For the next ten days, Esk kar spent the mornings with his commanders, preparing for the different kinds of battles they might face. Then he trained with the soldiers, primarily to encourage the men. The Hawk Clan helped build morale by retelling the story of how Esk kar destroyed the Alur Meriki raiders. The embellishments grew with each repetition, and the soldiers’ trust in their leader soared. With the wall nearly finished, their self — assurance increased even more. Esk kar wanted the men to feel confident in their skills and commanders. They’d need that certainty when the fighting started.
The soldiers practiced with sword, spear, and axe. The proud Hawk Clan took the lead, playing the role of attackers, making spirited assaults on the wall. The master archers paced off distances from the wall and half — buried stones in the earth. Painted different colors to mark the distance, the markers allowed the bowmen to gauge the range to their enemy.
The old targets were torn down. Bowmen practiced shooting only from the wall, to make sure they had the feel for every shot. Under Totomes’s guidance they learned to fire volleys at specific distances.
Weapons and food continued to pour into Orak. The refugee traffic on the roads had diminished as the Alur Meriki drew closer, but men continued to arrive, many eager to work or fight, asking only that Orak protect their families. River trade increased, and the ferry plied its path back and forth countless times each day. Every vessel brought some much needed cargo. Stockpiles grew, and everyone complained they had no space to sit or stand.
When Esk kar walked about, the villagers cheered him, calling out his name or wishing him luck in the coming fight. Trella was just as popular, especially with the women, the poor, the children, and the elderly. She visited many of these people daily, assisting and organizing them, and making sure the women knew their roles in the coming fight.
Gatus finally had enough soldiers to train the women and old men.
His men showed them how to fight fires and to use short, stabbing sticks from the wall. Men and women alike practiced using forked sticks to push ladders back.
Hundreds of rocks and stones were carried to the parapet and thrown down by villagers. When one group finished, they recovered the stones for the next group, a labor that went on all day, until everyone’s muscles ached with pain and the rough stones had rubbed their hands raw. Thousands more stones stood in great piles beneath the parapet.
The training for soldier and villager continued until they mastered each technique, tool, and weapon. Women coated every exposed wooden surface inside Orak with a layer of mud, leaving no combustible targets for fire arrows or torches hurled over the wall. The village prepared for the siege, but Esk kar saw as much optimism as fear on everyone’s face.
Esk kar shook his head in amazement at it all. He clapped Gatus on the back and praised him publicly for his labors.
At the end of a long but satisfying day, Esk kar returned home just before sunset. He went first to the well at the back of the house. The luxury of the private well still pleased him. He enjoyed the chance to wash the sweat and dust from his body.
As he fi nished he heard the gate to the courtyard bang open. A ragged youth slipped under the surprised guard’s arm, though the man was stationed there to prevent just such an intrusion.
The boy rushed toward the house, his voice a high — pitched shrill. “Captain, Captain, come quick… Lady Trella’s been stabbed!”
The boy dodged past a servant coming from the house. Bantor appeared in the doorway and grabbed the lad, holding him fast. Esk kar ran up, went down on a knee, and faced the boy.
“Here, lad, here I am. What happened to Trella? Where is she?” Esk kar felt dread growing in his stomach.
“Lady Trella was returning here, when a man came up behind her and drew a knife.” The boy’s high — pitched voice rushed the words together.
“I called out to warn her, but I was too late and he stabbed her. Then he turned to run, but I grabbed his leg and held him until her guard reached him. The guard sent me here to find you.”
“Where, boy? Where is she?”
“In the Street of the Butchers, near the carpenter’s shop.”
“Keep him here!” Esk kar pushed the boy into Annok — sur’s hands as she approached.
Esk kar ran back through the courtyard and out the gate, headed for the Street of the Butchers. Before he’d gone more than a dozen steps a crowd approached, led by a burly soldier carrying Trella in his arms. One arm dangled limply. Her dress, covered in blood and cut open down the side, dragged on the ground. Trella’s eyes rolled in her head and Esk kar couldn’t tell if she was still alive. He recognized the guard, Klexor, assigned to guard Trella that day.
Klexor pushed right by Esk kar as if he didn’t recognize him. Three soldiers of the watch, all white — faced and with drawn swords, followed close behind.
“Is she alive?” Esk kar forced the words out of his throat, his voice hoarse.
The guard carried Trella through the courtyard and into the house.
Someone had cleared the big table and he placed her down gently. Annok — sur pushed him away and pulled open Trella’s dress. Someone had cut a strip of cloth from the garment and used it to bandage her wound, the fabric wrapped completely around her body, just under her breast.
Esk kar reached the foot of the table. He saw Trella’s breast rise and fall, so she still lived. But her face was pale and blood oozed from her left side.
“Send for a healer.” Annok — sur shouted the words over her shoulder as she placed a folded blanket under Trella’s head.
Klexor stood dumbly where Annok — sur had pushed him. Esk kar strode to his side and grabbed his arm. “What happened? Who did this?”
The man turned and stared at Esk kar for a moment. “Yes, Captain, she’s still alive,” the bodyguard replied, as if recalling Esk kar’s earlier question. “A man stabbed her in the lane. But a healer was passing by and came when he heard the shouts. He bound her wound, then said I should bring her here.” The guard glanced around. “He said he’d follow… ah, there he is.”
An elderly man, his bald pate ringed with wisps of white hair, came puffing through the door. He carried a large leather pouch slung over his shoulder that contained his instruments. Esk kar recognized Ventor, a healer often used by the soldiers. Too common for the upper classes, Ventor was better at binding war wounds than treating headaches or queasy stomachs.
“Don’t just stand there,” Ventor ordered as he headed directly to the table, “bring fresh water and clean cloths. And lamps and candles, as many as you can.”
Annok — sur moved aside for the healer. Ventor opened his bag and used a knife to cut off the crude bandage.
Esk kar stood there in shock, pushed aside by the women. He watched helplessly as Bantor’s wife and another servant wiped the blood from Trella’s body while the healer poured water over the wound.
At first Esk kar thought she’d been stabbed in the chest, but as the blood washed away, he saw the blow had taken her from the left side, starting a little below the armpit and slicing down towards the hip. The long, jagged cut still bled, but Ventor ignored the blood as he washed the wound, pouring water from the pitcher up and down the length of the opening. The bloody water spilled to the floor.
