Authors: Sam Barone
Esk kar ran up the stairs to the bedroom. Ventor and Annok - sur sat perched on stools on either side of the bed. To his surprise, Trella had regained consciousness. Her eyes turned to him.
Her guardians rose and left the room, leaving him alone with Trella.
Esk kar took Ventor’s place on the stool and picked up Trella’s hand, trying to keep his from shaking. “Are you in much pain?” He leaned down and kissed her cheek.
She smiled. Her voice sounded weak but steady. “It’s not so bad, husband. Now I know what a warrior feels from his wounds. Your hand shakes, Esk kar. Is something else wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong, Trella. We caught the man who did this. Just a common thief hired to do murder. Caldor paid him ten gold coins, plus a fine horse, to kill you. I should have killed both him and Nestor as soon as I returned to Orak.”
He shook his head in disgust at his failure. “We’re searching for Caldor, and we’ll find him soon. No man will risk hiding him, and the village is sealed.”
Her eyes closed for a moment, and her next words surprised him. “Poor Nicar, to endure this. He knew nothing of this, I’m sure. Don’t hurt Nicar, Esk kar. You need him.”
Esk kar shook his head. “This will cause a blood feud between us. Caldor dies tonight and Nicar will never forgive his death. Better that he and his family go the way of Drigo. No one in Orak cares. None will deny me my revenge.”
“We need men like Nicar and his son, Lesu. They’re good men and must not die over Caldor’s foolishness. Find some way to avoid killing Caldor.”
Her eyes closed before he could protest, but Esk kar knew she was thinking, so he waited, holding her hand.
She opened her eyes and began to speak. He had to lean closer to hear her words. When she finished, he looked at her. “It may not work, but I’ll try.”
A knock on the door made him look up. Ventor stood in the doorway.
“Let her sleep, Captain. She needs to rest now.”
Trella tried to speak, but Esk kar leaned down and kissed her lips gently. “Rest, as the healer commands. You’re safe now, and I’ll be with you soon.”
He left the chamber and went downstairs, turning into the kitchen and asking the cook for wine and something to eat. Esk kar sat on a stool at the small cutting table for a long time, ignoring the wine and the cheese placed before him. Everyone in the house feared to speak to him.
He remained there unmoving until cries from the courtyard announced Sisuthros had returned. Rising, he found Maldar and Bantor waiting outside the kitchen, standing silently in the main room.
“Did they find him?” was all Esk kar asked as they went out. In the torchlight, he saw Nicar on a stool someone had given him, his head slumped forward in his hands. Corio looked up, saw Esk kar in the doorway, and shook his head in disbelief.
The soldiers dragged two men toward him, their hands bound—Caldor and Loki.
Nicar’s younger son had blood on his face and a cut above his eye. Lo-ki’s face showed fear. A mere servant, he had no powerful father to protect him. The crowd’s hate would frighten anyone.
One of the soldiers grabbed Caldor and threw him to the ground, while another kicked the legs out from under Loki. Both twisted about in the dirt, trying to get back to their knees.
Sisuthros stepped forward, a grin on his face. “Here they are, Captain.
Caldor was hiding in a secret room in the cellar. Loki tried to get away over the back wall. Nicar’s guards tried to stop us from entering and I had to kill one.” Fresh blood stained Sisuthros’s arm and tunic.
Esk kar moved closer and looked down at the two men, his face expressionless.
Caldor saw his father held back by guards. “Father, help me! Don’t let them do this!”
“Bantor, take Caldor into the house,” said Esk kar. “Keep him quiet. If he makes a sound, break something.”
Bantor’s men grinned as they scooped Caldor up and dragged him into the house, one of them clapping a hand over his mouth to keep him silent.
Esk kar turned his attention to Loki, a man of thirty seasons who’d probably been Caldor’s servant from his youth. “Bring him around back.”
Soldiers dragged the terrified servant to the back of the house where Natram - zar still dangled from the tree, unconscious, blood oozing from his mouth. One of the soldiers had probably knocked the man out to stop the screaming.
Loki saw the man’s genitals burnt black and caught the smell of burning flesh that lingered in the air.
“Bring the nobles closer.” Esk kar waited until the five men approached, each escorted by one of Gatus’s men. Esk kar grabbed Loki by his hair and twisted it savagely so the servant stared directly at Natram - zar.
