The morning sun woke Esk kar. He sat up with a start, then flinched in pain. Lifting his hand, he shaded his eyes and looked around the camp. His men were moving about, except
Zantar and Tammuz, who remained in their blankets. Mesilim’s healer had done his best for the boy’s arm, but his screams had echoed through the camp despite the wine poured into him. He’d fainted twice during the ordeal. Now the boy slept, but feverishly. Nothing more could be done. Tammuz would recover or die, assuming riding a horse didn’t fi nish him off.
Someone left a water skin at hand and Esk kar emptied it before he got to his feet, fighting the pain in his leg. He hobbled back and forth a few times, his teeth gritted, until the stiffness in his limbs lessened and he felt confident the leg wouldn’t give out. At least he didn’t need the crutch.
Esk kar checked the bandage on his arm. No fresh blood stained the crude dressing, though pain accompanied any sudden movement. In daylight he saw blood, dirt, and even worse covered his body. The rank smell turned his stomach.
“Morning, Captain.” Maldar walked over. “The barbarians brought in some more firewood. We’ll have fresh horsemeat soon.”
Bile rose in Esk kar’s throat at the thought of food and he had to swallow before he could speak. “I want to wash in the river. Bring me my horse.”
“Good idea, Captain. The rest of us have already cleaned up.”
The men had gone to the river and returned while he slept. Esk kar swore at his weakness.
Maldar returned leading the horse, then held it while Esk kar mounted cautiously. He rode slowly out of the valley, ignoring the throbbing in his thigh and the dizzy feeling in his head.
At the bank of the stream he dismounted, wincing as his leg took the sudden weight. He let himself fall into the slow — moving water, where he washed his body and his clothes at the same time. The effort exhausted him, so he lay back in the cold water until the last of the stink and dried blood faded away.
When Esk kar could stand the cold no longer, he pulled himself out and rested next to the stream, letting the sun’s rays warm him as they dried his garments. He thought about what the day would bring.
When he returned to the canyon, he found his men standing about, waiting. The horses had been fed and watered, weapons cleaned, and the wounded tended. The Ur Nammu had completed the burial pit. A single lance buried in the earth, blade thrusting skyward, marked the site. A long yellow streamer bearing the sign of the Ur Nammu fl uttered from the tip.
More prayers had been chanted to appease the gods and sanctify the ground. The bodies of the Alur Meriki lay in a tangled heap around the lance. They’d be left to the carrion eaters, so all would know they’d been conquered in death as well as in life. When the Alur Meriki discovered this place, they would leave the bodies untouched and unburied. The dead would suffer in the afterlife for their defeat.
One of Mesilim’s warriors greeted him with a slice of well — roasted horseflesh, the meat burned almost black and nearly too hot to hold. Eskkar wolfed it down, surprised at his hunger. It took a second strip to satisfy him.
Mesilim walked over. “Chief Esk kar, we’re ready to leave this place.
We’ll camp on the other side of the stream. I’ll send scouts out in case another war party arrives.”
If one does, we’ll all be dead. It took time to load the men and animals with the captured weapons, food, and loot. At last they walked their horses from the canyon, their pace dictated by the wounded men and animals. As Eskkar left the canyon, he glanced back at the place where so many had died.
Already a flock of vultures and other birds fought over the dead flesh. The steppes people had lived and died this way for generations. It might be as good a way to die as any other, though he hoped his bones would find peace under a patch of earth someday, instead of above.
They camped at the small stream where Esk kar had bathed earlier. Everyone felt glad to be out of the maze of canyons and back on the sparse grasses where the air didn’t smell of blood. A dead tree provided firewood and more horsemeat soon sizzled on the flames.
Esk kar talked with Zantar. He’d recovered his senses and could speak coherently. Zantar had an enormous bruise on his forehead. Strangely, the man remembered nothing of the fight or even the hours leading up to it, and had to be told in detail what happened.
