by Sam Barone
“Chief Esk kar,” Mesilim began formally, his voice loud and clear in the night. “I’ve met with the elders of the clan. We’ve agreed to join you in your fight and help you defeat the Alur Meriki. Tomorrow we will begin our preparations.”
Mesilim extended his arm, and Esk kar clasped his hand around the chieftain’s forearm. They had sealed the bargain publicly and according to custom. Now their fates intertwined, at least for the next battle.
“I must go and tell the rest of my warriors.” Mesilim turned away and returned to his own campfire.
Shouts of joy mixed with battle cries greeted the news, as Mesilim’s men learned they had both a chance to live and an opportunity to regain some of what they’d lost.
The Shan Kar will be satisfied, Esk kar thought later, as he settled in for sleep, wishing he had some wine to numb the pain that throbbed in his thigh. I’ve gained an ally not only for the battle across the river, but perhaps for the future, should I need to keep the villagers in check. And Sisuthros will be loyal, at least for now. Trella will be pleased, he thought, and he drifted off to sleep with her face in his dreams.
Ten days later just before sunset, Esk kar and his weary band of riders topped the last hill and saw the village of Orak. After spending three days resting with the Ur Nammu, they had all ridden hard in a northerly circle to throw any pursuers off their trail. Then the two groups had split up, with the Ur Nammu turning toward the mountains.
The well — rested Ur Nammu clan would travel quickly and leave a plain trail, like men who had enough of hard fighting and only wanted to escape. They would ride far to the east, wait a week or ten days, then return to monitor the progress of the Alur Meriki. With luck, they’d slip back through the lines before the barbarians closed them tight around Orak.
Meanwhile Esk kar and his band headed back to the west, riding as hard as they dared but always favoring the horses. During the journey Esk kar spoke often with Sisuthros. They would ride side by side, letting the others stay ahead. After a few such conversations, Esk kar felt his subcommander had acquired a new respect for his captain and the difficulties they all faced.
Even from afar Esk kar saw the wall had grown. The eastern side, the one that would bear the brunt of the attack, had been completed, as had the great wooden gate, already blackened by fire to harden it and make it resistant to flames. On each side of the gate, towers rose up even higher to protect the entrance.
As Esk kar and his men drew closer, someone recognized them. Even at that distance, Esk kar could hear the roar of welcome that steadily increased in volume. Men and women began pouring out of the gate, some running toward them, a few claiming vantage spots on the roadway, while others stood shoulder to shoulder atop the new wall.
At the outskirts of the village, he turned to his men. “Mitrac, you go first, then I’ll follow. And try to look like fighting men instead of tired old women for a change.”
The men laughed as he knew they would. He could call them anything now. During their time with the Ur Nammu, Esk kar had thought about what else he could do to strengthen their bond to him, and an idea had occurred to him. He would form a new clan. Not a clan of men related by blood, but a clan of arms.
He had spoken of it while they rested with the Ur Nammu, and all the men had eagerly accepted the idea. Most had no kin or close friends, and this new clan would give them a brotherhood to make up for what they lacked. They’d have something greater than themselves to belong to, and they’d share a bond of allegiance to their new brothers.
So they had sworn a great oath of loyalty, first to each other and then to Esk kar. Afterward Zantar took needle and black thread and stitched a crude outline of a hawk on each of their tunics. The hawk represented both strength and fierceness. Esk kar’s Hawk Clan was born, resurrecting the symbol of his father’s clan in the Alur Meriki.
Now they returned as true warriors, proven in battle and united in a clan of honor. Each man sat a little straighter on his mount, ignoring his wounds and aches. Mitrac carried his bow upright, a thin strip of leather with fourteen thumb bones hanging from its tip. Esk kar had eight bones dangling from his sword belt, and the rest carried their bones in a similar fashion.