“Bring another pitcher,” Ventor demanded. He took a candle and slowly scanned the length of the wound, holding the flame close to her body.
The examination went on for a long time, before he straightened up and put down the candle. “Nothing in the wound.”
Taking a needle and thread from his pouch, he threaded the needle carefully, then quickly bound the end of the thread with a large knot.
Ventor rinsed the wound one more time, then, assisted by the women who held the flesh together, he began sewing the wound closed.
It was nothing Esk kar hadn’t seen before. He’d suffered the same treatment, even watched while it was done, but this time he had to turn away.
His hands shook and he forced himself to stop, clenching both hands into fists. Bantor’s wife joined Esk kar and her husband.
“I think she’ll live, Esk kar,” Annok — sur whispered. “The wound is long but not deep, and the blade glanced along her ribs. Though I’ve no doubt she would’ve bled to death if the healer wasn’t close by to staunch the bleeding.”
“My thanks to you, Annok — sur. Please stay with her.” Esk kar stared at Ventor, bent low across the table as he finished closing the wound. At last the healer began to bandage his patient, using clean linen brought by the servants. “When the healer is finished, keep him here to watch over her.”
Esk kar faced Bantor. “Now let’s find out who dies tonight.”
He stepped out into the courtyard. He found it full of armed men. A few torches provided light against the deepening darkness. When they saw the grimness on Esk kar’s face, a groan went up.
Bantor called out quickly, “No, no, she lives. The healer is with her.”
A ragged cheer went up, echoed from beyond the wall, and Esk kar realized the street outside must be crowded with people, all concerned about Trella. Two members of the watch pushed their way through the soldiers, dragging a ragged man already covered with bruises, his hands tied tightly behind him and a gag in his mouth. The prisoner shook so hard he would have fallen if the men hadn’t held him upright.
“This is the one who attacked her, Captain.” The guard gave the prisoner a jab in the ribs. “Klexor caught him before he could escape.”
Cries of “kill him… kill him now” went up from the soldiers, but Eskkar raised his hand for silence. He turned to Bantor. “Watch him, and keep him alive.”
Esk kar fought the urge to strike the man, but that could wait. Think first, then act, Trella always told him. He started thinking coherently for the first time since they’d brought her in. He looked around the garden and spotted Klexor, sitting alone on the ground, disconsolate, his head in his hands.
“Klexor, come here,” Esk kar called out, then said to Bantor, “Clear out the courtyard, but keep twenty men here. Close the gates and send the rest of the men to the walls. I don’t want anyone to escape by slipping over in the darkness. Kill anyone that tries. Then come back here. Gatus, Sisuthros, come with me.”
Klexor stood up, shaking, and nearly fell. Esk kar took the man’s arm and guided him into the house. Ignoring the crowd around Trella, he led the man upstairs and sat the bodyguard on a chair in front of the table.
Esk kar poured two cups of wine, a small one for himself and a large one for Klexor.
“Here, take this.” Esk kar waited until the soldier had drained half the cup, then pulled it away from his lips. “Easy, now. Tell me what happened.
Take your time and tell me everything.”
Esk kar went to the other side of the table and sat. He looked carefully at the guard. A seasoned veteran and a bull of a man, Klexor stood a few inches shorter than Esk kar, but broader and wider, with hands like hammers. He wasn’t one of the original soldiers, but Esk kar knew him well enough, and the man had guarded Trella before.
Klexor wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “Captain, it wasn’t my fault, I…”
“I just want to hear what happened, Klexor. It wasn’t you that struck her. Tell me exactly what happened. Leave out nothing.”
Klexor took another sip of wine, then glanced at Sisuthros and Gatus, who leaned against the wall.
“I was assigned to guard Lady Trella today, and we walked all over the village, back and forth, visiting people, training with the women. Finally we started back here, but some women wanted to talk to her, so she stopped and spent time with them.”
His voice cracked and he took another mouthful of wine. “By then dusk was approaching. We were in the Street of the Butchers. The lane’s narrow there, and I walked in front, making a way through the crowd.” He stopped and ran his fingers shakily through his hair.
Get on with it, man, Esk kar wanted to shout.
“We were only a few steps from the carpenter’s shop, you know, the big one where they make wheels and…”
Esk kar nodded his head.
“That’s where we were, when there was a shout… some street boy screamed out ‘… knife, he’s got a knife.’ I turned and there was this man, his blade striking down. Trella screamed, and fell.”
Klexor emptied the cup and set it clumsily on the table. “I stood there, Captain, for a moment, I couldn’t move. But the boy, the one who shouted, he grabbed the assassin by the leg as he tried to run off and tripped him. Good thing he did, or he would’ve been killed himself. I saw the knife fl ash by the boy’s head. By then I’d recovered my wits and ran at the man just as he got up. I hit him, he went down… I hit him a few more times.”
The man stopped, thinking. “I heard Lady Trella say, ‘Alive… keep him alive’ before she fainted. That man, Ventor, I think his name is, came up and pushed me away. He bound up the wound and told me to send the boy ahead to you, then ordered me to carry Trella here.”
“And the one who stabbed her, do you know him?” Esk kar asked.
“No, I never saw him before,” Klexor answered, “though… wait, I did see him earlier in the afternoon. He could’ve been with the crowd at the wall when the women went there to practice. I’m sure I saw him there. The women may remember him.”
Klexor started to shake again, aware he could be put to death for failing in his duty.
“You said he tried to stab the boy? Did he still have the knife when you struck him?”
The guard concentrated on what had taken place, then answered. “Yes, Captain, he still had the knife. But he was trying to get away, not use the knife.”
“So you hit him. Why didn’t you use your sword?”
“Lady Trella said to keep him alive… no, that was later. I don’t know, I just wanted to get to him. I don’t remember what I was thinking. I forgot to draw my sword.”
Esk kar tried to visualize what the man had seen and done. “My thanks to you, Klexor. I’m sure no man could have done better. You did well to keep the assassin alive. Now go to the kitchen and get some more wine, but only one cup. You need to stay sober. Others will want to hear your words later.”
The man got up, his relief evident. “Captain… I’m sorry about what… she’s… she’s a good woman…” His voice choked, and he couldn’t get the words out.
