Eskkar strode out of the house and into the market, his subcommanders trailing behind him. The rest of his men waited there, all regular duties forgotten. One glance at their leaders’ grim faces warned them that bad news was coming.
“Sisuthros. Are all the men here? Everyone?”
“Except for those posted at the gates.”
“Get them. I want everyone to hear the news.” Better they should hear it from him, rather than picking it up in bits and pieces from each other.
It took only moments. The men guarding the gates arrived at a run, bunching up along with the rest of the troop that had marched here from Akkad. Even the scribes and merchants waited to hear Eskkar’s words.
Eskkar stepped to the nearest merchant’s cart, and climbed onto it, letting his eyes sweep the gathering. “You know what happened here last night. This morning word came that Bantor has been ambushed, and half his men killed. It may be that some enemy has seized control of Akkad.”
His words shocked them into silence. He went on before the questions could start.
“I’m taking forty men with me to Akkad, all volunteers. I intend to kill whoever started this. The rest of you will stay here with Sisuthros, and…”
Shouts rose up, everyone speaking. They all wanted to go.
“Silence!” Eskkar put all the force he could into the word. “Listen to me, men. I know you all want to go. But you can’t. First of all, there aren’t enough boats. And I’m only taking men who can swim. The rest of you will have to stay here and fortify the village. There may be more attacks here, and the villagers will need your protection. Sisuthros and Hamati will be staying in Bisitun, and will need your help.”
“But what about my family?” The voice came from one of the younger archers. “My wife and…”
“The men I bring with me will protect all your families, I promise you that. You’ll have to trust them as you’ve always trusted each other. They won’t fail you. And I pledge that we will do everything we can. You’ve trusted me before. Don’t fail me now, when I need your loyalty and courage.”
Groans of disappointment filled the market as the men realized that some would have to stay behind. Eskkar let the rumblings go on for a few moments, then raised his hand.
“Whatever has happened in Akkad will be dealt with, I swear it,” Eskkar said. “Our city will not fall into an enemy’s hands.”
A shout of approval echoed around the square.
“The time for talk is over,” he said. “Now it’s time to avenge Bantor’s dead and rescue our kin. The faster we can get started, the sooner we’ll reach the city. Are you with me?”
A roar of assent followed his words, and for a moment Eskkar thought five hundred men had answered him, and the clamor continued until he held up both hands.
“Then let’s begin. Sisuthros, secure the boats and crews. Hamati, start gathering supplies. Mitrac, see to the weapons. Grond, find out who can swim and who knows the river. Drakis, get what we need from the villagers. Start moving!”
Soldiers and villagers worked like slaves for the rest of the morning.
Eskkar and his commanders selected the men who would accompany him, a process that took longer than he expected because a few soldiers tried to claim they could swim. Everyone wanted to join him and recapture Akkad.
To his surprise, many of the soldiers had lived on and around the river for most of their lives, and more than a few knew how to swim.
Obtaining the boats proved more difficult. Even for gold, two boat owners refused to help, and Sisuthros simply commandeered their boats.
In the end Sisuthros selected six boats. Each vessel would need a crew of two, and could carry at least half a dozen men, plus their equipment.
Crewmen utilized every rope and cord they could find in Bisitun, to lash down swords, knives, sandals, food, anything that could be lost. That way, even if the boat capsized, a not unexpected event, the food and weapons would be secure.
Mitrac ordered the bows coated with grease, then wrapped in rags and bound with cords. A short immersion in the water wouldn’t weaken them too much. The master archer packed all the bowstrings into two small clay jars, then sealed them with plenty of wax and bundled them with blankets and straw, much the way the traders shipped beer or wine. The jars, too, were fastened down throughout the craft, in the safest and most secure places. The bowstrings had to be kept dry at all cost. If they got wet, it would take most of a day to dry them out, and the bows would be useless during that time. A little water wouldn’t hurt the arrows, Mitrac decided.
Nevertheless, they stored them in jars as well, though they didn’t bother sealing these as tightly.
All this took time. The village square and the docks looked like a ser-pents’ pit with everyone scurrying around. Lani organized the women to cook as much food as possible. Every chicken they could lay their hands on ended up on a spit, and the aroma of roasting meat wafted throughout the dockside. The men would eat a big meal before they left and have more to take with them. The women fired up the morning ovens once again and began baking more bread. Lani supervised the collection of fruits, dates, and any other edible items that wouldn’t be ruined by water, gathered them together, and sent them to the boats.
