything he needs, and that all of you will be ready to move in two weeks. Two weeks,” he repeated. “Not one day longer. Korthac said there must be no delays, no excuses, no failures, or he will hold all of you accountable. The minute he sends word, you must be ready to move.”
No one said anything. Whatever Korthac wished would be done.
“Nebibi, you are to come back to Akkad with me. Then you will return to help guide the men on the final leg of the march.”
“I’ll give thanks to Isis and Osiris,” Nebibi said, “for getting me out of this place.”
Hathor turned back to Ariamus. “I’ll need four of your best men to return with me to Akkad. Men who won’t attract attention, and who can follow orders perfectly and keep their mouths shut. Men who know how to kill and are good at it. Do you have any like that?”
Ariamus lifted his brow. “Yes, but I need all my subcommanders to help. . . .”
“If you need help with the training, Takany can provide it.” Hathor caught the momentary frown on Ariamus’s face. “I’ll meet with those you select now, to see if they’re capable. Your best men, Ariamus, nothing less will do. If they’re good enough, they’ll need good strong horses. Have them ready to ride with me at dawn.”
For once, Ariamus stood speechless, his open mouth showing his dismay at losing four good men.
Hathor leaned back and smiled at everyone. His mission had gone remarkably well, and for the next few weeks, the two forces would be too busy training to cause each other trouble. Korthac had shown his wisdom once again by pushing up the date for the attack. Best of all, Hathor would be out of this unhappy place in the morning, and he wouldn’t be coming back. He let himself relax.
“Now that Korthac’s business is settled, what can I tell you of Akkad?”
Chapter 13
Trella greeted Nicar and Corio when the two nobles entered the upper room. Seating Nicar in the place of honor at the head of the table, she took the chair across from Corio. In the days before the Alur Meriki invasion, Nicar had led the five Noble Families that ruled Orak. Faced with the city’s destruction, and finding no one else willing to risk his neck, Nicar selected Eskkar as the new captain of the guard. In addition, he’d given Eskkar a recently acquired slave girl named Trella to be his helpmate and keep him out of the alehouse at night.
Those two decisions, made less than a year ago, created a future none of them could have foreseen, a future brought about by the common people, long without a voice in their daily affairs. Now they acclaimed Eskkar as their leader, and expected him to protect them not only from barbarian invasions, but also from the power and whims of the noble families.
Today Nicar remained the foremost of the Noble Families, but everyone understood who had the real power in Akkad. While Nicar might regret the loss of his authority, Eskkar and Trella had saved not only his city, but his life and that of his family, when the mob had shouted for their death.
Though
their roles had reversed, Trella still felt beholden to him. A good man, she grieved that Nicar had aged much in the last six months.
Nearing his sixtieth season, his only remaining son had taken charge of the family’s trading ventures in the last few weeks, lifting that burden from his father. Trella planned to use that situation to her advantage.
“I hope today’s meeting will be brief, Lady Trella,” Corio said, ever in a hurry to be about his business. “It’s already past noon, and the Feast of Ishtar has begun.” He waved his hand toward the window where the sounds of celebration already echoed throughout the courtyard.
“So Ishtar’s priest has reminded me every day for the last few weeks, Corio,” Trella answered. “You and your family are attending the feast tonight?”
She’d arranged a major banquet, the first she’d ever given, to honor the goddess and reward those friends who had stood at Eskkar’s side during the siege. “There will be an abundance of food and wine. Annok-sur has hired the finest cooks and entertainers in the city.”
“Corio’s family accompanied us here, Trella,” Nicar said. “Now, can you tell us why you asked us here early? I assume you have something special to discuss with us?”
“Yes,” Trella said, pushing her hair back from her eyes. “Before Eskkar left, he spoke about proposing a change to our customs, and I wanted to ask your advice before bringing it up at the next council meeting.” Trella preferred to speak the truth whenever possible, though she’d been the one who broached the subject of how to rule Akkad with her husband.
She’d started by asking Eskkar about the customs that governed his former clan.
He told her how each clan’s leader settled disputes as he chose, with no recourse. Conflicts between clan leaders, if not settled by blood, were resolved by the Alur Meriki ruler, often with the help of the full council. Eskkar compared the customs of his barbarian clan with those of the nobles of Akkad. He’d seen enough of the local customs, enforcing them for the nobles before the invasion, and knew how unjustly they could be administered. To her surprise, Eskkar had several suggestions for changing Akkad’s customs and enforcing them less capriciously.
When Trella mentioned changing them into something more permanent, he not only agreed, but suggested they establish similar customs in the north. They spent several hours talking about the way Akkad, Bisitun, and the other northern villages should be ruled. Eskkar had learned the mysteries of the farm as well as those of gold and bronze from Trella, Nicar, and the other nobles, and understood that the more lightly they administered those under their rule, the more wealth would flow to Akkad.
When she’d told Eskkar what she wanted to do, he smiled and wished her luck. She spent the next few weeks preparing for this moment, waiting for exactly the right time to bring the subject before Nicar and Corio, the most influential members of the council of nobles. That time had now arrived. Today’s celebration would provide the most opportune moment to launch such a new concept.
“Well, what changes to our sacred customs are you proposing, Trella?”
Corio’s voice held a hint of humor. “Something new and exciting, I hope.”
“I want to alter the way all of our customs are administered.” She saw Corio glance at Nicar in surprise. “Not so much change them, but establish them as a code of conduct, laws for all the people of Akkad. I want to set them down in writing, so that everyone can know them, and follow them without fear or worry.”