“I know. Go now, and send up the boy who brought us the news.” He turned to Gatus and Sisuthros, then paused as Bantor returned, squeezing past Klexor on the landing. “It sounds as if the man was following Trella, and that Klexor did his duty.”
“The men have complained that it’s impossible for one man to guard either of you,” Gatus said. “You know that, with all these crowds. But Lady Trella didn’t want another guard assigned. Klexor performed as well as any man.”
“Nobody takes good advice, Gatus. She said the same thing to me. I should have…”
The door opened again and Annok — sur escorted the boy into the room, a crust of buttered bread in his hand, with crumbs and grease on his chin.
He looked frightened.
Esk kar stood and guided the boy to the seat just vacated by Klexor, but this time Esk kar pulled a stool around and sat down next to him. He judged the lad had about nine or ten seasons. “Don’t be afraid, boy. What’s your name?”
The urchin’s eyes went wide as he looked around. No doubt he’d never seen a room this big in his life, nor one as finely furnished. Esk kar prompt-ed him.
“Enki, Noble One, I’m called Enki.”
The name of the water god who dwelt in the river. “A fine name, Enki.
You’ve done a great deed today, and I’m in your debt. Without you, Lady Trella’s attacker would have escaped. Now I want you to tell me everything you did today, where you went, when you fi rst saw Trella, everything. Do you think you can do that? Start from where you first saw Trella today.”
“It was at the training ground, Noble. I went there to watch the women train. Sometimes they slip and fall, or their dresses come loose. When Lady Trella came, many of us ran over to her. Last week I carried a message for her, and she gave me a copper coin.” He looked crestfallen as he remembered. “But then some older boys took it away.”
“I can fix that.” Esk kar stood up and went back to his table, opened the drawer and extracted two copper coins. He presented them to Enki who took them with his free hand, the other still firmly clutching his bread. Eskkar sat down again. “Then what happened?”
“Lady Trella watched the women practice, then she began to train, too.
She’s very strong for a girl, you know, and she can handle the short spear by herself, or the forked stick. Many were cheering and laughing. When they fi nished for the day, the women washed themselves at the well. I like to watch that.”
Many of the women would take off their shifts and pour water over themselves. Esk kar smiled briefly. He’d watched such things himself. “Yes, that’s always fun to watch. Now, Enki, while you were there, did you remember seeing the man who attacked Trella? Was he there?”
Enki frowned as he tried to remember. “No, not there. I didn’t see him there. But later, when we began walking, he walked by me and Trella. I was following along, hoping she might need another message delivered or something. The man pushed past her and moved ahead. Then he came back and walked behind us again. He kept looking around, I remember that.”
“Good, Enki. What happened next?”
“Lady Trella stopped to talk to someone. Some of the boys crowded around her and the guard pushed them back. She and the women talked for a long time, whispering to each other, then Lady Trella smiled and gave one of them a coin before she started walking again. The guard had to push people out of the way so they could get through.”
The boy looked around the room and saw everyone watching him.
Probably no one had ever paid any attention to him before, and now four grown men listened carefully to his every word.
“Don’t be afraid,” Esk kar reassured the boy. “Go on.”
“I got left behind, and was trying to catch up when the man pushed past me again. I almost fell, and I cursed at him. Then I saw him pull the knife from under his tunic. He walked very fast, and headed for Lady Trella.
I yelled, and she started to turn around. Then she saw the knife and she raised her arm, but he stabbed her anyway. I kept yelling. He turned and ran away, ran right past me, so I grabbed his leg and held on until we both fell down. He got up, but the guard caught him and started hitting him.”
“Do you remember what you yelled, Enki? The exact words?” Esk kar wanted all the details.
“I remember. I yelled, ‘Lady Trella, he’s got a knife. Lady Trella …’
Then I saw the blood on the knife as the man ran past me.”
“How loud did you yell, Enki? Can you show me?”
Without hesitating, the boy screamed out the words, showering Esk kar’s face with bread crumbs, the high — pitched voice piercing in the closed room. It was loud, all right, loud enough to make anyone stop and turn around. If Trella hadn’t turned, she would have taken the blade in her back.
Esk kar made the boy go over the story again. When nothing new emerged, Esk kar glanced up at the three subcommanders, standing quietly against the wall. “Anything you want to ask?”
Gatus and Bantor shook their heads, but Sisuthros stepped over and bent down to examine the back of the boy’s head, pushing the unruly hair back and forth until Enki jumped in pain.
Sisuthros withdrew his fingers, some dried blood stuck on them. “I thought I saw blood. The blade didn’t miss by much, though I doubt it would’ve killed him.”
Enki’s eyes grew wide at the sight of his own blood. Sisuthros rubbed the boy’s head. “Just a scratch. Nothing for a brave man to worry about.”
“Thank you again, Enki,” Esk kar said as he stood. “Who is your family?”
“I have none, Noble. I had an older brother, but he disappeared. I sleep in the stables, or near the river.”
The brother had probably been picked up off the streets and sold to a slaver. “Then you’ll stay here from now on.” Esk kar turned to his men.
“Now it’s time to talk to the assassin.”
Taking the boy’s hand, Esk kar led the way downstairs, where he turned Enki over to Bantor’s wife before checking on Trella. The healer sat quietly beside her, his work for the moment finished. Ventor stood as Esk kar approached.
Esk kar stared at her pale face, her body covered with a soft blanket and another folded under her head. They’d combed her hair. Her eyes were closed but she was breathing regularly.
“How is she, Ventor? Will she live?” Esk kar couldn’t stop his voice from breaking.
“Yes, Captain, I believe she will recover,” Ventor said. “Unless the wound fills with pus. The blow struck her ribs and glanced downward. Her attacker should have directed his blade upward toward the heart. The ribs open to a thrust from below, but a downward stroke glances from rib to rib.
Not a very expert assassin.”
Ventor lifted the blanket and looked at Trella’s wound. “She’s young and strong and should heal quickly. I gave her some wine and ordered that she be fed soup as soon as she’s able to take some.”
Esk kar breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Ventor. I’d like you to stay the night. Then come at least twice a day to look in on her. You’ll be well paid for your good work tonight.”
“The nobles use their own healers, Captain.”
