Eskkar Saga 02 - Empire Rising

by Sam Barone

  Unsure of what to do, Tammuz and En-hedu stood there with a dozen others, even after the fighting ended, watching events unfold. Along with a few dozen of Akkad’s stunned citizens, Tammuz and En-hedu had seen Korthac capture Eskkar’s house. Whatever warning Tammuz might have given would likely have arrived too late. By the time he’d convinced anyone of the danger, Korthac’s men would have struck.

  Just when Tammuz decided they’d best return to the alehouse, armed men poured out of Eskkar’s house.

  Tammuz and En-hedu, like all the frightened villagers, shrank against the wall or into nearby homes while the fierce-looking Egyptians marched by, many with blood still on their swords. After all the invaders had passed, with En-hedu holding his left arm, Tammuz followed behind them, keeping back a safe distance. When they reached the open area before the main gate, he and En-hedu could see that the archers in the towers had refused to surrender. As they watched, shafts flew at the invaders, pushing them back into the lane.

  “Wait here,” Tammuz said, nudging En-hedu into a doorway. He slipped as close to the rear of the Egyptians as he dared. He heard Hathor and Korthac talking, along with another man they called Takany, who seemed to be Korthac’s second in command. The three men spoke briefly, but always in Egyptian, and Tammuz had no idea of what they said.

  When Korthac finished, Hathor raced off back up the lane toward Eskkar’s house. Tammuz watched as Korthac and Takany positioned their men, to make sure no reinforcements could reach the gate or towers, and to prevent the soldiers within from escaping. Then Korthac stood there, waiting.

  Before long, Hathor returned, leading a dozen men carrying torches and escorting Lady Trella, her hands bound together with a leather thong and escorted by two grinning Egyptians who held her by the arms as they hurried her along. They took her directly to where Korthac waited. He spoke to her, then slapped her across the face before taking hold of her wrist and twisting it until she cried out.

  Appearing satisfied at Trella’s reaction, Korthac pushed her into Hathor’s arms. “Take her to the gate,” Korthac ordered, speaking in Akkadian to make sure Trella understood his words. “If the soldiers don’t surrender, kill her.”

  Stunned at Trella’s treatment, Tammuz watched as Hathor led Lady Trella out into the open space behind the gate.

  “Soldiers of Akkad,” Hathor shouted, his powerful voice echoing throughout the area. “If you don’t lay down your weapons and surrender, Lady Trella will be put to death, and then we’ll kill everyone in the towers.”

  Tammuz saw that Hathor stood beside Trella, an easy shot for most of the archers in the tower. But everyone knew what would happen to Trella if an arrow struck him down. Hathor waited a few moments, then called out again. “For the last time . . . surrender now, and you will live.”

  He pushed Trella forward. “Tell them.”

  “Soldiers, come down from the towers.” Trella’s voice carried easily to the walls. “Don’t resist. Save your own lives.”

  Tammuz shook his head. Never had he thought such a thing could happen.

  “Korthac’s too wise to stand out there in the open, where an arrow could take him,” En-hedu said, watching the spectacle. She’d ignored Tammuz’s order to stay behind and moved up to join him. “He lets Hathor take the risk of dying.”

  “This is bad,” Tammuz said. “The guards will have to surrender.”

  “We should get back to the alehouse,” En-hedu whispered. “We can’t do anything here. They may start killing everyone in the streets.”

  “As soon as I see what happens. I have to make sure.”

  Shouting voices came from the towers, but the debate didn’t last long.

  The twenty or thirty men, divided between the towers and outnumbered by at least five times their strength, had no choice but to yield. Without weapons, food, and water, they couldn’t hold out. At Trella’s urging, they put down their weapons and filed from the tower.

  By then Tammuz had seen enough. With all resistance ended, the terror would begin. “Let’s get out of here, before the looting starts.”

  He hurried En-hedu along, his knife held tight against his side. But they didn’t encounter any of Korthac’s men, and soon reached Tammuz’s establishment, as dark as every house on the lane. No one would burn even the smallest lamp tonight, afraid to attract any attention from their new masters.

  A worried Kuri let them into the alehouse, sword in hand, and barred the door behind them. Only a faint glow from the fireplace embers gave any illumination.

