Empire Rising es-2

by Sam Barone

  Hathor looked up when he entered, but said nothing.

  “Do you know who I am?”

  “You are Lord Eskkar. I saw you yesterday when I was brought here.”

  The man spoke with a strong accent, but Eskkar had no difficulty understanding his words.

  “Are you ready to die, Hathor?”

  “As ready as any man, lord.” He pushed himself up a little straighter against the wall. “I would have killed myself rather than been captured, but your men took me before I could fall on my sword.”

  Eskkar grunted at that news. So this all could have been avoided if Bantor’s men hadn’t been so efficient. He stared at Hathor. Despite the Egyptian’s strong words, Eskkar saw the trembling in his hands that betrayed his fear. No man wants to die alone, surrounded by enemies and strangers. A warrior expected to die in battle, often looked forward to it; better to end that way than a lingering death from illness or old age, alone, perhaps begging in the streets.

  Another long-forgotten memory returned, of a time many years ago when Eskkar had sat bound and bloody against a cave wall, death pricking the skin at his throat, afraid, yet too proud to beg for his life, while a group of women decided his fate. Women had spared him then, and now women wanted him to spare this man. Perhaps Eskkar owed the gods a debt, one that must be repaid. Ishtar, the earth goddess, was a woman, after all.

  “Guard, get some water for the prisoner.” Eskkar used the time to think.

  The guard returned with a skin filled with water. Eskkar took it from his hands, cursing at the old memories; he should feel hate for the Egyptian, not pity. He handed the skin to the surprised Hathor and let him drink his fill, much of the water dribbling down his chest as the man held the skin clumsily with his bound hands.

  Eskkar turned to the guard, still standing in the doorway. “Bring him to the workroom. And wash the blood from his hands and face first.”

  Ignoring the soldier’s surprised look, Eskkar returned to the upper rooms. He sat down at the big table and waited. Annok-sur summoned Drusala to watch the baby; the midwife closed the door to the inner room after Trella and En-hedu joined Eskkar in the workroom. The two women guided Trella to the seat beside her husband, then stood behind her.

  It took two men to bring Hathor up the stairs, and by the time he stood in front of Eskkar, a sheen of perspiration covered his face. At least they’d cleaned most of the blood off.

  “Put him on the stool,” Eskkar ordered, “then leave us.”

  “Lord, one of us should stay, in case…”

  “I’ll watch him myself,” Eskkar cut the man off. He stood up and moved to the other side of the table, then sat on the corner, between Hathor and the women, fingering the knife on his belt.

  Trella waited until the guards had left, closing the door behind them.

  “Do you remember me?” Her voice once again held the power of command, no matter how weak she might feel.

  Hathor nodded, his eyes darting from husband to wife.

  “Tell me of Korthac,” Trella said. “Tell me what he did in Egypt.”

  The question caught Hathor by surprise. “Why do you wish… to know about Korthac?”

  “It cannot matter now to answer my questions.” Trella kept her voice even, a polite request to a guest.

  Eskkar said nothing, just stared at the man. If Hathor refused to speak, he would go to the marketplace and suffer with his leader.

  Hathor dropped his eyes. “It matters not, I suppose… Lady Trella.”

  So the Egyptian wasn’t a complete fool, Eskkar thought.

  Hathor’s story came out haltingly. The years spent pillaging the land, gathering forces, two mighty armies battling to control the land of Egypt.

  The conquests, the battles, the villages taken and burned, the lands devastated, the final conflict that saw Korthac defeated and driven into the desert with the last of his men, all of them lucky to escape with their lives.

  To his surprise, Eskkar found himself listening with interest. When the man ended his tale, Eskkar had a question of his own. “Tell me about the battle here in Akkad.”

  Hathor made a noise that might have been a laugh. “You were too clever for Korthac. He knew you didn’t have enough men. He never thought you would divide what little you had to slip inside and raise the city. Or that Akkad would rise up, even for you.”

  “My men didn’t think much of the idea at the time,” Eskkar said, remembering the arguments at Rebba’s farmhouse.

  “Your men follow where you lead, Lord Eskkar. I see that they don’t fear you, the way we all feared Korthac. You speak to them as an equal. You must be a great warrior to hold so much loyalty.”

