by Sam Barone
“You men are going on my boats,” he began, “and you’ll follow my orders exactly. Anyone who doesn’t will find themselves swimming. My orders, remember that, not Lord Eskkar’s, not anyone else’s. On the river, you’ll answer only to me.” He paused to stare at Eskkar, who nodded agreement.
“All these boats will be heavily loaded,” Yavtar continued, “and I don’t want some fool tipping one over. No one is to move without asking permission of the boat captain. All of you will be given paddles, and you’ll be expected to use them. Your lord here,” Yavtar pointed to Eskkar with his thumb, “has promised me a bonus if I get all of you to Akkad as soon as possible. So you’ll paddle when I tell you, you’ll sleep where, when, and if I tell you, and you will not move about unless I tell you.”
Yavtar turned back to Eskkar. “Is that as we’ve agreed, Lord Eskkar?”
Eskkar raised up his voice. “All of us will do what we’re told by the boat captains. Obey them as you would me. We want to get to Akkad as soon as possible.”
Yavtar glanced at the sun, already approaching its high point, then turned to his men, who stood lined up against the water’s edge. “Get the men onboard,” he ordered, and walked off. The embarkation of the soldiers began. The boatmen had already stowed and lashed down the food and weapons.
Eskkar felt a hand on his arm and turned to find Lani there. “Lord Eskkar, take this with you. You may want it later.”
The basket held more food, collected at the last moment. Eskkar hadn’t spoken to her since early morning. Taking her hand, he led her away from the jetty. The sounds of activity rose up all around them, but no one paid any attention to the couple.
“Lani,” he began, “I don’t know what will happen at Akkad. But I’ll send for you as soon as I can. Otherwise, Sisuthros will make sure you’re cared for, and . . .”
Lani shook her head. “Eskkar, you needn’t worry about me. Secure your wife’s safety. She needs you now. Do what you must. I’ll wait for your summons.”
He pulled her to him for a moment, felt her hands go around his back as she pressed herself to him. Then he stepped back and met her wet eyes.
“I will take care of you, Lani, for as long as you want me to. Remember that. You have my word.”
He turned and returned to the boats. Yavtar stood waiting for him, and the sailor extended his hand to guide Eskkar down into a rocking craft, the largest of the six vessels.
“Can you swim, Lord Eskkar?”
“Well enough,” Eskkar said, grateful for the skill learned as a boy. “But I prefer to do my swimming near the riverbank, not out in the current.”
“Then I’ll make sure we only capsize near the shore,” Yavtar said with a laugh.
With Eskkar aboard and seated, Yavtar took one last check to ensure that the heavily loaded craft rode evenly in the water. He took his position at the stern, and gave orders to those still standing on the docks. The boatman at the prow cast loose the last of the ropes, and coiled it back into the boat, even as the men left behind waded into the water, pushing the boat out into the river’s current. Eskkar breathed a sigh of relief: under way at last.
Half the men with Eskkar had some experience with boats, another quality Sisuthros searched for while sorting out those who would go.
These men, at Yavtar’s order, began paddling, using slow and even strokes.
Yavtar’s crewman hauled up the small sail the vessel carried amidships, grunting until he’d raised the heavy linen to its full extent before lashing it in place.
Gradually the boat began to speed up as it edged into the middle of the river. “We’ll be safer here,” Yavtar explained, “where the current is swiftest. There aren’t many rapids between Bisitun and Akkad, and it’s easier to control the boat.”
Once in the center of the channel, they glided along, and Eskkar reckoned the pace to be equivalent to a horse’s fast walk. Glancing behind, he saw the other five boats strung out, each raising its own sails.
Yavtar spent plenty of time inspecting the sail and gauging the trim of the boat, moving the men around slightly, and showing them how and when to row. The experienced rivermen didn’t need the lesson, but no one said anything. Yavtar didn’t trust any of them to hold on to a paddle. He made sure a rope fastened each oar to the boat.