Counting Eskkar, Grond, and Alexar, thirty-nine men assembled at the jetty, ready to board. Eskkar mustered all those selected. “Quiet now,” he ordered. “Yavtar will speak to you. Listen carefully to what he says.”
Yavtar owned two of the boats, and would command one of them.
Sisuthros had dealt with the ship owner turned trader several times during the last month, and suggested Yavtar be put in charge of the whole expedition. A big man, with thick arms from years of handling an oar, Yavtar pushed his way into the center of the Akkadians. He had dirty blond hair tied at the back of his neck, and wore nothing but a skirt and a belt holding a knife. When he spoke, his deep voice carried across the docks.
“You men are going on my boats,” he began, “and you’ll follow my orders exactly. Anyone who doesn’t will find themselves swimming. My orders, remember that, not Lord Eskkar’s, not anyone else’s. On the river, you’ll answer only to me.” He paused to stare at Eskkar, who nodded agreement.
“All these boats will be heavily loaded,” Yavtar continued, “and I don’t want some fool tipping one over. No one is to move without asking permission of the boat captain. All of you will be given paddles, and you’ll be expected to use them. Your lord here,” Yavtar pointed to Eskkar with his thumb, “has promised me a bonus if I get all of you to Akkad as soon as possible. So you’ll paddle when I tell you, you’ll sleep where, when, and if I tell you, and you will not move about unless I tell you.”
Yavtar turned back to Eskkar. “Is that as we’ve agreed, Lord Eskkar?”
Eskkar raised up his voice. “All of us will do what we’re told by the boat captains. Obey them as you would me. We want to get to Akkad as soon as possible.”
Yavtar glanced at the sun, already approaching its high point, then turned to his men, who stood lined up against the water’s edge. “Get the men onboard,” he ordered, and walked off. The embarkation of the soldiers began. The boatmen had already stowed and lashed down the food and weapons.
Eskkar felt a hand on his arm and turned to find Lani there. “Lord Eskkar, take this with you. You may want it later.”
The basket held more food, collected at the last moment. Eskkar hadn’t spoken to her since early morning. Taking her hand, he led her away from the jetty. The sounds of activity rose up all around them, but no one paid any attention to the couple.
“Lani,” he began, “I don’t know what will happen at Akkad. But I’ll send for you as soon as I can. Otherwise, Sisuthros will make sure you’re cared for, and…”
Lani shook her head. “Eskkar, you needn’t worry about me. Secure your wife’s safety. She needs you now. Do what you must. I’ll wait for your summons.”
He pulled her to him for a moment, felt her hands go around his back as she pressed herself to him. Then he stepped back and met her wet eyes.
“I will take care of you, Lani, for as long as you want me to. Remember that. You have my word.”
He turned and returned to the boats. Yavtar stood waiting for him, and the sailor extended his hand to guide Eskkar down into a rocking craft, the largest of the six vessels.
“Can you swim, Lord Eskkar?”
“Well enough,” Eskkar said, grateful for the skill learned as a boy. “But I prefer to do my swimming near the riverbank, not out in the current.”
“Then I’ll make sure we only capsize near the shore,” Yavtar said with a laugh.
With Eskkar aboard and seated, Yavtar took one last check to ensure that the heavily loaded craft rode evenly in the water. He took his position at the stern, and gave orders to those still standing on the docks. The boatman at the prow cast loose the last of the ropes, and coiled it back into the boat, even as the men left behind waded into the water, pushing the boat out into the river’s current. Eskkar breathed a sigh of relief: under way at last.
Half the men with Eskkar had some experience with boats, another quality Sisuthros searched for while sorting out those who would go.
These men, at Yavtar’s order, began paddling, using slow and even strokes.
Yavtar’s crewman hauled up the small sail the vessel carried amidships, grunting until he’d raised the heavy linen to its full extent before lashing it in place.
Gradually the boat began to speed up as it edged into the middle of the river. “We’ll be safer here, “Yavtar explained, “where the current is swiftest. There aren’t many rapids between Bisitun and Akkad, and it’s easier to control the boat.”
Once in the center of the channel, they glided along, and Eskkar reckoned the pace to be equivalent to a horse’s fast walk. Glancing behind, he saw the other five boats strung out, each raising its own sails.
