Empire Rising (56 page)

“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 Empire Rising

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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 326

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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.”

21

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K orthac woke a few hours after he’d finished taking his pleasure with the young girl, who still lay in a heap on the floor, her legs streaked with blood. He’d told her not to move, and enjoyed the satisfaction of seeing she’d learned obedience.

Too young for the love act, she had sobbed at the pain. He’d enjoyed that, too, watching the fright in her eyes that terrorized her as much as the suffering. For the last four nights he’d taken a fresh young bedmate, alternating between sexes, enjoying at last the opportunity to satisfy himself without restraint. Not that Korthac ever felt driven by such basic needs, as most men were. He’d spent months in the desert without companionship of any kind, and considered it only a minor inconvenience. Nevertheless, now that he had all of Akkad at his feet and eager to please him, he intended to make up for being deprived.

When he grew bored with the young children of the nobles and richer traders, he would start with their daughters and wives, keeping a half-dozen or so on hand as concubines until they became pregnant. When that happened, he would send them home to their families and watch their faces as they reared his children. Korthac determined to fill the city with his offspring, so that, in the years to come, everyone could see the power of his conquest.

Tonight’s diversion had been less than satisfying. The room he’d taken on the lower floor of Eskkar’s house two days ago had no door, just a heavy curtain for privacy. In another day or so, he would move into the upper rooms and banish Trella to this humble chamber. She would sleep on 328

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the floor, sharing a blanket with her servant Annok-sur. After a few days, Trella would have the blanket for herself; Korthac planned to hand over Annok-sur to his men before putting her to the torture.

He had let Trella keep her quarters, more as a gesture to the people than out of any concern for her comfort. Korthac knew that many in Akkad felt compassion for Trella. His men controlled the city, but there was no reason to give its inhabitants something else to complain about, at least not for another few days.

Though tonight, Korthac felt tempted to order Trella out. Earlier in the day, he’d visited her again, and decided her eyes still showed traces of disrespect. He’d slapped her hard a few times, until real pain showed in her face and blood flowed from her mouth. When she assumed a properly ser-vile manner, he ran his finger through her hair, enjoying the fear that she could no longer conceal. On her knees and in tears, she’d scarcely crawled back to her room when her labor began.

Since then, through the evening meal and continuing long into the night, servants had crept past Korthac’s room, moving up and down the stairs to her quarters. Even now her muffled groans echoed throughout the house, diluting his pleasure and upsetting his sleep. He’d be glad when she dropped the babe, or died in the delivery.

Not that he wanted her to die. He planned to keep her beside him, to show the city’s inhabitants that he possessed complete control over their lives. Perhaps he wouldn’t need her for much longer. Since he’d seized power three days ago, his men had killed more than a hundred people, and the brutal lessons appeared to be working. The last two nights had seen Akkad quiet down.

Anyone who protested, anyone who failed to show proper respect, anyone who failed to yield to his men as they walked the street, all met the same fate: torture and death in the city’s marketplace. The people of Akkad had taken the first step to their proper place in his world—on their knees and at his feet.

As for Trella, he would wait until she became fit to bed. He wanted to enjoy the look in her eyes when he took her. Her child would be the means to keep her respectful, and he intended to turn her into the most obedient and pleasure-giving slave in the city. Yes, that would satisfy him for some time, perhaps even a few months. When he grew tired of Trella, she would pleasure every one of his men. Only then would he toss the child into the flames, in front of her.

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Unable to sleep, Korthac rose from his bed as he contemplated that pleasant future. He often went through days when he found it difficult to sleep at night, and had learned not to fight against it. Better to just get up and walk around.

Another muffled moan from upstairs recalled Trella to his thoughts.

As soon as she gave birth, he’d move her out of her quarters and into this room. Then, at last, he would have privacy and a quiet place to sleep at night. Korthac had examined all of the larger residences in Akkad, and Eskkar’s home came closest to his ideal. It would do for a few months, until his new slaves built him a much grander residence.

He frowned at the faint voices drifting down from above. The lamp burned low, and he ordered the guard standing just outside his door to refill it. Fully awake, Korthac pulled on his tunic and belted the sword around his waist. The guard returned with more oil, and the room brightened again.

Korthac, wide awake now, noticed the forgotten child still staring at him from the floor, her tear-streaked face showing both fear and pain. “Go home,” he ordered. “Tell your family that you failed to please me.” That would bring terror to her parents, who would wonder what horror would befall them next.

He went outside, taking a deep breath of the fresh night air. His room had only a small aperture high in the wall for ventilation, and its air easily grew stale. A glance at the heavens told him midnight had already passed.

Korthac walked around the compound, checking the guards at the courtyard gate, and stopping at the soldiers’ quarters to make sure they stood ready.

Not that he expected trouble. After the bloodbath of the first day, he had crushed every look or word of opposition. His men executed two entire families, dragging them to the marketplace so that all could witness his power. One man dared to protest the new tax, and the other had struck one of his Egyptians. Korthac determined to kill any that failed to show respect.

Meanwhile his followers grew more numerous with each day, paid for with the tax he demanded from the nobles. Most of his newest followers appeared little better than rabble. Once again he wished for another hundred of his Egyptian fighters. Not that it mattered. He had enough men, and Ariamus continued to gather more. In three or four weeks, all in Akkad would have forgotten all about their previous lives.

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Feeling refreshed by the night air, Korthac sat at the big table in the garden, glancing up at the starry sky. A nervous servant brought water and wine out to him, and Korthac listened with half-interest to the report of the night-watch commander. The city remained quiet, its inhabitants in their homes where they belonged, afraid to step out on the streets at night.

Since the first day of the city’s capture, he had given his men free rein after darkness fell. That meant they could stop any man or woman they encountered away from their homes. After that first night, the streets and lanes were deserted, as families huddled together in their huts.

That didn’t protect them for long. His men soon began entering houses at random, pulling wives and daughters from their families’ arms. Korthac knew that he would have to restrain his men somewhat after a few more days, but for now, they kept the inhabitants paralyzed with fear while they indulged themselves in the spoils of war.

Another cry came from the house. Annoyed, Korthac finished his wine and went back inside. He climbed the stairs and entered the outer room.

One of his Egyptians waited there, detailed to guard Trella and keep her in her chamber. Korthac paused at the bedroom door. Two lamps burned inside, adding the bitter tang of heated oil to the dank, warm air that smelled of sweat and birthing blood.

Annok-sur sat on a stool next to the bed, holding Trella’s hand. She lay there, legs apart, moaning in pain. Sweat covered her naked body, and her hair hung limply over her face. Even in her suffering, Trella knew better than to try and cover her body from her master’s eyes. Two other women attended her, one of them he recognized as the midwife. Korthac remembered how Annok-sur, on her knees before him, begged him to grant the midwife safe passage into Akkad and back to her home after the birth. It had pleased him to agree.