And so, Lady Trella,” Drakis said, finishing up his report, “Lord Eskkar dispatched me on one of the captured horses back to Akkad, to tell you and Gatus what took place.”
Trella shifted her body slightly in her chair as she listened to the soldier’s tale. The meeting had lasted for some time, and her pregnancy had reached the stage where she felt uncomfortable if she sat too long. Into her seventh month, she already looked forward to the child’s birth. Her body kept distracting her with one thing or another, making it more difficult to concentrate on the task at hand. Not that anyone in the room noticed.
Trella had grown very skillful at keeping her emotions and thoughts under control.
In the middle of her fi fteenth season, Trella’s fi gure would have been slender except for the coming child. She was slightly above average height; her hair was her best feature, very dark and thick, reaching just below her shoulders. A thin silver headband held the tresses away from her face, leaving cheeks and neck bare. Around her neck a loop of thin leather held a small gold coin, hidden between her breasts, a gift from Eskkar for saving his life. Aside from the unadorned fillet and necklace, she wore no other jewelry, though Akkad’s shopkeepers produced some of the finest bracelets, rings, and earrings sold on the river. Strangers tended to notice her eyes first, deep brown and set wide apart, which seemed to overlook nothing, as if they stared directly into your mind. Hardened soldiers twice her age often got flustered in her presence.
Not that her eyes revealed the power of her mind. Her father had trained her well, teaching his precocious daughter to listen, observe, and think. Her sharp wits did the rest. When anyone spoke, she listened intently while she watched his face, his hands, the shuffling of his feet, to better analyze his words. She perceived much by noting not only what men said, but how they said it and what they omitted. Few could hide the truth from her.
Many men underestimated her abilities at first, seeing only a young woman. Those who knew her did not. Trella possessed a presence of authority, an aura of domination. The barbarian clan Eskkar had befriended called her “a gifted one,” a term that designated a woman singled out by the gods, even allowed to speak at the council fires.
In Akkad, many thought the goddess Ishtar blessed her with special insight, a fact continually reinforced by Ishtar’s priest even as he took Trella’s gold. Others swore she’d learned the art of witchcraft, with the power to cast spells and control men’s souls. Trella smiled at all these ideas and did nothing to dispel any of them. Rather she used each to her advantage.
“And you are planning to return to my husband immediately, Drakis?”
“Yes, Lady Trella, as soon as I gather the supplies he requested. I must rejoin him before he reaches Bisitun.”
Gatus leaned forward across the table. “How many men did he leave behind in Dilgarth?” Seated at Trella’s right, Gatus, the new captain of the guard, commanded the garrison soldiers in Eskkar’s absence. An old man, already past his fiftieth season, Gatus had trained nearly every soldier in Akkad.
“He said he would leave three men,” Drakis replied. “The wounded man, plus two others. Lord Eskkar asked that you send more soldiers to Dilgarth as soon as you can, as well as craftsmen and whatever else you think best to help rebuild the village.”
“And he didn’t say why,” Gatus went on, “he wanted the ropes and oil?”
“No,” Drakis answered. “He just told me to bring ten coils of rope and as much of the black oil as I could carry on one spare horse, plus my mount.”
“I hope he’s not planning on burning Bisitun to the ground.” Corio, one of the Noble Families that helped rule Akkad, said the words only half in jest.
Trella turned to her left. Each day at least one of the city’s ruling families sat with Gatus and Trella to review any important matters. Today Corio represented the nobles at the council. Akkad now possessed seven such families, and the council room had scarcely enough space to hold all of them, though they rarely came together as a group.
A skilled artisan, Corio had designed and built Akkad’s wall, the wall that enabled Eskkar and his soldiers to defeat the barbarians. Undertaking that task had changed his status and brought him into the Noble Families.
Trella knew that many in Akkad, especially those critics unhappy with Eskkar, regarded Corio and his wall as the real saviors of the city.
“I’m sure that’s not his intention,” Trella said, smiling at Corio’s words.
