by Sam Barone
With two women working the cart, the business thrived, especially since En-hedu took but a tiny part of the profits. The selling took little effort, leaving her plenty of time to chat with Ninbanda and those who lived in the lane. En-hedu soon became familiar with Korthac’s men, even learning their names. After a few days she called out to them when they passed by, offering her wares, urging them to look and to buy.
She quickly learned not to attempt to speak with them when they walked with Korthac. The Egyptian showed no tolerance for those beneath him, and coldly berated any of his men who fraternized with the villagers. Of course, a woman selling in the streets was far below his notice, and after one glance at En-hedu’s disfigured face, he ignored her completely.
Korthac’s men, however, looked at her far differently. En-hedu knew the look of lust when she saw it, and the Egyptians all seemed to burn with it. Her broken nose didn’t matter to them. And not only her, but any woman in the lane. Their hot eyes devoured each woman they passed.
Men’s lusts were nothing new to En-hedu. She’d had to satisfy not only her former master, but some of his friends on more than one occasion. Spreading her legs, she’d closed her eyes and did what they commanded. Her old master had taught her to obey as soon as she reached his house. He raped her at once, not even bothering to close the door, then beat her for not pleasing him. The beatings continued every day, until she learned to obey every command instantly.
Remembering those times made her apprehensive. She knew Tammuz wanted to take her, and she dreaded the day when he could no longer restrain himself. A slave was bound to pleasure her master, and yet the thought of a man, even Tammuz, taking her, being inside her, brought back the painful memories.
After all these weeks, she’d learned to trust Tammuz, to let him hold her in the darkness, and she clasped his hand at every opportunity. Nevertheless, she wondered fretfully what Lady Trella would think, if she learned En-hedu hadn’t pleasured Tammuz—that she had failed in one of the most basic duties due her master.
Aside from that concern, she looked forward to the end of each day, when she returned to the alehouse. She’d soon discovered that old Kuri needed plenty of help dispensing the ale, especially in the evening hours.
He drank too much of his own wares, and easily lost track of what the customers consumed and paid. En-hedu kept a close watch on the stock, and cut down on the waste and spillage. Kuri gladly relinquished that part of his duties, and instead did his best to maintain order.
Naturally many customers wanted more than just ale, and solicitations for sex and worse initially followed her every step. Tammuz ordered one man out the first night for laying a hand on her, and Kuri did the same the following night. By then En-hedu had grown confident enough in her own strength. After she’d knocked down one drunken patron and threatened to bash his brains in with a stool, the regular patrons soon learned to leave her alone.
She was the owner’s slave, and he was keeping her for himself, a not entirely unreasonable thing to do. Once the customers grasped the odd fact that she was not for sale, they accepted her as one of themselves.
For herself, En-hedu came to enjoy the time spent behind the selling cart. Being outside, breathing fresh air, and enjoying the sun with little to do except watch the cart gave her more time to heal. The long days turned into weeks, and En-hedu and her leatherwares became as much a part of the lane outside Korthac’s residence as the walls, houses, and dirt underfoot, and just as unnoticed.
And so the days passed. En-hedu watched the Egyptians with care, always challenging them to purchase something from her cart. Some of them spoke only Egyptian, but many had picked up more than a few words of the local language. They remained subdued when Korthac walked about, but a week after his arrival in Akkad, Korthac began spending most of the daylight hours at the river. He set up a trading table there, and each day offered a handful of gems for sale or trade. Many Akkadians stopped at his table, as well as travelers, boatmen, and traders journeying up or down the Tigris.
That left most of his guards—as En-hedu soon came to think of them that way—with nothing to do except wait for their master’s return. She discovered they were not allowed to leave the house without Korthac or his senior assistant, a tall, bald-headed man named Hathor. Hathor also functioned as an occasional bodyguard, though there were other Egyptians who regularly guarded Korthac’s person.
Forbidden to walk the lanes, Korthac’s men lounged in the doorways, staring boldly at the women who passed by. For the braver ones, it only took a few steps to cross the lane and examine En-hedu’s merchandise and exchange a few words with her in their halting way. She made sure they always received a warm smile for their efforts.
