by Sam Barone
“Well, that is good news,” Esk kar replied, a smile lighting his face. “I must go, before the whole village thinks I sleep the day away.” Bantor’s eyes were full of questions but Esk kar waved them away. “Everything is taken care of, so don’t try to speak. Annok — sur will tell you everything.”
Esk kar looked at her. “The women around here seem to know everything that goes on.”
He checked in at the command table, where he learned the barbarians were keeping out of sight and that nothing had happened during the night. He went to the well, washing and drinking deeply of the cool water before he poured it over himself. Returning to the house, he entered the kitchen where he got bread, figs, and some fresh — cooked strips of horseflesh. Placing everything on a wooden trencher, along with a cup of water, he carried it all outside to the command table.
By then a tired Gatus had arrived, his watch just finished. Esk kar remembered that his second in command was getting on in seasons.
“I walked the walls at dawn,” Gatus reported. “Everything is as it should be. Work continues on the gate and there’s a huge stockpile of stones there now. Jalen is on watch and Hamati is making another circuit of the wall.
Corio wants to know what he should do about all the bodies in the ditch.
The smell will be rank soon enough.”
Esk kar took a bite of the horsemeat and washed it down with a gulp of water, then chewed on a piece of bread, using the time to think. Trella had spoken several times about the need to keep the village as clean as possible during the siege. When he hadn’t shown much interest, she took the responsibility on herself. He didn’t understand her reasons for wanting to take charge of the sanitation but it seemed harmless enough.
She’d organized work gangs to cleanse the streets and make sure the villagers cleaned up after themselves. Carts now collected the human and animal waste each day and took it to the stables, where a huge pit had been dug.
Before the attack closed the gates, the carts had simply dumped their contents into the river, letting those downstream worry about the occasional floating gifts in their water. But the dead bodies in the ditch would soon be stinking. Not that he cared about that, but they might block the flow of water needed to keep the ditch muddy. In a few days there might be dry patches that the barbarians could use for their attacks.
“Gatus, I want the bodies dragged to the river and dumped in. We can’t let anything interfere with the water flow. So let’s use all the men who ran yesterday. I’ll tell them they can redeem their honor by this task, if they do it well. We’ll let them do the dirty work but we’ll need soldiers and others to help, maybe even horses and some carts. If we prepare everything in advance, we can probably clear the bodies in a few hours, and maybe the barbarians won’t try to interfere.”
“It’s a filthy job, not even fit for slaves,” Gatus replied with a laugh.
“They’ll think twice before they shirk their duties again. I’ll get everything ready and go out with them.”
Esk kar thought it more likely that the sight of their leaders being executed yesterday might keep them better focused on their duties. “You prepare everything, but I’ll watch them,” Esk kar ordered. “You get some rest.”
Gatus opened his mouth to protest but Esk kar held up his hand. “If I do it everyone will see how important it is, and I can get a chance to stretch my legs. I’ll promise a few coins for those who work the hardest.”
He stood up and went to the well for more water, carrying his empty water cup. A servant was there bringing up water and a fresh bucket soon appeared, cold from the depths. Men always forgot to drink enough water when they had the chance, and then a long day in the heat would leave them weak from thirst.
A little after midmorning they opened the rear gate. Soldiers stood ready, just in case a horde of barbarians had hidden at the river’s edge. But nothing greeted them except the swirling sounds of the river. In a steady stream nearly two hundred men and women slipped out, leading a few horses and carrying ropes and planks. Everyone went quickly to their assigned locations and duties.
They didn’t have far to go before they found the first corpses. The hot sun and slippery mud made it hard work, and the bodies of men and horses were already covered with flies that rose up in a cloud as they were disturbed. Many of the dead had loosed their bowels as they died, adding the stink of human waste to the smells of blood and open flesh. They saw marks on the bodies indicating that during the night, many small animals had feasted well.
The men slogged through the mud, dragging the bodies toward the far side of the ditch, where other men tied ropes to the corpses’ feet, then coaxed nervous and excitable horses to their dreary task. As they shifted the bodies, the smell of death rose fresh in the heated air.
The worst jobs went to those men who’d fled their duty. They had to wrestle the bodies from the mud to the edge of the embankment. But yesterday’s offenders weren’t enough to move all those dead by themselves.
Soon almost everyone was in the mud, all of them more fearful of being caught out in the open than worrying about the dirt and stench.
They started from the river gate, working both sides of the walls. It didn’t take long to clear the rear, and soon they began working on the sides.
But most of the dead lay in the front of the east wall, and before long the barbarians saw the activity and sent horsemen to investigate.
They were a small party, fewer then ten riders, and they held their distance, showing a newfound respect for the archers standing ready on the walls. Esk kar kept pace with the laborers, shouting encouragement and laughing each time a man fell on his face, or slipped backward on his ass.
He had led his horse down into the ditch, walked it carefully across the muck, then helped it scramble up at the other side.
Now he could ride back and forth as needed, keeping an eye on things and giving directions. His four bodyguards followed on foot behind him, no doubt cursing the heat and their captain’s idea of exercise. Mostly, though, he sat and watched, letting the men know that he was there, while Nicar and others from the Families directed the actual work.
