by Sam Barone
“Didn’t these bandits kill most of your men?” Rebba countered.
“We were ambushed by sixty or seventy men, caught by surprise on tired horses. Even so, we killed more of them than we lost. We drove them away, Rebba. They ran from us, remember that.”
“That’s not how Ariamus described the battle.” Rebba sighed. “Anyway, many in Akkad have no love for Eskkar and Trella.” The noble paused, considering his words. “But many more will follow him, that’s true enough.
If he’s still alive.” He sat down on a stool. “Let me think a moment.”
Bantor bided his time, gripping his sword hilt and staring at the master farmer, as the moments passed.
“You have forced the choice on me, Bantor. I was going to Akkad to find out which way the wind blew. Now I must throw in my lot with you and Eskkar. Even if you didn’t hold my family hostage, Korthac would never trust me again, once he finds out you and your men came to me.
He’ll be looking for any excuse to confiscate land and property, to execute a few landowners as an example. So I can’t tell him you’re here.” He shook his head at his predicament, then stood. “I have to go. The sooner I know what’s going on, the better we’ll know what to do.”
Bantor didn’t like having to trust the old noble, but this Korthac had summoned Rebba, so he must go, before someone came out looking for him. No important landowner could ignore such a summons, and Korthac would certainly notice if Noble Rebba didn’t appear as ordered.
“Gather your family fi rst, Rebba, and talk to them. I’ll keep all of the women and children here in the house. I’ll kill them myself, Rebba, if you betray me.”
“Save your threats, Bantor. I know what must be done. Still, the women and children will be safer indoors for the next few days anyway. I’m sure Ariamus’s men will be wandering the countryside, looking for loot and women.”
“Then I’ll make sure they’re safe, Rebba,” Bantor said.
“And I’ll explain everything to my sons.” Rebba started toward the door, then stopped to stand directly before Bantor. “I’ll assure them you’re here to protect them. Remember that, before you do anything foolish. I think you would be wise to wait for Eskkar, if indeed he is coming.” Without pausing for a reply or approval, he walked past Bantor and stepped outside, calling to his sons and grandsons.
Bantor followed him and waved his arms toward the river. His men appeared, alert, with their bows strung, and moved toward the house.
As Bantor stood there, Rebba explained the situation to his family. His sons and grandsons, their women and the frightened servants, all glanced apprehensively first at Bantor, then at the dirty, hard-looking armed men striding past them, hands on their weapons. Every man’s eyes remained watchful and wary. Rebba, fi nishing with his sons, called the older women to his side and spoke to them as well. When he fi nished, the women gathered up the children and moved back toward the house.
Rebba, accompanied by two of his sons, began his journey toward Akkad. The city lay just beyond the curve of the river, little more than two miles away, but it would take them most of an hour to reach it, at the old man’s slow pace.
As he watched them depart, Bantor felt the helplessness that comes when another controls your fate. Then a young girl, barely old enough to walk on her own and oblivious of his frown, slipped away from her mother and ran up to him. The mother, carrying another child on her hip, looked at Bantor nervously as he scooped the giggling girl up and carried her into the house.
Inside, another girl, a few years older, asked him if he and his men had eaten this morning.
“No, girl. We’ve not eaten since last night.” Bantor lowered the little girl to the floor and let himself relax. He glanced down the trail through the doorway and took one last look at Rebba, walking south. Bantor had done all he could do, and would just have to wait. The last of his men filed into the house. The siege of Akkad had begun.
Bantor tried to rest as the long day dragged by. One of the women examined his shoulder, and declared nothing broken, though the pain felt as sharp as ever. He spent most of the afternoon pacing back and forth between the main house and the sentries he’d posted around the farm’s outskirts, watching the path to Akkad. He’d expected Rebba to return by midafternoon, but as the sun began to set, the noble hadn’t returned, and Bantor wondered if the old man had betrayed him. He met with Klexor; they spoke about what they’d do if attacked, and how they’d fight their way to the boats and cross the river.