By the end of the first hour, they began to settle down. Everyone soon learned not to make any rapid movements, and if one man had to change positions, the others held still. To Eskkar’s relief, the boat seemed stable enough, and he gradually stopped worrying about capsizing. The desultory wind blew from the north, helping to push the boats downstream, and they cut through the water at a steady pace.
Though the boat held nine men, it carried little cargo, so the craft responded well to Yavtar’s handling. With everyone paddling, even with light strokes, the boat fairly flew along, picking up more speed when helped by the wind, which held steady until sundown. Then it changed direction, and Yavtar ordered the sail lowered.
Eskkar opened his mouth, then shut it again.
Yavtar saw the look. “It’s too dangerous at night, Captain,” he explained, a little more talkative now that he knew the soldiers could follow orders. “Hard to see rocks or anything else floating in the water. We would have lowered it anyway. We’ll paddle easy until moonrise.”
Eskkar grunted a little at that news. By now he knew that even light strokes moved the boat at a good pace. He learned to use a smooth, feathering stroke that took little effort. The paddling served as much to guide the boat and keep it centered in the river as to move it along.
When the moon rose, Yavtar picked up the pace. “I’ve never sailed through a whole night before, Lord Eskkar. It’ll be interesting to see how much river we can cover by dawn.”
In the moonlight, Eskkar could scarcely make out the boat behind them, still keeping its station and holding its distance. He hoped the other boats followed behind, all at their proper intervals.
Whether he rowed or rested, Eskkar kept his thoughts fixed on Akkad.
The possibility that Trella might be dead kept disturbing his thoughts, filling him with anger and anguish. He remembered the fear that had numbed him when she’d been stabbed in the street. She had almost died that day.
He remembered how he’d turned away as the healer dressed her wound, unable to watch her suffering.
At least then he could turn his thoughts to vengeance. Now he faulted his own actions for whatever might have befallen her. Eskkar had over-stayed his trip to Bisitun. He’d taken his pleasure with Lani, with hardly a thought to Trella, her well-being, or even the coming child. Whatever fate had befallen her, it would not have happened if he had returned earlier.
Instead he’d postponed his return again and again, telling himself Trella had everything under control, that he could do more good in Bisitun. Staring down at the river, he blamed himself for whatever evil had arisen, his thoughts as black as the parting water.
Grond must have known what thoughts troubled his leader. “Captain, there was nothing you could have done. The assassins left Akkad ten days ago. If we’d been in Akkad, if four men suddenly attacked you in the street, we might both be dead. Staying in Bisitun may have saved your life.”
“And what of Trella? I don’t know if she’s alive or dead. I just hope she’s still safe.”
“What you should be thinking about is how this plot came about,”
Grond countered. “How did this happen without Trella’s spies learning of it? Who could put such a plan together, gather enough men, ambush Bantor, and send assassins after you? None of the messengers, including the Hawk Clan riders, had mentioned even a rumor of a problem.”
Those same thoughts had plagued Eskkar. “It takes gold to bring that many men together, even with such a prize as Akkad at stake. I know of no one in Akkad who could devise such a plan.”
“And I don’t think anyone in Akkad could do this without some word getting to Lady Trella,” Grond offered. “Perhaps it’s this Ariamus. Who
is he?”
He told Grond about Ariamus and the gloomy days in Akkad before the Alur Meriki. Grond grunted when Eskkar finished, but said nothing.
Nevertheless, talking it all over with Grond helped clear Eskkar’s mind. For perhaps the first time since the attack last night, he started thinking clearly.
He kept paddling, the slow, deep strokes occupying his muscles and soothing his mind, while he began running what little he knew in his head.
Bantor attacked on the road, a few hours from reaching Akkad. That would destroy any organized force of soldiers outside the city. Assassins trying to kill him in Bisitun. Eskkar’s death would certainly have disrupted the soldiers, and might have slowed down any response to word of trouble in Akkad. So someone wanted to keep soldiers away from the city, no doubt while they consolidated their control. His death, even the ambush of Bantor’s men, meant nothing without taking power in the city.
And Grond spoke the truth. Little went on in Akkad that Trella didn’t learn of sooner or later. Ariamus wouldn’t dare show his face in the city.