They walked the horses the last hundred paces, unable to move any faster because of the crowd. Riding at the rear was Tammuz. The boy had surprised them all by surviving his wounds. Though he still grimaced in pain from his arm, he sat proudly on his mount, though Maldar held the halter. Tammuz carried the small bow in his good hand, displaying his single trophy.
Esk kar’s eyes searched the crowd until he spotted Trella waiting just outside the gate, a smile on her normally reserved features. Her guard stood behind her, and nobody in the crowd dared to push in front of her.
Seeing her brought a grin to his face, and as he rode through the gate, he reached down and pulled her up to sit sideways in front of him. The crowd laughed and cheered even louder as her arm went around his neck.
“Well, girl, I’ve returned, and I’ve much to tell.” She could scarcely hear him over the noise. The villagers continued to call his name, and the skittish horses began to flatten their ears at the growing crowd.
The men dismounted and walked the horses to Esk kar’s house. The crowd followed behind, still shouting with as much enthusiasm as if the barbarians had already been defeated. Arriving home, Esk kar ordered that Tammuz be carried inside. Annok — sur sent one of the women to fetch a healer.
Esk kar went to the well and took advantage of his first opportunity to clean himself properly in over three weeks. A servant brought clean clothes, but Esk kar only donned them after he’d scrubbed as much of the horse scent from his body as he could.
Maldar remained at Esk kar’s house. The men chose Maldar as custo-dian for their loot, to be stored in Esk kar’s chambers until they called for it. None of them ever had so much of value before, and they didn’t know what to do with it. No one felt comfortable carrying all that gold on their persons. They approached Esk kar and asked him to guard it for them.
The idea of holding gold for others made him uncomfortable, but he agreed his house was a safer place for their money than leaving it in the barracks. They decided Maldar and one other of the Hawk Clan would inspect the valuables once a week to make sure they remained safe. Each man took only what he needed for a few days of wine, women, and gambling.
Alone in their rooms Esk kar took Trella in his arms and squeezed her tightly. He stroked her hair and felt happy just to hold her. The feel of her body aroused him, and he would have taken her, but the summons had already come from Nicar. Reluctantly he let her go.
Later Esk kar, Trella, and Sisuthros sat down at Nicar’s crowded table with all the Families and their important followers present. A feast had been declared for all. Villagers shouted and sang in the streets, gladdened by Esk kar’s return and a chance to celebrate.
Nicar served his finest wine, but Esk kar took only a single cup. When he’d drunk half of it, he refilled it with water. Wine no longer tempted him. Esk kar didn’t want his wits dulled by wine. He did eat, enjoying the fresh bread and chicken Nicar’s servants provided.
When he described the battle, not a sound could be heard, and he had to repeat the story, adding more details. Sisuthros told part of the tale, filling in the fight as he’d seen it, and telling of Esk kar’s exploits.
Their faces registered shock at what he’d done. That Esk kar would risk his life to help another tribe of barbarians seemed incredible. Nevertheless they rejoiced to hear that, together, they’d wiped out seventy Alur Meriki.
“The Ur Nammu will be of great use to us,” Esk kar said, ignoring the skeptical looks. “We’ll meet them again, and they’ll keep track of the main force for us.”
More questions kept coming, and Esk kar encouraged Sisuthros to answer several, while he studied the faces of Caldor and Nestor. The old man just smiled, revealing no emotion.
But young Caldor did not repress an occasional flash of anger, though he
kept silent. No doubt he wondered what his gold had purchased. You will be dead soon, Caldor, like Drigo’s whelp, and this time it will give me much more pleasure. Finally Esk kar had a question of his own.
“Corio, I see the east wall is complete. How goes the rest of the work?”
The new walls were not laid out strictly according to the compass. The east side, where the wall stood highest and where the main attack would come, actually faced southeast, toward the crossroad where the two main roads met to form a single track that led to the gate.
