Empire Rising (44 page)

En-hedu pushed past the men. She lifted the lamp and moved it closer to Gatus. “Hold the lamp here, Tammuz, while I look after his wound.”

Lifting his garment, she moved aside Gatus’s hand and examined the gash just above his hip. She’d tended enough cuts and scrapes at the tannery, though nothing as deep as this. “He’s still bleeding. His arm is cut and his side. The blade must have passed through his arm.”

“An arm’s not very good as a shield,” Gatus said, wincing in pain. “Just tie it up. I have to go . . . get to my men.”

“You can’t go anywhere, Gatus,” Tammuz said, his voice sounding Empire Rising

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harsh in the small room. “Trella’s been captured, the barracks and both gates seized. All the soldiers have been taken prisoner, except for the ones who died. Korthac rules Akkad.”

“Korthac! That Egyptian dog . . .”

“By dawn, half of Korthac’s men will be searching for you. Simut must have had orders to kill you. Instead, we killed him and one of his men. The Egyptians will want revenge for that. They’ll want you, or your dead body.”

“That was you? My thanks for that stroke, Tammuz,” Gatus said. “Did Kuri teach you how to fight?”

“Thank En-hedu as well. She saved both of us.”

Gatus looked at En-hedu in confusion, so Tammuz recounted the fight and described Simut’s death, while En-hedu cleaned the soldier’s wounds.

“He can stay here,” Kuri said. “I mean . . . he’s bleeding pretty bad.”

“They’ll search everywhere, including here,” Tammuz said. “We’ll have to find someplace else.”

“We’ll hide him here, on the roof,” En-hedu said. She tore a piece of cloth in half and turned to Kuri. “Help me lift him.” They lifted Gatus’s shoulders up off the bed, enough for her to slip the cloth underneath him.

She used another piece of linen to thicken the bandage, and tied it tight around his waist. Then she bound up his arm.

Straightening, she faced the two men. “They’ll search here, but they won’t go up on the roof. We can distract anyone who comes looking, if need be, and make sure they don’t poke around too closely. He can stay up there in the hiding hole all day, or at least until they’ve come and gone.”

“All day in the sun? He’ll bake . . .”

“We’ll give him a blanket to cover himself,” she said. “And some water.

With luck, they won’t find him up there. After they’ve searched, we can bring him back down.” En-hedu looked down at Gatus. “He needs a healer, but that will have to wait, at least until tomorrow night.”

“I’ve been in the sun before,” he said, peering from one to the other in the dim light. “One more day won’t kill me.” He choked off a laugh at his own words.

The roof above their heads, the solid part, had a flat space barely large enough for two people to stretch out. But what looked like the end of the roof was in reality a false wall, concealing a narrow niche where Tammuz, like the previous owner, had found occasion to temporarily hide stolen 252

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goods. It would be a tight squeeze to get Gatus in the hiding hole, but he’d be out of sight and well hidden.

“We’ll have to get him up there before dawn, so nobody sees him,”

Tammuz said. “If they find him . . .”

“You and En-hedu should go somewhere safe,” Kuri said. “Get out of the city. I’ll stay here with Gatus.”

“No, we’re not going,” En-hedu said, her voice decisive. “Why would we leave our business? They’d be suspicious at that. It makes no difference to us who runs Akkad. We should tell everyone we’re glad Korthac’s taken control.”

Tammuz stared at her. He’d never heard such hardness in her voice.

“We don’t know how many men Korthac has. They may loot and rape the whole city before they go.”

“They’re not going anywhere,” she said, still speaking with conviction.

“Korthac would have struck weeks ago if he’d wanted to loot and run.”

“If they stay . . . there will be rapes . . . the women . . . no place will be safe.” Tammuz looked at her, worry on his face.

She reached out and touched Tammuz’s arm. “So we might as well stay here.”

“I won’t see you taken by those men, En-hedu. I swear . . .”

“We have our knives,” she said, “if it comes to that.”

“And my old sword,” Kuri said, patting his belt.

They looked at each other in the dim light. En-hedu raised her arms and placed one hand on each man’s shoulder. “It’s settled, then. We stay, and wait for Eskkar to return. And we stay alive.”

Long before midnight, the last of the fighting for Akkad had ended.