As for Tammuz, he remained fretful. They had no more wine to give him. They’d supported the boy on his horse during the brief ride to the stream, but he fainted again when they lifted him down. Mesilim’s healer examined his patient and rebound the injured arm tightly to the boy’s side to prevent further damage. Now Tammuz slept on the soft grass, his head pillowed by a horse blanket. He tossed and murmured in his sleep.
Three Ur Nammu scouts rode off, while other lookouts took up posts on the surrounding hills. Finally all the animals had been fed and watered, the men had eaten a second time, and the time for talk had arrived.
Mesilim and his son came to Esk kar. He kept Sisuthros with him, even though Sisuthros did not understand the language. The four men found a quiet place on a grassy knoll a hundred paces from the stream, where they could speak privately.
Esk kar shared what information he had about the Alur Meriki, then listened to what Mesilim had to say. Esk kar asked many questions about the numbers and movements of the Alur Meriki. As they spoke, the leaders sketched a map in the dirt between them, using twigs, stones, and knives to represent various landmarks.
“Now I understand why they march as they did,” Mesilim remarked.
“We wondered what they searched for in their movements and why they didn’t ride to the west. It will not bode well for you and your village when they do.”
“Mesilim, I truly believe we can resist them,” Esk kar said. “I’ll have many bowmen to man the wall or swing a sword.”
Esk kar didn’t wait for their polite concurrence. “But I’d like to have your clan’s assistance in my fight. If you help us, I believe you can satisfy your Shan Kar without sacrificing the rest of your men.”
“The Shan Kar is to the death,” Subutai answered firmly. “We’ve all sworn the oath and there’s no turning aside.”
Esk kar nodded gravely. “Of course. I’m a stranger to your clan, Subutai, and ignorant of your ways. But cannot a Shan Kar be satisfied by a great defeat of the enemy in battle? At least that’s what I’ve heard.”
They knew Esk kar came from the steppes, probably from the Alur Meriki clan they’d just fought. But diplomacy prevailed. Neither Mesilim nor his son wanted to ask any questions whose answers might offend them.
“That’s true,” Mesilim responded, “but we’re not numerous enough to create a great battle. The days of our clan are numbered, and we will not recover our strength before we’re overwhelmed. In a few days another ten or twelve warriors and a handful of women will join us, and that is all of the Ur Nammu.”
Esk kar hadn’t known any more of them survived, but took that as good news. “Orak is strong enough to create a great battle. We have almost as many people as in the tribe, and more come every day. It will take all of the might of the Alur Meriki to capture our village. If you join with us, then you could share in the great battle. If we win, your Shan Kar would be satisfied. And if you fight with us, I can help your people with weapons, horses, and supplies.”
Mesilim and Subutai exchanged glances. A Shan Kar sworn in the heat of defeat two years ago condemned them all to death.
“We must satisfy our honor, Esk kar,” Mesilim said, his head held high.
“But if there be such a way…”
Esk kar breathed a silent sigh of relief, then reached to the ground and rearranged the twigs and stones. “Here’s the Tigris to the north,” three small twigs bent at angles to show the big curve of the river. “And here’s Orak,” a small stone set next to the twig. “The main body of the Alur Meriki are here.” He placed a larger stone near the river. “The two raiding parties,” he put two pebbles at the lower end of the Tigris, “will sweep everything in their path toward Orak, and in six or seven weeks the entire clan will be camped before Orak’s walls.”
Mesilim nodded.
“Except for one other war party.” Esk kar picked up a stone and set it across the Tigris, opposite Orak. “This party will cut off those who try to flee, and then round up the cattle and horses we’ve sent across the river.
“This will be a smaller party, probably seventy or eighty warriors, just enough to hold the river and scour the countryside. With your help, I will ambush this party and kill all of them.”
Esk kar’s knife traced a groove northward along the Tigris. “After they are slain, your people can ride north, cross the river well upstream, then turn south and strike their main camp from behind at the height of the battle. There should be few watching their rear, because they know they’ve killed everyone in their path. The camp should be lightly defended. You can ride in and capture as many women and horses as you need to rebuild your tribe.”