His men, taking their cue from their commander, waited, weapons at hand. Worry spread to the rest of the household. Everyone grew more frightened with each passing hour.
As dusk descended, the dogs gave the first sign of someone approaching. They began barking before the sentry caught sight of the returning men. Bantor recognized the yapping of dogs welcoming their master’s return, not the deep growls that would warn of strangers prowling about in the night.
Nevertheless, Bantor ordered Klexor to take some men and scout the fields, to make sure no one followed Rebba. Bantor had been ambushed once. He’d not be caught a second time.
Rebba, slow of step and tired from a long day, reached his house, to the joy of his family. Bantor stood by and watched in silence as Rebba greeted his kin and accepted a cup of wine to refresh himself. At last Rebba told everyone to go inside the house. He and Bantor walked a few steps to the big willow tree that grew alongside the house. They sat on benches, facing each other in the gathering darkness across a table, its top scarred and rough from years of chopping vegetables and small game. Two dogs, their master’s favorites, arranged themselves at his feet.
“The news is bad, Bantor,” Rebba began, reaching down to stroke one of the dogs. He kept his voice low, though no one stood close enough to hear their words. The dogs would alert them if anyone tried to approach them in the darkness. “Korthac controls the city. His men have killed or captured most of the soldiers.”
Bantor expected that news. If this demon Korthac didn’t control the city, Bantor wouldn’t be here hiding in the dark. “How many men does he have, Rebba?”
“Not many, I think, though Ariamus claims to have hundreds of men under his command. Both Korthac and Ariamus are offering silver to any man who follows their orders, and already some have joined him, either for the silver or to take part in future lootings. That, also, Ariamus has promised to them.”
Bantor ground his teeth at Ariamus’s name, but then repeated his question. “How many men?”
“I’d say a hundred and twenty at most. Apparently you did kill many of them, and others died fighting the soldiers at the barracks. I think he had less than a hundred and fifty when he attacked. Of course, others have joined up with him.”
Bantor relaxed for the first time all day. A hundred bandits, even a few more, would not stop the trained soldiers who had beaten the Alur Meriki.
“Once Eskkar gets here with his men, if we can get into Akkad, we have more than enough to fight them. As soon as we begin, the villagers will join us.”
Rebba shook his head. “Don’t be so sure. The rumor is true. Eskkar is dead. He was killed a few days ago in Bisitun by Korthac’s men. Without Eskkar’s name to rally the villagers, few will join you.”
Eskkar dead! And Trella, what would happen to her? “What about Lady Trella? Is she dead, too? And Annok-sur?”
“No, Korthac captured Trella, along with your wife. His men stormed the house and killed the guards, except for a handful that escaped or surrendered. Now he resides there, with Trella and Annok-sur under guard and confined to the bed chamber.”
“And Annok-sur, is she…”
“I didn’t see her, but I’m sure she’s safe. Korthac has no reason to kill either her or Trella. That could be the one thing that might inflame the villagers to resist him. So he’ll keep Trella alive, for now at least.”
Bantor felt relief wash over him. He and Annok-sur had suffered many hard years together, and it angered him to think that her life depende
d on another man’s whim. If anything happened to her, he’d kill this Korthac himself. “What about Gatus? Is he dead, too?”
Rebba laughed in the darkness. “The old soldier slipped past his assassins, though one of his men was killed at his side. Korthac’s men claimed they wounded him, and that he must be dead by now. But they haven’t found his body yet.”
Bantor slumped back on the bench. This sounded bad. Eskkar’s house and Trella captured, the barracks stormed, Gatus wounded or dead, and Eskkar murdered. With Eskkar gone, the soldiers would not rally around any of the nobles. He remembered his wife’s words. The one thing Annok-sur had feared more than anything-an attack on Trella and Eskkar. Without their protection, Bantor and his wife would have no future in Akkad.
They would have to flee the city. Somehow he would have to snatch his wife away from Korthac, then slip away with his men. It would.. A new thought crossed his mind.
“Rebba, how did Eskkar die?”
