by Sam Barone
But tomorrow would have been different, and as captain of the guard he would have lost respect with his men if he hadn’t taken her. If she’d resisted, he would have beaten her, and she didn’t want such a beginning with him. No, better to get it over with, while she still had the gift to give to him. Much would be happening in the coming months and she’d need all her wits to stay alive, especially if the barbarians did come.
Still, he had wanted her, and the thought pleased her. Back at Nicar’s house, she’d seen it in his eyes, despite her cast — off garments and the tears sprinkling her cheeks. Trella recalled the despair that had washed over her when she first saw the tall barbarian with the grim face who now owned her.
Thus she reasoned, though occasionally the memory of her own desires questioned her logic. How strange, she admitted to herself, that when he chose not to take her, when he left the room, that was when she decided that, despite her apprehension, she wanted him to be the one. And by offering herself, rather than just letting herself be taken, she’d kept some dignity. A man must be more than an animal, and this Esk kar, barbarian or not, had shown that he possessed something more than what appeared on the surface. She might be a slave, but even a slave could share in her master’s life. His life was now hers, and Trella meant for both of them to rise in the future.
She hadn’t heard anything of what Esk kar and Nicar discussed during dinner, but she had overheard much of Nicar’s earlier talk with his wife, Creta, and later with Noble Drigo, including how Nicar’s worries about the coming barbarians had forced him to send for Esk kar. Somehow this barbarian had convinced Nicar that he could handle the village’s defense, and that accomplishment had surprised even Nicar, who had sharp wits of his own-as keen as those of her father.
The thought of her father sent a pang of sorrow through her, but she forced her mind away from the image of his body lying on the floor, blood pouring from his wounds, eyes staring sightlessly at the ceiling. He’d taught her well, too well, her mother used to say, recognizing in his daughter a mind as keen as his. Someday she hoped to avenge his death. But for now, she had no more tears to shed over her parents or her own misfortune.
This barbarian, she needed to learn all about him, as quickly as possible. He might be a strong fighter and experienced in battle, but she needed to know whether he had the wits to survive long enough even to meet the barbarians, let alone defeat them. That concerned her the most. Tomorrow she would learn much more about her new master. Everything in her future now depended on him.
Starting tonight, she belonged to a soldier, and a barbarian at that, so her status was little more than that of a camp follower or prostitute. However, if Esk kar succeeded as captain of the guard and took the lead in Orak’s defense, then his status, and hers, would be immeasurable. Though she knew even that feat might not be enough to overcome the stigma of his being both an outsider and a barbarian.
Nonetheless, if Nicar had seen something worthwhile in this man, then she must look for it also. And any place or any owner would prove better than remaining in Nicar’s house, with his disgusting son fondling her at every opportunity. A servant by day, she soon would have passed from father to son to the servants. Even life as this barbarian’s slave would be preferable to that existence.
This one’s lovemaking had surprised her. Her mother had warned her of the first night’s pain, but that had passed in one brief moment, her fear turning to surprise and pleasure. He’d treated her gently, more so than she had expected, and her own reactions to him made her twitch with embarrassment. Trella knew she’d been shameless, and she could still feel the wetness between her legs that brought back the sensations that had spun through her body faster than she could control them.
At last her thoughts slowed and she began to drift off to sleep, thinking about the man in her arms and knowing that tomorrow she would begin a new life as slave to this upstart captain of the guard. It wouldn’t be the life she had foreseen, the one she and her father had discussed often as he trained her. Instead of guiding and helping some wealthy and powerful trader, she now had to help this rough soldier turn back a barbarian invasion, a task that daunted her the more she thought about it.
She was too young for this, halfway into her fourteenth season, but she had to attempt it and hope her father’s teachings would be enough to overcome her inexperience.
Still, even Esk kar admitted that no one had ever driven off barbarians before, so perhaps her new master would listen to her advice. Trella decided she must use all she’d learned and her body as well, to keep him close. He would need her, need her more than he could know, just as Nicar had said.
And if Esk kar succeeded, then only the gods knew what the future could bring for them. There would be much work in the days ahead. Her final thought before she drifted off to sleep was that tomorrow night she would once again be in his bed and his arms, and this time there would be no fear, only pleasure.
3
The pounding on the door woke Esk kar with a start. His hand reached for the sword even as he bolted upright, confused momentarily by the unfamiliar bed and surroundings until he remembered the events of last night. The pounding increased until the door shook on its already loose hinges.
“Gods, cease that noise!” he shouted. “Who is it?”
“Gatus, Captain. Get yourself up. Nicar’s messenger is here.”
“Curse you and all the gods,” he muttered, then raised his voice. “I’m coming.” Esk kar glanced at the tiny window covered with its scrap of leather for a shade. A bright wedge of sunlight slanted onto the dirt floor.
Almost an hour after sunrise. He should’ve been up and about long ago.
Last night’s good food and better lovemaking had let him sleep deeply, and he felt wonderfully refreshed. In fact, he couldn’t remember when he’d last slept so soundly.
