Authors: Sam Barone
At the water’s edge, Esk kar tossed the blanket on a low bush, stripped, then dove in. At first he stayed in the calm of the eddy pool that hugged the river’s east bank, then moved away from the shore and took strong, overhand strokes against the current. That demanded hard work, and after a few strokes he had to use all his strength to avoid being swept downriver.
When Esk kar returned to the eddy pool, he rested in the chilled water.
Finally he pulled himself out of the river, reclaimed his blanket, and used it to dry off before returning to the barracks.
At least tonight he wouldn’t meet Nicar in a ragged garment with the smell of horses and wine on him. Putting on his one clean tunic, he considered wearing his short sword, then decided he wouldn’t need it. The men who might want him dead had left with Ariamus, and he doubted he had one enemy left in the village.
He returned to Nicar’s house. A few paces before Esk kar reached the gate, five men came out of Nicar’s courtyard and headed toward him.
Noble Drigo and his son, with three bodyguards, filled the narrow lane, and Esk kar had to stand aside to let them by. Noble Drigo glanced at him and smiled as he passed, the knowing smile of a man who already had all the answers.
When Esk kar stepped through Nicar’s gate, he found the boy who’d fetched him that morning again waiting for him. Once inside, the boy closed and bolted the door, then knelt with a damp cloth to clean Esk kar’s feet and sandals, removing the dirt of the street.
Nicar’s wife, Creta, had nearly as many years as her husband, and her hair had long since turned to silver. Everyone knew that Nicar preferred young slave girls as bed companions, but he treated his wife honorably and she managed his household efficiently.
Creta greeted Esk kar warmly enough, after a quick inspection to see if he were reasonably clean and presentable. She’d walked past him in the street many a time without ever noticing him. She escorted him to the dining chamber at the rear of the house, where he found a large table spread for only two. Creta gave him the briefest of bows and left him alone. A matronly servant brought wine, but Esk kar asked for water. In a few moments she returned, handing him a cup of chilled water as Nicar entered the room.
“Please sit down, Esk kar.” Nicar wore a different tunic tonight, one with red and blue stitching around the collar. “You had a long ride today, and we should eat first so that we have time to talk afterward. You’ll have something to drink, I trust?”
The servants began bringing food, one course at a time, and Esk kar found that somewhat strange. When the soldiers ate, everything got dumped on the plank table at once, to be wolfed down as quickly as possible before it disappeared.
Esk kar copied his host’s pace and ate slowly, taking small bites of the warm vegetables after dipping them in spiced oil imported from some distant land to the west. While they ate, Nicar did most of the talking, asking Esk kar about his early life and the many places he’d seen in his travels. He even asked about the steppes clans, what kind of people they were, why they lived the way they did. He talked of everything except the coming of the steppes people.
Esk kar realized that Nicar continued to study him, wanting to know what kind of man Esk kar was. More important, Nicar wanted to learn whether Esk kar had the wits to make any plan succeed.
The food was easily the best Esk kar had ever eaten. But the wine, like the portions, was served in small quantities. He decided that Nicar wanted him to have a clear head. When the servants finally cleared the table and refilled the wine cups, Nicar dismissed them, then closed the door.
Esk kar caught a glimpse of Creta sitting outside the door, sewing a garment by the light of a lamp, to make sure the servants didn’t eavesdrop on their master’s conversation. Not that it would do any good. Household slaves always knew everything that went on.
“So, tell me about your ride, Esk kar. What did you see?” Nicar returned to the table, eyes fixed on his guest.
“You want to know if Orak can be defended against the barbarians? It can be done, but the cost will be great, and you may not want to pay it.” He looked hard at Nicar, but his host said nothing.
“We cannot defeat them in battle. But we can make it too difficult to capture the village. If we can hold out for a month or two, they’ll have to move on, driven by a lack of food. So that’s what we must do—make it too costly for them to take the village, too expensive in terms of warriors and horses killed, too much time for a place that will be barren of food and horses even if they do capture it. That means we’ll have to kill many warriors, kill enough of them to make their leaders worry.”
