Empire Rising (7 page)

If he rode on, the bandits would return as soon as he had passed on. Without sufficient men, and even more important, without enough horses, he couldn’t chase after the bandits either. Besides, Eskkar didn’t know how Empire Rising

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many men they had, and he might soon find himself fighting a force equal to or greater than his twenty horsemen. So he had a problem with no easy solution, but one he needed to resolve, and quickly.

Eskkar looked at Nisaba, and he could almost see the same thoughts running through her mind. “Elder, I will think about this for a while. You and the others must eat. My men will share their food with you.” He looked at Sisuthros, seated a few steps away, making sure his second in command understood the request. “Then we will talk again, Nisaba.”

He stood up, and his men began to move. He heard Sisuthros give the orders to establish the camp, post the sentries, and feed the villagers.

Leaders of ten assigned sleeping places to their men while others saw to the pack animals. With all the activity underway, Eskkar entered the village’s largest dwelling, the home that the bandit leader had taken for his own headquarters.

Inside, Eskkar found the floor covered with discarded bones and shreds of cooked and raw fl esh scattered among broken pots and furniture. Flies buzzed about, feeding on the refuse. One corner had served as a casual latrine. Blood smears covered one wall and the dirt fl oor in the far corner was crusted red, either with wine or more blood. An odor of something rotten hung in the air, overpowering even the smell of urine.

Ignoring it all, Eskkar found an upended stool, picked it up, and sat down facing the doorway. He didn’t look up when Grond and two soldiers entered and began cleaning up the place. One of the men had found a broom, and the other carried a pail of clean sand to dump over the urine-soaked dirt. They all worked quietly, not wanting to disturb their leader.

By the time they finished, Sisuthros entered, followed by one of the camp boys and two women from the village, carrying platters with some dried meat, bread, and dates, as well as a crude carved goblet containing wine.

The food and wine came from Akkad; the bandits had taken what little food remained in Dilgarth when they left.

Eskkar looked up as one of the women placed the food in front of him. “I want these bandits dead, Sisuthros.”

“They’re probably already gone, Captain,” Sisuthros answered cautiously. He had heard that tone of voice before and knew what it meant.

“They’ve no reason to hang around here. The place is stripped bare. There isn’t even any more food to be had. And the women . . .” He shrugged.

Eskkar’s second in command was a sturdy young man of twenty-three seasons, seven seasons younger than his commander, but he had fought his 26

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way through the long campaign against the Alur Meriki and had earned the men’s respect. More important, Sisuthros had a good head on his shoulders. Eskkar planned to leave him in charge when they reached their destination farther north, the village of Bisitun.

“They’ll be back,” Eskkar said quietly. “There’re still some vegetables in the fields and they’ll want to take some villagers with them as slaves, either to use or to sell, before they abandon this place. They left here only minutes before we arrived. They didn’t even take any of the women.”

“They seem to know our plans well enough,” Sisuthros said. “They probably guessed we don’t want to stay here. We could leave enough men behind to protect the village, at least for a while.”

“If we leave men behind, we’ll have to leave some horses as well,”

Grond argued. “And we don’t have enough horses as it is.”

A shortage of horseflesh had plagued Eskkar even before the siege of Akkad began.

“Nor do we know how many men to leave behind.” Eskkar took a sip from the wine cup. “If we leave too few, they could be overrun.” He shook his head. “No, I don’t want to waste time and men defending Dilgarth. I want these bandits dead when they return from the east.”

“Why east, Captain?” Grond asked, “Why not north, or south?”

“They can’t cross the river here, not without boats. It’s too wide.

They can’t enter Akkad. Gatus would seize any force of well-mounted and armed men loaded with loot, so they won’t go south. And we’re moving north, so they won’t like having a large force of men following behind them. That leaves east, the land that the barbarians stripped bare. If they’re heading that way, even for a few days, they’ll need to get as much food, loot, and slaves as they can carry.”