“If it were, he would have said so.”
Corio nodded agreement. Those who worked closely with Eskkar knew he was not a subtle man. “And the oil will have to go in wineskins,”
Corio added. “It’s too easy to break pots on horseback, even if they’re well wrapped.”
“I don’t like this at all.” Gatus shook his head as he spoke. “There could be more men in Bisitun than Eskkar has with him, and this time they’ll be the ones behind a stockade. Maybe we should tell him to come back to Akkad. Bisitun can wait until we have more men.”
“Eskkar knows the situation, Gatus,” Trella said calmly, though she didn’t like it either. They had expected that Eskkar would encounter small, isolated bands of robbers and thieves, bandits who would flee before an organized force of fighting men. No one had foreseen a village full of armed men. Still, Trella had learned not to question her husband’s decisions on military issues. Eskkar had been fighting one battle or another for most of his thirty-odd seasons and he often saw things on the battlefield that another man would miss. And something told him he would need ropes and oil at Bisitun. That meant he thought he could capture Bisitun without too much loss of life.
“Drakis,” Trella began, “you say that after Shulat revealed his information, Eskkar remained on the roof for over an hour?”
“Yes, Lady Trella. Night had fallen, and the horseflesh was well cooked before he came down to join us. After he finished his meal, he gave me my instructions and told me to leave at dawn.”
One lesson Eskkar had learned well was the need to think and work out his campaigns in advance. Trella knew that if Eskkar thought about Bisitun that long, then he must have come up with a plan, and he would have weighed all the alternatives. She sighed to herself and shifted her weight once again. Short of an urgent plea to return, Eskkar would do whatever he decided. He would take too many chances, but that was the man he was.
“You will see to Drakis’s needs, Gatus?” If the man left at first light tomorrow, Trella reasoned, and the horses held up, Drakis would rejoin Eskkar just as he reached Bisitun.
“Yes, Lady Trella.” Gatus softened his gruff tone whenever he spoke to Trella. “I’ll make sure he has the two best horses left in Akkad, and an extra man or two for Dilgarth. And I think I’ll send another man with Drakis, to make sure he doesn’t fall off his horse, or wander off somewhere and get drunk.”
Everyone smiled at the jest. A member of the Hawk Clan, Drakis had proved himself steadier than most.
“Make sure you carry plenty of food with you, Drakis,” Trella said.
“But tonight you will eat and sleep at our house. You need to rest. You’ll be riding hard for at least four days.” She knew the words weren’t needed, that the man would do his duty regardless, but the effect achieved all she could wish.
The thought that the leader of Akkad worried about his dinner and sleeping arrangements brought an embarrassed flush to Drakis’s face. He stood up and bowed. “Thank you, Lady Trella. I will be honored.” He bowed again, this time to Gatus, and left the room.
Trella, Gatus, and Corio remained seated at the table in what had come to be called the Council House, a good-sized, one-level dwelling located only a few dozen paces from Akkad’s marketplace. Eskkar and the Noble Families met in the Council House to govern the fast growing city and manage its affairs. The structure contained only two large rooms: an inner chamber where the leaders met, and an outer room that functioned as a waiting area for those with council business. Three clerks worked there, to keep a record of what the council decided, and to keep track of those seeking to speak with the council. Two guards kept wary eyes on every visitor, and made sure no one brought a weapon into the inner room.
Two other Hawk Clan soldiers, Trella’s usual guard, waited there as well.
Another soldier stood watch outside the house.
Trella leaned back in her chair as she felt the child within her moving about. At least the business of the day had nearly finished. “How are the plans for the new wall, Corio? Are you any closer to completing your design?” Trella knew he had been meeting every day for over a month with all the master builders and artisans in Akkad.
Corio stood, then moved around to the other side of the table, so he could face them more easily. A tall man with large hands, he preferred to talk while standing. “We argued all day and into the night about it, until there was no more oil for the lamps.” He shook his head as he remembered. “No one is really satisfied. But based on what everyone needs and how much Akkad is expected to grow in the next few seasons… we finally agreed to begin.”
