by Sam Barone
“Remember, no matter what happens with the barbarians, the nobles will never fully trust you or accept you. You’re not their kind.”
Esk kar thought back to last night, when he’d casually assumed that Nicar and the other nobles would welcome him into their circle. How childish that must have sounded to Nicar.
“I thought that they’d be grateful if I saved their village. But you’re right. They will always think of me as a barbarian.”
“They are what they are, master. And none of them likes to share power, especially with a stranger, not even Nicar. He may be good to you now when he needs you, but later he will take his authority back.”
“And what about you, Trella? You don’t mind belonging to a barbarian?”
“You are not a barbarian, master. You treat even a slave girl with respect. I saw that and more last night. And I’m a stranger here, too. Perhaps the gods sent us to each other.” Her last words came with a brief smile that disappeared quickly. “Now, can we talk about your meeting with the nobles tomorrow? You should prepare yourself to meet with the Families.”
With growing confi dence, she talked about what questions might arise at Nicar’s meeting and how he should respond. Her ideas surprised him, though once she explained, he saw how likely they were to come up. Eskkar realized his offer to defend Orak was even more complicated than he’d thought.
“Last night, you said that you came from…?”
“Carnax. It’s a large village, close to the Great Sea, in Sumeria.”
“You said your father was advisor to the village’s ruler. I doubted you then, but now I see that you spoke the truth. You think like a noble. You understand power and how it can be used.”
“Yes, master. My father trained me differently than the other girls. He taught me the nobles’ ways, and instructed me in the mysteries of gold, the farm, and many other subjects.”
“You must teach me all these secrets.” He smiled. “If it is not too late to learn them.”
“In time, you will learn them all. Now we should go over your preparations once more.”
She led him through several situations that might arise, what he should say, and how he should deal with each. The more they spoke, the more his trust increased. And of all the things they discussed, they talked longest about Noble Drigo.
Trella’s thoughts about Drigo startled Esk kar. She believed Drigo presented the biggest problem and the greatest danger. She’d learned much in Nicar’s house about Drigo and his plans, and her words sent a chill through him. He hadn’t realized the immediate threat Drigo represented.
Slowly his resolve hardened. Nothing, he decided, nothing and no one would push him aside again, not in the street, not in Nicar’s house. He would be captain of the guard and even Drigo would acknowledge him.
When they finished speaking, their hands joined again across the table.
He looked at her differently now, seeing someone with fire in her heart and bronze in her thoughts. Esk kar knew he’d found a woman worth more than a fistful of gold coins. With her beside him, he felt he could accomplish anything, dare the Five Families, and even defeat the horde of barbarians.
“You give me strength, Trella,” he said simply. “Stay at my side.”
Her grip tightened on his hand, and again her strength surprised him.
“You have the power now, Esk kar, but you must learn to use it, and quickly, or it will slip away. You must act as if you have always had it.
When you speak, speak with authority and certainty. If you’re not sure what to say, say nothing, just look confident. The crowd will follow if you lead them. I saw that last night, and again in the streets this morning. Even the soldiers looked to you for direction.
“And don’t be in awe of any man from now on, Esk kar, not even any of the Five Families. They’re just merchants, and they’re all frightened. Only you seem not to be afraid, and that is your power. Don’t hesitate to show that power. Starting today everyone will look to you, searching for weakness or doubt. If you have any, conceal it. If any oppose you, push them aside-kill them if you have to. No one will question you. In times of trouble, people look to strong leaders, not merchants and tradesmen, no matter how much wealth they have. Tomorrow you must take the power, or not at all.”
The hard words no longer surprised him, not even her casual reference to killing. The nobles thought that way, careless of lives other than their own. He’d stopped thinking of her as an inexperienced young girl, a slave, or even a woman whose ideas didn’t matter. She’d become a window into the lives of the nobles, perceiving their plots and plans, and offering herself as a partner to his own ventures.
But Trella’s strength of will did surprise him. Some women could be stronger than their men, though the idea made him a little uncomfortable.
Such women often eclipsed a man in reading people’s thoughts and faces.
Trella had all those qualities, the toughness of a man in the body of a young woman.
A thought crossed his mind. He reached into his tunic and brought out Nicar’s leather pouch. He hadn’t even looked inside, but he opened it now and dumped the contents on the table. Counting slowly, he found twenty gold coins. He knew Ariamus had gotten only ten each month. For a moment Esk kar played with the small golden squares, touching them, enjoying the feel of the cool metal and the power it represented. Many men worshipped gold, he knew, schemed and plotted to obtain it, then caressed it at night behind locked doors before burying it deep in the ground.
Looking up, he found Trella observing him, not the gold. Abruptly, Esk kar pushed two coins across the table. “Take these and change them for copper, then pay the street vendor for the food. I’ll not owe any man for my bread. Make sure you’re not cheated in the exchange. Use the rest to buy a decent dress for yourself and anything else you need. And buy new sandals for me, the sturdiest you can find, the kind a man can fight in.”
Esk kar pushed the rest of the coins toward her, trying not to think he was trusting her with what until today he would have considered a small fortune. “Keep the rest of the gold safe for me. There will be more things to buy in the coming weeks.”
