Empire Rising (33 page)

Their first day together, En-hedu and Tammuz talked for hours about Korthac. When they finished, they had a plan, and the next day they began the preparations necessary to set it in motion.

Taking advantage of En-hedu’s experience in the tannery, Tammuz approached an older woman, Ninbanda, whose husband had died a few weeks earlier. He, too, had worked with leather, cutting, trimming, and shaping the cured hide into finished goods that Ninbanda sold in the market. But with his death, his duties had passed to his brother, who could do little to help his brother’s widow. He gave her some work and a place to live, and allowed her to sell some of the poorer quality goods that came through the tannery, but she often didn’t earn enough to offset the hardship to her family.

The woman quickly accepted Tammuz’s offer to share in the selling of additional goods that Tammuz would provide. Ninbanda also agreed to his one condition: that she and En-hedu sell their wares not in the market, but in a particular lane and at a specific location. Tammuz, of course, didn’t mention that this was where Korthac decided to dwell.

Ten days after En-hedu came to the alehouse, Tammuz received word that Korthac had finally settled on a new house. The largest houses in the better parts of Akkad remained occupied, and no amount of gold 182

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could entice their occupants to leave, to Korthac’s obvious annoyance. He eventually had to compromise on his new dwelling: the Egyptian’s new residence actually consisted of one large house, flanked by two smaller ones. Unfortunately for Korthac, the large central house remained occupied by its former owners, who delayed their departure an extra week or so, thereby preventing Korthac from taking possession.

Moving quickly, Tammuz established Ninbanda and En-hedu as sellers of goods, in the lane outside Korthac’s residences. A few days later, when Korthac finally took possession, En-hedu had already established herself and her wares as if she’d been selling there all her life.

Each morning En-hedu rose before dawn, gathered the day’s wares, and went to her post, just a few paces down the lane from Korthac’s new houses. Corio, Akkad’s master artisan, had offered to build a new home for Korthac, as grand as he wanted, but the Egyptian decided to wait for that, and settled for the three joined houses. He split his men between the two smaller structures, and lived in the main house with just a few servants and guards.

En-hedu and her business partner, Ninbanda, pushed their cart into the lane at dawn, then sat behind it all day, pitching their wares to all those who passed by. Sandals, leather strips for binding, belts, pouches, scabbards for knives and swords, wrist guards, and even some leather rings, necklaces, and bracelets were offered for sale. Mixed in with the goods were the occasional items stolen by Tammuz’s customers, so the business actually helped her master recover some of his expenses.

With two women working the cart, the business thrived, especially since En-hedu took but a tiny part of the profits. The selling took little effort, leaving her plenty of time to chat with Ninbanda and those who lived in the lane. En-hedu soon became familiar with Korthac’s men, even learning their names. After a few days she called out to them when they passed by, offering her wares, urging them to look and to buy.

She quickly learned not to attempt to speak with them when they walked with Korthac. The Egyptian showed no tolerance for those beneath him, and coldly berated any of his men who fraternized with the villagers. Of course, a woman selling in the streets was far below his notice, and after one glance at En-hedu’s disfigured face, he ignored her completely.

Korthac’s men, however, looked at her far differently. En-hedu knew the look of lust when she saw it, and the Egyptians all seemed to burn Empire Rising

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with it. Her broken nose didn’t matter to them. And not only her, but any woman in the lane. Their hot eyes devoured each woman they passed.

Men’s lusts were nothing new to En-hedu. She’d had to satisfy not only her former master, but some of his friends on more than one occasion. Spreading her legs, she’d closed her eyes and did what they commanded. Her old master had taught her to obey as soon as she reached his house. He raped her at once, not even bothering to close the door, then beat her for not pleasing him. The beatings continued every day, until she learned to obey every command instantly.

Remembering those times made her apprehensive. She knew Tammuz wanted to take her, and she dreaded the day when he could no longer restrain himself. A slave was bound to pleasure her master, and yet the thought of a man, even Tammuz, taking her, being inside her, brought back the painful memories.

