Authors: Sam Barone
Esk kar had the same grim thought. “Maybe. We’ll see what Mesilim has learned. Besides, it can only help to have thirty or so horsemen protecting our rear. And tired or not, they’ll kill at least that many before they’re finished.”
The Ur Nammu didn’t arrive until long after midnight and even in the moonlight they looked played out. Esk kar bade Mesilim rest while Orak’s riders kept guard. At dawn they started moving west, though at a slow pace. Some Ur Nammu horses were going lame, and their riders spent as much time leading them as riding. Everyone kept looking behind, wondering when a horde of Alur Meriki would appear.
Esk kar took stock of Mesilim’s band. Esk kar counted thirty - eight men, five women, and seven children of various ages riding forty - four horses.
There were no infants or small children. Those would have been left behind to die or killed by their parents. Both men and beasts looked ready to drop. The exhausted children, eyes wide with hunger, looked as pitiful as the warriors. All would reach Orak none too soon.
Esk kar walked his horse between Mesilim and Subutai. From a captured Alur Meriki scout, Mesilim had learned much, and they’d watched the Alur Meriki raiding parties traveling south. For men trapped within an ever - shrinking circle around Orak, any information was welcome.
By nightfall they’d journeyed far enough away from danger and close enough to Orak that Esk kar began to relax. They made camp, and the Ur Nammu fell asleep as soon as they fi nished eating the last of the soldiers’
food.
In the morning Esk kar gave half his men to Sisuthros and told him to return to his patrols. The extra men would help the subcommander begin the final burning. The Alur Meriki would reach Orak soon. Esk kar was determined that they find nothing of value in their path. Crops burned in every field. Houses, corrals, anything that would burn would be put to the torch. Only the wells remained untouched. With so many small streams and irrigation canals nearby, it would have done little good to contami-nate wells by dumping dead animals into them. He hoped the Alur Meriki would leave them as clean when they moved on.
They topped the last hill ringing the plains around Orak at midafternoon. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of the village’s walls.
During the day Esk kar had twice been challenged by patrols from the village. Bantor’s men would take no chances on a barbarian band slipping through their midst.
The men and women riding behind Esk kar began to talk at the sight of Orak, its wall rising out of the earth. Even at this distance, they saw the gangs of men laboring before the wall, digging out the final stretch of the ditch.
None of the Ur Nammu had ever seen a village so large, nor a wall so strong and tall. To the north the flooding of the fields had begun. The south side would be flooded as soon as the Ur Nammu departed.
“Rest tonight, Mesilim. Tomorrow you can give me your advice as to how you would attack Orak.”
Mesilim and his son stared at the village, impressed as much by its size as its wall.
“With all the people driven here by the Alur Meriki,” Esk kar commented, “there are nearly three thousand people in Orak. More have crossed the river.”
“Until now,” Mesilim began, “I didn’t believe you could resist the Alur Meriki. Now I see that you may have a chance.”
“More than just a chance.” Esk kar smiled with satisfaction. “There’s much to show you.”
They rode slowly toward the gate and as they neared the walls, the laborers paused to stare at the unusual group. Soon curious villagers crowded the walls. A few began cheering when they recognized Esk kar riding at the head of the small band of allies. Esk kar led them away from the main gate and guided Mesilim’s people along the ditch that ran parallel to the south wall, then on until they reached the river.
As they paced their horses along, people kept shouting from the wall and waving their hands in greeting. The Ur Nammu seemed astonished at the sight and Esk kar realized that they hadn’t given any thought about how they might be received by the villagers. When the little band reached the river, they turned once again. They’d camp alongside the wall at the river’s edge, out of sight of anyone on the hilltops to the east.
An open space awaited them, with two water barrels, hay and grain for the horses, a great stack of firewood, and two bullocks on spits, already butchered and ready for roasting. A pile of blankets lay stacked beside the water barrels. A small rope corral would hold their horses, with fodder placed inside. The animals had sorely lacked grain in recent months.