He put his finger on one coin, the brightest and shiniest of the lot, then picked it up and held it to the light. “This one is a gift for you. One gold coin is enough to buy a good female slave. If you ever desire to leave me, give me this coin, and you can have your freedom.”
A look of confusion covered her face, and Esk kar sat back and laughed. “It will save me the time and trouble of chasing after you. Otherwise, for now and between us, let there be no more talk of master and slave.” He put the coin in the palm of her hand and closed her fingers lightly over it.
Trella opened her hand and looked at the gold glittering brightly on her palm. “May I have your sword?” she said quietly.
Surprised, he hesitated, then drew the sword from its scabbard, reversed it and handed it to her.
She stood up, put the coin near the edge of the table, and placed the middle of the blade, where the edge was sharpest, against the coin. Using both hands, she leaned on it with all her strength, the muscles straining in her tanned arms.
When she lifted the blade, the coin was nocked down its middle by a thin crease. She handed him back the sword, then gathered the rest of the coins and put them in the pouch. “Now it is marked, and I’ll keep it safe.”
She put the pouch around her neck, then tucked it inside her dress. “You should get ready for your meeting with the men. It’s nearly noon.”
Esk kar stood, glancing at the window and seeing the sun race ever higher into the sky. “I have time for this, Trella.” He pulled her to him, kissing her hungrily, feeling an unaccustomed thrill of pleasure when she stood on her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck, her body pressing against him. He would have thrown her across the bed and taken her right then, Orak and Nicar be damned, if she hadn’t pushed herself away, face averted, and gone outside.
Esk kar picked up the l
ast scrap of bread and followed her out the door.
The guard still held his post, watching Trella as she walked away. “Watch your eyes, dog,” Esk kar snapped, “if you know what’s good for you.”
He grabbed the startled man’s spear and pulled it from his hand. “Follow after her and stay at her side. At her side, you hear me? Make sure she comes to no harm and that everyone knows she’s Esk kar’s woman. If any man bothers her, slit his throat. Now, go!”
He shoved the man on his way, making him stumble as he hurried to catch up. Esk kar twirled the heavy spear easily in his hand a few times, then turned and hurled it with all his strength at the side of the house.
Fragments sprang from the mud wall as the heavy spear buried itself in the structure. Esk kar grunted in satisfaction, before he went off in the other direction, looking for Gatus. Time to prepare for tomorrow’s meeting with Nicar.
This time Trella paid more attention to her surroundings. The soldiers hanging around the barracks stopped whatever occupied them and turned to stare at her as she walked by. Some called her by name, while others made rude remarks about her first night with Esk kar. At first the words and bold looks made her uneasy, but then she realized they all knew who she was, that their words were spoken in rough jest, and that there was little chance of any of them hurting her.
When she passed into the street, she realized one of the soldiers had followed, walking a few steps behind. Turning, she recognized the sentry who’d guarded Esk kar’s room this morning.
“Captain Esk kar told me to escort you around the village, Trella, to protect you, in case anyone should not know who you are.”
She didn’t know what to say, and briefly wondered if Esk kar had ordered him to ensure that she didn’t run off. But the man’s simple expression couldn’t conceal any guile. And she remembered the touch of Eskkar’s hands only moments ago. “Thank you, soldier. What is your name?”
“I’m called Adad, Trella.”
“Well, Adad, can you tell me where I can find a merchant who sells good clothing? I need to buy some things for my master.”
He directed her as they walked, slipping through the stream of people who walked Orak’s narrow dirt lanes, a noisy mixture of men, women, children, and animals. She saw that most of the mud — brick houses had a single story. But the homes and shops of the better — off merchants usually had a stall or table in front to display some wares. Images painted on the wall identified the type of establishment or what goods could be had.
Though she had lived in Orak for almost two months, she’d rarely been allowed outside Nicar’s courtyard, and then only to accompany Creta or one of the senior servants. Now she looked closely at the people and stalls that lined the streets. At each stall a merchant, his wife, or an older child tended the merchandise, both to deter petty thieves and to encourage those looking to buy. Orak seemed much like her former village, only much bigger and with more fine houses.
She would have liked to take her time and explore, but she wanted to get back to Esk kar. So she hurried until she reached the shop Adad had suggested.
Entering the low doorway of the merchant Rimush, she found two other women ahead of her. The older dressed like the wife of a well — off tradesman. Her younger companion looked to be a servant or slave, in more humble clothing. The large room, illuminated only by the sunlight coming through the door and a small hole cut in the ceiling, held several rough — cut tables and shelves, all covered with clothing or lengths of wool and linen. The intense smell of the fresh linen tingled her nose. Goods were stacked on the floor as well, covering nearly every open space, and Trella had to be careful where she stepped. A colorful blanket curtained off another room at the rear.
The women and shop owner gave her a quick glance, then ignored the poorly dressed slave. Ignored her, until Adad followed her inside, looked around, then leaned in the doorway. The sight of the armed soldier accompanying Trella stopped all conversation, and now Rimush turned to her, taking only a moment to guess who she was.
