by Sam Barone
Corio laughed in understanding. “You’ve been chosen, Nicar. You’ll have to deal with it.”
Nicar clearly hadn’t expected this. “What you ask . . . why, it will take months . . . even years. And my business . . . what would I do?”
“You said yourself that your son is prepared to take over your family’s business,” Trella said, noting the noble’s discomfort. “Perhaps he is readier than you know. Besides, who else in Akkad do the people respect as much as you, Nicar? And you’ll have help. The council will provide whatever you need. I’m sure there are plenty of younger sons, men with their wits about them, who would appreciate the opportunity to serve. As Corio says, this would be a whole new House, a House of Laws, with a staff of clerks and administrators needed to ensure its honest application. You’d be deciding disputes between all of Akkad’s inhabitants.”
“One of my sons is more clerk than artisan,” Corio offered. “He can’t plumb a line to save his life. Any house he builds is certain to fall down sooner or later. But he knows the symbols, and might prefer such an apprenticeship. It would be far better for the boy to be a scribe than a builder.”
“The people trust you, Nicar,” Trella went on. “And the chance to establish a new House, one of your own choosing, accepting only the best and most honest of our people. You would be honored by all.”
“Accept the honor, Nicar,” Corio added. “The other nobles will rely on you to treat them fairly.”
“What would this new position be called?” Nicar asked with a sigh, looking as if he might be tempted in spite of his usual caution.
“I’m not sure,” Trella answered. “Since you’d have to determine the truthfulness of what men say and do, it seemed to me that the title of ‘judge’ would be appropriate. Akkad’s chief judge would be accountable only to Eskkar. He and I believe it is one of the most important duties of a ruler to give just decisions in resolving disputes. You know how much Akkad needs such an office, and who better to fill it.”
“Chief judge of the City of Akkad,” Corio said. “Sounds impressive, doesn’t it?”
It did indeed, Trella agreed. In a few months, certainly less than a year, the title would change to “The lord’s judge,” or even “The king’s judge.”
The title of “king” meant ruler of all the land, one blessed by the gods and dispensing their favor. It had never been used in these lands, but the word “king” could wait a little longer, until the people grew ready to accept it.
“Say yes, Nicar,” she pleaded, touching his hand with her own. “Your name will be remembered forever in Akkad. And think of all the good you can do.”
He looked from one to the other, and lifted his hands in surrender.
“When do you wish me to begin?”
“Put your affairs in order. In a week or so, we can begin figuring out what will be needed.”
“I thought I would be getting some rest in my old age, Trella. Now you’ll have me working from dawn to dusk.”
Longer than that, Trella thought. “Noble Nicar, I believe this will be as good for you as for the city. We’ll have much to discuss, but we can start whenever you’re ready.”
“Since that’s settled, can we get on with the feast?” Corio’s tone made Nicar and Trella laugh. “I can hear my granddaughter squealing with de-light even from here.”
“Yes, I want to greet your wife and children,” Trella said. “Perhaps I can find some extra treats for them. My thanks to you both.”
When the two men left, Trella felt pleased that one of the day’s more important items had been concluded. Nicar’s honesty would reflect favorably on Eskkar’s personal code of justice. The nobles would grumble and complain about losing more of their privileges, but they would see the benefits to themselves soon enough. And they might even believe they could influence Nicar’s judgments, but she knew her former owner better than that.
No, she’d moved Akkad another step forward, this time using the nobles’ self-interest to solidify and strengthen Eskkar’s rule. Eventually the people would come to trust Lord Eskkar’s arbiter of the laws, and, until then, they could appeal to Eskkar if they believed themselves treated unjustly. The more they trusted Eskkar and herself, the more they relied on their leaders, the safer her unborn child would be. In time, the people would accept her son as their ruler without hesitation.
Assuming, of course, that she carried a male child. If she delivered a baby girl, then she would have to get pregnant again, as soon as possible.