“Yes, but I’m just a soldier, and you’re more familiar with battle wounds.
Besides, I’ll not have a dozen healers standing around arguing about what potions to give her or gods to pray to. Tend to her wound, as you would for any soldier.”
Esk kar walked out into the courtyard. A cheer went up from the men.
Despite his order, more than twenty soldiers still crammed themselves into the courtyard, which now blazed with torchlight.
He held up one hand. “Trella is being cared for by the healer. Now we’ve work to do here, and you’ll be needed later. So clear the courtyard.
The Hawk Clan and the house guards remain.”
“Get the rest of them out of here, Gatus. Bantor, bring the assassin to the back of the house.”
Esk kar followed the guards as they dragged the man into the cul — de — sac behind the house.
The small garden contained only one bench and two small trees scarcely taller than a man. He stepped in front of the attacker. Two men held the prisoner by his arms. The man knelt in the dirt, arms bent up backward behind him, the gag still stuffed in his mouth.
Esk kar went down on one knee, his face close to the prisoner’s. His eyes bulged wide with terror, and the stink of urine hung over him. Esk kar pulled the gag from the man’s mouth, heard the quick gasp of air as the man filled his lungs. He started to speak.
“Silence!” Esk kar ordered savagely. “If he speaks or cries out, give him some pain.”
Both men tightened their grips on the man’s wrists, twisted high behind him, until he yelped with pain and saliva ran from his open mouth.
Esk kar studied the man carefully but didn’t recognize him. That didn’t mean anything. He could have been in Orak for months or days, though he was more likely to be a newcomer. “Anyone know this man?”
No one said anything. “What is your name?” The man said nothing, and Esk kar nodded at the men holding him. They jerked the man’s arms up a little, and the fresh pain loosened his tongue.
“Natram — zar… my name is Natram — zar, Noble.” He spoke in a hoarse voice with a trace of an accent. Esk kar guessed the man came from the south, probably Sumeria.
“Why did you attack my woman, Natram — zar?”
“I meant to rob her, Noble One. I’m just a thief. I only wanted to steal her purse.” He was pleading now, fear showing in his eyes as they darted back and forth.
“Then you’re a very poor thief, Natram — zar. Her purse was still around her neck.” Esk kar stood up. “Did he have anything on him?”
Bantor stepped forward, holding a small leather pouch, much worn and repaired, that contained five copper coins as well as other odds and ends, and the man’s knife as well.
Esk kar took it, tightening his lips at the sight of Trella’s blood. A good weapon, the copper blade fit perfectly into a carved and curved wooden handle. Small and well made, it wasn’t a soldier’s weapon, but perfect to hide under a tunic for a quiet murder. Much too good a weapon for a common thief. Of course, he could have stolen it from some wealthy victim.
“Nothing else?”
“Nothing, Captain. Only this purse and the knife.”
“Stand him up, then cut off his clothes.” The man started to complain, but the guards lifted him up, ignoring his protests that quickly turned into moans of pain. In moments, they’d stripped him bare, and his clothes lay in a heap around him, including the dirty and reeking undergarment where the man had pissed himself in fear.
Using the man’s knife Esk kar poked through the clothes. He almost missed a small pocket, sewn closed, that ran lengthwise along the bottom hem of the tunic. Esk kar sliced open the threads and heard the faint clink of coins. Each coin had been wrapped in a bit of cloth to muffle the sound.
Esk kar counted ten gold coins, all flickering bright in the torchlight.
He looked at each disc, but they were all well handled and worn, with the different marks of various merchants and nobles. He checked the rest of the clothes, but found nothing. The gold told its own story-a murder for hire.
Standing, he faced Natram — zar. “You’ve lied to me once. Don’t make that mistake again. If you want to avoid the fire, you’ll speak the truth.”
Esk kar heard Gatus call his name. “What is it?”
“Many of the nobles are in the street. Nicar and the others wish to enter, but I’ve kept everyone out as you ordered. Also, the men guarding the walls heard something in the darkness. When they went to search, they found a horse tethered to a rock three hundred paces from the wall.
Whoever was with the animal disappeared in the darkness. It’s a fine beast, loaded with food and a water skin.”
I should have anticipated that. The murderer would need to escape quickly after his deed.
Now the nobles waited outside. Esk kar wasn’t sure whether he wanted them here or not, especially when it could have been Nestor who paid the man. Nevertheless, if he didn’t have them present when the man confessed, they might not believe Esk kar’s witnesses. Damn the gods.
“Bantor, find out who knows the horse, who owns it, where it came from. I doubt if this fi lth kept a good horse stabled in the village for days, but if so, somebody will know him.”
Esk kar looked toward Gatus, still waiting. “Allow in only the heads of the Families, no one else. If they don’t want to come in, don’t make them.”
Esk kar turned back to the prisoner. “Ready to speak, Natram — zar? The time for lies is past.”
“Noble One, I’m just a thief.” His voice sounded hoarse from dryness and pain.
“Tie him between the trees and spread his legs well apart. Bring fire from the house. And plenty of wood.”
Natram — zar cried out as the men holding his arms started to drag him away. One of the guards dropped his arm for a moment, stepped in front of the prisoner, and punched him savagely in the stomach, the force of the blow doubling the prisoner over. “Keep silent, dog, or you get another.”
They secured the prisoner between the two small trees, spreading his arms wide apart and tying them to the largest branches. Then they tied the man’s ankles, spread — eagling his legs and fastening them to the base of each tree. They pulled each rope tight. When they finished, Natram — zar hung there helplessly, unable to do more than twitch.
While this went on, the heads of the Families came in, looking un-nerved, the sight of the naked man reinforcing their apprehension.
“Just in time, Nobles,” Esk kar began. “This man tried to kill Trella, and only a boy with quick wits and a loud tongue saved her life. The dog was captured in the act. His name is Natram — zar. He had those ten gold coins lying at his feet sewn in his tunic and a horse waiting for him outside the walls. Any of you know this man?”
The sight of the coins gleaming in the torchlight changed everything.
No thief could have such an amount, and only the nobles and a few of the wealthier merchants could afford such a sum for a hired killing. And no thief carrying that much gold would risk his life for a slave girl’s meager purse, not even if the slave were Trella.
Esk kar watched Nestor, but the old man seemed as shocked as the rest.