His knife traced another line going northeast. “Then you can return to these mountains far to the north and rebuild your clan. If you remain north of the Isogi river, you can help guard Orak’s borders. We’ll establish trade with your people, and even give you protection should you need it.”
Esk kar planted the blade firmly in the earth.
“How will this satisfy Shan Kar?” Subutai’s curiosity got the better of him. “Even if we’re victorious, the Alur Meriki will still be undefeated.”
Careful, this has to be said properly. Esk kar took a deep breath. “The Alur Meriki have planned this attack on Orak for many months. All their marches and raids have been done only to put their full might against our village. They know we’re fortifying Orak and building a wall, but they think we cannot stop them. If they fail to capture Orak, if they are forced to move south without taking the village, then they will have failed in their plan. By fighting alongside us, you’ll help defeat the Alur Meriki in a great battle. That should satisfy the Shan Kar.”
Whether it did might be open to debate, but it offered a way to save face and would look a lot better than fighting to the death without any hope of survival. And another battle would satisfy honor. Esk kar put his hands on his knees and leaned back. He’d made the offer as best he could.
Now Mesilim would have to decide.
The Ur Nammu leader pondered Esk kar’s words for a long time. “The Alur Meriki will return in another ten or fifteen years,” he said finally.
“Even if you drive them away now, you may be defeated later.”
Esk kar and Trella had talked about that possibility often enough.
“Times are changing, Mesilim. I believe that when the Alur Meriki return, all of the countryside around Orak will be defended, and the walls of Orak will be higher and stronger than they are now, with many more trained defenders. I’ve seen what can be done to prepare for the onslaught, and we’ve learned much. The future is always shrouded in mystery, but I believe Orak will survive, and it will be the Alur Meriki who are again driven off.”
“How would we get across the river?” Subutai’s subtle question left no doubt as to where the younger man stood. His words would send the same message to his father.
“When you’re ready,” Esk kar went on, “in a few weeks, cross the lines again and come to Orak. We have a ferry to move your men and horses across the river. We’ll watch for your coming and escort you in, lest anyone attack you by mistake.”
“Why do you do all this, Esk kar?” Mesilim countered. “And why are you so concerned about warriors across the great river?”
“If I cannot destroy all the barb… Alur Meriki on the west bank, those who escape will warn the main camp. If even a few survive, it could be disastrous for Orak. A dozen men could set the land ablaze. We’ve no provision for war parties on that side of the Tigris, and we don’t have enough men to guard our livestock. The villagers would lose heart to find their herds destroyed or scattered. We need that livestock to rebuild the herds once the Alur Meriki have gone.”
Esk kar stared into the eyes of the chief. “I need to tell my people I can destroy those Alur Meriki on the west bank and get back to Orak in time to man the walls. I must destroy them completely, and I cannot do so on open ground. I don’t have enough horses or men who know how to ride them. So I need your help to make sure they’re driven into some trap where I can kill them with my archers, and use your warriors to make sure none escape.”
“I will speak of this with Subutai and the other leaders,” Mesilim said.
“We’ll give you an answer by nightfall.” He stood up, then extended his hand to help Esk kar to his feet. “You are… you were born on the steppes.
Now you’ve cast your lot with farmers and herders of goats and sheep, and they will never accept you fully. Do you not wish sometimes to return to the life of a warrior?”
It was not a casual question. Mesilim offered him a choice-Esk kar could ride with them, if he chose.
The offer tempted him, but the thought of Trella banished the idea.
“Many times, Mesilim. Many times I’ve wished to return to the warrior’s life on the plains and steppes. But I’ve lived too long with the villagers, and I’m more used to their ways than those of our fathers. And I have a woman, a gifted one, who calls me back to her side. But if fate is not kind to me, then I will remember your words.”
“Even if you win, can you be sure of how you’ll be treated afterward?”
Mesilim’s concern showed he understood much about villager ways.
“It’s true there is much treachery among the village leaders. But I’ve learned much in the last few months, and my power grows each day. Also my woman gives me good advice in these matters.”