The old farmer had to think about that. “I’m not sure. Korthac didn’t say much about it. I believe Ariamus said he was killed by a sword. Yes, that’s what he said.”
“And the men who brought word of this? How many men did Ariamus send to kill Eskkar?”
“Just a handful, I think. He didn’t say. Only that they had killed Eskkar a few days ago and just returned from Bisitun.”
Bantor’s smile returned. Eskkar had been declared dead at least three times before. “Well, Rebba, let’s talk about that. Korthac and Ariamus sent some men up to Bisitun. They slipped past Grond and Sisuthros, and all of Eskkar’s Hawk Clan guards, murdered him, then escaped back here with the news, without being killed or captured by Eskkar’s seventy men.
Did they bring back his head, as proof of their story?”
“Hmm, I see what you mean,” Rebba said softly. “Yes, that does sound too easy, doesn’t it. How good were the men with Eskkar?”
“Many of them rode against the barbarians. It would take more than a half-dozen bandits to escape those men, Rebba. Even if Eskkar were murdered, I don’t think any would get away from Sisuthros and his men to tell the tale.”
Rebba put both hands on the table, as if searching for support from the strong wood. “If Eskkar is not dead, then he will be here in a week or so, with his men. With your soldiers, he could quickly raise another hundred men who would follow him.”
“More than that, I think.”
“Don’t be so quick to count your victory, Bantor. You would be outside the walls, and in a week, Ariamus and Korthac can enlist plenty of men from among the rogues and villains in the city and countryside. Korthac has plenty of gold to pay them. And despite what you say, it will not be easy to get past the gate. It’s guarded even better than before. And remember, Korthac has Lady Trella. If I know Eskkar, he won’t do anything that will get her killed.”
“My rider will reach Eskkar in two more days,” Bantor said, as if thinking out loud, “even if he has to kill the horses. With a forced march, Eskkar and the men can be here five days later, faster if he comes ahead by horseback.”
Rebba nodded. “Yes, that sounds right. So it seems you will be my guest for at least that long. What are you planning to do?”
The question caught Bantor by surprise. So far, he hadn’t thought about anything other than waiting for Eskkar. “I’m not sure, Rebba. I’d like to find Gatus, if he is still alive. But I dare not go into the city.”
“Yes, you would be recognized.” Rebba sighed. “I can’t search Akkad in your place. Besides, Korthac’s men are hunting for Gatus, and I am sure they’ll find him sooner or later.”
“What else did you learn?” Bantor asked.
“I learned my future place in Korthac’s plans. I will be allowed to pay an additional tax of gold that will probably ruin me, and I am to continue working on the harvest. In return, my family will be permitted to keep my holdings, though I am sure Korthac will take most of my crops and livestock. I also had to swear on my knees to Korthac that I would obey his authority. For that, he will leave me alone, at least for a while.”
Hearing about Rebba’s plight prompted another thought. “What about Nicar, Rebba? And Corio? What have they agreed to?”
“Much the same, Bantor, and with as much choice as I did. Nicar did not like it, and Ariamus struck him across the mouth when he protested.
Ariamus quartered some of his bandits in Nicar’s house, to keep an eye on him.”
“We need to know more, Rebba, and you’re the only one who can get it in safety. You must learn all you can about this Korthac and his men.”
Bantor leaned across the table toward the old noble. “We’ll wait here for Eskkar to arrive. He’ll know what to do.”
Rebba sat back, digesting Bantor’s suggestion for a few moments.
“Bantor, your presence here puts me and my family in great danger. For the next two or three days, you’ll be safe enough, but after that, the risk will grow each day as Korthac takes greater control. If Eskkar does not arrive in seven or eight days, or if we hear that he is truly dead, then you must take your men and depart.”
Bantor heard the force in the old farmer’s words. Rebba spoke the truth. They couldn’t stay here forever. “If Eskkar doesn’t come, or we haven’t heard from him by then, we will leave.” In that case, Bantor decided, he’d find some way to rescue his wife, with as many men as would follow him. “Meanwhile, perhaps you can find out about Gatus.”