Nicar, Decca, Rebba, and Corio all looked blankly at Esk kar. Nicar found his voice first. “Who paid him to do this? Why would anyone want to hurt Trella?”
“You will all wait over there and say nothing,” Esk kar ordered, his voice hard. “Not a word.”
He glanced at Gatus, who had little love for any of the nobles. “Gatus, escort the nobles to the side of the house where they can see and hear everything. Make sure they say nothing.” From there, the prisoner could not see them.
By now Natram — zar had gotten his breath back and he lifted his head.
A wide clay bowl, packed full of wood and a few chunks of coal, was placed on the ground before him. Another man came from the house, carrying three burning coals on a clay shard. He dumped them into the bowl and began building the fire, moving chunks of wood atop the coals. In moments, a small fire burned steadily.
Esk kar reached down and held his hand over the low flames. The heat rose to his hand, and he withdrew it.
“Warm him up a little.” Maldar knelt down and pushed the fire between Natram — zar’s legs. With his legs spread apart, the top of the flames reached within a foot of his testicles.
Natram — zar screamed as soon as the first warmth reached his genitals, long before the heat could have affected him. He struggled to move his body aside, but the men on either side of him used their knees to push his body back, keeping him centered over the flames. Maldar tossed more wood chips on the fire. The flames reached even higher.
Esk kar waited patiently, watching the fire’s glow, watching the man as he jerked his body back and forth in a frenzy, trying to move his groin out of the path of the heat building up beneath him, trying to pull his genitals up into his body.
But Natram — zar’s frantic exertions quickly tired him. He had to slump against the ropes, which once again positioned him directly over the low flames. In a moment, the pain made him stretch upright, twitching and jerking once again, until exhaustion brought him back to the flames and the process repeated itself.
Esk kar let it go on for a while, while Maldar made sure the flames didn’t lessen. The screams came without ceasing now and Esk kar knew the sound would be heard many streets away. From out in the lane came the sound of cheers as the crowd guessed what was happening.
When the smell of burning flesh started to rise, Esk kar nodded to Maldar, who pulled the bowl forward, removing most of the heat. The prisoner slumped limply from the ropes, the hair scorched away from his thighs, his genitals a deep red from the heat.
Esk kar stepped forward. “Who hired you to kill Trella? Talk now, or go back into the flames.”
The man moaned as pain continued to shoot through his body. Blood flowed from his mouth where he had bitten his lip. “Mercy, Noble… mercy! I’m just a thief!”
“Back into the fire.” Esk kar stepped away, and Maldar returned the bowl underneath the prisoner, bringing the flames back into position, before tossing more wood chunks on the fi re. The top of the fl ames rose up to nearly touch the man’s body.
The assassin’s screams split the night air, loud enough to be heard throughout Orak. Jerking about, his cries for mercy echoed off the walls that surrounded him. Natram — zar must have known he was going to die, but that didn’t matter anymore, only that the pain stop.
Esk kar gave the signal to stop. “Give him water, then we’ll hear what he says.” A soldier brought a ladle of water from the well and held it to the man’s lips.
“Now, talk, and if you lie, you go back into the flames. And speak up, so all can hear your words.”
Natram — zar sucked in gulps of air before he could speak, then his voice croaked with pain and fear. “It was Caldor. Caldor paid me. Caldor, son of Nicar. I was only doing what the nobles wanted.” His voice trailed off and tears streamed down his cheeks.
A murmur of disbelief ran through the men in the courtyard, while Nicar cried from the wall, “No! It can’t be true.”
Even Esk kar felt surprise. He expected the man to name Nestor as the one who hired him. That was foolish. Of course Nestor wouldn’t want Trella killed. He might want Esk kar out of the way, but he had no grudge against Trella. He’d been more than kind to her at all their meetings. But Caldor? Could he be that stupid? A wave of anger went through Esk kar.
This was his fault. He should have taken care of Caldor sooner.
“Who else, Natram — zar, who else?” Esk kar grabbed the man by the shoulder and shook him. “Speak, or I’ll put you back in the fire!”
The words poured from Natram — zar. Now he would do anything to avoid the flames. “Nobody else… only Caldor… and his servant, Loki.
They approached me in the tavern… asked what I would do for gold, a lot of gold. He offered me… ten gold coins to kill her. I told him I’d need a horse… to escape, so he gave me twelve silver coins for that as well.”
“Where did you buy the horse? Who sold it to you?”
The wretched man mumbled the name of Zanar, a liveryman. “Send someone for him, Gatus. Hold him in the street outside and have him describe the man who bought the horse, when he bought it, and how much he paid.”
Esk kar turned back to the would — be assassin, who trembled uncontrollably. The smell of Natram — zar’s burning flesh hung in the air. “If the liveryman’s story differs from yours I’ll put every part of your body in the flames, piece by piece. Now tell me! Why did Caldor want Trella killed?”
“He said it was for the good of Orak. I don’t know why.” Natram — zar saw the black look on Esk kar’s face and screamed again. “I don’t know! I asked, but that’s all he would tell me. I swear it.” The man began to sob.
Esk kar had no doubt that he spoke the truth. “When did all this happen?” He had to shake the man hard to stop the sobbing. “Tell me the day and the hour!”
“Three days ago, Noble… in the tavern of Dadaius. I swear it. He gave me the gold and told me never speak to him again. Only Loki, when he brought the silver for the horse.”
Esk kar asked a few more questions. The man had lived in Orak for less than two months, avoiding the work gangs and living off his wits and his knife.
Leaving Natram — zar hanging there, Esk kar walked over to the nobles.
They looked ashen — faced after watching the torture, their fear plainly visible. Their guards remained in the street outside. The nobles were at Eskkar’s mercy. He could kill all of them, and no man would protest.
“Not pleasant to watch, is it, Nobles? A man tortured for information.
It’s easy to sit in a tavern and pay someone to murder, but not to watch death take a man. And it takes a special coward to pay for the murder of a woman.”
They flinched at his words, but he no longer cared what they thought of him. He stepped in front of Nicar. “Where is Caldor, Nicar?”
Nicar appeared incapable of speech, just shaking his head.