After all these weeks, she’d learned to trust Tammuz, to let him hold her in the darkness, and she clasped his hand at every opportunity. Nevertheless, she wondered fretfully what Lady Trella would think, if she learned En-hedu hadn’t pleasured Tammuz—that she had failed in one of the most basic duties due her master.

Aside from that concern, she looked forward to the end of each day, when she returned to the alehouse. She’d soon discovered that old Kuri needed plenty of help dispensing the ale, especially in the evening hours.

He drank too much of his own wares, and easily lost track of what the customers consumed and paid. En-hedu kept a close watch on the stock, and cut down on the waste and spillage. Kuri gladly relinquished that part of his duties, and instead did his best to maintain order.

Naturally many customers wanted more than just ale, and solicita-tions for sex and worse initially followed her every step. Tammuz ordered one man out the first night for laying a hand on her, and Kuri did the same the following night. By then En-hedu had grown confi dent enough in her own strength. After she’d knocked down one drunken patron and threatened to bash his brains in with a stool, the regular patrons soon learned to leave her alone.

She was the owner’s slave, and he was keeping her for himself, a not entirely unreasonable thing to do. Once the customers grasped the odd fact that she was not for sale, they accepted her as one of themselves.

For herself, En-hedu came to enjoy the time spent behind the selling cart. Being outside, breathing fresh air, and enjoying the sun with little to 184

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do except watch the cart gave her more time to heal. The long days turned into weeks, and En-hedu and her leatherwares became as much a part of the lane outside Korthac’s residence as the walls, houses, and dirt underfoot, and just as unnoticed.

And so the days passed. En-hedu watched the Egyptians with care, always challenging them to purchase something from her cart. Some of them spoke only Egyptian, but many had picked up more than a few words of the local language. They remained subdued when Korthac walked about, but a week after his arrival in Akkad, Korthac began spending most of the daylight hours at the river. He set up a trading table there, and each day offered a handful of gems for sale or trade. Many Akkadians stopped at his table, as well as travelers, boatmen, and traders journeying up or down the Tigris.

That left most of his guards—as En-hedu soon came to think of them that way—with nothing to do except wait for their master’s return. She discovered they were not allowed to leave the house without Korthac or his senior assistant, a tall, bald-headed man named Hathor. Hathor also functioned as an occasional bodyguard, though there were other Egyptians who regularly guarded Korthac’s person.

Forbidden to walk the lanes, Korthac’s men lounged in the doorways, staring boldly at the women who passed by. For the braver ones, it only took a few steps to cross the lane and examine En-hedu’s merchandise and exchange a few words with her in their halting way. She made sure they always received a warm smile for their efforts.

“They seem to be waiting for something,” En-hedu said to Tammuz.

Each night, they sat alone in the dark of their bedroom or lay together in the bed, leaving Kuri to keep watch in the outer chamber while the customers snored on the floor.

“We know no more than we did last month,” Tammuz said, impatience and frustration showing in his voice. “Each week I send word to Trella we’ve learned nothing new.”

“We must wait a bit longer, Tammuz,” she said. “Korthac’s men are becoming more friendly. He can’t keep them in the houses forever.” By now she’d watched Korthac’s house for more than four weeks, and understood Tammuz’s frustration.

“I wish I could slip into the house at night, just to listen.”

“You know you cannot do that, Tammuz.” Since the incident on the roof, Korthac had added another sentry on the rooftop at night, and still Empire Rising

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had the usual guards at all the entrances. No doubt another one or two would be inside the main house, alert and awake. The extra guards didn’t arouse any suspicion to the rest of Akkad. Everyone knew Korthac possessed plenty of gold and gems, and naturally he would take precautions.

“Something will turn up, sooner or later,” she said, taking his hand and holding it close. “We just have to be ready when it happens.”

“Soon, I hope.”

“Soon, I’m sure. Now go to sleep, master.”

En-hedu waited as he tossed and turned, before finally falling asleep, his arm thrown over her chest. She let go of his hand, and thought about the man asleep in her arms. He needed to be pleasured, and soon. Frustrated by his inability to learn anything about Korthac, she knew Tammuz needed something else to think about. She sighed. Any day now, and she would have to do it, offer herself to him and endure the pain. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so painful with Tammuz. And better a little pain than facing Lady Trella’s disapproval.