“And where will this new great wall be placed?” Gatus asked, his voice already rising. In addition to providing soldiers to maintain order during the building process, he would have to develop and train additional men to defend the expanded city in the event of another attack.
Corio shook his head ruefully. “You won’t like it, Gatus. The new east wall will be eight hundred paces from the present one. The north and west walls will remain as they are, but the south wall will also need to be shifted.
The area enclosed by the extended walls will be more than three times greater than what Akkad is today.”
“And how long will it take to build this wonderful new wall? Trella will be a grandmother before it’s finished, I’ll wager.”
Trella smiled at the old soldier’s words. He thought of her almost as a daughter, and considered himself one of the few in Akkad that didn’t need to use a title when he spoke to her, though in formal occasions he still addressed her properly.
“The new walls will be thirty-five feet high,” Corio said, “but ten of those will be belowground. With the many towers that you and Eskkar have demanded, it will take at least three years to build.” The value of towers that projected above and over the wall was no longer questioned-they had learned that lesson the hard way during the Alur Meriki siege.
Trella showed no surprise, though privately she thought it would take closer to five years to complete. She’d attended many of the discussions, and knew that Akkad’s need for new space would be great. It would be a huge project and take many years, and she worried more about where the gold, soldiers, and laborers would come from. With the new wall in place, Akkad would be the greatest and strongest city in the world, and her child would be safe within its mighty walls.
Gatus slapped his hand on the table in disgust. “Three years! That’s if we can find soldiers and workers aplenty to work on it. More likely twice that, if you ask me. I doubt I’ll live long enough to see it built.”
Trella placed her hand on top of his and smiled. “You will see it, Gatus, as will all of us. Corio will build a great city for us. We must be patient.” She held him in as much respect as the soldiers did, though for a different reason. The soldiers honored his experience and his years. Not many fighting men survived past their fortieth season. For Trella, Gatus had proven his loyalty to her and Eskkar more than once.
She turned to Corio. “I am glad all of you have agreed on what is needed. As always, you have done well, Master Builder.” She stood, grateful for the chance to ease her back and already looking forward to returning home.
A shadow crossed the open doorway and one of the attending scribes appeared, a young man with the sallow face of one who rarely saw the sun.
He had a thin beard and a high-pitched voice. “Lady Trella… Captain Gatus, there is one more waiting to see you, a stranger from the far west.
The messenger from Noble Eskkar was brought in ahead of him. Shall I tell him to return tomorrow?”
Trella felt tempted to do exactly that, but the far west meant the stranger came from the land beyond the other great river. They seldom met travelers from the region west of the Euphrates. She saw the same curiosity on Corio’s face and changed her mind. “No, we will see him now.
Please send him in.”
By the time she and Corio had taken their seats again, the stranger stood before them. Trella guessed that he neared his thirtieth year, though his smooth, unblemished face made him seem younger. Not much taller than her own height, the man had a slight build, though he seemed sturdy enough. His garments appeared worn but well made, his features smooth and even. Except for his gray eyes and darker complexion, nothing distinguished him from any local trader. He bowed politely, turning to face each of them as he did so.
“I thank you for receiving me, Captain Gatus.” Korthac spoke softly, with a pleasant voice, and even though he had a strong accent, his meaning was clear. “My name is Korthac. I realize it is late in the day, and I saw that Noble Eskkar’s messenger was unexpected. I can return tomorrow, if you wish.”
Gatus turned toward Trella, but she gave no sign, just studied the stranger. The old soldier nodded formally at the visitor. “No, we can speak now. And there is no need to stand.” Gatus waited until Korthac took a seat facing them across the table. “This is Corio, our master artisan, and this is Lady Trella, the wife of Eskkar, our ruler. You say you’re from the lands west of the Euphrates?”