Despite the former captain of the guard’s fighting skills, he wasn’t capable of outwitting Trella. Ariamus, Eskkar decided, would need an ally inside the city, someone who could put together a grand scheme to seize power over the thousands that now lived there. That meant there must be someone else in Akkad, a disgruntled noble or wealthy merchant, even possibly a newcomer. Eskkar swore under his breath. He needed more information.
“There is nothing to do now, Captain,” Grond said, hearing the curse, “except get to Bantor and Rebba. They’ll tell us what’s been going on.”
So Grond had come to the same conclusion.
“We’ll need to be careful, Grond, when we get to Rebba’s place. There might be a trap. Bantor and his men might have been captured days ago and put to the torture.”
Yavtar called out from the stern, telling them to take a break. Eskkar lifted the wet paddle and rested it across his knees. He wanted to keep rowing, to not waste a moment in delay, but the others needed their rest.
The boat kept moving, gliding with the current, every moment bringing him closer to Akkad.
The night passed quickly enough. When the men didn’t row, they slept at the oars. Eskkar checked his wound several times, but noticed no signs of bleeding. The pain had gone, though the arm felt stiff and sore.
Dawn found them many miles downstream from Bisitun. When Yavtar worked out how much they had traveled, he smiled for the first time since the voyage began. “We’re doing well, lord,” he announced. “More important, we haven’t capsized, lost any paddles, or drowned anyone, at least not yet. Your men aren’t bad sailors. I think we can pick up the pace, after the men have eaten.”
They ate without leaving their positions, hunks of dry sausage washed down with water scooped directly from the river. Bread completed the meal. Yavtar slowed the boat and waited until all the other craft had caught up with his. After checking with the other shipmasters, he shouted out some incomprehensible orders about how much faster they would travel today, his voice booming over the river. He ordered the sail raised, and the men back to their paddles.
Eskkar scarcely noticed the extra effort demanded by Yavtar, but the boat moved much more rapidly. The morning sun brought a slight but steady breeze from the east, so they quartered the sail in the wind’s direction, and that alone would have kept them going at a good pace. With six men working the oars, the boat appeared to move twice as fast as yesterday afternoon, the water curling noisily from its prow. He asked Yavtar about their speed, wondering if they could move even faster.
“Not likely, lord,” Yavtar answered, sitting back in the stern with the steering oar under his arm. “Everyone will be tired enough by the end of the day at this pace, I promise you. Better pray the gods don’t shift the wind any further, or it will hold us back instead of pushing us along.”
To keep his mind occupied, Eskkar studied the wind, noticing how Yavtar’s sailor kept adjusting the sail to meet the breeze. By noon, Eskkar thought he had the knack of it, and could have handled the sail himself, even without Yavtar’s orders.
The midday sun slackened the wind. Yavtar began eying the riverbank, searching for landmarks, until he found what he sought. A small island appeared near the west bank, with two poplar trees growing on it. Yavtar turned his rudder and put the boat directly into a sand spit that hissed beneath Eskkar as the boat ground to halt. The sudden cessation of movement felt unnatural after being in constant motion for over a day. Before Eskkar could question the delay, Yavtar spoke.
“We’ll rest here while I check the other boats, and rearrange our cargo. We can all stretch our legs.”
One by one, the other boats beached themselves on the soft sand as they pulled alongside Yavtar’s craft. As soon as the men settled onshore, Yavtar called the boat captains together and spoke with each of them.
When he finished, the boatmen went into the water, checking the hulls for leaks, tipping each craft from one side to the other to inspect all they could see. Afterward, Yavtar made sure each boat captain had what he needed, and understood his orders.
As soon as his men had checked the boats and made any needed repairs, Yavtar ordered the food unpacked. The constant labor in the fresh air had given all of them a huge appetite, and they devoured nearly half their food. After they finished eating, they had to wait until the sailors rearranged the goods and weapons, lashing everything securely. Only then did the soldiers climb back aboard the boats, to take their carefully arranged positions. With a single grunt, Yavtar ordered them downstream.