Eskkar needed an heir to carry on his line, just as Akkad needed that same heir for stability, to know that in the coming years, Eskkar’s son, his inheritor, would be there to protect and defend them and their families.
The child’s safety had become even more important than her own.
Trella remembered all too well how she had changed from a noble’s daughter to a slave-trader’s property in a single night. Such a fate must never happen to Eskkar’s sons and daughters. To protect her firstborn, she would change the customs of Akkad to ensure the people felt safe and secure under Eskkar’s rule. Nothing would stand in her way, not the nobles, not the wealthy merchants, not even the soldiers. All of them must bow to Eskkar’s rule, and to her design for building a mighty city.
Patting her stomach to soothe the babe, she followed Nicar and Corio to the door. At the landing, she caught Annok-sur’s eye, and nodded.
With the issue of drafting new laws resolved, only two more items remained before she could enjoy the feast: her separate meetings with Gatus and then Korthac.
A few moments later, Gatus entered the workroom, closing the door behind him.
“What is it, Trella,” he asked. “Is anything wrong?”
“I’m sure it’s nothing, Gatus,” she said, but her face remained serious as she took her seat across from the soldier. “I know your messengers returned this morning, and I wanted a word with you before the feast gets under way.”
At her urging, Gatus had sent a few riders out to check on the two regular patrols guarding Akkad. The patrols rode a gradual circle around the city, returning every five or six days. He’d instructed the messengers to make contact with each patrol. Afterward, the messengers would then ride a great arc to the east and south, looking for any unrest.
“So, is everything in the countryside as it should be? How far did your riders go?”
“The patrols are about forty miles from here, one to the east and the other to the south. They say there’s little trouble anywhere, especially since Eskkar went north. Even the bandits in the west and south seem to have drifted away. Perhaps they heard what happened at Bisitun, and took the lesson to heart.”
“Perhaps. But I’m still troubled by Korthac. We’ve learned little more than what he told us himself that first day we met. The women have failed to learn anything, and even Tammuz and his customers haven’t found a way to get inside his rooms.”
“Maybe there’s nothing to learn,” Gatus said. “Just because he keeps control of his men doesn’t make him dangerous.”
“His treatment of his men is what concerns me. They stay inside, away from women. They don’t gamble in the marketplace, drink in the alehouses, or visit the prostitutes on the river.”
“So he’s a hard taskmaster, but there have been no fights, no thefts. He said he didn’t want them running about until they’d learned the language and customs. They’ve only been here a month or so.”
“Actually, it’s been nearly two months. But I suppose you’re right.”
Trella wasn’t convinced, but she had no facts to argue with Gatus. “Still, I want to be sure the countryside is secure.”
“It’s quieter than it’s ever been. With Eskkar up north, and Bantor following the Alur Meriki to the southeast, the countryside has been swept clean of bandits. Even the lands west of the river are peaceful, and they were mostly untouched by the barbarians. There’s never been much there except isolated farms. Have you heard anything different along the river?”
Each day, boats arrived and departed Akkad, heading for the villages downriver, some going as far as Sumeria and the great ocean.
“No, the villages on the Tigris seem peaceful enough. The boat captains report no unrest, and fewer bandits and pirates than they’re used to seeing.”
Gatus shrugged. “Well, what does it matter? When Eskkar returns in a few weeks, he’ll bring back at least another thirty soldiers, as well as new recruits eager to join Akkad’s soldiers.”
Trella and Gatus had both spoken to Eskkar’s messenger. He’d arrived from Bisitun this morning, bringing news that Eskkar intended to remain up north at least another two or three weeks.
“He seems pleased with his new woman,” Trella said.
Gatus looked down at the floor, and shrugged. “Nothing for you to concern yourself about, Trella. And it’s important that Bisitun be well secured. I’m sure he’ll be back soon enough.”