Esk kar heard his name called and looked up toward the wall. Trella waved at him, surprised to find him on the far side of the ditch. He waved back at her, feeling like an apprentice on holiday, before he rode slowly toward the front of the village.
At the southeast corner of the wall he stopped and watched his men’s progress. Not that they looked much like men any longer. Rather they seemed to be made of mud themselves, having fallen so many times.
Esk kar looked east toward the barbarian party now less than a half — mile away, just out of long bowshot. As he stared another twenty or so riders joined the first party. They pointed their bows at him. Three of them rode toward him, staying out of range and shouting challenges at him, offering him a chance to fight them in single combat.
Ignoring them Esk kar turned his horse past the corner of the wall and rode toward the front gate, his animal picking its way carefully around the bodies and the remains of the burnt carts. The horse shied repeatedly at the corpses, snorting and jerking its head, as disturbed by the stink as any of the men. Esk kar kept his knees locked tight on the beast’s ribs. Reaching the area in front of the main gate, he surveyed the damage.
Even though the gate was blackened by fire before the attack, he could see where the flames of the Alur Meriki had done their mischief. The cracks caused by the ram seemed large to him, but if Corio professed himself happy with the repairs, then it must be satisfactory. He had a big crew of men at work, making sure that the ground beneath the gate stayed firm and cleared of obstacles. A dozen ropes dangled from above, should the men need to be pulled quickly back into the village. The gate would not open until the Alur Meriki departed.
A shout from the wall made him turn, and Esk kar saw the barbarian party had swelled to more than sixty or seventy riders. By now they realized he must be someone of importance, probably by the w
ay the villagers cheered and shouted as he passed them. Esk kar moved on, walking the horse slowly toward the northeast corner, inspecting the ditch and the wall, trying to put himself in the mind of his enemies, trying to guess their next point of attack. When he reached the corner, he saw that a dozen warriors had paralleled his course, staying out of range, but watching his movements.
His guards looked nervous, fingering their swords and constantly watching the barbarians, but the line of archers on the wall kept the enemy at bay. Esk kar knew the Alur Meriki must be sorely tempted to ride in close enough to launch a wave of arrows, but they seemed unwilling to risk the danger, especially since Esk kar could easily ride away from them.
The villagers continued to clear the bodies and by noon they had worked their way around from both sides to reach the front. By his order bodies not in the ditch would be left alone, so plenty of stinking corpses would remain. But Esk kar wasn’t willing to risk villagers or soldiers’ lives any further than the ditch. Turning the horse he came slowly down the north side, splashing a little into the swamp, letting himself feel the mud’s stickiness as the animal sank to its fetlocks in the man — made marsh and had to struggle to free itself.
At the rear of the village the activity continued at full speed. Bodies arrived steadily and were untied from the animals. Men dragged the corpses down to the river’s edge where other laborers pushed them over the embankment. Then they used long poles to shove the dead out into the current. In a few more moments the work would be done. The river looked cool and inviting. Impulsively Esk kar swung down from the horse and handed the halter to his guards.
“I’m going to take a swim,” he announced as he unbuckled his sword and stripped off his tunic, grinning at the nervousness in their eyes. “If anyone wants to join me, come on in.” None of them moved and in a moment, he dove in, about fifty paces above where they were dumping the bodies. Here the water flowed fresh and clean and he soon felt refreshed and cooled. He refused to think about those who would be drinking the water downstream for the next few days.
Esk kar swam for only a minute or two, just enough to feel clean, before he climbed out. After drying his body with his tunic, he took the horse by the halter and guided the animal slowly down into the ditch and then through the mud until he and his guards had reached safety back across the ditch.
He stopped outside the gate and watched as the villagers shoved the last of the bodies into the river. With the filthy job finished, villagers and soldiers followed Esk kar’s example, jumping into the river, laughing as they washed off the dirt and blood, and splashing water on each other.
They looked cheerful, their task done.
The last work crew continued, their task almost completed as well. More than eighty villagers, mostly women and old men, wielded rakes, planks, and shovels, to rake the mud as level as possible. Wielding their implements, they smoothed the mud and filled in any holes. Another backbreaking task, but one that needed to be done properly to insure the even fl ow of water.
A boy came over to take his horse back to the stable, but Esk kar waited at the rear gate, watching until everyone finished their work and the last man and woman passed back inside. The guards pushed the gate closed, then barred it.
As the men passed by, Esk kar spoke to them, thanking them for their work. That had been Trella’s idea, to make sure the villagers knew they’d been forgiven and to let everyone know he appreciated their efforts. Those disgraced by their cowardice now felt absolved, and he no longer saw any sullen or dejected looks on their faces, though he’d seen plenty of both this morning when he ordered them into the ditch. He felt surprised, though, at the looks they gave him in return. They had pride again and seemed glad he had noticed their work and thought it important enough to join them outside the wall.