  Tammuz peered into the common room, but saw no one.

  “I chased them all out, and told them not to return until morning,”

  Kuri said. “They’ll be busy enough, picking up whatever they can steal in all this confusion.” Using a shard of pottery, he lifted a glowing ember from what remained of the fire, and carried it into Tammuz’s private room, where he touched it to the oil lamp.

  He blew on it gently, until a tiny flame appeared, enough to reveal another presence waiting for them.

  “What’s happening out there?” Gatus lay across Tammuz’s bed, one hand clutching his side, his voice weak and full of pain. His still-bloody sword lay beside him, close to his hand.

  En-hedu pushed past the men. She lifted the lamp and moved it closer to Gatus. “Hold the lamp here, Tammuz, while I look after his wound.”

  Lifting his garment, she moved aside Gatus’s hand and examined the gash just above his hip. She’d tended enough cuts and scrapes at the tannery, though nothing as deep as this. “He’s still bleeding. His arm is cut and his side. The blade must have passed through his arm.”

  “An arm’s not very good as a shield,” Gatus said, wincing in pain. “Just tie it up. I have to go . . . get to my men.”

  “You can’t go anywhere, Gatus,” Tammuz said, his voice sounding harsh in the small room. “Trella’s been captured, the barracks and both gates seized. All the soldiers have been taken prisoner, except for the ones who died. Korthac rules Akkad.”

  “Korthac! That Egyptian dog . . .”

  “By dawn, half of Korthac’s men will be searching for you. Simut must have had orders to kill you. Instead, we killed him and one of his men. The Egyptians will want revenge for that. They’ll want you, or your dead body.”

  “That was you? My thanks for that stroke, Tammuz,” Gatus said. “Did Kuri teach you how to fight?”

  “Thank En-hedu as well. She saved both of us.”

  Gatus looked at En-hedu in confusion, so Tammuz recounted the fight and described Simut’s death, while En-hedu cleaned the soldier’s wounds.

  “He can stay here,” Kuri said. “I mean . . . he’s bleeding pretty bad.”

  “They’ll search everywhere, including here,” Tammuz said. “We’ll have to find someplace else.”

  “We’ll hide him here, on the roof,” En-hedu said. She tore a piece of cloth in half and turned to Kuri. “Help me lift him.” They lifted Gatus’s shoulders up off the bed, enough for her to slip the cloth underneath him.

  She used another piece of linen to thicken the bandage, and tied it tight around his waist. Then she bound up his arm.

  Straightening, she faced the two men. “They’ll search here, but they won’t go up on the roof. We can distract anyone who comes looking, if need be, and make sure they don’t poke around too closely. He can stay up there in the hiding hole all day, or at least until they’ve come and gone.”

  “All day in the sun? He’ll bake . . .”

  “We’ll give him a blanket to cover himself,” she said. “And some water. With luck, they won’t find him up there. After they’ve searched, we can bring him back down.” En-hedu looked down at Gatus. “He needs a healer, but that will have to wait, at least until tomorrow night.”

  “I’ve been in the sun before,” he said, peering from one to the other in the dim light. “One more day won’t kill me.” He choked off a laugh at his own words.

  The roof above their heads, the solid part, had a flat space barel
y large enough for two people to stretch out. But what looked like the end of the roof was in reality a false wall, concealing a narrow niche where Tammuz, like the previous owner, had found occasion to temporarily hide stolen goods. It would be a tight squeeze to get Gatus in the hiding hole, but he’d be out of sight and well hidden.

  “We’ll have to get him up there before dawn, so nobody sees him,” Tammuz said. “If they find him . . .”

  “You and En-hedu should go somewhere safe,” Kuri said. “Get out of the city. I’ll stay here with Gatus.”

  “No, we’re not going,” En-hedu said, her voice decisive. “Why would we leave our business? They’d be suspicious at that. It makes no difference to us who runs Akkad. We should tell everyone we’re glad Korthac’s taken control.”

  Tammuz stared at her. He’d never heard such hardness in her voice.

  “We don’t know how many men Korthac has. They may loot and rape the whole city before they go.”