Trella had learned of Lani’s activities even before Gatus. One of the first messengers from Bisitun had mentioned Lani to his woman, who immediately relayed the information to Trella. At first she hadn’t been concerned, but as the weeks passed, she felt her concern growing. Still, she gave no indication to anyone that she worried about Eskkar’s dalliance.
“I’m sure you’re right, Gatus. But since he remains away, I’m uneasy about the countryside. Could you move the patrols out farther from the city? Say another twenty or thirty miles in every direction?”
“Well, it would take more men and horses. And I’d need more messengers riding back and forth. Do you really think it’s necessary?
“Humor me, then,” she said, leaning toward him and touching his arm.
“And you can tell your riders there will be extra silver for their labors. A few more sweeps before Eskkar returns. Have them increase their distance at least thirty miles.”
“For extra silver, they’ll ride an even larger circle,” he laughed. “I’ll send them out in a day or so. . . .”
She touched his arm again. “Send them tomorrow, Gatus, as soon as they recover from the feast.”
“You’re that concerned about this Korthac?”
“It’s not just him. Besides, you must bear with a pregnant woman. As you say, Eskkar will be back soon, but until then, I find myself often worrying.” She laughed at her own weakness. “Oh, and there’s one more request. I want a rider for a special assignment, to journey to the far northwest. Do you have anyone you can trust? He’ll need to be a strong horseman and have his wits about him.”
“Will he have to do any fighting?”
“No, merely gather some information. You can offer a gold coin in addition to his regular pay.”
“For that, I’d almost go myself. I’ll talk to some of the men tomorrow, and find one to your liking.”
“Then once again you have my thanks, old friend.” She stood. “And now it’s time to begin the feast. I’ve kept you away from the food and wine long enough.”
She escorted him to the door, and they descended the stairs together.
Annok-sur waited there, along with the servants. The workroom would also be used to entertain guests, and they needed time to prepare it. Trella planned to meet with Korthac there.
As he’d already become one of the city’s more important traders, Korthac had received and accepted her invitation. The Egyptian remained a mystery, keeping to himself and staying aloof from the usual Akkadian ways. Her informers had learned nothing useful.
She wanted to understand Korthac better, to learn firsthand what drove the man. Only then would her curiosity be satisfied. Trella hoped to draw him out during today’s festival. Perhaps wine and exotic foods would help loosen his tongue.
Chapter 14
Korthac didn’t bring any of his usual bodyguards to the feast.
Instead he brought Hathor, the only one of his three subcommanders who’d accompanied him into Akkad, and the only one with the wits and self-control to act the part. Aside from Hathor’s trips downriver, his primary responsibility entailed keeping the men under control, away from wine, and apart from the locals. Every day that task grew harder, and the men more difficult to keep under discipline. They’d earned their silver, survived the desert, and now wanted to take some leisure in this strange new city whose pleasures beckoned them. Fortunately the men respected Hathor, who urged them to control themselves a little longer. Korthac knew he needed to keep the men restrained.
With only a handful of men in Akkad, Korthac had too much to lose to take any chances with a drunken soldier getting into trouble. He’d ordered one whipped last week. Only yesterday Hathor had knocked another to the ground. Both Korthac and Hathor reminded their men again and again that, in a few weeks, they’d have plenty of gold and unlimited opportunities to enjoy the women of Akkad.
Korthac’s other two subcommanders, Takany and Nebibi, remained across the river with Ariamus, keeping a watchful eye on the man and helping raise and train the desperate men they recruited. Korthac felt certain he could rely on Ariamus, at least as long as the gold kept flowing.
More than six weeks had passed since Korthac arrived in Akkad, and he’d received a report each week about Ariamus’s progress.
Korthac’s business as a trader provided a legitimate reason to spend hours at the docks with a few of his men, meeting ships as they arrived, doing a little trading here and there.
Occasionally a boat carried one of Ariamus’s men, who would sit with the Egyptian and report. Korthac made sure the messenger got right back aboard a ship heading south. With Trella’s spies everywhere, there must be no boasting words or smug looks to give away his plan.