Yavtar spent plenty of time inspecting the sail and gauging the trim of the boat, moving the men around slightly, and showing them how and when to row. The experienced rivermen didn’t need the lesson, but no one said anything. Yavtar didn’t trust any of them to hold on to a paddle. He made sure a rope fastened each oar to the boat.
By the end of the first hour, they began to settle down. Everyone soon learned not to make any rapid movements, and if one man had to change positions, the others held still. To Eskkar’s relief, the boat seemed stable enough, and he gradually stopped worrying about capsizing. The desul-tory wind blew from the north, helping to push the boats downstream, and they cut through the water at a steady pace.
Though the boat held nine men, it carried little cargo, so the craft responded well to Yavtar’s handling. With everyone paddling, even with light strokes, the boat fairly flew along, picking up more speed when helped by the wind, which held steady until sundown. Then it changed direction, and Yavtar ordered the sail lowered.
Eskkar opened his mouth, then shut it again.
Yavtar saw the look. “It’s too dangerous at night, Captain,” he explained, a little more talkative now that he knew the soldiers could follow orders. “Hard to see rocks or anything else floating in the water. We would have lowered it anyway. We’ll paddle easy until moonrise.”
Eskkar grunted a little at that news. By now he knew that even light strokes moved the boat at a good pace. He learned to use a smooth, feathering stroke that took little effort. The paddling served as much to guide the boat and keep it centered in the river as to move it along.
When the moon rose, Yavtar picked up the pace. “I’ve never sailed through a whole night before, Lord Eskkar. It’ll be interesting to see how much river we can cover by dawn.”
In the moonlight, Eskkar could scarcely make out the boat behind them, still keeping its station and holding its distance. He hoped the other boats followed behind, all at their proper intervals.
Whether he rowed or rested, Eskkar kept his thoughts fixed on Akkad.
The possibility that Trella might be dead kept disturbing his thoughts, filling him with anger and anguish. He remembered the fear that had numbed him when she’d been stabbed in the street. She had almost died that day.
He remembered how he’d turned away as the healer dressed her wound, unable to watch her suffering.
At least then he could turn his thoughts to vengeance. Now he faulted his own actions for whatever might have befallen her. Eskkar had over-stayed his trip to Bisitun. He’d taken his pleasure with Lani, with hardly a thought to Trella, her well-being, or even the coming child. Whatever fate had befallen her, it would not have happened if he had returned earlier.
Instead he’d postponed his return again and again, telling himself Trella had everything under control, that he could do more good in Bisitun. Staring down at the river, he blamed himself for whatever evil had arisen, his thoughts as black as the parting water.
Grond must have known what thoughts troubled his leader. “Captain, there was nothing you could have done. The assassins left Akkad ten days ago. If we’d been in Akkad, if four men suddenly attacked you in the street, we might both be dead. Staying in Bisitun may have saved your life.”
“And what of Trella? I don’t know if she’s alive or dead. I just hope she’s still safe.”
“What you should be thinking about is how this plot came about,”
Grond countered. “How did this happen without Trella’s spies learning of it? Who could put such a plan together, gather enough men, ambush Bantor, and send assassins after you? None of the messengers, including the Hawk Clan riders, had mentioned even a rumor of a problem.”
Those same thoughts had plagued Eskkar. “It takes gold to bring that many men together, even with such a prize as Akkad at stake. I know of no one in Akkad who could devise such a plan.”
“And I don’t think anyone in Akkad could do this without some word getting to Lady Trella,” Grond offered. “Perhaps it’s this Ariamus. Who is he?”
He told Grond about Ariamus and the gloomy days in Akkad before the Alur Meriki. Grond grunted when Eskkar finished, but said nothing.
Nevertheless, talking it all over with Grond helped clear Eskkar’s mind. For perhaps the first time since the attack last night, he started thinking clearly.
He kept paddling, the slow, deep strokes occupying his muscles and soothing his mind, while he began running what little he knew in his head.
Bantor attacked on the road, a few hours from reaching Akkad. That would destroy any organized force of soldiers outside the city. Assassins trying to kill him in Bisitun. Eskkar’s death would certainly have disrupted the soldiers, and might have slowed down any response to word of trouble in Akkad. So someone wanted to keep soldiers away from the city, no doubt while they consolidated their control. His death, even the ambush of Bantor’s men, meant nothing without taking power in the city.
And Grond spoke the truth. Little went on in Akkad that Trella didn’t learn of sooner or later. Ariamus wouldn’t dare show his face in the city.