  “They’re not going anywhere,” she said, still speaking with conviction.

  “Korthac would have struck weeks ago if he’d wanted to loot and run.”

  “If they stay . . . there will be rapes . . . the women . . . no place will be safe.” Tammuz looked at her, worry on his face.

  She reached out and touched Tammuz’s arm. “So we might as well stay here.”

  “I won’t see you taken by those men, En-hedu. I swear . . .”

  “We have our knives,” she said, “if it comes to that.”

  “And my old sword,” Kuri said, patting his belt.

  They looked at each other in the dim light. En-hedu raised her arms and placed one hand on each man’s shoulder. “It’s settled, then. We stay, and wait for Eskkar to return. And we stay alive.”

  Long before midnight, the last of the fighting for Akkad had ended.

  Korthac felt secure enough to station half his followers at the gates and let the rest get some sleep. The most serious fighting had occurred at the barracks. A few of the soldiers had managed to get their bows in play, and Takany had lost a dozen Egyptians, while almost twenty of Ariamus’s followers had died.

  Taking the barracks had secured the city, and capturing Trella had made the victory complete. Most of Akkad’s soldiers had been in the wine shops and alehouses, and the rest taken by surprise. As important as the men, the captured barracks held almost all of the soldiers’ weapons—the bows, swords, knives, and axes needed to defend the city. With the barracks and Eskkar’s house taken, the remainder of the soldiers had headed for the main gate, trying to rally their forces there.

  For a time the soldiers blocked the entrances to the guard towers, but without someone to lead them, they had little choice but to surrender. A few scrambled down the wall and escaped to the fields, but Korthac didn’t worry about them. Ariamus would have men hunting them down in the morning.

  Dawn brought a new era to Akkad. People did not leave their houses, huddling inside in fear, while Korthac’s men roamed the streets, looting the shops and random homes, guzzling wine and assaulting women. After letting the pillaging go on for most of the morning as a reward for his men, Korthac issued orders to his Egyptians, and they soon had the city’s inhabitants and Ariamus’s ruffians under control.

  The killings began just before noon. All those who had insulted Korthac during his stay in the city died, as did those who spoke out against their new ruler. The nobles and leading merchants, summoned to the marketplace under threat of death to them and their families, swore allegiance on their knees to Korthac. He promulgated a series of orders, the first of which instructed everyone to turn in any weapons in their possession at once.

  All persons caught carrying or possessing a sword or bow would be put to death on the spot, along with their families. All persons speaking of Eskkar or Trella would have their tongues cut out. The process of teaching Eskkar’s citizens their new place in Korthac’s world had begun.

  Korthac returned to Eskkar’s house by midafternoon, tired and hungry. The long night and hectic morning had wearied him, but he still had one task to perform. Accompanied by Ariamus, he climbed the stairs to Trella’s quarters. His guards moved aside as he stepped into the bedroom.

  Annok-sur and Trella rose from the bed as he entered, Annok-sur’s arm around Trella’s shoulders. The room seemed hot, and the smell of fear and blood lingered inside the walls.

  “You are well, I hope, Lady Trella?” He kept his voice pleasant and smiled at her discomfort.

  “What is it you want . . . Honorable Korthac. Why have you . . .”

  “Whatever I want is what I’ll have, Lady Trella, and you will not question me again, about anything. You are mine now, as much as Akkad is mine. Follow me.”

  He stepped back into the outer room. His men had returned the big table to its proper place, and he stood next to it. Trella moved toward him, and stopped just inside the workroom, Annok-sur a step behind her.

  “Come here. Kneel before your new master.”

  Trella hesitated. “Honorable Korthac . . .”

  Moving swiftly, he caught Trella by the hair and yanked her in front of the table. He pushed her up against it, then slapped her across the face.

  “You are my slave, Trella, for as long as I choose to let you live, and you will address me as ‘lord.’ Do you understand?”

  Her hand went to her cheek, and she nodded. “Yes . . . lord.”

  Annok-sur stepped into the workroom, but Korthac whirled to face her. “I did not give you leave to move about.” He turned to Ariamus. “Kill her if she leaves the bedroom.”

  “Stay inside, Annok-sur,” Trella said, “don’t let . . .”