11

——

——

I tell you, Trella, this is wrong. Asurak deserves his goods, and the council should support his claim. Otherwise . . .”

“Otherwise Asurak will have to pay what he agreed,” Corio cut in, the annoyance plain in his voice. “Which he should have done yesterday, instead of wasting the council’s time.”

The discussion, argument really, had gone on for some time, and Trella didn’t need to hear much to make up her mind. The dispute started at dawn, when the trader from Dilgarth tried to deliver his goods to Asurak.

The trader, Chuvash, had come down from Dilgarth yesterday with the first wagonload of raw flax. Two merchants had bid for the goods, and Asurak had proffered the higher price to Chuvash, with the goods to be delivered this morning.

Now Asurak claimed that, after a closer inspection, the goods were inferior, and only offered to pay fifteen silver coins, instead of the agreed-upon price of twenty-five. Within the hour, everyone in the marketplace knew the story. Trella, on her way to the council meeting, learned of it from Annok-sur, who’d heard it from one of the women in the market.

Rasui, the newest member of Akkad’s nobles and a close friend of Asurak, supported the merchant’s claim and made the argument before the other council members.

Trella spoke before Rasui could start again. “I think the council has heard enough. Both Asurak and Chuvash gave us their versions, and the council has heard the same story twice.” She turned to Corio, Nicar, and then to Rasui before going on. “Asurak inspected the goods before he of-Empire Rising

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fered the price. He waited until the other bidder had left the city before he decided the goods were inferior.”

“If the trader wants to sell his flax,” Rasui countered, “then he has to sell to my . . . Asurak. There are no other buyers of flax in Akkad.”

Trella smiled at Rasui’s logic. True enough. All the usual buyers of flax had departed for Dilgarth in the last few days, eager to resume trade and lock in prices for the first deliveries. Knowing of the temporary shortage of buyers in Akkad, Asurak no doubt felt confident the Dilgarth trader would have to accept the revised terms.

“No, the deal is revoked,” Trella said. “Asurak says he doesn’t want the goods at the original price. Fine. Then let him pay Chuvash two silver coins as a penalty for attempting to change the agreed upon price. I will pay the trader twenty-five coins for the flax myself. I’m sure I can resell the goods in a few days, when the flax weavers return from Dilgarth.”

Corio laughed aloud. “Sounds fair to me.” He turned to Nicar. “What do you say?”

“Actually, I was about to make the same offer,” Nicar said, a hint of humor in his voice. “I don’t usually deal in flax, but I have a boat going downriver tomorrow, and I can ship the raw flax south. Plenty of weavers in the villages along the river. The first boatload should fetch a good price. If Lady Trella doesn’t mind, I will buy the goods from Chuvash for twenty-six silver coins.”

Trella laughed. “Be my guest, Nicar. You can make better use of it, I’m sure.”

Rasui muttered something under his breath. Trella couldn’t hear what he said, but Corio, sitting beside Rasui, must have.

“Watch your tongue, Rasui,” Corio said, disdain plain in his voice.

“This council isn’t here to help scheming merchants take advantage of others. Your friend should have known better.”

“Well, then, at least Asurak need not pay the two silver coins as Trella suggested,” Rasui argued. “Since he’s getting twenty-six from Nicar and . . .”

“The two extra coins are for wasting the council’s time, and the trader’s,” Trella said. “He pays or he can leave Akkad.”

“
Lady
Trella speaks for all of us,” Corio said, turning to Rasui and em-phasizing the honorific. “Asurak can pay now, or leave tomorrow, which-ever he prefers.”

Trella had noticed Rasui’s frequent omission of her simple title, a sign of respect given to her as Eskkar’s wife and for presiding over the 188

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council in his absence. And while the Council of Nobles was technically a group of equals, everyone remembered when Eskkar had convened the first meeting, a week or so after the siege ended. Some newly returned shopkeeper had referred to Trella casually. Eskkar had given the man such a look that he turned pale, and couldn’t stammer his apologies fast enough.