Walking back home he found Trella upstairs, helping Annok
— sur change Bantor’s bandages. Bantor looked even better than he had this morning, though Esk kar knew there was an even chance the man would die. Sometimes wounded men, no matter how strong physically, would suddenly take a turn for the worse and die, even after they seemed to be recovering. Bantor’s eyes held many questions, so Esk kar sat down and described what had happened, though his subcommander had probably already heard most of it from Annok — sur.
They dined that night outside in the courtyard, at the same table where the morning’s meetings occurred. Gatus, Jalen, Totomes, Corio, Nicar, and Trella sat at the big table, joined by two of the Hawk Clan. Alexar would take over the duties of Maldar, and Grond, who had been recommended for promotion by Gatus. Alexar, a small man, with a thin wiry body, claimed to have been a thief before he joined the soldiers. Grond was his opposite, tall, just a shade under Esk kar’s height but broader in the shoulders. Grond’s back showed marks from the lash. According to Gatus, Grond had been a slave in the distant lands to the west, but had escaped and found his way to Orak. Both men served under Gatus in the fight across the river.
After dinner, everyone sipped their wine, relaxing a little. Esk kar brought up the ideas he’d considered during the day.
“Though we hurt them badly yesterday, the barbarians will be back,” he began, “and this time they’ll be better prepared. They’ve lost many men and cannot afford to do so again. They’ve attacked the wall twice now with no success. So I think they’ll hurl the next assault at the gate. They’ll use more fire and find ways to protect their men while they attack.” He paused to give anyone a chance to speak up, but no one did.
“That kind of attack will take them many days to prepare, so they may try something else first, maybe a night attack.”
He paused, but nobody spoke. That silence had become more frequent.
After each victory his words were received with more and more importance. Now anything he said was taken almost as if coming from the gods, and lately he had to prompt them for their ideas and opinions.
“Gatus, keep the wall manned each night, with men every twenty paces.
I want them awake and alert. Keep the watches short so they don’t get sleepy, and make sure they know the punishment for not being alert. During the day ensure they get plenty of sleep and that they are not awake gambling or wasting time with their women.”
At least he didn’t have to worry much about them getting drunk. Wine and ale were in short supply and the price of what little remained had gone up sharply.
The meeting ended and everyone went their way. In bed Esk kar took Trella in his arms and held her close. “The next few days will be hard ones, Trella. I worry more now than I did before the first attacks. Then, I felt certain we could surprise them. But after two attacks, they know how strong we are, and they’ll be wary and cunning. And they’re angry, filled with revenge for those we have killed.”
“Perhaps they’ll give up. Even if they could take the village, they know that they will lose many more men.”
“That’s what everyone would like to believe, but warriors don’t like to be beaten. They’ll fi ght harder, if anything. They’d be shamed in front of their women if they just slunk away.”
“Then there is nothing we can do but defeat them when they come.”
25
Ten days slipped by. Each morning as dawn broke, the men on the wall searched the plain before them, saw nothing, and breathed a sigh of relief. Today would not be the day. Bands of warriors occasionally rode about, but little could be seen, with most of the encampment behind the hills. The less activity they showed, the more Eskkar worried.
Almost every night brought some new threat. For the barbarians, the night gave them an easy opportunity to keep the villagers off guard. Using the cover of darkness, men would slip up to the wall, fire a few arrows at the sentries, then disappear. Sentries covered themselves with leather, but men still fell dead or wounded. By the time soldiers hoisted torches over the wall, the attackers were gone, and seldom did the soldiers have a target. Besides the cost in men, the antics kept everyone on edge and losing sleep.
If he had enough men at their rear, even a hundred would do, he could attack the enemy and disrupt the camp, burn their wagons, scatter the horses. But he was not in their rear, he was trapped inside Orak with no way to get out.
Meanwhile, the barbarians continued with their preparations. The thought made him uneasy, so he got out of bed, pulling a tunic over his body and slipping out of the bedroom. Moving silently, he descended to the main floor, then out into the courtyard. A torch burned there at all times and the guards walked by, alert even at the end of a long day.
Esk kar nodded at those manning the command table, but walked toward the rear of the house. He sat on the bench, facing the trees where Natram — zar had been tortured. Already that time seemed long in the past, a mere trifle hardly worth considering.
One pleasant memory remained, however. A few feet from the base of the tree, where it came closest to the wall, Caldor’s head had been buried deep in the earth. Both young Drigo and Caldor had insulted Trella, and both were dead, a fact all in Orak knew well. Caldor had even put his hands on Trella’s body, but that would never happen again. No man would ever touch her and live.
Esk kar returned his thoughts to the Alur Meriki. He stared into the darkness, wondering what they would do next. He needed a spy, he decided, someone who knew their councils. If only he had a way to visit their camp, spend a day or two there, observing and listening. But no one could get out of Orak. The attackers had sealed up the village too well.
A shadow moved on the ground. He looked up and found Trella in front of him, a cloak wrapped around her body, though the night air held little chill.
“I thought you found it pleasant in our bed,” she said quietly. “Or do you plan to sleep in the garden?” She sat down and leaned against him.