  Eskkar stared at the man, not sure what to make of the words of praise. “Go on, Hathor. Tell me of the battle.”

  The Egyptian began again, relating how they’d been surprised at the strike here at the house, how they hadn’t expected Eskkar to arrive so soon, and the confusion that broke out among them, even the hatred Takany felt for Ariamus. Hathor spoke for some time, but then his voice gave out. He tried to continue, but Eskkar held up his hand.

  “Enough for now.” Then he leaned closer to the helpless man. “Would you like to live, Hathor?”

  “As a slave? No, better to die and get it over with.”

  “You might change your mind when the torture begins. But I meant something else. My wife has asked me to spare your life.”

  A look of shock came over the Egyptian’s face.

  “And this girl, En-hedu, pleaded with Trella. Do you know En-hedu?”

  “Yes, I know her. The seller of trinkets outside Korthac’s house.” His eyes widened in comprehension. “Was she one of Trella’s… Lady Trella’s spies?”

  “Why did you spare her life? And the boy’s?”

  “She was ready to die to protect her man. I thought… She’d spoken kindly to me often enough.” He shrugged, lifting his bound hands. “I thought there’d been enough killing of women and helpless men. Whether we won or lost, their deaths wouldn’t have mattered.”

  “Yes, there’s been enough of killing,” Eskkar agreed. “Now there must be a time of building. The land must be freed of bandits, and the people protected from the clans of the steppes people. I need men who can help me build, Hathor, as well as fight my enemies. Loyal men.”

  Hathor stared not at Eskkar, but at En-hedu, unable to speak.

  “Or, when you’ve recovered from your wound,” Trella said, “we can give you a horse and let you depart. You can even return to Egypt. The choice is yours.”

  “You would give me my life?”

  Eskkar nodded. “A life for a life. Yours for En-hedu and Tammuz’s.

  You did no hurt to Trella, and no one has come forth to accuse you of murder or rape. If you had… it might be different.”

  “I have nothing to return to in Egypt.” He lifted his eyes to Eskkar, then to Trella. “The vow I swore to Korthac ends with his death. If you will accept my oath, I will serve you faithfully, lord. I swear it.”

  The Egyptian meant his words, Eskkar decided. He looked at Trella, who nodded. Taking his knife from his belt, Eskkar cut the knot from Hathor’s bonds.

  “I’ll take him downstairs, Lord Eskkar,” Annok-sur said, putting her arm around his shoulders. “And summon the healer for his wounds.”

  A knock on the door sounded, and Gatus pushed his way into the room. “I’ve got three of the men denounced by Corio,” Gatus said. “The others…” His eyes widened in surprise at the prisoner.

  “Ah, Gatus, it’s good that you’ve returned,” Eskkar interrupted, enjoying the look of confusion on the old soldier’s face as he stared at Hathor, his hands untied, leaning on Annok-sur for support. “I’ve something to tell you.”

  Epilogue

  Nine days later, Yavtar once again guided his boat toward the dock at Akkad, though this time he arrived just after midday instead of the dead of night. He captained a different ship as well, a fine vessel newly purchased, and one of
the largest that plied the river. It boasted a bright white sail twice as tall as a man, a long steering oar extending from the stern, and carried a crew of two men and a boy to work the ship. Today Yavtar’s cargo differed as well; instead of grim fighting men and their weapons, he carried passengers and trade goods.

  Only a single berthing place stood empty at Akkad’s dock, and another boat, this one coming upriver, also wanted to land. Yavtar’s curses echoed across the rapidly diminishing gap between the two ships, as both captains sought to secure the berth. The two craft nearly collided before the other vessel’s captain yielded, as much to Yavtar’s bellowing as to the Hawk Clan banner flying from the masthead.

  The wet oars flashed in the bubbling current as they caught the sunlight, struggling against the river’s force as the boat crept closer to the shore. With one last frantic pull of the oars, Yavtar’s boat slid into the berth, its journey ended.

  Yavtar grunted in satisfaction when his new ship bumped against the jetty, safe at last from the river’s motion. One crewman leaped nimbly onto the wharf and fastened the holding ropes fore and aft to the well-worn stanchions. The other crewmen stowed the sail around the mast, clearing the way to unload passengers and cargo.