Korthac felt secure enough to station half his followers at the gates and let the rest get some sleep. The most serious fi ghting had occurred at the barracks. A few of the soldiers had managed to get their bows in play, and Takany had lost a dozen Egyptians, while almost twenty of Ariamus’s followers had died.

Taking the barracks had secured the city, and capturing Trella had made the victory complete. Most of Akkad’s soldiers had been in the wine shops and alehouses, and the rest taken by surprise. As important as the men, the captured barracks held almost all of the soldiers’ weapons—the bows, swords, knives, and axes needed to defend the city. With the barracks Empire Rising

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and Eskkar’s house taken, the remainder of the soldiers had headed for the main gate, trying to rally their forces there.

For a time the soldiers blocked the entrances to the guard towers, but without someone to lead them, they had little choice but to surrender. A few scrambled down the wall and escaped to the fields, but Korthac didn’t worry about them. Ariamus would have men hunting them down in the morning.

Dawn brought a new era to Akkad. People did not leave their houses, huddling inside in fear, while Korthac’s men roamed the streets, looting the shops and random homes, guzzling wine and assaulting women. After letting the pillaging go on for most of the morning as a reward for his men, Korthac issued orders to his Egyptians, and they soon had the city’s inhabitants and Ariamus’s ruffians under control.

The killings began just before noon. All those who had insulted Korthac during his stay in the city died, as did those who spoke out against their new ruler. The nobles and leading merchants, summoned to the marketplace under threat of death to them and their families, swore allegiance on their knees to Korthac. He promulgated a series of orders, the fi rst of which instructed everyone to turn in any weapons in their possession at once.

All persons caught carrying or possessing a sword or bow would be put to death on the spot, along with their families. All persons speaking of Eskkar or Trella would have their tongues cut out. The process of teaching Eskkar’s citizens their new place in Korthac’s world had begun.

Korthac returned to Eskkar’s house by midafternoon, tired and hungry. The long night and hectic morning had wearied him, but he still had one task to perform. Accompanied by Ariamus, he climbed the stairs to Trella’s quarters. His guards moved aside as he stepped into the bedroom.

Annok-sur and Trella rose from the bed as he entered, Annok-sur’s arm around Trella’s shoulders. The room seemed hot, and the smell of fear and blood lingered inside the walls.

“You are well, I hope, Lady Trella?” He kept his voice pleasant and smiled at her discomfort.

“What is it you want . . . Honorable Korthac. Why have you . . .”

“Whatever I want is what I’ll have, Lady Trella, and you will not question me again, about anything. You are mine now, as much as Akkad is mine. Follow me.”

He stepped back into the outer room. His men had returned the big 254

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table to its proper place, and he stood next to it. Trella moved toward him, and stopped just inside the workroom, Annok-sur a step behind her.

“Come here. Kneel before your new master.”

Trella hesitated. “Honorable Korthac . . .”

Moving swiftly, he caught Trella by the hair and yanked her in front of the table. He pushed her up against it, then slapped her across the face.

“You are my slave, Trella, for as long as I choose to let you live, and you will address me as ‘lord.’ Do you understand?”

Her hand went to her cheek, and she nodded. “Yes . . . lord.”

Annok-sur stepped into the workroom, but Korthac whirled to face her. “I did not give you leave to move about.” He turned to Ariamus. “Kill her if she leaves the bedroom.”

“Stay inside, Annok-sur,” Trella said, “don’t let . . .”

Korthac turned back to her. “You do not give orders to anyone any longer.” He struck her again, harder this time; blood dripped from her mouth and she slipped to her knees, as much from the blow as his order to kneel. “If you speak out of turn again, if you fail to obey the least of my orders, I’ll have the child cut from your body and tossed into the fire.”

He smiled as she moved herself upright, but remained on her knees.

For a moment he was tempted to have her pleasure him right then and there. It would be fitting humiliation for her, in front of a roomful of strangers. But such things could wait, and he felt too tired to enjoy it properly. Besides, every day that passed would add to her embarrassment.

“Keep her in these rooms. The door is to remain open. She is to see no one, speak to no one. If she complains or gives you any trouble, kill her servants in front of her, one by one, starting with Annok-sur.”