“Yes, Captain. From beyond the great desert. I arrived yesterday with a small caravan. I am a trader, and I would like to establish a House here in Orak… I mean, Akkad.” He smiled at his mistake. Everyone seemed to have trouble getting used to the city’s new name.
“What kind of trader?” Corio leaned forward on the table. The question was more than just idle curiosity. Every trader had his own contacts and trade secrets, and if this man truly came from across the desert, he might bring new trading links to the city.
“Noble Corio, I deal in gemstones and other small items that can be traded profitably. I plan to bring such goods across the great desert, and trade in emeralds, onyx, rose quartz, peridot, amethyst, and glass beads.
To make a profit over such a great distance, the items traded must be small and easily carried, as I’m sure you understand.”
“Jewelry made from beads of glass is very rare here,” Corio mused.
“They are much prized for their beauty and healing properties. And peridot is in short supply as well, since it has the power to dissolve enchantments.”
“Then perhaps I shall do well in Akkad,” Korthac said politely, his smile showing white and even teeth. “If, Noble, I am permitted to open a House of my own.”
“There is a tax that must be paid before you can establish a trading house,” Corio said, glancing at Trella before answering. “You understand, Korthac, we have just defeated a barbarian invasion, and at great cost to all of us, I might add. Newcomers must pay to do business under Akkad’s protection. There are other taxes and rules as well.”
A frown passed briefly across Korthac’s face. “I hope that such fees will not be too great, Nobles. I have had to struggle across a great distance and my own expenses have been high.”
Trella cut in smoothly. “Perhaps you can tell us a little about the lands to the west. What are they like? Are there many people there?”
“Once you get across the great desert, to the land called Egypt, there are many villages and great numbers of people,” Korthac answered.
“Villages as great as Akkad?” Gatus had more than a hint of doubt in his voice. “Distant lands are always magical or mighty, it seems, but I traveled widely in my younger days and never encountered a city with as many people as Akkad.”
“Oh, no, none so great as Akkad,” Korthac said. “Akkad is a mighty …”
“Please forgive me, Korthac,” Trella interrupted, “but you may speak plainly here.” She knew a visitor would be expected to praise Akkad to the skies, to flatter its rulers and important citizens. “We wish to hear the truth about the lands to the west. Those few who come to us from afar are mainly lost men or desert wanderers, who understand little about the ways of village and farm. Such as those can tell us little.”
Korthac looked at Trella carefully before continuing. “In truth, Lady Trella, Egypt is a vast and fertile land of many villages, some of them larger than Akkad. Egypt has much gold and silver, as well as great fl ocks of cattle and other beasts. The numbers of its people are beyond counting.”
“Do these villages have walls around them?” Corio sounded unconvinced.
“Many do, Noble Corio,” the stranger answered calmly. “Not all, but some have raised walls such as yours for protection, to keep out bandits or invaders.”
“Akkad is the first village in these lands to build a fortified wall to protect itself,” Corio added, a hint of skepticism showing through. “A strong wall is not such an easy thing to raise.”
“I can only tell you what I have seen, Noble Corio,” Korthac said, raising his hands slightly in deference. “Lady Trella asked me to speak the truth, and I have done so.”
“Then we should thank you for your honesty, Korthac,” Trella said, again speaking before Corio could reply. “But now, it grows late and the council still has some business to attend to. Would you be able to call upon us tomorrow, say, at the hour before noon? Then we will have time to speak with you at leisure and you can tell us much more about what you have seen in your travels and this land called Egypt.”
Korthac took the dismissal gracefully. He stood and bowed respectfully. “Of course, Lady Trella, I understand. I will return at that hour.”
Trella had risen when he did and she bowed as well, giving Korthac a pleasant smile as he left the room. She waited until he stepped out of earshot before she turned to Corio and Gatus. “This stranger took a great chance, crossing the desert with such valuable trade goods, with only the hope of establishing a House here in Akkad.”