Neither man said anything, which merely meant they didn’t see any immediate fl aw in his logic. Eskkar had established certain rules of command, and one of these insisted that his subcommanders speak up freely regarding his plans and ideas. It was another of the many painful lessons Eskkar learned in the last six months—that it was more important to get everyone’s ideas and comments out in the open, rather than have to make all the decisions himself.

“So that means they’re probably watching the place,” Grond said.

“They’ll wait until we move on, make certain we’re gone, then come back, take as many villagers, food, and whatever else they want, and be off.”

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“Why couldn’t they have taken what they wanted today?” Sisuthros asked.

“Because they don’t have enough horses for the slaves and goods themselves,” Eskkar answered, glad that he had asked himself the same question. “And they weren’t sure if we would chase after them or not. If they were burdened with slaves and loot, we could have caught up with them easily enough. No, they’ll be back. Some fool even said as much to Nisaba.”

Eskkar looked toward the doorway, making certain the sentry stood in his place before continuing. He didn’t want any villager to overhear his words. Nevertheless he lowered his voice to almost a whisper. “This is what we’ll do.”

Like all of Eskkar’s plans, it seemed simple enough. And like most of his plans, there was plenty that could go wrong. Sisuthros first tried to argue him out of it, then offered to take his place, but Eskkar wouldn’t hear of it.

“I know what you’re saying makes sense, Sisuthros,” Eskkar said, putting an end to the argument. “But I’ll be safe enough. And this is something I want to take care of myself.”

Sisuthros made one more attempt. “Before we left, Lady Trella asked me to make sure you didn’t take any unnecessary chances.” When he saw that even Trella’s name wasn’t going to change his captain’s mind, he changed his tactic. “At least keep Grond here with you. By the gods, Eskkar, they may have more men than you.”

In the old days Eskkar would have raised his voice and demanded obedience. Now he made his voice firm and his words final. “If we do it right, they won’t be expecting trouble, and I’ll have trained men who should easily be able to take care of a dozen or so bandits.”

Grond and Sisuthros both started to protest, but Eskkar held up his hand.

“Enough arguing. Let’s eat in peace,” Eskkar went on, “then we’ll select the men and work out the preparations. When we’re ready, I’ll speak to Nisaba. She and the villagers will have to play their part as well.”

The two subcommanders looked at each other. They had made their arguments and heard his decision. Now the task ahead of them was to make sure their captain succeeded. They nodded their heads in resignation, and each man started thinking about his part of the plan.

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A n hour after dawn, the Akkadians marched out of Dilgarth. The villagers stood around sullenly, watching them go and waiting until the soldiers were well on their way before turning to their own tasks. Some of the men went down to the fi elds, others to the river.

The women soon followed their men out of the ruined gate, to kneel in the mud and repair the vital irrigation ditches that carried precious water from the river to the ever-thirsty crops. A thin plume of smoke rose up from the smith’s fire, and the carpenter’s hammer rang out as another day’s work in the rebuilding of the village began. Like the bandits, the soldiers had come and the soldiers had gone. With no other option, the villagers would attempt once again to get on with their lives.

The morning passed uneventfully. Noon arrived, and the villagers trudged back to their homes, to eat a meager meal and take a brief rest before returning to their labor. At midafternoon, despite the sun still high in the sky, they began moving back to the village, carrying their burdens or tools, walking slowly, heads downcast, their exhausted stares fixed on the dust of the earth.

When the last of them passed inside the gate, Eskkar stepped back from the edge of the square. From there he could just see the village entrance. He returned to the village elder’s house and pushed open the door.

For most of the day he had stood guard over the house and its eighteen occupants, mostly children or those too old or ill to work, making sure only his soldiers had gone forth to the fields. Eskkar didn’t want to take any chance the villagers would betray him, either willingly or with a knife Empire Rising

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at their throat. His men had kept track of the women they took with them into the fields. Only those Nisaba vouched for were allowed to depart, and then only in close contact with Eskkar’s men.