Esk kar saw the questioning look on Nicar’s face. “The barbarians always have too many warriors, and not enough horses, women, or food.
That’s why they’re always fighting, even among themselves. The clan would actually welcome a chance to thin out the ranks, kill off the foolish, the young, or the weak. If they lose fifty or sixty warriors in return for the capture of a rich village, they’d be happy with the trade.”
Nicar nodded thoughtfully. “I understand. So they will welcome the fight, at least at first. So what must we do to make it too painful for them?”
“First, you must build a wall around the village. A real stone wall, something that cannot be pulled down or burned, at least four times the height of a man. And it will have to enclose a much larger area than the palisade does now.”
“The nobles have talked about building such a wall before, Esk kar, but nothing ever came of it. There was no need, and the cost and effort were too great. Now the barbarians come. Now, there is a need.”
“Remember, Nicar, we have to consult the masons to see if such a wall can even be built.”
“Yes, of course. What else is needed?”
“Second, all the huts and farmhouses outside this new wall must be torn down, removed completely, the ground leveled and stripped bare, and the farms and fields flooded again. The marshland mud will slow the horses down, and force them to approach the village from the land in front of the main gate.
“Third, every man must be trained to fight. That means training and arming as many archers as possible. Only the bow can drive off the Alur Meriki. We’ll need thousands of arrows and hundreds of bows, and men will have to train every day until they can hit their targets with confidence, while standing atop the wall. Also, there must be training with axes, spears, and swords, and finally with rocks to hurl at the attackers and forked staves to push their ladders away from the wall. Even the women and children must work and fight. We’ll have to train every day, build every day, and prepare for every possible attack. Everyone must work as they’ve never done before, so that when the barbarians arrive, all will be ready.”
Esk kar took a deep breath and sipped from his wine cup, grateful that he’d gotten the words out with scarcely a stumble.
“Orak must be stocked with food and water, enough for everyone for two or three months. The rest of the herds must be sent far away, across the river, where they’ll be safe. That will take men away from the village, as well as soldiers to guard them from bandits. The animals will be a tempting target. When the barbarians arrive, they must learn that we have no horses for plunder, no cattle, goats, or sheep.”
Nicar looked closely at him, sensing something more was coming. “And what else must we do?”
Esk kar was ready. “The slaves. We’ll need the slaves to labor as they’ve never done before, and we won’t have the time or men to guard them.
They must work on their own, and use all their skill. You’ll have to promise to free the slaves, Nicar, at least some of them, so they’ll have an incentive to work and fight.”
Nicar’s wine cup stopped halfway to his lips. “Free the slaves! You can’t be serious. After what we’ve paid for them? And if we free the slaves, how will we keep the village running?”
“Not all the slaves. Only those we need to work on the defenses, probably no more than half of them. You ran the village before you had so many slaves, didn’t you? Besides, if the barbarians come, you’ll lose your slaves along with your lives or be enslaved yourself. Either way, your slaves will be gone.
“If we succeed, instead of slaves you’ll have servants that you can pay until you find new slaves to replace them. Without the promise of freedom, Nicar, they won’t work very hard or they’ll slip away into the night, thinking that even the barbarians might treat them better. Don’t forget, many will die, both villagers and slaves, and you’ll need to replace them anyway.
“And one last thing, Nicar. You must speak for the entire village and the Five Families. I can organize the defense and determine what needs to be done, but there must be no quarrelling or arguing amongst the nobles or from any of the leading tradesmen. We must speak in one voice to everyone, so that all can see we’re determined to resist and to win. And whatever I ask for in the defense of the village, you’ll have to supply. I will not argue with you or anyone else. My orders must be obeyed by all, and without question. Even by you, Nicar. So I ask you. Do you speak for the Five Families?”
For a moment, Nicar looked a little taken aback by Esk kar’s demands.
“You ask for much. But there is truth in your words. The many quarrels among the Five Families are public gossip. They must be put aside to defend Orak.”
“And you will speak for all the Families?”
“Yes, I think they can all be persuaded, all except House Drigo. He will likely choose to go his own way.”