Customs set penalties for crimes, determined the prices paid to the farmers for their produce, and even set the dates for feasts and celebrations. As Akkad had grown more prosperous, customs often changed, and not always for the better. But the nobles had always reserved final say to themselves, and often exempted their own families from the justice they imposed on others.
“Some of the council will object to that,” Nicar commented, straightening in his chair, his voice reflecting the seriousness of her suggestion. “They’ve followed their ways for years, and don’t see any reason to change.”
“Yes, they follow custom when it suits them,” Corio said. “I remember how it was. A price might be agreed upon, the work completed, then the payment reduced or even withheld. And no one to appeal to, either.”
An artisan by trade, Corio had joined the ranks of the nobles when he agreed to build the wall that now surrounded Akkad. For him, the customs had not always operated fairly, something Trella had counted upon.
“It seems to me that prices vary, as well,” Trella said, changing the subject before the two men began arguing about the past. “A bushel of grain set at one price when the nobles deal with each other, and a different price for everyone else.” She had worked with Nicar’s finances, and learned the details of his commerce. “That has led to discontent among the people, as well as disputes in the marketplace.”
The child within her stirred about, and Trella shifted in her chair. She watched Nicar’s eyes for any clues as to his thoughts. This would seem to him like one more way to lessen the authority of the nobles.
“Nobles,” she said, “since Eskkar drove off the Alur Meriki, nearly all of his time has been spent settling disputes over prices, petty crimes, even ownership of homes. You both know him. You know he should be thinking about Akkad’s defense, about building the new wall, not such petty squabbles.”
Neither man said anything. They knew Eskkar had no patience for such matters. “By making Eskkar the final arbiter in such affairs, we waste everyone’s time. If all the customs were written down, turned into laws that applied to all who live within Akkad’s control, think how many hours laboring over such matters could be saved. And if these new laws were administered fairly, I believe trade and farming would increase, with still more benefits to the city’s merchants and traders.”
“And leave Eskkar in a better mood.” Corio laughed.
Even Nicar found a smile at that. “Certainly that would be something to be desired. What exactly are you proposing, Trella?”
“First I want to set the prices for all the common items that are bought, sold, or traded in the marketplace. If farmers know in advance what price they will receive for their produce, they’ll be easier to deal with, and can concentrate on growing their crops, and not worry about what they’ll be paid for them.”
“Including the nobles?” Nicar asked.
“What merchants sell their goods for on the river or in the countryside is their business. But in Akkad they’ll pay one price, a fair price, with no cheating or sharp dealing.”
“And if there is cheating?”
“Then, Nicar, the nobles will face the same penalties as anyone else. As the customs say, if a man tries to cheat on an exchange, he’s to pay double. That would be the law of Akkad and apply even to the nobles.”
“And all this would be written down? With everyone agreeing to it?”
Corio looked dubious as he leaned on the table. “You’ll need a half-dozen clerks just to keep track of everything.”
Trella shook her head. “I think we’ll probably need about twenty. To keep records of the laws, the penalties, the prices, contracts, the ownership of the land and houses . . . They’ll have to invent new symbols to record events, and probably new ways of calculating sums.”
“You’re creating a whole new category of apprenticeship,” Nicar said, trying to judge the extent of what Trella had proposed. “This will change everything.”
So it would, Trella knew, and probably to a greater extent than Nicar realized. “It will change our future for the better. Akkad will be a better place to live and work.”
“To train so many clerks . . . store so many records, you’ll need a new building to house them, their teachers, servants, and families,” Corio mused. “Clay records require large rooms with many shelves to store them.” He fell silent, no doubt already thinking about how he would design and build such a structure.
“Yes, I imagine there is much more about this than I’ve considered.” As ever, she preferred to let ot
hers figure out what might be needed, though she and Annok-sur had spent the last few weeks going over the likely impacts on their society. Between them, they’d considered all the ramifications. At least she hoped they’d thought of everything.
“How would you pay for such an undertaking?” Nicar said. “It will be many months before Akkad returns to full prosperity, and even then, this will require much gold.”
“Well, Eskkar will bring in additional taxes from the countryside,” Trella said. “And those wishing to become clerks will pay for their apprenticeships in advance. That should bring enough to feed and house them.” She turned to Corio. “We would need a place for them to live and work. I was hoping you would build one for us, Corio, and perhaps charge us less than your usual price?”
It took Corio only a moment to understand her meaning. If he didn’t discount the price, she would find another architect. Not that it mattered.
He’d still make a good profit, only a bit less than usual. “Of course, Lady Trella. I would be honored to construct a building for you, say at a discount of one-tenth?”
“That is more than generous, Master Builder. And perhaps you can help determine the prices and penalties for Akkad’s other builders? Along with, of course, the other nobles.” Trella accepted that he would make sure the law favored the artisans, but that would be a small price to pay.
Besides, the poor didn’t pay others to build for them. They built their own huts out of mud. The wealthy had more, and so they would pay more.
She turned to Nicar. “I hope you will help me draft the laws. A common set of laws that will apply to all.”
“How will these laws be administered?” Nicar stroked his beard, a dubious frown on his face.
“I hoped you would tell me, Nicar. I would like the council to appoint someone to oversee the drafting of these new rules, and then preside over their administration. That someone would be responsible only to Eskkar, and would make sure the laws were applied fairly to everyone—noble, merchant, shopkeeper, and farmer alike.”