Esk kar arose and looked at the empty bed. Trella had vanished, her cloak missing from the peg. Run off, no doubt, after playing me for the fool. But the recollection of the night’s intimacy brought a smile to his face, and a closer look at the bed showed the small stain of blood from her virginity. Well, he had no time for the girl now.
Dressing rapidly, he opened the door, buckling on his short sword as he stepped outside, squinting against the sunlight. Gatus had gone, but two men stood waiting. Esk kar recognized the older one as one of the merchant’s trusted servants. The other, much younger, wore a short sword and must be a guard in Nicar’s pay. The older man’s face plainly showed his impatience.
“What is it?” Esk kar growled. Had Nicar decided to call the whole thing off? Or perhaps demand that his slave be returned?
The servant stepped forward, nodding in the shortest bow possible.
“Nicar sends his greetings and asks that you come to his house tomorrow at midmorning.”
The man waited a moment, then continued when Esk kar said nothing.
“I am to give you this.” He handed over a small leather pouch that jingled pleasantly as Esk kar took it.
“Tell your master that I’ll attend him at that hour.” Deciding he might as well be gracious, he added, “and I’m sorry I kept you waiting. I was up late thinking about the barbarians.”
Mollified, Nicar’s messenger bowed also, more respectfully this time.
He wished Esk kar a good morning, then headed back toward his master’s residence, his escort scrambling behind him.
Esk kar turned toward the guard, leaning on his spear. “Wipe that smile off your face or I’ll rip out your insides.” The man’s smile broadened further before it disappeared.
“And where’s the girl? Did you let her run off in the night while you slept at your post?”
The man’s smile returned. “No, Captain, she went out a little while ago to get food. She told me to let you sleep. She’ll be back shortly.”
Yes, if she wasn’t halfway across the fields. Trella had probably charmed the guard as easily as she’d beguiled him. Curse the gods, he should have told the
man to watch her. He’d be the butt of every joke in Orak, the great captain of the guard who couldn’t keep his girl slave even for one day. He kept his grim thoughts to himself as he went first to the latrine, then to the well to wash.
Walking back to his room, he saw smoke coming from the tiny opening that served as a chimney. Inside, he found Trella heating water at the fire that seemed to smoke as much as it burned. An oval of fresh bread lay on the table, scenting the air, with a solitary dark sausage on the room’s single cracked plate.
He gaped like an idiot at the sight of her and couldn’t stop himself from smiling when she turned toward him. She watched him as he sat down at the table before turning her attention back to the blackened and dented copper bowl resting amid the flames. Grasping it with a bit of rag, Trella carried it to the table and poured the warm water into the wooden cup before him.
“Good morning, master,” she said tonelessly as she set the pot on the table.
“I thought you’d run off. When I awoke and saw you gone, I thought you’d slipped away in the night.”
“And what would you do if I had run off?” she asked, her voice still empty of emotion.
“I’d have gone after you, Trella.” He reached across the table and touched her arm, enjoying the feel of her flesh as his thoughts returned to last night.
“You talk with Nicar tomorrow, as everyone knows. How could you chase after me if you were meeting with him?”
“There are more important things to me than Nicar and Orak. If you ever run from me, I’ll come after you.”
A smile appeared briefl y on her face, turning her instantly back into a young girl. She touched his hand.
“I’ll not run away, at least not today,” she said, her voice more pleasant now. “Eat your breakfast, master. You have much to do today, to prepare for your meeting tomorrow.”
“Join me then.” He broke the bread in half, then ripped the sausage in two equal pieces. She carried the pot back to the fire and returned to the table. Picking up the sausage, she took a bite, but returned most of her portion to the plate.
“You’ll have a long day and you’ll need your strength,” Trella said, indicating the meat. “Besides, it’s not fit for the slave to eat as much as the master.”
Esk kar washed down the bread with a mouthful of warm water, then pushed the meat back to her. “Eat, woman. You’ll need your own strength tonight.”
She turned red with embarrassment and looked away.
Women were a great mystery, Esk kar decided. Tearing the skin off your back in the night, then refusing to meet your gaze in the morning. He changed the subject. “How did you pay for this? Did Creta give you some coins before you left?”
“That old cow? She gave me nothing, only took the few things I owned.
No, I just asked the guard where to find food, then went to the street vendor with the best — looking wares. I told him I was Esk kar’s woman and I needed food for your breakfast. He gave me the bread and meat. I told him you would pay him later.”
“And he gave you the food?” Esk kar asked, amazement in his voice. No one in the village had ever given him credit before.
“He was eager to help.” She chewed on a piece of bread for a moment.
“Master, may I speak?”
He rapped his water cup sharply against the table. “Say what you like, Trella. I told you last night you were to be more than a servant and that I’d need your help. So speak your mind.”
“Men say things at night they forget in the morning.” She toyed with the scraps of bread in front of her.
“As women say things to get what they desire. What is it you want, girl?
Do you want to leave? Or go back to Nicar? I’ll not stop you if that’s what you wish. So speak your mind and be done with it.”
She touched his hand again, then met his eyes for the first time. “Eskkar, I’m just a girl. No, not even that, a slave. But last night, after you fell asleep, I thought long about what I want.”