“We’ve had our big meal for the day, lord,” Yavtar said a little later, still chewing on a piece of bread. “Supper tonight will be day-old bread as we row, and we’ll try to keep this pace.”
“How far have we come, Yavtar?” Eskkar asked.
“Farther than I thought we could. Your men have strong backs, I’ll say that for them. I always wondered how fast a trip could be made by sailing through the night, but I never thought I’d make such a voyage. Too risky for the cargo.” He laughed at that thought, but then lapsed into silence.
The land on either side of them flowed steadily by, and those on the land took little if any notice of their passage. A handful of farmers paused to stare at them with open mouths, and once some shepherds tending a small flock of sheep ran along the riverbank, calling out greetings and shouting in excitement as the ships glided by. Those on the shore had probably never seen so many boats passing at one time. Nevertheless, except for some women gathering water or washing clothes, not many people labored at the river’s edge. Eskkar tried to see the trail that paralleled the river, but in most locations, it ran nearly half a mile away.
Hopefully, Eskkar told himself, no travelers journeying on horseback would pay much attention to their passage. If someone saw them, by the time the tale could be told, the boats would be far down the Tigris, moving faster than any horse.
They didn’t stop again until dusk. Yavtar used the last of the day’s light to beach his boat once again, this time on the eastern bank. While he inspected the craft, Eskkar checked the casks that held the bowstrings, to make sure the seals looked dry and tight. One of the smaller boats had capsized earlier in the afternoon, after brushing against some rocks; the men had righted it soon enough, and managed to catch up with the others, none the worse for the experience. Other than that, no mishaps had occurred.
“Make sure the men finish the food, Grond,” Eskkar ordered. There’d be plenty to eat at Rebba’s farm. Either that, or they’d be fighting for their lives.
They ate in silence. This time Eskkar and the others forced themselves to swallow as much of the food as they could. They might be fighting before they got to eat again, and only a few loaves of bread remained when the men reboarded the crafts. They hadn’t stopped for longer than needed, and darkness again covered the river as they pushed off. This time Yavtar slackened the pace at the oars a bit. The river narrowed somewhat as they drew c
loser to Akkad, and the current speeded up. Still, Eskkar felt his arms aching from the constant strain.
They rowed steadily, picking up the pace again when the moon rose and Yavtar raised the sail. The boat captain kept his crewman attending to the sail, ready to drop it to the deck should any problem arise. They rowed for nearly four hours before Yavtar called for another break; this time he moved down the boat to squat next to Eskkar.
“Lord, I think we’re a little more than three hours from Rebba’s jetty. If nothing goes wrong, you’ll be ashore not long after midnight. That should give you enough time to rest and stretch your limbs.”
“My thanks to you, Yavtar. I still cannot believe we covered so much distance so quickly. It would have taken days on the road to reach Akkad.”
Yavtar’s teeth flashed in the moonlight. “I’ve enjoyed the trip more than you know. I always wanted to race the river, and you’ve given me the chance, and paid me for it as well. In less than two days, we’ve covered nearly a hundred and thirty miles. No man, no river captain has ever accomplished such a thing.”
“You’ve made me think about using the river to move men in the future, Yavtar. I’ll not forget what I’ve seen and learned on this trip.”
The boat captain focused his attention on the river for a few moments, and Eskkar thought the conversation ended.
“Lord Eskkar,” Yavtar said, “when you go ashore, I want to come with you.”
Eskkar blinked in surprise. “I thought you planned to return to Bisitun. We’ll be fighting for our lives at Akkad.”
“I was going to, but I’ve changed my mind.” Yavtar grunted, as if surprised at his own decision. “In my years, I’ve seen more bandits, brigands, robbers, and thieves up and down the length of the Tigris than you could imagine. Sometimes I ferried them from place to place, and I fought them off more than once. But your soldiers are different. I’ve watched you and your men for the last two days. They show no fear, no doubt. They don’t brag about what they’ve done or what they’ll do. They follow your orders without thinking or worrying about the danger.”