Esk kar didn’t think Noble Drigo could be dismissed so lightly. For the last few months, in Orak’s day - to - day affairs, Drigo’s men often acted as if their master alone ruled the village. Even Esk kar, who rarely had any interest in gossip, knew that Drigo contested with Nicar for authority, that Drigo constantly tried to sway the other Families to his side. So far, most preferred Nicar, who was certainly a more just and even - handed administrator.
“And if you cannot control Noble Drigo, what then?” Esk kar asked.
“He’s powerful, and many will follow whatever path he chooses.”
Nicar stared at him again, openly sizing him up. “It seems you are not quite as simple a soldier as I’ve been told.” He drank from his cup. “If you can develop a good plan to defend Orak, we may not need Drigo and his gold. Let me worry about Drigo.” Nicar waved his hand as if dismissing the matter. “But afterward, if we succeed in fending off the barbarians, what will we owe you, Esk kar?”
“Not that much, Nicar,” he laughed. “I have no grand ambitions. The Five Families will become six, and I’ll be your equal in the running of the village. Each of you will give me two ingots of gold, enough for me to set up my own house. For that, I will remain in Orak and we can start the planning for the barbarians’ next visit, because they’ll be back in another five or ten years. If we’re lucky enough to drive the Alur Meriki off, they will never forget the insult. They have long memories. They’ll be back someday, and we’ll have to fight them again. So I think you’ll need me again, and the sooner we start preparing, the better.”
Nicar shook his head. “So much waste and destruction. It would be better for all of us if they’d leave us alone.”
“They can never do that, Nicar. They live by taking what they need from others. It’s the only way they know. So, they will be back. This struggle may never be truly over until one or the other of us is destroyed.”
Nicar obviously hadn’t considered that the barbarians might return.
He said nothing for a moment, spinning the wine cup in his hands.
“One more thing, Esk kar. Some may wonder why you’d fight against your own kind. What would I say to them?”
“Tell them the truth, that they’re not my kind anymore. When you leave the clans, your life, your memory … all gone.” For the first time Eskkar’s voice took on a hard edge, an intensity of raw emotion. “I want …
even your gold isn’t enough to make me fight them. I want the chance to avenge my family’s murder, to kill enough of them to satisfy their spirits.
This is the only chance I’ll ever have.”
Nicar nodded in understanding. “Enough talk about the past and the future. Do you think we can defeat the barbarians, if we do all that you ask?”
Esk kar met his gaze. “No village has ever surrounded itself with a wall such as the one we will need. I don’t even know if such a wall can be built before they arrive. But if it can, then we may have a chance. Whether it’s a good chance or not, we’ll find out in the coming months. If we put our hearts and bodies into the preparation, we may have a fair chance, perhaps an even chance. If we don’t prepare well, then we know what will happen.
“That is the best hope I can offer you, Nicar. As I said, the price you will pay to defend the village may be more than it’s worth or more than you can afford. And even then, we may fail. You’ll be risking more than just your gold. All who have tried to resist the Alur Meriki have been destroyed.”
Nicar drained the wine cup, then set it down. “So we must build a wall around Orak if we wish to resist.” He sat there, drumming his fingers on the table for several moments, before he lifted his eyes. “I can see, Esk kar, that you’re honest. You don’t promise success. If you had, I wouldn’t have believed you.” He looked at his guest for a few more moments, as if making up his mind. “You don’t have a woman, do you?”
The odd question surprised Esk kar, though he gathered that Nicar already knew the answer. Women, good ones at any rate, were both scarce and expensive in Orak, and fathers did not approve marriages for eligible daughters to soldiers with no futures, let alone to those who didn’t have two coins to rub together.
“No, I haven’t been able to afford one yet,” Esk kar replied, unable to keep a hint of embarrassment from his voice. Once a week or so, Esk kar spent a copper coin for one of the girls at the alehouse, or visited the prostitutes who sold themselves at night along the river’s edge. Nearly a month had passed since his last visit.
“I received some new slaves a few weeks ago,” Nicar continued. “One is a girl, still a virgin, I’m assured. I think she’s about fourteen, not pretty, but attractive enough. I was going to bed her myself when I found the time …