  Korthac turned back to her. “You do not give orders to anyone any longer.” He struck her again, harder this time; blood dripped from her mouth and she slipped to her knees, as much from the blow as his order to kneel. “If you speak out of turn again, if you fail to obey the least of my orders, I’ll have the child cut from your body and tossed into the fire.”

  He smiled as she moved herself upright, but remained on her knees.

  For a moment he was tempted to have her pleasure him right then and there. It would be fitting humiliation for her, in front of a roomful of strangers. But such things could wait, and he felt too tired to enjoy it properly. Besides, every day that passed would add to her embarrassment.

  “Keep her in these rooms. The door is to remain open. She is to see no one, speak to no one. If she complains or gives you any trouble, kill her servants in front of her, one by one, starting with Annok-sur.”

  Looking down at her, he noticed the thin strand of leather hanging around her neck. He pulled it toward him, lifting a gold coin up from between her breasts. “You’ll have no need for gold any more, Lady Trella.”

  With a quick jerk, he snapped the leather, then raised the coin to his eyes.

  It was simply a common coin, one with Nicar’s mark on it, and a thin groove. Korthac tossed the coin to one of his men. It pleased him to take it from her. Obviously the coin meant something special to her, and now it, too, was gone. She’d learn soon enough that she had nothing, was nothing.

  He reached out and ran his fingers through Trella’s hair, enjoying its texture. Gradually he tightened his grip until her head twisted upward, the hair pulled back from her face, her eyes wide with distress. When she started to gasp from the pain, he relaxed his hand, then gently brushed the few loose strands from her eyes. Yes, she’d give him plenty of pleasure before he finished with her.

  Trella sat on the bed, trying to think. In less than a day, Korthac had seized Akkad and established himself as the city’s ruler. He’d killed, captured, or driven into hiding Akkad’s mighty archers. She’d become a prisoner, worse, a slave, only this time she had a child due in a few weeks.

  The last word from Eskkar had come three days ago, informing her yet again that he intended to remain in the north a little longer.

  Her fists clenched in anger, furious at her husband for taking his pleasu
res in Bisitun, while Akkad and she fell into Korthac’s hands. How dare he leave her like this. He should have returned weeks ago to protect her. She wanted to . . . no, she needed Eskkar, needed him to save her and their unborn child. The thought that he might abandon them to their fate, turn away from her and Akkad, frightened her. She thought about his new woman, and that image made her rage increase. Perhaps he’d choose a fresh life with his new concubine, choose to avoid a fight and continue his life in the north. That image tortured her for a long moment, until she regained control of her emotions.

  No, she decided. Eskkar would not abandon her. If for no other reason than his barbarian code of honor, he would return to destroy Korthac for what he’d done. If he still lived. Trella shook her head. Without him, if he were dead, there would be no hope to escape the fate that Korthac planned for her and the child. She had to believe that he remained alive, that he would come for her. She could cling to that.

  “We must get word to Eskkar,” Trella whispered to Annok-sur, seated beside her. “He’ll need to know how strong a force Korthac has assembled.”

  “Don’t forget, Bantor is due any day. Together they’ll . . .”

  “Korthac isn’t afraid of Eskkar or Bantor, Annok-sur. Did you see how many men he has? I counted as many as I could when they took me to the gate. He must have at least a hundred and fifty, maybe two hundred. More than enough to control the city and stop anyone from rising up against him. Only Eskkar can rally the people to resist.”

  “Assuming that he’s still alive,” Annok-sur said.

  “He has to be alive, or we’re all lost,” Trella said. “Besides, how could they kill him up in Bisitun, guarded by Grond and surrounded by his men?”

  “Both Korthac and Ariamus said Eskkar is dead.”

  “Do you believe them? They offered no proof.”

  Her own question made Trella stop and think. Proof would be Eskkar’s head, or a dozen witnesses to his death. She took her time, trying to recall the Egyptian’s exact words, and comparing them to those she’d overheard from the boasting Ariamus. Korthac had claimed his men had struck down Eskkar in Bisitun’s lanes, but Ariamus said Eskkar and his men had been killed in a fight. The slight difference might not mean much, but she needed something to give her hope.