The rest of Dilgarth’s men, dressed in soldiers’ garb, had marched off with the rest of Eskkar’s force in the morning. The tallest “soldier” in the column wore Eskkar’s tunic and sat astride the captain’s horse. That soldier had ridden at the head of the column, between Grond and Sisuthros, as the Akkadians departed the village and continued their northward journey. If the bandits had left behind a spy, he would report that Eskkar personally led the column.

If the spy could count, he could also declare that all of the soldiers went north. At least Eskkar hoped his departure would be reported that way. Meanwhile, the soldiers would march north until they made camp at dusk. Then the twenty horsemen would turn about and begin retracing the journey back to the village. With luck they would arrive before midnight, though Eskkar expected everything to be long over by then.

Eskkar had stayed behind with ten men, the only number he could match against the able-bodied men of Dilgarth. But he selected some of the finest fighters and archers in his troop, all eager to prove themselves at Eskkar’s side, to show themselves worthy of the Hawk Clan.

In Eskkar’s rise to power, many of the old ways had fallen aside and many new customs created. After one of his earliest battles, Eskkar established a new kind of clan, a clan not of blood or place, but one of fighting brotherhood. Since then, every Hawk Clan member had sworn an oath of loyalty first to Eskkar and then to each other.

In the subsequent fighting against the barbarians, the Hawk Clan grew in number, though many died in the final assault. Only those who had proven themselves in battle could be nominated for entrance to the Hawk Clan. If accepted, their past, their homeland, their old clan did not matter.

Now men from the corners of the earth, many once homeless and friend-less, had a clan of their own, a new family, where all stood equal in honor.

The Hawk symbol grew into a mark of valor and prestige, and any soldier worthy of his sword hungered to wear the Hawk emblem. Though they numbered less than thirty, these elite soldiers formed the backbone of Eskkar’s subcommanders and bodyguards, the core of fighting men who supported Eskkar’s power.

Each Hawk Clan member wore the emblem proudly on his left shoulder, so that all could see the mark of bravery and distinction. Any of 30

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Eskkar’s soldiers would jump at the chance to demonstrate his courage and worth, and how better to do it than to fight at Eskkar’s side. Five of the ten soldiers who stayed with Eskkar belonged to the Hawk Clan. The others hoped to earn that honor in any upcoming battle.

Without any way to know if the village remained under the bandits’

scrutiny, Eskkar ordered the men back from the fields early. He didn’t want the bandits riding in while his few soldiers were scattered in the fields, or heading back to the village, to be killed or captured by ones and twos. Besides, his men would need some time to rest, to prepare their weapons, and take their stations. Eskkar hoped that the bandits, if they were watching, wouldn’t think the early return of any significance.

Hamati, the only other senior man in the group, walked to his captain’s side. Hamati had stopped only long enough to take a deep drink of water at the well and to wash the mud and muck from his hands and face.

“Marduk’s curses on these farmers, Captain, and their filthy way of life. I haven’t worked so hard in years.”

Legend told that Marduk, ruler of the heavens and father of the gods, had created the first farmer from river mud to till the soil. Farmers asked his blessing for their crops, even while they swore at him for making farming such a difficult labor.

“You’re soft from too much easy living, Hamati,” Eskkar said with a laugh. “Not even a full day in the fields and you’re complaining. Be grateful you don’t have to do it each day. Did the women give you any trouble?”

“No, but they kept looking over their shoulders toward the hills. Half of them wanted to run back to the village and the other half wanted to hide in the fields or along the river.”

A few nervous women wouldn’t arouse anyone’s suspicions. After what Dilgarth had been through, it would be natural enough for them to keep their eyes out for bandits and robbers. “Make sure your men are fed and ready, Hamati. If I were the bandits, I’d be here an hour or two before sunset. That will give them enough time before dark to gather what they need and be gone.”

Or they might not come at all. Eskkar worried they could already be far away, or be planning to come back in a few days or a week’s time. He had tried to put himself in their place and hoped they would do what he would have done. If he were wrong, if they had moved on . . . three days out of Akkad, and he’d look like a fool in front of his men, outsmarted by a few lazy bandits. He resolutely put the thought away. The afternoon Empire Rising