Despite the former captain of the guard’s fi ghting skills, he wasn’t capable of outwitting Trella. Ariamus, Eskkar decided, would need an ally inside the city, someone who could put together a grand scheme to seize power over the thousands that now lived there. That meant there must be someone else in Akkad, a disgruntled noble or wealthy merchant, even possibly a newcomer. Eskkar swore under his breath. He needed more information.
“There is nothing to do now, Captain,” Grond said, hearing the curse,
“except get to Bantor and Rebba. They’ll tell us what’s been going on.”
So Grond had come to the same conclusion.
“We’ll need to be careful, Grond, when we get to Rebba’s place. There might be a trap. Bantor and his men might have been captured days ago and put to the torture.”
Yavtar called out from the stern, telling them to take a break. Eskkar lifted the wet paddle and rested it across his knees. He wanted to keep rowing, to not waste a moment in delay, but the others needed their rest.
The boat kept moving, gliding with the current, every moment bringing him closer to Akkad.
The night passed quickly enough. When the men didn’t row, they slept at the oars. Eskkar checked his wound several times, but noticed no signs of bleeding. The pain had gone, though the arm felt stiff and sore.
Dawn found them many miles downstream from Bisitun. When Yavtar worked out how much they had traveled, he smiled for the first time since the voyage began. “We’re doing well, lord,” he announced. “More important, we haven’t capsized, lost any paddles, or drowned anyone, at least not yet. Your men aren’t bad sailors. I think we can pick up the pace, after the men have eaten.”
They ate without leaving their positions, hunks of dry sausage washed down with water scooped directly from the river. Bread completed the meal. Yavtar slowed the boat and waited until all the other craft had caught up with his. After checking with the other shipmasters, he shouted out some incomprehensible orders about how much faster they would travel today, his voice booming over the river. He ordered the sail raised, and the men back to their paddles.
Eskkar scarcely noticed the extra effort demanded by Yavtar, but the boat moved much more rapidly. The morning sun brought a slight but steady breeze from the east, so they quartered the sail in the wind’s direction, and that alone would have kept them going at a good pace. With six men working the oars, the boat appeared to move twice as fast as yesterday afternoon, the water curling noisily from its prow. He asked Yavtar about their speed, wondering if they could move even faster.
“Not likely, lord,” Yavtar answered, sitting back in the stern with the steering oar under his arm. “Everyone will be tired enough by the end of the day at this pace, I promise you. Better pray the gods don’t shift the wind any further, or it will hold us back instead of pushing us along.”
To keep his mind occupied, Eskkar studied the wind, noticing how Yavtar’s sailor kept adjusting the sail to meet the breeze. By noon, Eskkar thought he had the knack of it, and could have handled the sail himself, even without Yavtar’s orders.
The midday sun slackened the wind. Yavtar began eying the riverbank, searching for landmarks, until he found what he sought. A small island appeared near the west bank, with two poplar trees growing on it. Yavtar turned his rudder and put the boat directly into a sand spit that hissed beneath Eskkar as the boat ground to halt. The sudden cessation of movement felt unnatural after being in constant motion for over a day. Before Eskkar could question the delay, Yavtar spoke.
“We’ll rest here while I check the other boats, and rearrange our cargo.
We can all stretch our legs.”
One by one, the other boats beached themselves on the soft sand as they pulled alongside Yavtar’s craft. As soon as the men settled onshore, Yavtar called the boat captains together and spoke with each of them.
When he finished, the boatmen went into the water, checking the hulls for leaks, tipping each craft from one side to the other to inspect all they could see. Afterward, Yavtar made sure each boat captain had what he needed, and understood his orders.
As soon as his men had checked the boats and made any needed repairs, Yavtar ordered the food unpacked. The constant labor in the fresh air had given all of them a huge appetite, and they devoured nearly half their food. After they fi nished eating, they had to wait until the sailors rearranged the goods and weapons, lashing everything securely. Only then did the soldiers climb back aboard the boats, to take their carefully arranged positions. With a single grunt, Yavtar ordered them downstream.
“We’ve had our big meal for the day, lord,” Yavtar said a little later, still chewing on a piece of bread. “Supper tonight will be day-old bread as we row, and we’ll try to keep this pace.”
“How far have we come, Yavtar?” Eskkar asked.