She took her hand away. “My father is dead, my family is gone, either dead or sold, and I’ll never see any of them again. So, last night I decided that I want to stay and help you. Help you succeed against the barbarians.
Because if you do, then you can have the wealth and power to establish your own House. That’s what I want now, to be part of your family. And so I’ll help you in any way I can.”
For a few moments, he just looked at her. “Last night, in the darkness, I began to doubt if I could truly defend the village from the barbarians.
This morning it seems even more impossible.”
“I can help you, Esk kar.” She leaned across the table. “I’m sure I can help. That’s why Nicar gave me to you. But you must tell me everything, all your thoughts, all your plans, everything.”
He stared at his plate while he considered her request. He’d never made any friends in Orak, certainly no man he trusted enough to confide his doubts. As for Gatus and the rest, they had little to offer. Esk kar had no doubt that he knew more about what needed to be done than they did.
He could talk to Nicar, but Esk kar didn’t want to approach Orak’s ruler so soon with his own misgivings. No, Esk kar had no one he could confi de in. Nicar said she would be useful, so he might as well talk to her as anyone else, though he doubted how much she could help. Still, he had little to lose by talking to her.
Nevertheless, he hesitated. She’d come from Nicar’s house. Perhaps what Esk kar told her would find its way back to her former master. Even if Nicar trusted his new captain of the guard, the noble might still wish to know Esk kar’s private thoughts. But she’d been given to him, not loaned, and the hatred between the girl and Creta seemed real enough.
“Master, whatever you tell me, I’ll repeat to no one.”
Her words made him wonder if she could read his mind. He more than half — believed she’d cast a spell upon him last night. In the end, the look in her eyes convinced him, a gaze so intent that it seemed to pierce his thoughts, as she leaned forward across the table, waiting for him to make up his mind.
“I’ll tell you what I know, Trella,” he began, “though I don’t see how you can help.”
“It may be I can do more than you know. Since I was a child, I’ve been trained in many things. My father was a noble and taught me to understand their ways. I sat at his feet as he worked and I listened to him advise the leader of our village. And I learned many things in Nicar’s house.
Because I could read the symbols and count, I worked with Nicar and his stewards nearly every day. I heard them speak about Orak, about Noble Drigo, and the other nobles.”
He wanted to believe her. More than that, he wanted to trust her. Even if she repeated his words to Nicar, what did it matter? Esk kar had the gold and the slave, and enough of the soldiers would follow him if he decided to leave. No one would try to stop him. What did he have to lose?
“Very well. Where should I start?”
They spoke for nearly two hours. Esk kar described building a wall, explained about using the bow to keep the attackers at arm’s length, about flooding the lands around the village. He told her how he would train the men, what arms he would need, what forces he hoped to muster, and what the coming months would bring.
She asked about the barbarians, and he described them, why they fought, and their tactics. He pointed out every detail of the coming struggle as best he could, answering her questions and endless requests for details.
When he’d finished, she leaned across the table and took his hand in both of hers. “Thank you, master. But you talk only of the fighting, of the men and the wall. You don’t tell me what you fear, what you worry about, what concerns you the most. Please, master, tell me about those things.”
Esk kar stroked her hands. They felt as warm and exciting as they had last night. The girl had surely cast a spell on him, but it didn’t matter anymore. “All right, Trella. I worry about the nobles. I don’t know how to deal with them. They’re quicker in the
ir wits and easy with their words. Nicar is a good man, but I don’t fully trust him. He only sent for me because he had no one else. The rest of the nobles are worse. And Drigo-last night Drigo looked at me in the street, and I saw the laughter in his eyes. He mocked me without speaking a word, and I could do nothing.”
The memory stirred him to anger, and he tightened his grip on her hand just for a moment. “I’m not afraid of Drigo, but he has power and men who obey his will. I could kill any one of them easily enough, but even a small pack of wolves can bring down one man.” He took a deep breath. “But most of all, I fear looking foolish in their eyes and in front of others.”
Never in his life had Esk kar admitted fear to anyone, let alone a slave girl. Now that the words had been spoken, they couldn’t be called back. He decided to go on. “And it’s the same with the merchants. I don’t know how to ask for bows, or swords, or any of the other things I’ll need, let alone how many, or when I’ll want them. Even with Nicar’s help, I wonder if I’ll be able to get what I need.”
He’d voiced his doubts and fears. But instead of shame at admitting his weakness, Esk kar felt a feeling of relief.
Trella’s hand gripped his with surprising strength. “Master, you worry about these things because you don’t know these men. I’ve lived with such people all my life. They’re nothing to be afraid of. As you’ve spent your life fighting, they’ve spent their lives talking and counting and bargaining. But with the barbarians coming, the time for talk is past. Now they will both fear and need you, because they know only fighting men can save them and their gold. May I tell you what I think will happen?”
That the nobles might fear him seemed odd at first. “Go on, Trella.”
She told him how she thought the Five Families would react, what the men of power would likely do and say, and how their arrogant need to dominate everyone and everything might overcome even their fear of the barbarians. She told him of Nicar’s doubts and concerns, especially his worries about the other noble families, particularly Noble Drigo.