Esk kar turned to Sisuthros. “Find Caldor. If he’s not in the street outside, he’s probably at home. And the servant, Loki. Make sure you search Nicar’s house thoroughly. There may be hiding places within the walls or floors. Tear it down if you have to, but find him.”
Nicar tried to protest, stepping toward Esk kar, but Gatus shoved him back so hard that he bounced off the side of the house. “Stay where you are, Noble. Unless you wish to join your friend over there.”
Esk kar knew how fond Gatus was of Trella. The old soldier would be more than willing to kill anyone who’d tried to hurt her.
“Bantor, make sure nobody leaves the village, and keep the extra guards on the walls all night. I want a horse patrol to ride out first thing in the morning to run down whoever held the horse. We’ll get his name from Natram — zar. I want him caught. Have the trackers ride out at first light.”
“Well, Nobles,” Esk kar faced them again, “is there anyone else who knows anything about this among you?” He stood directly in front of Corio. “Answer me!”
“Captain, I swear I know nothing about this. I like Trella, you know that. I would never try to hurt her.”
Esk kar repeated the question before the others, getting the same answer, until he came to Nestor. “Well, Noble Nestor, what of you? Do you know anything about this?”
Nestor shook his head. “Captain, I know nothing about this. Nothing, I swear it by all the gods. I would never harm Trella.”
Staring into Nestor’s eyes and trying to read his thoughts, Esk kar felt tempted to believe him. The man hadn’t said anything to deny that he might bribe a man to kill the captain of the guard, but Trella was a different story.
Disgusted with them all, Esk kar stepped away. He wanted to think, and it would take a while before they found Caldor. He turned to his men.
“Keep them here. Gatus, come with me.”
Esk kar left the nobles standing there while he went into the house, Gatus following. Inside, he stopped and gripped the old soldier’s arm. “Watch them, Gatus. I don’t want any of them speaking to each other or sending messages to anyone. Have your men with them at all times.”
Gatus nodded and returned to watch over the nobles.
Inside the house, Esk kar found the big dining table cleared. The servants had finished washing it down, and now they scrubbed the blood from the floor. They looked up as Esk kar entered but his grim face turned their eyes quickly back to their work.
Esk kar ran up the stairs to the bedroom. Ventor and Annok — sur sat perched on stools on either side of the bed. To his surprise, Trella had regained consciousness. Her eyes turned to him.
Her guardians rose and left the room, leaving him alone with Trella.
Esk kar took Ventor’s place on the stool and picked up Trella’s hand, trying to keep his from shaking. “Are you in much pain?” He leaned down and kissed her cheek.
She smiled. Her voice sounded weak but steady. “It’s not so bad, husband. Now I know what a warrior feels from his wounds. Your hand shakes, Esk kar. Is something else wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong, Trella. We caught the man who did this. Just a common thief hired to do murder. Caldor paid him ten gold coins, plus a fine horse, to kill you. I should have killed both him and Nestor as soon as I returned to Orak.”
He shook his head in disgust at his failure. “We’re searching for Caldor, and we’ll find him soon. No man will risk hiding him, and the village is sealed.”
Her eyes closed for a moment, and her next words surprised him. “Poor Nicar, to endure this. He knew nothing of this, I’m sure. Don’t hurt Nicar, Esk kar. You need him.”
Esk kar shook his head. “This will cause a blood feud between us. Caldor dies tonight and Nicar will never forgive his death. Better that he and his family go the way of Drigo. No one in Orak cares. None will deny me my revenge.”
“We need men like Nicar and his son, Lesu. They’re good men and must not die over Caldor’s foolishness. Find some way to avoid killing Caldor.”
Her eyes closed before he could protest, but Esk kar knew she was thinking, so he waited, holding her hand.
She opened her eyes and began to speak. He had to lean closer to hear her words. When she finished, he looked at her. “It may not work, but I’ll try.”
A knock on the door made him look up. Ventor stood in the doorway.
“Let her sleep, Captain. She needs to rest now.”
Trella tried to speak, but Esk kar leaned down and kissed her lips gently. “Rest, as the healer commands. You’re safe now, and I’ll be with you soon.”
He left the chamber and went downstairs, turning into the kitchen and asking the cook for wine and something to eat. Esk kar sat on a stool at the small cutting table for a long time, ignoring the wine and the cheese placed before him. Everyone in the house feared to speak to him.
He remained there unmoving until cries from the courtyard announced Sisuthros had returned. Rising, he found Maldar and Bantor waiting outside the kitchen, standing silently in the main room.
“Did they find him?” was all Esk kar asked as they went out. In the torchlight, he saw Nicar on a stool someone had given him, his head slumped forward in his hands. Corio looked up, saw Esk kar in the doorway, and shook his head in disbelief.
The soldiers dragged two men toward him, their hands bound-Caldor and Loki.
Nicar’s younger son had blood on his face and a cut above his eye. Lo-ki’s face showed fear. A mere servant, he had no powerful father to protect him. The crowd’s hate would frighten anyone.
One of the soldiers grabbed Caldor and threw him to the ground, while another kicked the legs out from under Loki. Both twisted about in the dirt, trying to get back to their knees.
Sisuthros stepped forward, a grin on his face. “Here they are, Captain.
Caldor was hiding in a secret room in the cellar. Loki tried to get away over the back wall. Nicar’s guards tried to stop us from entering and I had to kill one.” Fresh blood stained Sisuthros’s arm and tunic.
Esk kar moved closer and looked down at the two men, his face expressionless.
Caldor saw his father held back by guards. “Father, help me! Don’t let them do this!”
“Bantor, take Caldor into the house,” said Esk kar. “Keep him quiet. If he makes a sound, break something.”
Bantor’s men grinned as they scooped Caldor up and dragged him into the house, one of them clapping a hand over his mouth to keep him silent.
Esk kar turned his attention to Loki, a man of thirty seasons who’d probably been Caldor’s servant from his youth. “Bring him around back.”
Soldiers dragged the terrified servant to the back of the house where Natram — zar still dangled from the tree, unconscious, blood oozing from his mouth. One of the soldiers had probably knocked the man out to stop the screaming.
Loki saw the man’s genitals burnt black and caught the smell of burning flesh that lingered in the air.
“Bring the nobles closer.” Esk kar waited until the five men approached, each escorted by one of Gatus’s men. Esk kar grabbed Loki by his hair and twisted it savagely so the servant stared directly at Natram — zar.