“You’ve been gone three weeks,” Corio said. “In that time, we’ve made good progress, and are ahead of schedule, mostly due to the numbers of new men willing to bend their backs to avoid the barbarians. The entire wall will be finished in less than three weeks, and the river sluices and canals have been widened and are ready for release. We can let loose the water and begin to flood the plains in less than one hour.”
Esk kar turned toward Gatus and Jalen. “And the men? How goes their training?”
“Sixty men finish training this week, and another seventy will start.”
Gatus had a big grin on his face. “The training goes faster, now that we have so many veterans. By the time the barbarians arrive, we’ll have over four hundred and twenty well — drilled men ready to defend the walls.”
“Then there’s much to give thanks for,” Esk kar said. “And you are satisfied with our progress, Nicar?”
“Esk kar, I’m more than satisfied. Up to now, I’ve been hopeful we could fend off the barbarians. When we first spoke, you promised me no better than an even chance. Now I’m sure that we have at least that, especially now that you have returned. The whole village worried while you were gone.” Heads around the table nodded in agreement.
“But now that you are back, the people will have confidence again.
Permit us to give thanks to the gods and to honor your return with a celebration tomorrow.”
Esk kar felt surprised by the warmth in Nicar’s words, but the sight of Caldor clenching his jaw reminded him of what was to come. “I’m grateful to return, Nicar… honored Nobles. But now I would like to return home and get some rest.”
That ended the dinner. Everyone seemed excited by the prospect of a celebration. The village hadn’t relaxed for months, and the people could do with a reason to cheer. In the street outside Nicar’s, a few idlers lingered to shout greetings to Esk kar and, to his surprise, Trella as well.
They walked back to the house, Trella’s hand in his. He closed the door to their private chambers, slid the wooden bolt into the hole with a sigh of satisfaction.
“Don’t you want to eat more supper, Esk kar? You hardly ate anything at Nicar’s, and we have much to talk about.”
Her smile looked the same as he remembered it. “Yes, Trella, I’m still hungry.” He took her into his arms and ran his hands over her body.
Esk kar kissed her hungrily, and she returned his passion, rising up on her toes as she put her arms around his neck. When they finally paused for breath, she lifted up her arms and he drew her garment up over her head, then let it drop. He took her hands in his and stepped back to look at her, letting his eyes feast on the sight of her naked body in the lamp’s flickering light before picking her up and carrying her to the bed.
Two hours later Trella arose and called down to the servants for food.
Sitting at Esk kar’s work table, they ate another meal of bread and cold lamb, washed down with watered wine. For dessert, Trella peeled an apple while Esk kar savored a handful of fresh dates. She listened attentively as he described the trip and what he’d learned. When he finished, she shook her head.
“You leave too much out.” She put her hand on his. “I want to know everything about the battle: what you thought, what you saw, why you did what you did, even how your men reacted. I know nothing about such things, and if I’m to help you, I need to know what and how men think in such situations.”
Unlike most fighting men, Esk kar found it difficult to talk about battle.
It was too personal, too intense. He knew he’d dodged death too often to boast about his own skill, all too aware that luck or chance was as important as one’s prowess. The terror of it all, the horses screaming, the stink of fear in the air and on men’s bodies, the knots in your chest when a sword slashed at you, the trembling in your bowels, the weakness of limb and mind afterward.
Esk kar began again, this time taking her as best he could through the entire episode, starting from the hilltop when he first saw that the Ur Nammu would be trapped. He tried to explain to her what thoughts rushed into his head and why he decided to help them. He recalled the fear he saw in Mitrac’s face as Esk kar pushed him into the battle, the tenseness and doubts of Sisuthros, who had never been involved in such a close — fought battle, and even the struggles of those Esk kar fought and killed.
Words and emotions he didn’t know he possessed helped him describe something almost beyond description. When he finished, she took his hand and led him back to their bed, and this time she made love to him with such tenderness that she left him weak and trembling.
Afterward she bathed him again. They relaxed in each other’s arms, the light from the lamp almost gone, the wick already smoldering. But Trella had more questions. “Tell me more about Mesilim and his son.”