Esk kar signaled their journey’s end by dismounting. “Camp here, Mesilim. If there’s anything you need, it will be provided. If you bathe in the river, be careful. The current is strong except along the water’s edge. It can pull down a horse and rider even at this time of year. I’ll return in a few hours.”
He led his horse through the river gate and found Trella waiting for him. Two soldiers now guarded her at all times. He took her hand and they walked back to the house. Inside the courtyard, Trella went to fetch him clean clothes while he headed to the well to wash the dirt and horse smell from his body. By the time he’d finished, Trella rejoined him, a clean tunic and undergarment in her hands.
“I watched from the wall,” she said. “As soon as you left, they rushed for the food and water. They must be nearly starving.”
“They’re in bad shape. They were lucky to get past the Alur Meriki’s lines. But they’ve already paid their way with information. They captured an Alur Meriki messenger and tortured him until he told them all he knew.
The messenger revealed that they plan to send a force across the river in four or five days’ time. That means we’ll have to meet them across the river soon. By then, warriors will be on the hills surrounding Orak. A few days later, they’ll be ready to attack.”
“You’ll be back before then, I hope.”
Her tone implied that he would be in more trouble with her than with the barbarian raiding party if he weren’t.
“Yes, even if the ambush fails, I’ll come straight back. I’ll leave in three days. It will be a slow march north to the ambush site and we may need time to prepare. Did you make the preparations I requested?”
“We met with the craftsmen, and everything should be ready by noon tomorrow. But you didn’t tell me they had women and children.”
“There were so few of them, I didn’t think it was important.”
She looked at him, but Esk kar held up his hand. “I know, everything is important. But truly, they didn’t mention them except in passing. Do they really matter?”
“Perhaps. But now there are more things I must do. Come inside. Supper is on the table.”
“Yes, wife,” he answered dutifully. Village women could prove a trial for their men. There were advantages to being a barbarian after all, especially when it came to dealing with women.
Two hours later Esk kar returned to the Ur Nammu camp dressed in his best tunic, but wearing his short sword, and accompanied by Jalen and Gatus, whom he introduced to Mesilim and Subutai.
Much had happened in the last hours. The horses had been fed, then led to the river to be washed and groomed. The men and women had taken their own baths, probably the first in many weeks. Their clothing had been soaked and scrubbed, and now was drying on their bodies.
The children had been fed, then wrapped in blankets. The littlest ones slept, their stomachs full for the first time in weeks. For the adults, food was now the main order of business. They gathered around the fires, eagerly slicing off chunks of roasting meat. Four wineskins had been provided, enough to give everyone a good drink, but not enough to get anyone drunk.
“I have some gifts, Mesilim,” Esk kar began, as he and his men sat down a little away from the fires, facing Mesilim and Subutai. Esk kar motioned to Gatus, who placed a blanket on the ground between them and unwrapped it. Inside was a slim lance tipped with bronze, an arrow, a bowstring, and a sword.
Esk kar saw the confusion on Mesilim’s face. “Your men have lost much equipment, so tomorrow you will have sixty lances such as this. Also, for each man, fifty arrows and five extra bowstrings, and as many swords and knives as you need.”
Bowstrings always seemed to be breaking. As important as the bow itself, they proved even harder to come by in the field.
Subutai leaned over and picked up the arrow, eyeing it to make sure it was the proper size for their curved bows. “Your arrows are longer and heavier. Where did you get so many shafts this size?”
“We made them, Subutai. That is, they’ll be finished by tomorrow evening. The fletchers started as soon as I sent word. The same with the lance.
These are weapons for those who fight from horseback, and though we don’t use such weapons ourselves, we can make them quickly now.” That impressed them. It would have taken them weeks to make so many arrows.
“Whatever else you …” Esk kar’s voice died away as Mesilim’s eyes shifted from him. Turning, Esk kar saw a group of seven women approach the camp, two of them carrying torches now that dusk had fallen. Each woman carried a bundle or basket of various size and shape. Trella walked in their midst, wearing her finest dress and escorted by her guards, Annok -
sur beside her, carrying one of the torches.