Barbarians thought one woman much like another. They also believed any warrior who listened too carefully to his woman showed weakness.
Nevertheless, Esk kar had referred to Trella as a “gifted one” and perhaps Mesilim understood the power and strength of a woman who occasionally showed such wisdom and strength of character as to be accepted at the council fires.
Mesilim nodded in understanding. “We’ve fought together and we can never break the bond of thanks the Ur Nammu owe you. Now we must decide our own future.” He turned, and his son followed.
Esk kar’s men waited, curiosity whetted by watching the four men speak for almost two hours. He stopped in front of them. “Mesilim has told us everything he knows about the barbarians. I’ve asked him to join us in our fight. If he accepts, I think he can help us. If he chooses another path, then ours will be much harder.”
Esk kar turned toward the sudden activity that had broken out in the camp. In a moment Esk kar understood the commotion. “Enough for now.
It’s time to divide the spoils.”
That task took the rest of the morning and lasted into the afternoon at a maddeningly slow pace. Esk kar forced himself to smile and remain patient. The spoils were divided equitably, with Esk kar’s men getting a little more than what he would have considered their due, so no one complained. Esk kar’s share filled a sack. Trella would find good use for the gold and jewels.
The kills had to be counted as well, another involved task that required much sifting of evidence as to who killed whom, how it was done, and who witnessed it. Esk kar received credit for eight kills, though he doubted the number was that high. He certainly hadn’t killed the last warrior himself, though both he and Subutai received equal credit for that body. The highest number of kills went to Mitrac, whose arrows were found in fourteen bodies, plus more than a half dozen horses. Esk kar thanked whatever gods protected archers that no arrow had struck any Ur Nammu. Mesilim personally presented Mitrac with a gold and copper ring of great value, in addition to the double handful of jewels and gold nuggets the boy had earned as his share.
Afterward many Ur Nammu touched Mitrac and his bow for luck, and all wanted to know whether the rest of the villagers had weapons such as his.
Everyone spent the rest of the day eating and resting. Esk kar agreed that his men could use the time to heal their wounds. Subutai persuaded Mitrac to demonstrate his archery skills and some warriors matched him shot for shot until the distance grew too great for their smaller bows. The force of his weapon impressed all the warriors. Even a hit that might not be fatal would send a man to the ground, unable to fight any further.
The feasting extended into the evening with still no decision from Mesilim. Esk kar found himself a little withdrawn from the circle of his men.
Finally he got up and walked over to the stream to relieve himself. Sisuthros came over to join him.
When they finished Esk kar started back, but Sisuthros held his arm, keeping him out of earshot of the men sitting around the fire. “Captain, I would speak with you. There’s something I have to say.”
Turning to face his commander, Esk kar heard the strain in his voice.
“What is it, Sisuthros? Unhappy with the spoils?” Even in the moonlight, Esk kar saw confusion on the man’s face.
“Captain, I… there is…” He stopped and fumbled for a moment with his belt, then brought out a small pouch he handed to Esk kar. “This is gold, twenty pieces, that I was given before we left Orak. It was understood that another ten would be mine if you didn’t return.”
Esk kar felt his face flush with anger. For a moment he wanted to strike Sisuthros down, kill him for what he’d been planning. But the rage passed.
If it hadn’t been Sisuthros, it would have been someone else. A man always had enemies, and as Esk kar grew more powerful, the number of enemies would increase. Besides, he needed a fighter like Sisuthros, both now and probably even more in the future.
Esk kar hefted the pouch in his hand. “Thirty gold pieces. That’s a great amount of gold.” He handed the pouch back. There wasn’t much light, but he detected surprise on the man’s face.
“Don’t you want to know who gave this gold to me? Or why?”
“I already know, Sisuthros, even before we left Orak. That’s why I selected you to come with me. Caldor isn’t very careful with his words.
Nicar’s whelp should keep his mouth shut.”