“Farther than I thought we could. Your men have strong backs, I’ll say that for them. I always wondered how fast a trip could be made by sailing through the night, but I never thought I’d make such a voyage. Too risky for the cargo.” He laughed at that thought, but then lapsed into silence.
The land on either side of them flowed steadily by, and those on the land took little if any notice of their passage. A handful of farmers paused to stare at them with open mouths, and once some shepherds tending a small flock of sheep ran along the riverbank, calling out greetings and shouting in excitement as the ships glided by. Those on the shore had probably never seen so many boats passing at one time. Nevertheless, except for some women gathering water or washing clothes, not many people labored at the river’s edge. Eskkar tried to see the trail that paralleled the river, but in most locations, it ran nearly half a mile away.
Hopefully, Eskkar told himself, no travelers journeying on horseback would pay much attention to their passage. If someone saw them, by the time the tale could be told, the boats would be far down the Tigris, moving faster than any horse.
They didn’t stop again until dusk. Yavtar used the last of the day’s light to beach his boat once again, this time on the eastern bank. While he inspected the craft, Eskkar checked the casks that held the bowstrings, to make sure the seals looked dry and tight. One of the smaller boats had capsized earlier in the afternoon, after brushing against some rocks; the men had righted it soon enough, and managed to catch up with the others, none the worse for the experience. Other than that, no mishaps had occurred.
“Make sure the men finish the food, Grond,” Eskkar ordered. There’d be plenty to eat at Rebba’s farm. Either that, or they’d be fighting for their lives.
They ate in silence. This time Eskkar and the others forced themselves to swallow as much of the food as they could. They might be fighting before they got to eat again, and only a few loaves of bread remained when the men reboarded the crafts. They hadn’t stopped for longer than needed, and darkness again covered the river as they pushed off. This time Yavtar slackened the pace at the oars a bit. The river narrowed somewhat as they drew closer to Akkad, and the current speeded up. Still, Eskkar felt his arms aching from the constant strain.
They rowed steadily, picking up the pace again when the moon rose and Yavtar raised the sail. The boat captain kept his crewman attending to the sail, ready to drop it to the deck should any problem arise. They rowed for nearly four hours before Yavtar called for another break; this time he moved down the boat to squat next to Eskkar.
“Lord, I think we’re a little more than three hours from Rebba’s jetty.
If nothing goes wrong, you’ll be ashore not long after midnight. That should give you enough time to rest and stretch your limbs.”
“My thanks to you, Yavtar. I still cannot believe we covered so much distance so quickly. It would have taken days on the road to reach Akkad.”
Yavtar’s teeth flashed in the moonlight. “I’ve enjoyed the trip more than you know. I always wanted to race the river, and you’ve given me the chance, and paid me for it as well. In less than two days, we’ve covered nearly a hundred and thirty miles. No man, no river captain has ever accomplished such a thing.”
“You’ve made me think about using the river to move men in the future, Yavtar. I’ll not forget what I’ve seen and learned on this trip.”
The boat captain focused his attention on the river for a few moments, and Eskkar thought the conversation ended.
“Lord Eskkar,” Yavtar said, “when you go ashore, I want to come with you.”
Eskkar blinked in surprise. “I thought you planned to return to Bisitun. We’ll be fighting for our lives at Akkad.”
“I was going to, but I’ve changed my mind.” Yavtar grunted, as if surprised at his own decision. “In my years, I’ve seen more bandits, brigands, robbers, and thieves up and down the length of the Tigris than you could imagine. Sometimes I ferried them from place to place, and I fought them off more than once. But your soldiers are different. I’ve watched you and your men for the last two days. They show no fear, no doubt. They don’t brag about what they’ve done or what they’ll do. They follow your orders without thinking or worrying about the danger.”
“They’re good men,” Eskkar answered, trying to understand the meaning behind Yavtar’s words. “And they’re well trained. Perhaps that is the difference.”
“Yes, perhaps. But you trained them, didn’t you, and gave them a home and a clan. That’s why I think you’ll win at Akkad, Captain, no matter what the odds. And that’s why I want to fi ght with you. I think I want to be part of your victory. And it would be nice to have a clan of my own, for when I get too old to ride the river.”
Eskkar considered the man’s words for a moment. Yavtar didn’t look much older than himself, so the sailor could be sailing the Tigris for many more years. Still, every man wanted a home somewhere, a place of safety to raise his family and spend his declining years. “I welcome you to the fight, Yavtar,” Eskkar said, using what he thought of as his formal voice,
“the Hawk Clan always needs good men.”