The torchlight procession had a strange effect on the tribesmen. They could see that a woman of importance was coming. Trella’s fine dress and the guards conveyed that fact, as much as the obvious respect shown by the accompanying women. Conversation and eating ceased throughout the camp. Everyone rose to their feet in respect, an unusual gesture for such men.
The leading women stopped when they reached Esk kar’s group and Trella passed through them to move to Esk kar’s side. Once there, she bowed to the visitors, then turned to Esk kar.
He felt her effect as much as did the others. In the flickering torchlight she looked like one touched by the gods. Only the hissing and snapping of the torches broke the silence.
Esk kar found his voice and made the introductions.
She bowed low again, then straightened, erect and proud. “I welcome you to Orak, Clan Leader Mesilim, and your brave son, Subutai.”
Esk kar translated her words, then nodded to her to continue.
“We honor your fight against our common enemy. My husband did not tell me you had women and children, so we had not prepared for them.
Now we bring them gifts and clothing.”
Trella’s voice sounded serene and regal. Mesilim might not understand her words, but he clearly recognized her presence. He looked at her, as much at a loss for words as Esk kar had been a moment ago. Subutai stared at her with his mouth open.
“Honored wife, Trella,” Mesilim began, “you honor us by your presence and your gifts. We welcome you to our campfire. Esk kar told us you were a ‘gifted one,’ but we did not expect you to visit us.”
Trella glanced at Esk kar as he translated, and he read the question in her glance. “Gifted One?” she would say tonight, followed no doubt by the
“everything is important” speech.
She bowed again to Mesilim. “Your visit honors us, as does your offer to help in our fight. How could I do less? Now, I must leave you to your talk while we tend to your women, if I have your leave?”
When she left, they sat back down. No one spoke for a moment. Esk kar saw Gatus struggling to keep a grin off his face. Trella did look and act as if she had the power to command both men and spirits. Perhaps it wasn’t just superstition. Maybe she did have the gift, and maybe a group of barbarians could see it more clearly than Esk kar could.
They watched as she went to the women, but found herself surrounded by Mesilim’s men. The Ur Nammu women had to push the men aside.
Fashod stood at Trella’s side, translating for her, then helped with the distribution of clothing and other gifts. The commotion went on for some time until the women led Trella and her companions away from the men.
They sat a short distance from the fire, to talk about things that concerned women only.
Even Fashod stayed away, leaving one of the women to do the translating. Trella asked her guards to move back as well. After watching for a while, the tribesmen returned to the fire and their food, but their eyes often returned to Trella and the women, lighted now only by the flickering torches that began to burn low.
Mesilim shook his head and turned back to Esk kar and his men. “Never have I seen the women act like that, to take a stranger into their midst and pay honor to her. She truly has the gift, to move my people so easily.”
“She’s wise beyond her seasons,” Esk kar added. “Her wisdom guides me and gives me strength.”
Gatus spoke unexpectedly. “Her wisdom guides all of us, Mesilim. My wife, who has more than twice her seasons, stands at her side and heeds her every word.”
Esk kar translated Gatus’s words with another smile.
“Chief Esk kar, why do those men guard her?” Subutai inquired. “Surely no one would harm one with the gift.”
Esk kar shook his head in disgust. “I have not been war leader in Orak for long, Subutai. Two weeks ago, one of my enemies tried to kill her. He was angered at her wisdom and thought to attack me by killing her. She was wounded but survived, and now I make sure that it doesn’t happen again.”
“The clan responsible was killed?” Mesilim made it more of a state-ment than a question.
“All those involved died, slain by the people,” Esk kar said carefully. “I don’t think it will happen again.” No sense trying to explain local politics to tribesmen who tended to see everything as white or black. Depending on the offense, barbarians might hold an entire clan responsible for the misdeed of one of its members.
“Nor will it,” Gatus added firmly, after Esk kar explained Subutai’s question. “Everyone has been warned.”
“Guard her well, Esk kar,” Subutai suggested. “If the Alur Meriki knew you had one such as her, they’d tear the walls down to take her.”
Esk kar looked at him, reading beneath the man’s words echoes of what Subutai himself might like to do. Esk kar felt surprised at his intuition.