Sisuthros’s eyes widened in astonishment. Esk kar remembered Trella’s words-always act as if you know more than you’re saying. “Who else of the nobles approached you?”
“Nestor. I was in the tavern one night, and they bought wine, then we went for a walk. They said you were no longer needed, that others could take over now that the preparation was well begun. They worry you will have too much power and will turn on them once the barbarians are gone.
That is, Nestor fears that. Caldor hates you for some other reason. His anger is strong, Esk kar.”
“It’s because of Trella. He’s insulted that she’s quicker in her wits than he, and that she’s listened to by the Families. He wanted her when she was in Nicar’s house. Now he wants me dead to have her for himself. He cares nothing about the future of Orak, and he’s too stupid to see he might be destroying someone who could save his life.”
“Trella befriended my wife and watched over my child.” Sisuthros’s voice hardened as he caught the drift of Esk kar’s words. “I didn’t know he lusted after her. You’re right, he is a fool.”
The young man stood there for a moment. “And I’m a fool as well. You saved my life in the battle, Esk kar. If you knew of this, why did you do so?
You could have let the barbarian kill me.”
“I saved your life because you’re a good man with sharp wits, and because I need you to help defend Orak. But you’ve much to learn. They would never let you live even if I were killed. No matter what they promised, you’re too young to command so many men, and I doubt you would have seen any more gold. The nobles want no strong captain of the guard who might have opinions of his own. Why do you think they put up with Ariamus all these years? Because he was greedy, and they knew they could control him through his greed. Nestor’s just an old fool who doesn’t realize the barbarians will return, even stronger than they are now.”
Esk kar laughed. “Or maybe I saved your life because I didn’t have time to think about it. I would’ve done the same for any of my men, as would you.”
“I’m not sure what I would have done in your place. I… took the gold.”
“And what were you going to do?” Esk kar’s voice hardened. “Kill me in front of the men? Challenge me to a fight? Or murder me in my sleep? You had plenty of chances, and it’s still a long way to Orak.”
“I don’t know what I wanted! I didn’t want to do anything. I wish I’d never taken the gold. But I did. Perhaps I am not the man you think I am.”
He heard the anguish in Sisuthros’s words. “Then become the man you should be.” Esk kar gripped Sisuthros’s shoulder. “Forget the gold. Look at these barbarians. They’ll slit each other’s throats over a woman or an insult. But in battle, they die for their comrades because that’s the code of the warrior. You are a warrior, Sisuthros, but if you deal with merchants and shopkeepers on their terms, then that is what you will become.”
Sisuthros stared at the ground. “I’m not worthy to be under your command.” His voice choked with emotion. “You’ve treated me fairly, promoted me, and I nearly betrayed you. Even these strange barbarians respect you.”
“And what do you want now? Do you want me to hate you? No, I think I’ll give you more responsibility because you’ve earned it, earned it by what you did yesterday when you followed me into the canyon, though I saw in your eyes you thought we rode to our death. But you will earn more honors by what you do from now on. And when this is over, there’s even more that will be asked of you, and greater rewards to be had.”
“You would reward me after what I’ve done?”
“Done? You haven’t done anything except listen to a young fool and an old fool in a tavern. You’re not a murderer, Sisuthros.” He moved closer.
“Listen to me. When this is over, we’ll have to rebuild the countryside.
You’ll be a ruler in a village of your own, and we’ll fight the next wave of barbarians together. Forget about Caldor and Nestor. They don’t understand what’s at stake here.”
“I’ll kill Caldor and Nestor then.” Sisuthros’s voice was hard again. “I’ll throw the gold in their faces and kill them.”
“Nestor is nothing. But killing Caldor would give me great pleasure.
But not yet, because we…” A call from the campfire interrupted him, and Esk kar turned toward the firelight to see Mesilim coming toward them.
“We’ll talk more of this later, Sisuthros. But remember, you showed great courage yesterday, and we fought together against great odds. That’s more important than gold.” Esk kar stepped back to his men’s fire circle to receive the Ur Nammu chieftain.
“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 happens 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.