“Look closely, Loki. This is what awaits you, if you don’t speak the truth. We know what happened. Natram - zar told us everything. Now you’ll tell us everything you know about the attack on Trella. One hesitation, one lie, and we’ll put you in Natram - zar’s place, and you’ll suffer an even worse fate.” He pushed the man hard, and Loki fell to the ground.
“Look at me, Loki, and remember. One lie … one hesitation. Now, start at the beginning and tell me everything.”
Loki’s breath came fast, the shallow breathing of a man in great fear who can no longer control his emotions. He looked beseechingly at Nicar.
“Noble Nicar, please help me. I didn’t do anything. I just …”
“Strip him and tie him to the tree. Bring more wood for the fi re.” Eskkar wasn’t going to waste time with the servant, not with Caldor waiting inside. But Loki twisted free as the men tried to lift him and threw himself at Esk kar’s feet. “No, please, Noble! I’ll tell you everything, everything! …
I’m sorry! … I’m sorry!”
Esk kar ignored his cries as the men cut Loki’s clothes off. Others untied Natram - zar, then fastened Loki in his place. Loki screamed when a soldier brought more fuel, dumping fresh coals on the fire.
The soldier fanned the embers with the shard until the flames rose up again. Then he picked up the bowl and moved it under Loki’s legs. Another man tossed more wood chips into the fire, as guards took position on either side of the helpless prisoner.
Loki cried out, then began to urinate uncontrollably as his body twitched from side to side. The flames hissed from the man’s piss, but kept burning. Loki’s eyes were wide with terror and his voice shrill with panic as he begged for mercy.
“Add more wood,” Esk kar ordered. “Make it burn hotter.”
“Caldor made me do it, Noble.” Loki’s voice sounded frantic. “It was Caldor. He paid Natram - zar ten gold pieces to kill her. He wanted her dead … he wanted her dead.”
The soldier looked up at Esk kar.
“Wait.”
In a broken voice, Loki’s story came out with scarcely any prompting.
The amount of gold, the silver for the horse, the meetings with Natram -
zar in the tavern, Loki knew it all. The details matched the assassin’s story.
None could doubt it now. Caldor was guilty, and every man in the courtyard knew it. When Loki finished, he sagged against the ropes, tears running down his cheeks.
“Gag him, then bring out Caldor,” Esk kar ordered. “It’s time we heard his story.” When Bantor dragged Caldor from the house the soldiers let out a roar of curses as they demanded his death. The sound echoed against the walls, carrying to those crowding the street.
They dragged Caldor before Esk kar and again shoved him to his knees, his hands still tied behind him.
“Silence!” Esk kar roared, then waited until everyone quieted down. It became as quiet as death and his words carried throughout the courtyard.
“Caldor, we’ve spoken with Natram - zar and with Loki. They told us everything. About the gold, the horse, the plan. It’s all out in the open. Now it’s your turn to speak, or you’ll replace Loki on the tree. Tell me why you wanted to kill Trella.”
Caldor looked at his father, held upright by two guards, more to keep him from falling than to restrain him. “Father, this … it’s all lies! I did nothing, nothing. Tell them, father.” Caldor’s voice sounded high and shrill, like a child’s, as he realized for the fi rst time in his life that even his father might not save him.
Esk kar turned toward Nicar, who stood ashen - faced at the horror facing him. The mob and soldiers would demand his son’s death, and now Nicar must fear the same fate for himself and his House.
“Tell them, my son.” Nicar forced each word from his lips. “Tell them the truth and save yourself from the torture.”
“I didn’t do anything, Father, it must have been Loki who did it! He wanted Trella from when she was in our house. Loki … it was Loki!”
Strangled sounds came from the gagged Loki as he heard his young master blame him. Loki twisted and struggled, but the men and ropes held him fast.
Esk kar’s anger flared and he grasped Caldor by the hair. “Where did Loki get ten gold coins, Caldor? And twelve for the horse? Did Loki have that much gold, and would he spend it simply to see a woman die? Do you pay your servant that much?”
A sound of satisfaction went through the courtyard as the soldiers saw how easily their commander had caught Caldor in his lies.
“Please, Esk kar, please spare my son.” Nicar begged as his son knelt in the dirt, trying to find words to answer. “We’ll give you gold … leave Orak … do anything you want. Please spare his life, Noble Esk kar.”