That led to the conversation with Sisuthros, the division of the spoils, the formation of the Hawk Clan, and eventually their return to Orak. Eskkar even repeated conversations with Tammuz and Maldar, surprised he could recall so many details. By the time he finished, the moon had risen high in the night.
“You have done well, husband, better than well. My father said that few men have the ability to command large numbers of fighting men. You’re such a man, Esk kar. You saw your opportunity and you took your chance.
Luck is the favor of the gods, and it’s sometimes better to be lucky than skillful. All your decisions were sound, and you’ve prepared for the future by turning Sisuthros back to your side and by establishing the Hawk Clan.
That will bind many fighting men to you. You’ve established a family clan overnight.”
“Seven men and a boy are not a large number,” he pointed out, though pleased at her words. “But you’re right, we were lucky.”
“Yes, you were lucky you weren’t killed, that you didn’t lose all your men, that the Ur Nammu didn’t turn on you after the battle and kill you.
But tell me, who else in Orak would those men have followed into battle against seventy barbarians? I can think of no man. And you’ve proven yourself and your men in combat, and now a thousand will follow wherever you lead as easily as did ten.”
He thought about that for a few moments. The men wouldn’t have followed any one else into that canyon, certainly no one in Orak. The more he thought about it, it seemed unbelievable they had followed him at all.
But perhaps what she said might be possible, perhaps he could command five hundred men, or maybe even a thousand.
She interrupted his thoughts. “But you must not risk your life again.
Never take such a chance. You’ve proven your bravery. You say you plan to take the soldiers against the barbarians on the other side of the river?
Go if you must, but do not fight in the front lines. You cannot risk your life so carelessly. You’ll be needed to defend Orak and for what will come afterward.”
“A fi ghting man needs to fi ght, Trella, or the men lose respect for him.
The battle across the river will be easier, but I must be there to make sure it’s successful. After that, I will stay in the rear.” He let his fingers drift across her breasts, his hands still delighted by her body. “And now, perhaps you will reward me one more time.”
She leaned down in the darkness and kissed him, then dug her elbow sharply into his side, making him gasp with surprise. “Just like a man, to think only of himself. Don’t you want to hear what I’ve been doing while you were gone, or do you think nothing happ
ens without you?”
He felt glad the darkness hid the guilty look that crossed his face. Indeed, he hadn’t thought much about her or her plans. “Couldn’t we talk of that tomorrow?” he ventured, unable to keep the plaintive tone out of his voice.
“No, we cannot wait until tomorrow. There is much that you need to know, and you’ve had enough lovemaking for one night! Now, would it not please you to know that the villagers panicked completely when they thought you were dead?”
“Dead? What made them think I was dead?”
“I spread the rumor you’d been killed. That is, Annok — sur and I spread it. The whole of Orak had it in less than an hour, and there was panic in the marketplace. The villagers were afraid and people were getting ready to flee the village. People shouted that we were lost without you to protect us.”
“And those people…”
“More friends of Annok — sur.” Trella’s voice held a satisfi ed tone. “Nicar had to speak to the crowd and tell them it was merely a rumor, that no news had as yet returned. He spoke just in time and even I was brought to the marketplace to agree with him. In a few more hours, half the village would have been on the move. Many had already begun to pack their belongings.”
“And you did this to…?”
“To make sure that Nicar and the other Families know how much they need you, and to make sure the villagers understand that as well. Remember, when the battle is over, we’ll need many friends to make sure you’re accepted into the Families. Now everyone knows you’re favored by the gods.”
So she had been busy. He didn’t bother to ask what she would have done if he’d gotten himself killed. She would have considered that possibility as well. “What else did you do while I was gone?”
Another hour passed as he listened to all she had to say, the weariness gone from his eyes. At last the talking ended, and she curled up in his arms and held his hands against her body until they fell asleep.