“Whatever his reasons,” Corio answered, “he is here and with his goods. Every merchant adds to the wealth of Akkad. Let him establish his trading house, if he can pay his tax of twenty gold coins.”
“No, Corio,” Trella said firmly, “I think not. Tomorrow we will tell him that he must pay forty gold coins if he is to do business here.”
“Ishtar’s eyes, Trella,” Gatus swore, “Mantar wailed for days when he had to pay twenty. He claimed he would be reduced to begging in the streets. And that only a month ago.”
“Still, Mantar paid the tax,” Trella said. “And remember, Korthac is a stranger. Mantar lived here all his life.”
Mantar dealt in livestock, mostly goats and sheep, that supplied milk and cheese. He had complained bitterly about the amount of the tax, but he had been one of those who fled the city before the barbarians arrived, and now had to pay to reestablish himself. Trella had no sympathy for those who had refused to defend Akkad.
“And I doubt Korthac will cry as loud as Mantar did,” Trella said.
“I think it is important to learn as much about Korthac as possible.” She turned to Gatus. “How many men were in his caravan, how many slaves, how many animals? What kind of people did he bring with him? Find out where he is staying and talk to the innkeeper. Let us all see what we can find out, and we’ll meet here tomorrow at midmorning. We can speak about this before we see Korthac again. I will make sure Nicar is here as well. He sees much in men that we may miss.”
The Noble Nicar had led the city before the invasion, and had entrusted the city’s defense to Eskkar. Nicar had also given Eskkar a slave girl named Trella.
“What is it about Korthac that worries you, Lady Trella?” Corio sounded surprised at her concern. “He seemed polite enough.”
Trella shrugged. “Nothing worries me yet, Corio. But we can afford to be cautious. And isn’t it strange that a merchant would cross the great desert at such risk, before he was sure of what awaited him here? Was he unaware that the Alur Meriki were passing through these lands, killing anyone they encountered? Why didn’t he send an emissary ahead of him?”
Corio opened his mouth to reply, then closed it again. In the last few months, he’d learned not to dismiss her thoughts.
“Think on it, Corio,” Trella went on. “And you, too, Gatus. Let us all learn what we can. Now if you will excuse me, my body calls to me once again.”
She walked into the front room, her two guards rising as she entered.
Her friend and companion Annok-sur waited for her as well, getting to her feet as Trella crossed the room. The two women stepped side by side into the square and began the walk back to Eskkar’s house. One guard walked ahead of them, the other behind. Both men kept their hands on their swords and their eyes moving about.
Only a few months ago Eskkar’s enemies attacked Trella in the street and nearly killed her. The men who tried to assassinate her had died under the torture. In a true barbarian rage, Eskkar had threatened to burn the city to the ground and kill every inhabitant if it happened again. No one doubted him. And so the guards remained wary and suspicious, exactly as Eskkar and Gatus instructed. They didn’t want to face Eskkar’s wrath or their own shame should another attempt on Trella’s life take place.
Annok-sur, as alert as any of the guards, stayed close beside Trella.
The wife of one of Eskkar’s subcommanders, Annok-sur had nearly twice Trella’s seasons. Her husband Bantor and a group of soldiers had departed Akkad a few days before Eskkar left for the north. By now Bantor’s force would have ranged far to the south of Akkad, carefully watching from afar the progress of the retreating barbarian migration, and making sure they did not double back for another attack on Akkad. The barbarians had been driven off, but they still had many warriors, and rumors of their presence, even as the distance grew, still frightened Akkad’s inhabitants.
“Something troubles you, Trella?”
“Yes, Annok-sur, but we will speak of it when we are home.”
Korthac returned to the modest inn he’d picked for himself and his men. Walking through the lanes, he ignored the open-mouthed stares of the villagers. Although the clothing he and his bodyguard wore came from these lands, their darker complexions, burnished even deeper by months in the sun, marked them as strangers and worse, foreigners.