Nicar had never used the honorific toward him before, but Esk kar ignored the words. “Should I spare his life so he can try again to kill Trella, or give more money to Sisuthros to betray me?”
A gasp went through the soldiers, all eyes turning to Sisuthros. “Yes, it’s true,” Esk kar went on. “Caldor gave another bag of gold to Sisuthros and promised more for my death. But Sisuthros came to me and told me about it. I should have killed Caldor, but I thought the young fool would learn his lesson and behave himself.”
While Esk kar spoke, Sisuthros reached into his belt and drew out the small pouch that contained Caldor’s gold. Opening it, he flung the coins in the dirt at Caldor’s feet.
Caldor’s terror was complete now. “Father, please! She’s only a slave!
Give him silver, no, gold to satisfy him!”
Nicar’s son knew the customs of the village. If a man injured another man’s slave, or even killed him, the usual penalty was ten silver coins. “He can buy ten women better than her! I can’t die over a slave! Please, father!
Please! …” His voice trailed off.
“You fool, Caldor!” Nicar, his face red with anger as he twisted helplessly in the guard’s arms, shouted the words at his son. “She’s not a slave! Esk kar freed her before he left the village, witnessed in secret before myself and Corio. They were married by the priest in Ishtar’s temple. She’s his wife!”
Everyone looked at Esk kar in astonishment
“Let him go,” Esk kar said to the guards holding Nicar’s arms.
Nicar stood there, swaying on his feet. Then he stepped forward and struck his son across the face, a hard blow that knocked him backward off his knees. “You foolish child! You’ve tried to kill a free woman, not a slave.”
Nicar struggled to catch his breath. He looked ready to collapse.
“Nicar.” Esk kar stepped toward him. The soldiers waited for the order that would slay Caldor and his father. “Nicar, you’ve shown nothing but respect for me and Trella. I gave you my word to defend Orak because I saw how much the village means to you. So I’ll spare your life, even the life of your foolish son.”
Esk kar glanced around at the soldiers, who listened in shock to his words. “Instead, I’ll leave Orak. If the Families want to get rid of me so badly, I’ll save them the trouble. As soon as Trella can ride, we’re leaving Orak. You can defeat the barbarians yourself, or not. It will mean nothing to me. If any wish to follow me, they are welcome.”
He turned toward Bantor. “Release Nicar’s child,” he said scornfully, then turned again to face Nicar. “Now go. Take your gold and hope by all the gods that I never see your son again.”
Bantor didn’t move. No one moved. No one said anything as the moments passed by. Even Nicar stood frozen, until Caldor’s voice broke the spell.
“Yes, Father, yes! Take me home. Let the barbarian go! Let him go!”
Gatus slapped his hand on his sword. “By Marduk, I’ll go with you! I’ll not fight for cowards who would stab a woman in the back. But first I’ll take care of this little shit.” He pulled the weapon from its sheath and stepped toward Caldor.
Esk kar blocked Gatus. “No. Put your sword away.”
Bantor spoke. “I, too, will go with you.” He stepped past Esk kar and used his foot to push Caldor back down. “And any of the men who want to fight.”
Sisuthros joined in, and his voice rose up over all the others. “We’ll all go! We don’t need Orak. We can build our own village to the west with Esk kar as our leader. Better to build and battle for our own than to fight for cowards and murderers.”
A roar of assent went up, echoing off the courtyard walls into the night sky. Swords flashed in the torchlight. The men called out Esk kar or Trella’s name, others shouted “death to Caldor.”
Outside the courtyard, men took up the cry. Dozens had listened from the edge of the garden, hanging over the top of the wall to see and hear what went on. But others joined in, repeating the shouts from the courtyard, without fully understanding what had happened.
Esk kar stood there. He could scarcely believe what he heard. Never had he seen such emotion, such loyalty. No leader, no war chief, no village noble had ever been cheered like this. Right now, these men would follow him anywhere, do anything he said. He could lead a migration of his own. With nearly four hundred fighting men, they could go where they pleased and take what they wanted. This was power—suddenly he understood—real power, not the kind that one buys with gold. And he realized something else—that he ruled in Orak now. The soldiers and the villagers had given him the power.
Another voice had risen up, trying to be heard over the din. Corio pushed away from his guard and the master builder raised his arms high, asking to speak. Esk kar bellowed over the shouting, demanding silence.
It took time before it was quiet enough for Corio’s words to be heard.