“They seem to be waiting for something,” En-hedu said to Tammuz.
Each night, they sat alone in the dark of their bedroom or lay together in the bed, leaving Kuri to keep watch in the outer chamber while the customers snored on the floor.
“We know no more than we did last month,” Tammuz said, impatience and frustration showing in his voice. “Each week I send word to Trella we’ve learned nothing new.”
“We must wait a bit longer, Tammuz,” she said. “Korthac’s men are becoming more friendly. He can’t keep them in the houses forever.” By now she’d watched Korthac’s house for more than four weeks, and understood Tammuz’s frustration.
“I wish I could slip into the house at night, just to listen.”
“You know you cannot do that, Tammuz.” Since the incident on the roof, Korthac had added another sentry on the rooftop at night, and still had the usual guards at all the entrances. No doubt another one or two would be inside the main house, alert and awake. The extra guards didn’t arouse any suspicion to the rest of Akkad. Everyone knew Korthac possessed plenty of gold and gems, and naturally he would take precautions.
“Something will turn up, sooner or later,” she said, taking his hand and holding it close. “We just have to be ready when it happens.”
“Soon, I hope.”
“Soon, I’m sure. Now go to sleep, master.”
En-hedu waited as he tossed and turned, before finally falling asleep, his arm thrown over her chest. She let go of his hand, and thought about the man asleep in her arms. He needed to be pleasured, and soon. Frustrated by his inability to learn anything about Korthac, she knew Tammuz needed something else to think about. She sighed. Any day now, and she would have to do it, offer herself to him and endure the pain. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so painful with Tammuz. And better a little pain than facing Lady Trella’s disapproval.
Chapter 11
I tell you, Trella, this is wrong. Asurak deserves his goods, and the council should support his claim. Otherwise . . .”
“Otherwise Asurak will have to pay what he agreed,” Corio cut in, the annoyance plain in his voice. “Which he should have done yesterday, instead of wasting the council’s time.”
The discussion, argument really, had gone on for some time, and Trella didn’t need to hear much to make up her mind. The dispute started at dawn, when the trader from Dilgarth tried to deliver his goods to Asurak.
The trader, Chuvash, had come down from Dilgarth yesterday with the first wagonload of raw flax. Two merchants had bid for the goods, and Asurak had proffered the higher price to Chuvash, with the goods to be delivered this morning.
Now Asurak claimed that, after a closer inspection, the goods were inferior, and only offered to pay fifteen silver coins, instead of the agreed-upon price of twenty-five. Within the hour, everyone in the marketplace knew the story. Trella, on her way to the council meeting, learned of it from Annok-sur, who’d heard it from one of the women in the market.
Rasui, the newest member of Akkad’s nobles and a close friend of Asurak, supported the merchant’s claim and made the argument before the other council members.
Trella spoke before Rasui could start again. “I think the council has heard enough. Both Asurak and Chuvash gave us their versions, and the council has
heard the same story twice.” She turned to Corio, Nicar, and then to Rasui before going on. “Asurak inspected the goods before he offered the price. He waited until the other bidder had left the city before he decided the goods were inferior.”
“If the trader wants to sell his flax,” Rasui countered, “then he has to sell to my . . . Asurak. There are no other buyers of flax in Akkad.”
Trella smiled at Rasui’s logic. True enough. All the usual buyers of flax had departed for Dilgarth in the last few days, eager to resume trade and lock in prices for the first deliveries. Knowing of the temporary shortage of buyers in Akkad, Asurak no doubt felt confident the Dilgarth trader would have to accept the revised terms.
“No, the deal is revoked,” Trella said. “Asurak says he doesn’t want the goods at the original price. Fine. Then let him pay Chuvash two silver coins as a penalty for attempting to change the agreed upon price. I will pay the trader twenty-five coins for the flax myself. I’m sure I can resell the goods in a few days, when the flax weavers return from Dilgarth.”