According to Hathor’s latest report, the former captain of the guard had already mustered over ninety men, almost all of them mounted, and most of them claiming to have fighting experience. Ariamus had dispensed plenty of Korthac’s gold and silver, along with promises of future loot to recruit these men. Korthac doubted they would come close to the quality of his Egyptians, but right now he needed bodies. With enough men who could at least swing a sword, Korthac would seize power in Akkad.
More than half the city’s soldiers were away, either with Eskkar or Bantor. That meant, on any given day, less than a hundred men maintained order, watched the walls, and manned the gates. Korthac had no doubt his seventy Egyptians could take the city from within, as long as they didn’t get involved in an archery battle. He’d watched the Akkadian soldiers practice, and seen what they could do with the bow. But in close-up fighting, his men would prevail. Holding Akkad would be another matter, and for that he needed Ariamus and his men, and, equally as important, their horses.
In a few more weeks, as the entire city knew, Bantor and his men would return from the south. Korthac wanted to act before their arrival. Eskkar, proving as unpredictable as everyone said, lingered in Bisitun. Nevertheless, the barbarian might return to Akkad at any time, probably bringing with him at least half his forces. If he stayed away a few more weeks, Korthac’s work would be much simpler. He’d been in Akkad long enough to understand local politics. The nobles who formed the ruling council were merely traders, men who dealt with buying and selling, not fighting, and all of them intimidated by Eskkar’s soldiers. Several chafed at Eskkar and Trella’s new restrictions on their authority. The people wouldn’t rally around any of them. A few public executions, followed by distribution of a few gold coins, would silence both traders and nobles, and bend them to his rule.
Trella might provide such a rallying point, but he intended to take care of her when the time came. And without Eskkar here to rouse the inhabitants and give them the will to resist, the city would fall like an over-ripe apple from a tree into Korthac’s waiting hands.
Eskkar would have to die, of course, but that could happen just as easily in the north as here in Akkad. As soon as Ariamus raised another twenty or thirty men, Korthac would strike. He’d take the city, then destroy the rest of Eskkar’s forces piecemeal. Only a fool divided his forces.
In
his many battles, Korthac had learned one thing—concentrate his fighters and overwhelm his enemy. It had worked in Egypt and it would work here. He looked forward to teaching this Eskkar the same lesson.
Putting such ideas out of his mind, he thought about today’s celebratory feast. Korthac could smile at that, the futility of the men of this land relying on Ishtar, a female deity, for protection. As foolish as the men of Akkad relying on Trella. Eskkar’s wife had planned a special repast at her home to celebrate some incomprehensible aspect of Ishtar’s power, though the occasion also gave thanks for the deliverance of the city from the barbarian invasion, and for Eskkar’s recent success in Bisitun.
Whatever the reasons, Korthac recognized it for what it was, a chance for Trella to entertain and impress her followers with her authority. All the powerful and influential people in the city had received their invitations, a black-painted piece of pottery bearing Eskkar’s mark on one side and an image of the goddess on the other. Only the lucky few bearing the invitation, and their retainers, would be admitted to Eskkar’s house. The rest of Akkad would celebrate in the streets, probably long into the night.
Korthac had already resigned himself to a night without sleep, with the city full of noise and revelry.
He’d received the invitation three days ago, and, befitting his new status in Akkad, no doubt one of the first to be delivered. This morning he’d coached Hathor in his role, making sure the dour soldier knew how to behave, and reminding him once again to make sure he gave no offense.
Korthac had even bought a new tunic for his subcommander, something that would reflect favorably on his employer’s status.
The late afternoon sun drifted toward the horizon when, wearing his finest garment and new leather sandals, Korthac strode through the streets to Eskkar’s gate, Hathor at his side. Naturally his subcommander carried a sword, but Korthac went unarmed. Weapons would not be permitted inside the courtyard, the usual policy to ensure guests who drank too much didn’t wind up killing each other over some perceived slight.