  His latest voyage completed successfully, Yavtar intended to get decently drunk for a few days while he enjoyed the spoils of war. The great battle to liberate Akkad had proved lucrative to the old sailor. He alone of Eskkar’s force had entered Akkad with a well-filled sack of gold, payment received in advance for the use of his ships and for transporting the soldiers. The day after the battle, while most of the soldiers fi lled the alehouses and rejoiced at their victory, Yavtar had visited the countryside, and used his new riches to buy a good-sized farm a few miles outside the city. He then traded one of his two ships, plus a stash of gold and silver coins he’d managed to loot unnoticed from a dead Egyptian in the tower, for the proud craft he now commanded. If nothing else, this war had made Yavtar a wealthy man.

  “Safe and sound, a smooth voyage just as I promised,” Yavtar said, his voice brimming with pride.

  “So you did, master boatman,” Alexar agreed, standing in the prow of the craft and trying to stay out of the crew’s way. “But I’d rather travel by horseback any day, or even walk.”

  “The more fool you, then,” Yavtar said, his smile softening his words.

  “I’ll see you tonight at Zenobia’s. You can pay for the wine, too.” He leapt lightly to the dock, and searched for the dockmaster to declare his cargo and complete his business. The crowded dockside bustled with afternoon trading traffic, busier than usual since Korthac’s attempted coup. Yavtar had purchased two dozen sacks of grain while in Bisitun, and he expected to sell them for a good profit, an extra bonus to supplement the generous fee Lord Eskkar offered for the boat’s hire.

  Alexar, shaking his head, watched Yavtar disappear into the throng of activity. For a moment he ignored the crowd of idlers enjoying the spectacle of the river and the men working it, and stared at the city wall and gate. From here, no sign of the recent confl ict remained. Already the fighting seemed something from long ago.

  Alexar had dwelled in Akkad for the last two years, laboring at any task he could find, and more often than not, going to bed hungry. When the Alur Meriki swept toward the city, he joined Eskkar’s soldiers, as much to secure a steady source of food as to fi ght against the barbarians. To his surprise, Alexar found that soldiering agreed with him; he trained hard and listened to his instructors. In little more than six months, he’d risen from recruit to soldier to leader of ten, and now to the lofty position of commander, one of those reporting directly to Lord Eskkar and a member of the elite Hawk Clan.

  Like many of his Hawk Clan brothers, Alexar had wandered through many lands before he settled in Akkad. Now he thought of the city as his home and knew he would never leave its crowded and noisy lanes, always bustling with activity and purpose. Unlike most of the other villages he’d seen, dreary places where most people struggled even to survive, here in Akkad a man could improve his life, plan for the future, and perhaps leave something of himself behind someday. Whatever the coming years might bring, he would follow Eskkar’s path, no matter where it led.

  For now, however, Alexar followed Yavtar’s example. He, too, jumped onto the jetty, grateful to feel something solid underfoot, then looked down into the boat to inspect those entrusted to his care.

  “Up you go, then,” a crewman said as he guided Lani up onto the narrow plank pushed into place by the ship’s boy and connecting the boat with the shore.

  Alexar extended his hand and took Lani’s as she stepped cautiously onto the shifting gangplank.

  “Thank you,” Lani said, when she reached the safety of dockside.

  Alexar repeated the process for Tippu, who gazed nervously at the rau-cous villagers. After both women disembarked, he relaxed for the fi rst time since leaving Bisitun with his charges, grateful that the voyage had ended.

  Alexar’s first assignment after his promotion to commander took him to Bisitun. Eskkar had asked him to escort Lani and her sister to Akkad, as soon as a suitable vessel could be found. The easy errand gave Alexar the chance to rest for a few days. He knew his new duties in Akkad would soon occupy all his time. Eskkar had an army to rebuild and a city to defend, and Alexar knew much would be expected of him.