“Look closely, Loki. This is what awaits you, if you don’t speak the truth. We know what happened. Natram — zar told us everything. Now you’ll tell us everything you know about the attack on Trella. One hesitation, one lie, and we’ll put you in Natram — zar’s place, and you’ll suffer an even worse fate.” He pushed the man hard, and Loki fell to the ground.
“Look at me, Loki, and remember. One lie… one hesitation. Now, start at the beginning and tell me everything.”
Loki’s breath came fast, the shallow breathing of a man in great fear who can no longer control his emotions. He looked beseechingly at Nicar.
“Noble Nicar, please help me. I didn’t do anything. I just…”
“Strip him and tie him to the tree. Bring more wood for the fi re.” Eskkar wasn’t going to waste time with the servant, not with Caldor waiting inside. But Loki twisted free as the men tried to lift him and threw himself at Esk kar’s feet. “No, please, Noble! I’ll tell you everything, everything!..
I’m sorry!.. I’m sorry!”
Esk kar ignored his cries as the men cut Loki’s clothes off. Others untied Natram — zar, then fastened Loki in his place. Loki screamed when a soldier brought more fuel, dumping fresh coals on the fire.
The soldier fanned the embers with the shard until the flames rose up again. Then he picked up the bowl and moved it under Loki’s legs. Another man tossed more wood chips into the fire, as guards took position on either side of the helpless prisoner.
Loki cried out, then began to urinate uncontrollably as his body twitched from side to side. The flames hissed from the man’s piss, but kept burning. Loki’s eyes were wide with terror and his voice shrill with panic as he begged for mercy.
“Add more wood,” Esk kar ordered. “Make it burn hotter.”
“Caldor made me do it, Noble.” Loki’s voice sounded frantic. “It was Caldor. He paid Natram — zar ten gold pieces to kill her. He wanted her dead… he wanted her dead.”
The soldier looked up at Esk kar.
“Wait.”
In a broken voice, Loki’s story came out with scarcely any prompting.
The amount of gold, the silver for the horse, the meetings with Natram — zar in the tavern, Loki knew it all. The details matched the assassin’s story.
None could doubt it now. Caldor was guilty, and every man in the courtyard knew it. When Loki finished, he sagged against the ropes, tears running down his cheeks.
“Gag him, then bring out Caldor,” Esk kar ordered. “It’s time we heard his story.” When Bantor dragged Caldor from the house the soldiers let out a roar of curses as they demanded his death. The sound echoed against the walls, carrying to those crowding the street.
They dragged Caldor before Esk kar and again shoved him to his knees, his hands still tied behind him.
“Silence!” Esk kar roared, then waited until everyone quieted down. It became as quiet as death and his words carried throughout the courtyard.
“Caldor, we’ve spoken with Natram — zar and with Loki. They told us everything. About the gold, the horse, the plan. It’s all out in the open. Now it’s your turn to speak, or you’ll replace Loki on the tree. Tell me why you wanted to kill Trella.”
Caldor looked at his father, held upright by two guards, more to keep him from falling than to restrain him. “Father, this… it’s all lies! I did nothing, nothing. Tell them, father.” Caldor’s voice sounded high and shrill, like a child’s, as he realized for the fi rst time in his life that even his father might not save him.
Esk kar turned toward Nicar, who stood ashen — faced at the horror facing him. The mob and soldiers would demand his son’s death, and now Nicar must fear the same fate for himself and his House.
“Tell them, my son.” Nicar forced each word from his lips. “Tell them the truth and save yourself from the torture.”
“I didn’t do anything, Father, it must have been Loki who did it! He wanted Trella from when she was in our house. Loki… it was Loki!”
Strangled sounds came from the gagged Loki as he heard his young master blame him. Loki twisted and struggled, but the men and ropes held him fast.
Esk kar’s anger flared and he grasped Caldor by the hair. “Where did Loki get ten gold coins, Caldor? And twelve for the horse? Did Loki have that much gold, and would he spend it simply to see a woman die? Do you pay your servant that much?”
A sound of satisfaction went through the courtyard as the soldiers saw how easily their commander had caught Caldor in his lies.
“Please, Esk kar, please spare my son.” Nicar begged as his son knelt in the dirt, trying to find words to answer. “We’ll give you gold… leave Orak… do anything you want. Please spare his life, Noble Esk kar.”
Nicar had never used the honorific toward him before, but Esk kar ignored the words. “Should I spare his life so he can try again to kill Trella, or give more money to Sisuthros to betray me?”
A gasp went through the soldiers, all eyes turning to Sisuthros. “Yes, it’s true,” Esk kar went on. “Caldor gave another bag of gold to Sisuthros and promised more for my death. But Sisuthros came to me and told me about it. I should have killed Caldor, but I thought the young fool would learn his lesson and behave himself.”
While Esk kar spoke, Sisuthros reached into his belt and drew out the small pouch that contained Caldor’s gold. Opening it, he flung the coins in the dirt at Caldor’s feet.
Caldor’s terror was complete now. “Father, please! She’s only a slave!
Give him silver, no, gold to satisfy him!”
Nicar’s son knew the customs of the village. If a man injured another man’s slave, or even killed him, the usual penalty was ten silver coins. “He can buy ten women better than her! I can’t die over a slave! Please, father!
Please!..” His voice trailed off.
“You fool, Caldor!” Nicar, his face red with anger as he twisted helplessly in the guard’s arms, shouted the words at his son. “She’s not a slave! Esk kar freed her before he left the village, witnessed in secret before myself and Corio. They were married by the priest in Ishtar’s temple. She’s his wife!”
Everyone looked at Esk kar in astonishment
“Let him go,” Esk kar said to the guards holding Nicar’s arms.
Nicar stood there, swaying on his feet. Then he stepped forward and struck his son across the face, a hard blow that knocked him backward off his knees. “You foolish child! You’ve tried to kill a free woman, not a slave.”
Nicar struggled to catch his breath. He looked ready to collapse.
“Nicar.” Esk kar stepped toward him. The soldiers waited for the order that would slay Caldor and his father. “Nicar, you’ve shown nothing but respect for me and Trella. I gave you my word to defend Orak because I saw how much the village means to you. So I’ll spare your life, even the life of your foolish son.”