“You’re the new slave of the soldier Esk kar?” Rimush spoke rapidly, his curiosity plain. Esk kar and his new status were the main topic of conversation everywhere in Orak since sunrise.
Although not particularly tall, Trella knew how to stand properly and how to deal with merchants, so she drew herself up before answering.
“My master is Esk kar, captain of the guard. He wishes me to purchase sandals and a tunic for him. Do you have such items, or should I seek elsewhere?” She kept her head high, her voice low but firm. The merchant would recognize the tone of one accustomed to dealing with shopkeepers and servants.
The older woman seemed annoyed at the interruption. “When I’m finished, slave, you may buy whatever it is you can afford.”
“I’ll look elsewhere, then,” Trella said calmly and turned to go.
“No, wait, girl,” Rimush called hastily after her. “I have what you need here.” He turned to his other customer. “I will return to you when I have finished with… what is your name, girl?”
“Trella.” She watched in amusement as Rimush ignored the tradesman’s wife to go to the darkest corner of the shop, returning in a moment with a pair of sandals. While he went to fetch some tunics, Trella inspected the sandals, then called to him. “These sandals are not strong enough, Rimush.
I want the finest, strongest pair you have, sturdy enough to fight in.”
Muttering under his breath, he returned in an instant, handing her another pair of sandals he’d picked up without stopping, then went again to the back room. His other customer, angered at Rimush’s treatment, banged down the cloth she’d been inspecting and left the shop. Her companion gave Trella a broad smile as she passed, trailing behind her mistress.
Trella inspected the sandals, then rapped one sharply on the counter.
Next she twisted it with both hands, to make sure nothing shifted. “These are of fair quality,” she commented as Rimush returned, carrying half a dozen tunics. “I’ll take them, upon my master’s approval, of course.”
“There are no better sandals in Orak. Your master will be pleased.” He pushed a bolt of cloth out of the way with his elbow, then put the tunics down on a narrow table, fanning them out. “Your master is tall and has broad shoulders. Not many carry tunics of his size.”
“You know my master, then?”
“No, he has never come here. But I know who he is.”
Trella ignored the first four garments, soft, decorated tunics for rich merchants or nobles. The one she selected looked more fitting to a captain of the guard, well made but unadorned except for a red stripe around the simple square collar. She wet her finger and rubbed the stripe to make sure the dye stayed true, then reversed the garment to check the stitching and the seams, tugging on the half sleeve to make sure it held fast.
“This one will do,” she announced. “Also, I need a dress for myself, something simple. Have you anything for me?”
This required the assistance of Rimush’s wife, who had come out from the back of the house to stare at the captain of the guard’s new slave. She helped Trella make her selection, then escorted her into the back of the house where she could try it on. “You look very pretty in it, Trella, like a fine lady,” she added, admiring the way the dress fit. “Are you sure you don’t want a newer one, or something of finer quality?”
Trella smiled at the compliment. “This is good enough. Now I must be on my way.” She took the new garment off and put her old one back on.
The haggling over prices went faster than Trella had expected. Five silver coins for the expensive sandals, four for the tunic, and two for the dress. The price seemed reasonable enough, but she countered with an offer of eight coins for everything. Rimush complained about being robbed, but eventually accepted a price of ten silver coins when Trella tossed everything on the counter and prepared to leave.
Rimush looked surprised when she handed him a gold coin. Gold was scarce and slaves not often trusted with suc
h coins. He took the coin, pinching it hard with his fingernail to make sure it was real and noting Nicar’s mark on it before he gave her ten silver coins in change.
Trella smiled as she watched him. Rimush would spread the word that Esk kar had access to Nicar’s gold. Gathering up her goods, she thanked him and his wife.
“No, Trella, our thanks to your master. The gods protect him, and may he save us from the barbarians. And from Noble Drigo as well. I’m too old to start over in another place.”
“Noble Drigo?”
“Yes, Noble Drigo.” Rimush spat the words out. “His bullies take what they like and pay as little as they can, if they pay at all. They say Drigo will take charge of Orak soon.”
“Nicar won’t allow that,” Trella answered. “Nor will my master. He will protect you, Rimush,” she told him confidently. “He’ll protect all of us.”
Outside in the street, Adad waited patiently for his charge. They walked back toward the barracks, the soldier two steps behind her, stopping once for Trella to purchase a good quality comb to manage her hair, her own having more broken teeth than good ones, then again to buy a small oil lamp.
As she walked and shopped, however, Trella noticed that everyone was staring at her. No one had ever seen a soldier assigned to protect a slave before. She’d have received quite a bit of attention for that reason alone.
But they all knew her status as Esk kar’s slave, the man who claimed he could defend Orak against the barbarians. That made her someone of importance.
A few people asked what she knew about the barbarians or about Eskkar’s plans. She smiled at anyone who spoke to her but said nothing. Fear of the barbarians showed in their faces, so worried that they looked even to her for some sign of hope.
The walk through Orak’s streets gave her much to think about. She’d seen the villagers’ apprehension, the anxiety she had warned Esk kar about, and that meant anything could happen in the next few days, for good or evil. Trella pushed the thought from her mind. She had more than enough to worry about in the next few hours.