“Thank you, Lord Eskkar.” He moved back toward the stern. “Keep rowing, men. We don’t want to lose any time.”
True to his word, before three hours had passed, Yavtar started guiding the boat closer to the eastern bank. He ordered the pace slackened, and the other boats soon caught up with them, staying just far enough apart to avoid a collision.
Eskkar wondered how Yavtar could be certain of their location.
The deeper darkness of the land looked the same to him, even with the moon up. Moments later, Yavtar angled the boat toward the riverbank.
Eskkar still couldn’t see anything, and Yavtar’s mate had caught the jetty before Eskkar even saw it. Both Yavtar and the crewman slipped over the side into the river, ropes in their hands, and lashed the craft tightly to the jetty.
The jetty had room for only the one vessel; two small boats, no doubt belonging to Rebba, occupied the remaining space. So the other craft moved carefully alongside, until men could push them ashore, struggling in the current to move the now-clumsy boats as far up onto the bank as possible. The moment each ship came to rest, men with their gear climbed carefully over the side and started moving inshore, until every man had landed. Grond slipped away first, and had already moved inland. For a big man, he could move without a sound when need be. All the men from Eskkar’s boat followed, armed only with their swords, and fading into the darkness, to make sure no one lurked in ambush.
Eskkar swore at the noise they made. The men stumbled about in the dark. He hoped the river muffled the sounds, and maybe the din wouldn’t be heard above the normal bubbling of the flowing water. At last everyone stood on firm ground once again, though now it felt strange enough to Eskkar’s shaky legs.
The boat crews passed out the bows, all bundled together, and then handed out the jars containing the bowstrings. Eskkar cursed again as the sound echoed out over the river. He felt certain they could be heard all the way to Akkad.
At last all the weapons had landed. The soldiers spread out, all the men stringing their bows and readying their arrows and swords. By then Grond returned.
“Captain, nothing suspicious. I went as close as I dared. Any closer and I would have awakened the dogs. But there was nothing.”
“No sentries, no guards, no horses?”
“No, no horses except the three or four that Rebba would have in his corral.”
“Well, we’ll have to chance it. I’ll go ahead and see what…”
“No, Captain,” Grond interrupted. “I’ve thought about this. Let’s send Alexar, and have him approach as if he came from Akkad. If all’s well, he can report back to us. If not, we can still use the boats.”
Eskkar bit his lip. Grond spoke the truth. Eskkar’s old instincts made him want to rush ahead, but Grond and the others wouldn’t let him go, and there was no sense arguing over it.
“I’m ready to go, Captain,” Alexar whispered. He had seen Grond come back and stepped over to join them. “I’ll know if there’s anything wrong. I’ll bring Bantor back with me.”
“You know about the dogs?” Eskkar asked. “The dogs will start barking as soon as they hear you.”
“Yes. It can’t be helped,” Alexar answered. “But they’d waken anyway, so we might as well get it over with. The sound won’t carry to the next farmhouse.”
“Be careful,” Eskkar said, putting his hand on Alexar’s arm. The moment the words left his mouth he swore at himself for wasting his breath; no one needed any orders to take care. He watched them disappear into the darkness, Grond leading the way, to show Alexar the location of the road and the farmhouse.
Clenching his fist at the inaction, Eskkar moved forward, until he could make out the cluster of buildings that made up Rebba’s farmstead.
Moments later, the dogs began barking. The noise went on and on, for what seemed like far too long, before a light appeared in the window of the main house. But the glow went out almost immediately, and the dogs stopped their challenge. After what seemed like a lifetime, he saw two men looming in the darkness, heading toward the jetty.
Still worried about an ambush, Eskkar squinted against the darkness, looking for any other movement, his hand resting on his sword hilt. Relief flooded over him when he heard a familiar voice call out. Then Bantor rushed the last few steps and wrapped his arms around Eskkar, hugging him tight and pounding on his back.
“Thank the gods, Captain, but I’m glad to see you. Let’s move up to the house.”
With Alexar and Bantor leading the way, Eskkar gave the orders and started the soldiers moving toward the farmhouse. They went in single file, to leave as little trace of their passing as possible. The dogs barked a few more times, nervous at the approach of so many men. Eskkar heard voices, no doubt Rebba’s farmers, chiding the watchdogs to keep silent, and keeping them away from the soldiers’ approach.