Corio laughed aloud. “Sounds fair to me.” He turned to Nicar. “What do you say?”
“Actually, I was about to make the same offer,” Nicar said, a hint of humor in his voice. “I don’t usually deal in flax, but I have a boat going downriver tomorrow, and I can ship the raw flax south. Plenty of weavers in the villages along the river. The first boatload should fetch a good price. If Lady Trella doesn’t mind, I will buy the goods from Chuvash for twenty-six silver coins.”
Trella laughed. “Be my guest, Nicar. You can make better use of it, I’m sure.”
Rasui muttered something under his breath. Trella couldn’t hear what he said, but Corio, sitting beside Rasui, must have.
“Watch your tongue, Rasui,” Corio said, disdain plain in his voice.
“This council isn’t here to help scheming merchants take advantage of others. Your friend should have known better.”
“Well, then, at least Asurak need not pay the two silver coins as Trella suggested,” Rasui argued. “Since he’s getting twenty-six from Nicar and . . .”
“The two extra coins are for wasting the council’s time, and the trader’s,” Trella said. “He pays or he can leave Akkad.”
“Lady Trella speaks for all of us,” Corio said, turning to Rasui and emphasizing the honorific. “Asurak can pay now, or leave tomorrow, which-ever he prefers.”
Trella had noticed Rasui’s frequent omission of her simple title, a sign of respect given to her as Eskkar’s wife and for presiding over the council in his absence. And while the Council of Nobles was technically a group of equals, everyone remembered when Eskkar had convened the first meeting, a week or so after the siege ended. Some newly returned shopkeeper had referred to Trella casually. Eskkar had given the man such a look that he turned pale, and couldn’t stammer his apologies fast enough.
After that, no one failed to refer to her properly.
And now Rasui, caught up in the heat of the argument and trying to help his friend cheat the trader from Dilgarth, had not only forgotten her title but said something derogatory about her under his breath. If Eskkar were here, the man would already be packing his things, assuming he still had his head on his shoulders.
Trella sighed, and wished for a brief moment that indeed Eskkar were here. Her husband might hate these endless and interminable meetings, but he did have a way of settling certain disputes. Once he simply ordered a tavern keeper out of Akkad. When the man protested, Eskkar stood and put his hand on his sword, before asking if the man wished to go for a swim in the Tigris without his head. Not very diplomatic, but, when used occasionally and with care, very effective.
Trella rose and leaned forward on the table. Resting her hands on the rough surface, she gazed directly into Rasui’s eyes. “Tell your friend two silver coins to Chuvash now. And the council doesn’t want to hear any more about this matter, so tell Asurak to keep his complaints to himself. If he can’t trade honestly, he can leave Akkad. I’m sure there’s room on Nicar’s boat for one more.”
Rasui clenched his jaw, but one glance at the two Hawk Clan soldiers guarding the door reminded him that Trella had no problem with using force.
No one spoke, and all eyes turned to Rasui. “Then it’s settled,” Nicar said, speaking before the silence went on too long and Rasui felt tempted to speak up. “And if there’s nothing else to discuss this morning, I would like to get back to my business.”
“And I,” Corio agreed. “There’s so much building going on, I hate to be away from my apprentices any longer than necessary.”
Rasui dropped his hands on the table and nodded agreement. “As you say, Lady Trella.”
Trella ignored the hint of condescension in Rasui’s tone. Straightening up, she sweetened her voice. “Then until tomorrow, nobles.”
Rasui left first, no doubt to give his friend Asurak the bad news and put the matter behind him. Corio nodded at Trella, but made for the door nearly as fast as Rasui. Trella and Nicar left together, her two guards forming up around her as soon as they went outside and into the lane.
“Rasui lets his tongue run away with him,” Nicar commented as they walked side by side. “Asurak probably offered five coins to Rasui to help him shave the price.”
“If we don’t treat these traders fairly, then the goods will flow elsewhere,” Trella said, repeating the policy she and the council had established weeks ago.
“Yes, but a little cheating is expected,” Nicar said. “That’s what we merchants do sometimes, to get the best price.”