Looking down at her, he noticed the thin strand of leather hanging around her neck. He pulled it toward him, lifting a gold coin up from between her breasts. “You’ll have no need for gold any more, Lady Trella.”

With a quick jerk, he snapped the leather, then raised the coin to his eyes.

It was simply a common coin, one with Nicar’s mark on it, and a thin groove. Korthac tossed the coin to one of his men. It pleased him to take it from her. Obviously the coin meant something special to her, and now it, too, was gone. She’d learn soon enough that she had nothing, was nothing.

He reached out and ran his fingers through Trella’s hair, enjoying its texture. Gradually he tightened his grip until her head twisted upward, the hair pulled back from her face, her eyes wide with distress. When she started to gasp from the pain, he relaxed his hand, then gently brushed Empire Rising

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the few loose strands from her eyes. Yes, she’d give him plenty of pleasure before he finished with her.

Trella sat on the bed, trying to think. In less than a day, Korthac had seized Akkad and established himself as the city’s ruler. He’d killed, captured, or driven into hiding Akkad’s mighty archers. She’d become a prisoner, worse, a slave, only this time she had a child due in a few weeks.

The last word from Eskkar had come three days ago, informing her yet again that he intended to remain in the north a little longer.

Her fists clenched in anger, furious at her husband for taking his pleasures in Bisitun, while Akkad and she fell into Korthac’s hands. How dare he leave her like this. He should have returned weeks ago to protect her. She wanted to . . . no, she needed Eskkar, needed him to save her and their unborn child. The thought that he might abandon them to their fate, turn away from her and Akkad, frightened her. She thought about his new woman, and that image made her rage increase. Perhaps he’d choose a fresh life with his new concubine, choose to avoid a fight and continue his life in the north. That image tortured her for a long moment, until she regained control of her emotions.

No, she decided. Eskkar would not abandon her. If for no other reason than his barbarian code of honor, he would return to destroy Korthac for what he’d done. If he still lived. Trella shook her head. Without him, if he were dead, there would be no hope to escape the fate that Korthac planned for her and the child. She had to believe that he remained alive, that he would come for her. She could cling to that.

“We must get word to Eskkar,” Trella whispered to Annok-sur, seated beside her. “He’ll need to know how strong a force Korthac has assembled.”

“Don’t forget, Bantor is due any day. Together they’ll . . .”

“Korthac isn’t afraid of Eskkar or Bantor, Annok-sur. Did you see how many men he has? I counted as many as I could when they took me to the gate. He must have at least a hundred and fifty, maybe two hundred. More than enough to control the city and stop anyone from rising up against him. Only Eskkar can rally the people to resist.”

“Assuming that he’s still alive,” Annok-sur said.

“He has to be alive, or we’re all lost,” Trella said. “Besides, how could they kill him up in Bisitun, guarded by Grond and surrounded by his men?”

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“Both Korthac and Ariamus said Eskkar is dead.”

“Do you believe them? They offered no proof.”

Her own question made Trella stop and think. Proof would be Eskkar’s head, or a dozen witnesses to his death. She took her time, trying to recall the Egyptian’s exact words, and comparing them to those she’d overheard from the boasting Ariamus. Korthac had claimed his men had struck down Eskkar in Bisitun’s lanes, but Ariamus said Eskkar and his men had been killed in a fight. The slight difference might not mean much, but she needed something to give her hope.

“Korthac knows Bantor is returning,” Trella said, her mind beginning to think clearly once again. “Ariamus has taken every horse he could find and ridden south. They’ll meet Bantor’s men on the road, long before they arrive here.”

“Bantor has plenty of men, trained men. They won’t be easy to defeat.”

Trella shook her head. “No, Korthac must have some plan in mind.

If Bantor’s force is defeated, even driven off, Korthac can turn his full attention to the north. He’s defeating Eskkar’s forces piece by piece. That’s his plan.” She reached out and took Annok-sur’s hand. “I fear for your husband.”

“Ariamus will find killing Bantor harder than he thinks. Bantor hates the man since . . . from the old days, when he was captain of the guard.”

She put her arm around Trella. “And Eskkar isn’t easy to stop, either.”

“I wanted Eskkar back here, but now . . . it’s better that he remains up north. He might be safer there.”