Nevertheless, Korthac smiled pleasantly at anyone who caught his eye, offering greetings and friendly nods. He needed to gain acceptance from these simple folk. There would be plenty of time to teach them proper respect later on. Then they would kneel in the dirt when he passed, afraid to lift their eyes to his lest they lose their heads.
More than a month had passed since he left Magabad. He’d entered Akkad with only sixteen men, carefully chosen to make sure they looked more like servants and laborers than fighting men. The rest of his force remained far to the west, awaiting his summons while Ariamus roamed the countryside seeking men willing to fight for gold, even with foreigners at their side.
Fortune had smiled on Korthac when it delivered Ariamus to him.
Korthac couldn’t image a more perfect tool. Ariamus knew the city and the countryside, knew the people, and knew how to command the rabble that would soon sweep Korthac to power. The man’s desires for power and wealth made him easy to control. As long as Ariamus remained obedient and loyal, he would continue to be useful. Korthac remembered the astonishment in Ariamus’s eyes when he saw the bags of gemstones. The man’s greed would be the halter in Korthac’s firm hands.
Korthac had brought two bags of jewels with him, more than enough to establish himself in Akkad. In a few days or a week, he would grudgingly pay whatever trivial sum the Akkadians demanded of him. After that, he’d buy a house and set up a base of operations. He would bring more of his men into Akkad by ones and twos, increasing their number while he established an innocent trade in gemstones with the local merchants.
It would be lucrative business for the Akkadians, as Korthac planned to be less than astute in his dealings. That would win him many more friends even as he earned a reputation as a poor trader. And he’d bestow other gifts that would gain him more supporters.
At the same time, Ariamus would continue gathering men. In Korthac’s first few talks after saving Ariamus’s life, Korthac hadn’t been sure that his newly acquired servant and ally could deliver the numbers of fighting men he promised. But as he traveled closer toward Akkad, Korthac saw for himself the devastation in the countryside and numbers of masterless men wandering about. Many had flocked to join Ariamus and his men, and his newest subcommander promised to recruit even more. When Korthac had enough followers, one night’s fighting would see the city his.
Tomorrow his campaign would begin. He had already started learning who the important traders and merchants were, and soon he would begin buying their support with judicious and discreet bribes. Korthac didn’t be-grudge the gemstones that would be required; he’d make sure he got most of them back when he seized command of the city.
Akkad did impress him despite what he’d told Trella. The city bustled with excitement. Korthac saw new construction or rebuilding on every street, while freshly planted crops flourished in the surrounding fields.
The inhabitants looked healthy, content, and well fed, with little illness in evidence. Even the slaves looked remarkably satisfied with their lot. Egypt might have one or two cities larger, but none matched this place in energy.
No, Akkad would serve his needs perfectly. Perhaps someday he would raise an army large enough to return to Egypt and vanquish his enemies.
He put that thought out of his mind. It would take years to fully exploit Akkad, and right now he needed to concentrate on the task at hand.
He’d spoken to the innkeeper and several others already and learned that Eskkar had traveled north while sending other soldiers to the south.
Korthac could scarcely believe his luck. The foolish ruler had divided his forces and left the city in the care of his pregnant slave girl.
If Ariamus could raise men fast enough, Korthac would have more than enough followers to take control of Akkad. It might take only weeks instead of the months he had envisioned. While the fool Eskkar chased bandits all over the countryside, weakening his forces in the process, Korthac would husband and increase his own numbers.
Korthac reached his lodgings and passed inside. He nodded pleasantly to the innkeeper and sat down at a table. Except for the owner and his family, only Korthac and his men now stayed here. The other guests had been encouraged to seek accommodations elsewhere by the innkeeper, after a large gift from Korthac. The tiny inn normally couldn’t accommodate so many travelers, but his men could bear such a minor hardship as sleeping shoulder to shoulder on the dirt floor; after the brutal weeks journeying across the desert, the inn’s floor seemed almost luxurious.