Even Trella laughed at that. “I don’t recall you ever doing anything so obvious, Nicar. You always appreciate the need to keep good relationships with your suppliers.”
“Perhaps I’m just more subtle in my dealings. At least, I hope I am.”
They’d reached the fork in the lane, and Nicar bade her good-bye as he walked off toward his home. Annok-sur, who’d followed behind them since they left the council house, moved alongside Trella.
With only two more lanes to cross, Trella took her time, stopping whenever she saw any of the dozens of women she knew, and answering the same questions again and again about the coming child. Trella’s excellent memory enabled her to keep a name with each face, and her ability to recall nearly every detail of every conversation convinced her followers that they occupied a special place in her thoughts.
In a few moments, the women and guards reached Eskkar’s lane, and a few paces later, they turned into his courtyard.
“Do you need to rest, Trella?”
“No, I just want to sit outside for a while,” Trella answered. “Dealing with Rasui always leaves a bad taste in my mouth.”
They walked to the back of the house, and sat together on the bench between the two young trees. Only a single guard kept station there, to make sure no one slipped in over the wall, and to keep an eye on Trella’s bedroom window on the upper story. The soldier, at a smile from Trella, obligingly moved away, across the courtyard. He could still see the women, but not hear them, if they kept their voices low.
“That Asurak,” Annok-sur began. “He should be driven out of Akkad. He tries to cheat everyone he deals with. Sooner or later, someone is going to put a knife between his ribs.”
“He’s no worse than a dozen others,” Trella said. “Except he has a friend on the council. Rasui encourages sharp dealing. I sometimes wish we had never accepted him into the nobles.”
“Rasui had the gold to pay his way onto the council,” Annok-sur said, “though how he got it, no one knows.”
Before the siege, Rasui had been a minor trader dealing in slaves. Like many others too fearful to stay and fight, he’d chosen to depart the city before the Alur Meriki arrived. A few months later, after Eskkar drove off the barbarians, Rasui returned, with plenty of gold in his pouch and a steady supply of slaves. The trader paid the penalty demanded by the council for abandoning the city, and paid again to join the council itself as a noble.
Tre
lla never cared for slave traders, not after her own experiences with them, but the reborn city required all the skills and trades it could find. She’d put aside her own distaste for Rasui and his calling, though now she wished otherwise.
“In a few months, if he doesn’t change his ways, we’ll send him packing,” Trella said. “But not now. We still need every trader, merchant, and worker we can entice to come here.”
During the siege, many merchants and craftsmen had left the city, most of them going to the south, some even as far as Sumeria. And except for war goods such as timber and bronze, much of Akkad’s trade had fallen off as traders sought safer places to do business. And though many people had returned to or settled in Akkad, the number of craftsmen, herders, and farmers hadn’t recovered. The situation would change soon enough, but the next six months would be critical to insure the city’s continued growth. Afterward, Akkad would be stronger than before, and individual merchants and traders would be less important.
“In another week or two,” Annok-sur said, “Asurak will be back before the council, answering some other complaint and hiding behind Rasui’s tunic.”
“Probably,” Trella agreed. “But for now, I think the real problem goes deeper. These council meetings waste most of our time on petty disputes that do little to grow the city. When we first convened the council, important matters needed to be resolved. But now, Akkad has grown too big to govern in the same way as a small village. Even Eskkar knows that. We need a new way of ruling, a way that allows the city to grow while protecting its trade and its people.”
“More changes,” Annok-sur said. “The nobles won’t like that. They’ve already given up much of their authority.”
A breeze filled the courtyard, rustling the trees and shaking some blossoms from the limbs. Both women paused for a moment, watching the tree limbs sway gracefully.
“There are nearly five thousand people in Akkad,” Trella went on. “In another few years, there may be twice as many. The number of disputes will more than double. There will be quarrels over housing, farmlands, herds, anything and everything. If there are two or three confrontations a day to be resolved now, there will be a dozen each day soon enough. No, we need to reshape Akkad’s ways now, before the sheer number of people overwhelms us.”