“I am to return to Akkad the day after tomorrow. Things should be settling down by then, and I’ll have two wagonloads of fruits and vegetables for my grandson to sell in the market. Do you have any idea of where Gatus might be hiding?”
Bantor closed his eyes and let himself think about the old soldier.
Where would the man go to hide? Ariamus knew the city well enough, so all the usual places would be well searched. A new place seemed more likely, one Ariamus wouldn’t know. Then Bantor recalled some words that Annok-sur had spoken once. Something about a friend of Gatus setting up a small alehouse with that thief of a boy, Tammuz. He remembered the look Annok-sur had given him when he asked about it. She’d looked away, and told him it meant nothing, her tone of voice telling him not to probe further. He knew his wife kept many secrets.
Perhaps it did mean nothing, but he knew all about Annok-sur’s network of spies. At least it might be a place to start looking. He made an effort to push thoughts of Annok-sur and her plight from his mind.
“An old friend of Gatus was injured during the siege,” Bantor said, picking his words with care. “He couldn’t fight any more, so after the battle, Gatus set him up in a small alehouse, along with a crippled boy who once rode with Eskkar. Maybe that is where Gatus has gone.”
“There are many houses that sell ale, Bantor. I’ll ask around, but not until the day after tomorrow. And only if Gatus isn’t discovered before then, or found dead.”
“I thank you for your efforts, Rebba. Gatus is a friend.” He hesitated, then added, “You know that Eskkar will reward you for this, when he returns.”
“I need no gold from Eskkar, Bantor.” The old noble stood up, stretching to ease the stiffness in his bones. “But I did not like the way Ariamus struck Nicar, nor did I like groveling on my knees before Korthac. I will see what I can do.”
Bantor realized his mistake. “I didn’t mean to offend you, noble. But no matter what happens, you have already earned my thanks, and that of my men.”
“Just keep them quiet and out of sight for the next seven days, Bantor.
I would like to live long enough to earn your thanks.”
19
Eskkar had scarcely noticed the passing of time, as days turned into weeks. At first the village occupied most of his time, however much responsibility he delegated to Sisuthros. The people of Bisitun, recovering from Ninazu’s terror, soon protested their rule by Akkad, no matter how reasonable or peaceful the intent. It took Eskkar more than a week to figure out why.
When the Alur Meriki threatene
d Akkad, the nobles ruling the city had selected Eskkar to save them. During the crisis, the inhabitants came to know both him and Trella as people they could trust with their lives.
More than that, they understood that neither he nor Trella valued gold, slaves, or the other trappings of noble life. In short, the villagers accepted them as people long before they accepted their rule.
In Bisitun, such trust did not come easily. Even though Eskkar and his men rescued the village from bandits, no one in Bisitun had invited them to do so, and more than a few of the villagers longed for the days when they ruled themselves. Instead, they found themselves ruled by distant Akkad, their daily lives governed by Sisuthros and his soldiers even more effectively than Ninazu and his bandits.
The villagers also knew they’d be tithing a portion of their earnings to support Akkad, and that Akkad, as the more important of the two villages, would always come first. That made for plenty of tension between villagers and soldiers. Incidents soon arose on both sides of the fine line that Eskkar trod each day.
He needed to rule them fairly and justly. There could be no accusations that Ninazu and his bandits had simply been replaced by another tyrant. So the soldiers had to be kept under control. Eskkar and Sisuthros warned each of them, time and again, not to take advantage of the inhabitants, especially their women. Eskkar reminded them that they had plenty of silver in their pouches. They could buy whatever they wished, but take only what the villagers offered freely.
But soldiers, he knew, acted much like children. They nodded in understanding at Eskkar’s words and swore to behave, then filled themselves with wine, started fights, and chased after the women.
Eskkar kept his word. He punished offending soldiers in the village square, with the elders present. He softened the punishments as much as he could. He didn’t want to alienate his men, but he could not afford to offend the villagers. So he made the punishment fit the crime as much as possible, and Eskkar soon found laughter to be as effective as manual labor or the lash.