Bantor guided his captain and Grond to the main house, while Alexar led the rest to another building. When the door opened, Eskkar saw that a small lamp burned. Heavy leather strips covered the windows and prevented the light from showing.
Rebba stood there, waiting. He had already sent the rest of his family to the other house. Inside, Rebba motioned them to the benches at the big table, lighting a second lamp, a larger one that provided plenty of light, though it smoked quite a bit. Rebba sat at one end, while Eskkar sat at the other. By then Mitrac, Alexar, and Klexor had joined them and, to Eskkar’s surprise, Yavtar. The sailor had followed silently behind the soldiers. Eskkar noticed that Yavtar had laced sandals on his usually bare feet, and carried a short sword at his waist.
“Is Trella all right?” Eskkar had to know, though he dreaded what he might hear.
“She’s alive, a prisoner in your house,” Rebba answered.
Eskkar felt relief wash over him. He still had time to save her.
“How many men have you brought, Lord Eskkar?”
Rebba’s voice sounded frail, but the urgency of his question took Eskkar’s mind off Trella.
One of Rebba’s daughters came into the house, carrying a fresh jug of water. She began pouring it, looking nervously about the table, as the men eased themselves down, shoulder to shoulder, around the table.
“Thirty-nine, no, forty now, counting me, Noble Rebba,” Eskkar answered. He saw the looks of disappointment on Rebba and Bantor’s faces.
“We came by riverboat, and it would have taken us another three or four days to march here with more men.”
Rebba shook his head. “You don’t have enough soldiers. There are many men inside Akkad who now follow Korthac.” He saw the question on Eskkar’s face. “Ah, yes. You don’t know the man. He came less than a week after you left for Dilgarth.” He looked at Bantor for a moment. “Perhaps we should start when you left Akkad.”
Eskkar held his tongue as much as possible, resisting the urge to interrupt with questions. The telling of the events took nearly an hour, with Rebba speaking of what had happened in the city, and then Bantor describing the ambush on the road. Rebba fi nished with what had happened since.
“So now,” Rebba said as he wound up his tale, “the forty or so soldiers still alive are used as slaves, and kept under guard at the old barracks.
Korthac’s men, and now he has close to two hundred of them, terrorize the villagers. There have been many rapes and much looting. Any that resist are killed horribly in the marketplace. All the merchants and craftsmen must pay a tax just to stay alive and remain in business.” He looked across the flickering lamp at Eskkar. “You must gather more men, then find a way to drive them out.”
“I intend to do that, Rebba,” Eskkar said. “But you haven’t seen Trella?”
“No, but she is in her room, with Annok-sur, giving birth.” Rebba saw the look on Eskkar’s face and realized he had left something out. “Lady Trella went into labor this afternoon. I don’t know how…”
“Trella is well, you say?”
“Yes, that’s what I heard today,” Rebba replied. “But we hear only rumors from the servants. Trella and Annok-sur are confined to the upper rooms of your home. Korthac uses the outer room during the day, but sleeps downstairs at night. He has taken a few young boys and girls as bedmates, they say.”
“I don’t care who he sleeps with,” Eskkar said, his hands clenching into fists. “He’ll be dead as soon as I get my hands on his throat.”
“It won’t be easy, Eskkar.” Rebba shook his head. “The gates are heavily guarded and the walls are patrolled day and night, as much to keep the people in as intruders out.”
Bantor rapped his fist on the table. “We just need to get inside, Captain. Ariamus’s men spend their nights in the alehouses, drinking their fill.
We’ll kill them easy enough. My men have practiced each day with bow and sword.”
“You said Gatus is in hiding with Tammuz?”
“Yes. Rebba’s men found him there two days ago,” Bantor said. “Gatus sent three men out here as soon as he learned we were here.”
“What else did he say?” Eskkar knew Gatus well enough.
“Two days ago, he sent word that Tammuz has been watching the sentries. Gatus says that Butcher’s Lane is the way in. He’ll help us, if we send word.”
Eskkar smiled at that. Butcher’s Lane was where, during the siege, the Alur Meriki had almost carried the wall in a night attack. He’d considered using the same location to scale the wall on the journey downriver. But there was no time to send word. They could be discovered at any moment.