  The two soldiers who’d accompanied him upriver followed the two women ashore, each soldier carrying a large cloth sack that contained the women’s belongings in addition to their own weapons. The ever-helpful crewman leaned over the boat’s side and handed up the last piece of cargo to Alexar: a good-sized cage containing a miserable-looking cat that hissed at its latest indignity. With a prayer of thanks to the river gods for his safe deliverance, Alexar led the little cavalcade off the jetty.

  The trip downriver from Bisitun had gone without incident, but it had still taken three days, and Alexar felt anxious to deliver his charges to Eskkar’s house, and start his new duties.

  After he finished his commission, Alexar, too, intended to spend the rest of the day and evening drinking wine at Zenobia’s Pleasure House.

  For the first time in his life, he had enough gold in his pouch to pay for the exotic services Zenobia’s girls provided. Zenobia had just opened her business when Korthac seized the city, and his Egyptians had commandeered the establishment for their own gratification. Takany, one of Korthac’s commanders, had forced Zenobia to service him, before taking most of the other girls. Alexar found the Egyptian second in command dead in Eskkar’s courtyard, one of Mitrac’s arrows in his belly.

  Despite all the chaos, Zenobia had somehow reopened her pleasure house for business the day after Eskkar’s return, after gathering her girls and spending a whole day cleaning her establishment of its “Egyptian stink.” That was the same day the council put Korthac and the other traitors to the torture, and Alexar had commanded the soldiers who guarded the Egyptian. Zenobia, accompanied by three of her girls, had joined the chorus of those denouncing Korthac, though she and her girls would have preferred torturing Takany. One of the girls, a brown-haired beauty named Malika, winked enticingly at the newly promoted Alexar, so that evening he visited Zenobia’s for the first time. Malika kept him awake most of the night, and in the morning he’d barely reached the dock before Yavtar sailed, his pouch considerably lighter after enjoying the good food, fi ne wine, and Malika’s pleasant and energetic company.

  Thinking of Malika made him quicken his steps. The sooner he delivered his passengers, the sooner he could avail himself of her services.

  On the riverbank, an old woman sat in the shade of the wall and watched the passengers disembark. For two days, Uvela had waited there, observing boats come and go, an agreeable enough assignment from Lady Trella. Uvela’s daughter, Shubure, stopped by occasionally to keep her company. Uvela was proud of Shubure, the very first person in Akkad to acknowledge Trella as the head of Eskkar’s household. Shubure, now pregnant and married to a prosperous shopk
eeper, still worked in secret for Lady Trella, gathering information.

  Uvela had never met the two women who walked together, holding hands and glancing around in fascination at all the activity. Nevertheless, she recognized the Hawk Clan emblem on Alexar’s shoulder, and knew these must be the passengers Lady Trella sought. Before Alexar and his charges reached the gate, Uvela stood in his path.

  “Good day, Commander Alexar,” she said with a bow, her voice qua-vering a little. A scarf struggled to contain the long gray hair that flowed around her head, but her lively eyes more than made up for a weak voice.

  “My name is Uvela. Are these the women from Bisitun summoned by Lord Eskkar?”

  “Yes, elder,” Alexar replied politely, surprised that anyone at the dock would know his business. “Why do you ask?”

  “A place has been prepared for them by Lady Trella. I am to take you there.”

  Alexar looked more closely at the woman. He’d never seen her before, but guessed she must be one of the many women working for Lady Trella.

  “Then we’ll follow you, elder,” Alexar said, giving her a nod. He trailed Uvela away from the docks, through the rear gate and into the city of Akkad, the women and soldiers following behind.

  They wound their way through the narrow lanes, passing the barracks area before moving into the better quarter of the city, toward Eskkar’s house. As they drew closer, Alexar thought Uvela intended to take them to Eskkar’s home. But a few doors away, the old woman turned left instead of right, and passed into a walled courtyard.

  A bored young soldier stood guard a step inside the narrow gate. He smiled at Uvela, then straightened up and greeted Alexar respectfully when he recognized him. They entered a private garden scented with jasmine, and scarcely big enough to hold all six of them. Despite the diminu-tive garden, Alexar knew this must be one of the better houses in the city.

  He didn’t see a private well, but that minor inconvenience didn’t detract from the house. In this part of Akkad, with living quarters scarce and expensive, his charges would enjoy pleasant surroundings.