Esk kar glanced around at the soldiers, who listened in shock to his words. “Instead, I’ll leave Orak. If the Families want to get rid of me so badly, I’ll save them the trouble. As soon as Trella can ride, we’re leaving Orak. You can defeat the barbarians yourself, or not. It will mean nothing to me. If any wish to follow me, they are welcome.”
He turned toward Bantor. “Release Nicar’s child,” he said scornfully, then turned again to face Nicar. “Now go. Take your gold and hope by all the gods that I never see your son again.”
Bantor didn’t move. No one moved. No one said anything as the moments passed by. Even Nicar stood frozen, until Caldor’s voice broke the spell.
“Yes, Father, yes! Take me home. Let the barbarian go! Let him go!”
Gatus slapped his hand on his sword. “By Marduk, I’ll go with you! I’ll not fight for cowards who would stab a woman in the back. But first I’ll take care of this little shit.” He pulled the weapon from its sheath and stepped toward Caldor.
Esk kar blocked Gatus. “No. Put your sword away.”
Bantor spoke. “I, too, will go with you.” He stepped past Esk kar and used his foot to push Caldor back down. “And any of the men who want to fight.”
Sisuthros joined in, and his voice rose up over all the others. “We’ll all go! We don’t need Orak. We can build our own village to the west with Esk kar as our leader. Better to build and battle for our own than to fight for cowards and murderers.”
A roar of assent went up, echoing off the courtyard walls into the night sky. Swords flashed in the torchlight. The men called out Esk kar or Trella’s name, others shouted “death to Caldor.”
Outside the courtyard, men took up the cry. Dozens had listened from the edge of the garden, hanging over the top of the wall to see and hear what went on. But others joined in, repeating the shouts from the courtyard, without fully understanding what had happened.
Esk kar stood there. He could scarcely believe what he heard. Never had he seen such emotion, such loyalty. No leader, no war chief, no village noble had ever been cheered like this. Right now, these men would follow him anywhere, do anything he said. He could lead a migration of his own. With nearly four hundred fighting men, they could go where they pleased and take what they wanted. This was power-suddenly he understood-real power, not the kind that one buys with gold. And he realized something else-that he ruled in Orak now. The soldiers and the villagers had given him the power.
Another voice had risen up, trying to be heard over the din. Corio pushed away from his guard and the master builder raised his arms high, asking to speak. Esk kar bellowed over the shouting, demanding silence.
It took time before it was quiet enough for Corio’s words to be heard.
“Soldiers! Villagers! Listen, I beg you! Esk kar must not go. You must not go! You need not go! The customs of Orak condemn Caldor, not the hand of Esk kar. His evil deed sentences him to death for attempting to kill a free woman. Is that not so, Nobles?”
Corio turned sharply toward the heads of the other Families still clustered together, dread visible on their faces. “Is that not so?” Corio shouted the question at the top of his lungs, his anger and fear putting force into his words. “Answer me!”
Rebba stepped forward, his eyes darting nervously around the courtyard: “Death to Caldor!” The phrase was repeated by Decca, then Nestor “Death to Caldor.”
Only Nicar remained, staring down at his son, until Corio’s hand gripped Nicar’s shoulder and shook him hard, forcing him to lift his eyes.
He stared dully at Corio, as if he didn’t even recognize him.
“Death to Caldor.” Nicar’s words could barely be heard.
The courtyard erupted. Swords flashed in the torchlight and everyone screamed the words, “Death to Caldor!” over and over.
Again Corio held up his hands for silence. “All have agreed. Take him to the market and stone him to death. Take all of them. Walk them through the streets and proclaim their guilt to everyone. Let Lady Trella be avenged. Let the women stone them.”
A deafening roar burst from the crowd.
“Wait. Let me speak.” Esk kar’s words stopped the soldiers before they rushed off. “Do you want me to stay and fight the barbarians?”
Another roar went up, repeated from the street, “Stay!.. Stay
… Stay!”
They repeated the words without ceasing.
The soldiers went wild now. Their bloodlust had spread to the crowd in the street. Nothing would stop them.
Esk kar turned and jerked Caldor to his feet. He had to shout to make himself heard, his face close to the boy’s blanching face. “You’ll die slowly, Caldor, as you deserve, and when you’re dead, I’ll place your head at Trella’s feet, right here in this garden. You should have listened to your father.”
Two Hawk Clan soldiers pulled Caldor out of Esk kar’s hands. Other soldiers cut Natram — zar down from the tree and dragged a screaming Loki toward the gate.
“Gatus! Make sure it’s done right. Then bring me his head. I promised it to Trella.”
“No! Mercy! Father, help me!”
Gatus shoved Caldor into the hands of his men, the action unleashing another roar to the heavens. Half pushed, half dragged, they led Caldor through the courtyard. Many took the opportunity to strike at his head or shoulders. Another roar went up as they reached the street. The crowd screamed for his death.
In moments the courtyard had emptied itself. Esk kar heard the crowd’s progress as it began the journey down the streets of Orak. The victims would be shown to all. Looking around, Esk kar found himself alone. No one had stayed behind. All wanted to see the men die.
Esk kar trod back into the house and found that empty, too. Even the servants had joined the mob, screaming for blood and wanting to see the execution. He thought about going up to see how Trella was doing but decided to wait awhile. Emotionally drained, he went into the kitchen and sank tiredly back onto the stool. He felt weak. The wine and cheese remained on the table, untouched.
Draining the wine, Esk kar refilled the cup. He forced himself to take a bite of the goat cheese, which he could hardly taste and barely swallow.
He managed as best he could. Caldor would die, though not as slowly or painfully as Esk kar wanted. There might be a chance to make peace with Nicar.
Esk kar had learned a hard lesson, one he would never forget. From now on, anyone who plotted against him would die quickly. He’d never give any man such an opportunity again. Like a fool, he’d thought the danger to himself gone when he returned to Orak, with the barbarians only weeks away. Instead, Caldor had struck at Trella.
Esk kar thought of his woman lying upstairs. Now everyone knew she’d been freed, that he’d taken her for his wife. Despite her objections, he’d insisted on freeing her and marrying her before he left. She would act the slave no longer. He was glad of that.