Even though Korthac had selected these men with care, they still had difficulty acting as simple bodyguards instead of trained warriors. He only allowed them to carry knives, befitting their role, and kept their newly acquired swords in his room. He’d promised to kill the first man that quarreled with any of the local inhabitants. So far, they’d shown restraint, knowing their days of plunder and pillage would come soon enough.
The innkeeper rushed to his table, carrying a jar of wine and cups while his obsequious wife appeared with a bowl of dates and a chipped plate holding fresh bread. Korthac thanked them both with a smile, ignoring their filthy hands and the dirty utensils. The innkeeper no doubt imagined he would make a tidy profit from his foreign guest. The thought of someday taking it all back from the man helped Korthac’s appetite. The barely adequate wine smelled of vinegar, but he drank it gratefully while he picked at the already-stale bread.
Today’s meeting with Trella had gone better than he’d dreamed possible. Perhaps the fool Lord of Akkad would get himself killed and solve another problem. This Eskkar didn’t even have an heir, though Korthac doubted many would rally to a son of an upstart barbarian. Korthac knew it took years of trust, years of obedience to a ruler before the people accepted without question the passing of authority from father to son.
Gatus, the temporary leader of the city, looked and acted like a plain soldier, one with little imagination. And Corio was nothing more than an artisan, only recently allowed into the company of what these locals called the Nobles. No, these simple villagers hadn’t rallied around Eskkar out of choice, but out of necessity.
Eskkar had left the city, taking nearly a quarter of its soldiers. Another sixty or so had gone south, so that left little more than a hundred men here in Akkad, not even enough to defend the walls properly, not without the villagers supporting them. If the soldiers here could be eliminated, the other two forces, even if they got together, would be too weak to retake the city, especially after Korthac convinced the villagers to fi ght for him. There would be more than a few disaffected locals eager to gain a better place and position. Taking a sip of wine, he grimaced at the taste.
He knew how to win over the rest of the villagers. Hacking a few to death in the marketplace would solve that problem.
That left only Trella to be reckoned with. She would be curious, possibly even suspicious, but a stranger with a dozen men wouldn’t worry her or any of the others. Perhaps he could even win her over, keep her occupied and amused with stories of Egypt while Ariamus gathered more men. A few jewels might even do the trick.
Ariamus hadn’t found out much about Trella, but the innkeeper had plenty of stories to tell. She seemed to have her wits about her, but she was merely a pregnant girl, too young to have any real understanding in how to deal with men or rule a city. More important, she lacked experience in warfare, especially the kind of fighting Korthac had waged in Egypt. No, she and this Eskkar had attained their positions by the luck of a barbarian invasion, and in the confusion they had gained control of the biggest city on the Tigris. Korthac needed to deal carefully with her, but he would make sure she learned only what he wanted her to know. Until it was too late. Then she, too, would kneel at his feet.
He tasted a few of the dates and wished again for the fruit of the trees from the village of his youth. Somehow the food in this new place didn’t seem quite as satisfying as that of Egypt. He assumed he would get used to it, however, especially when served to him on a golden platter by his new slaves. Taking another mouthful of wine to rinse his mouth, he thought more about Trella. She had little beauty, especially with her body already distorted by the coming child.
She did have a presence, a sense of command, one Korthac would enjoy breaking. He had seen how the others deferred to her, though that might be simple fear of the barbarian Eskkar. Perhaps she would make a good pleasure slave. She’d been a slave once, so it only seemed fitting to return her to her true station. He pictured her kneeling naked at his feet, begging for the chance to please him. Yes, that was something pleasant to anticipate. Almost as pleasant as the prospect of the entire city submitting to his authority, eager to satisfy his every command.
In the morning he would meet with the council, plead his case, and begin negotiations over whatever trifling taxes they demanded. Tomorrow would be the first day of his new campaign. It wouldn’t be a long campaign, but when it ended, he would rule fi rst here, then over all the surrounding countryside. Eskkar would be dead, and his woman would be Korthac’s slave, for as long as she pleased him. Or she, too, would be dead.