He counted the men he had at his command. “So we have your twenty men, Bantor, and my thirty-nine. That gives us…”
“Sixty-two men, Captain,” Yavtar broke in before Eskkar could complete the sum in his head. “That includes me, and two of my boatmen, willing to gamble their miserable lives for a fistful of gold. The rest will stay with the boats, in case we need them. I told you I intend to fight with you. I know how to swing a sword.”
“I’m sure you do, Yavtar,” Eskkar said, then he stopped for a moment.
He had been struggling with ideas about how to get into Akkad, how to climb the wall. He doubted he could get sixty men inside without alerting Korthac’s sentries, no matter how many throats they slit in the darkness.
Yavtar’s presence suggested another, better way.
“Then, Yavtar, I have a task for you, if you’re willing. A dangerous task.” He looked around the table. “Here’s what I want you to do.”
He explained his plan, his men leaning closer, intent on every word.
Eskkar had thought about little else most of the day, and now Bantor and Rebba had supplied the final bits of information he needed. Yavtar’s volunteering to join the battle provided yet another option.
When Eskkar finished, his commanders began to fill in their parts.
They had all fought together before, working on defenses during the siege, and planning attacks on barbarians and bandits. They knew what to do and what to suggest to each other.
Eskkar said little while they spoke, and Bantor, Alexar, and Mitrac all made their suggestions and asked their questions. The whole process didn’t take long. The subcommanders knew how to prepare their men. In less than an hour, they were all ready.
Rebba listened without speaking during the process. Now he shook his head as they began to get up from the table. “You really think this plan will work? Why don’t you wait until tomorrow night? That way we can get some help from Gatus and others inside the city who are willing to fight.”
Bantor answered even before Eskkar could speak. “No. Eskkar is right.
We must go now. Anything can happen in a day. We might be discovered here, or word might reach Korthac that Eskkar is on the way. If they suspect we’re here… no, we must attack tonight.”
“It will work, Rebba,” Klexor added. “Those men are bandits, and they’re not even from the same clan. Half of them will run at the first sign of trouble.”
“Even if half do run,” Rebba answered, “you’ll still be outnumbered.
And Korthac’s men are trained fighters, not bandits. They won’t run. If we wait another day or two, we can get many of the citizens to join with us.”
“We’ll be discovered,” Bantor said, his fist again striking the table. “Besides, we don’t need them. We just have to get over the walls, and when we do, I will put my sword in Ariamus’s guts and watch him die for what he did to my men.”
Eskkar stared at his subcommander, surprised at Bantor’s intensity.
He remembered the gossip about Ariamus and Annok-sur; he’d forgotten about it until now. Eskkar realized the anger that must still burn inside the man’s heart.
“At least keep your forces together, Eskkar,” Rebba pleaded. “Splitting them up will…”
“No, Rebba. What’s important is to get inside Akkad.” Eskkar spoke with certainty. “If we stay together, and can’t get in, then we’ve failed. This way, even if only half of us succeed, we can rouse the city. Besides, you say that Korthac’s men are scattered all over Akkad. The more places we attack, the greater their confusion.”
And gives me the best chance to rescue Trella. Eskkar had made that decision on the river, too. If he could get her out safely, he didn’t care if the rest of the attack failed. The people of Akkad could live with the demon Korthac for all he cared.
Silence settled over the table. Either none of Eskkar’s commanders found fault with his plan, or they just wanted to get on with the fight.
“Then I will go with you,” Rebba said, the sound of resignation in his voice. “No matter what happens, I’m committed. If you fail, I will be killed and my estates confiscated. So I’ll walk the streets, to rally the people behind you, even as you fight Korthac’s soldiers. The people will recognize me, and many will heed my words, when I tell them Eskkar has returned to free them.”
Eskkar understood Rebba’s situation. If Eskkar failed, Korthac would learn of Rebba’s involvement. They would all risk their lives tonight. He looked about the table, but no one said anything further.
“Tell your men to kill the Egyptian soldiers first,” Eskkar said, picking his words carefully. “The rest of the rabble will break. Make sure our soldiers shout their heads off. Let your battle cry be ‘Let None Escape.’
That will strike fear into the hearts of these bandits.”
“We need another one,” Klexor offered. “ ‘Eskkar has returned.’ I think that will rouse the people.”
Eskkar nodded his approval. “Good. Two battle cries will make us sound even stronger.”
The night was slipping by, and the time for words had passed. “Then let us begin. We still have things to prepare, and I don’t want our enemies enjoying too much sleep before we awaken them.”