Authors: Sam Barone
sin told him to keep silent about the loss and dismissed him.
“It must have been this Esk kar,” Thutmose - sin said when they were alone. “He moves quickly. Across the river only a few days ago, then back to Orak to meet our attack.”
“How did he know about the warriors,” Insak asked. “It would take time to gather men, to prepare this ambush. Is there a spy within our camp, someone who …”
“No, I don’t think so,” Thutmose - sin replied. “From the Ur Nammu he learned about our plans to encircle the village. With that knowledge, he guessed we would send a force across the river. So he recruited the Ur Nammu to provide riders, made his preparations, and moved northward.”
“He’s a demon, then,” Altanar said, “one of our own turned against us.
He must be killed, flayed alive, and burned over the fire.”
“On that we agree, Altanar,” Thutmose - sin said. “But first we have to capture him. Summon the rest of the council. I’ll tell them the news.”
The two clan leaders left, and Thutmose - sin resumed his thoughts.
Orak had turned into a disaster. Today’s failure, coupled with this latest news, would turn the council into an angry mob. Outside his tent, he could hear the clan leaders gathering, some still quarreling about today’s attack, blaming each other for the failure to capture the village. Their voices rose in anger, and the accusations and recriminations flowed freely.
“All the clan leaders are waiting, Sarrum.”
Thutmose - sin cleared his thoughts, buckled the sword around his waist, then stepped outside. The full council of the Alur Meriki, with every clan leader present, turned toward him. His presence stopped the bickering, and they took their seats on the open ground before his tent.
Only then did Thutmose - sin join them, taking the last empty spot that completed the circle. Markad and Issogu took their places behind him.
No other guards were permitted when the full council met. Thutmose - sin nodded to Insak.
“One of my warriors has returned from across the river,” Insak began.
He repeated Bar’rack’s story, taking his time and leaving nothing out. The council sat there, mouths open, stunned into silence at hearing that another force of Alur Meriki warriors had ceased to exist.
“These dirt - eaters,” Insak concluded, “must be swept from the earth.
My clan demands vengeance on these fi lth. They are even worse than the Ur Nammu who shame their clan by joining forces with them.”
They all started talking, asking more questions at fi rst, then beginning the argument that Thutmose - sin expected. Some wanted to hunt down the Ur Nammu, some to raid the lands across the river. Others wanted to attack the village again, as soon as possible. A few, Thutmose - sin noted, wanted to move on. He counted these, relieved that only four clan leaders spoke openly of leaving Orak.
At last Thutmose - sin raised his hand, and the conversations trailed off.
“My clan brothers,” he began, “we must destroy this village. For us, there is no other way.”
He gazed at every clan leader as his eyes went around the circle. “We are committed. We’ve driven the dirt - eaters to this place, and destroyed their farms and fields. Our men across the river were to prevent them from escaping, but they are not trying to escape. The few boats they might have are inside the walls, unused. This Orak offers a challenge to us each day that it resists. Its people are prepared to die here, and die they must. We planned for this battle. We traveled out of our path. Now we must finish it. If we had food enough, I’d stay here and starve them out. But the lands are empty, and we cannot remain here much longer.”
“But the loss of the raiding party. Do we not need them …”
“The raiding party was to keep the dirt - eaters from crossing the river.”
Thutmose - sin stood. “Our men have watched the crossing and none of the villagers have tried to flee. Our warriors across the river would not be of any help to us even if they were alive. And I’m sure Insak and Altanar’s men killed many dirt - eaters before they died. Now it falls to us to avenge our kin.”
No one spoke. He’d shamed them all into silence, and now no one met his gaze.
“So nothing has changed. The dirt - eaters held us off today only by luck. Next time will be different.”
He let his voice grow hard. “The Alur Meriki have never been defeated. Remind your warriors of that. Tell them to prepare to attack the village again. Tell them that no matter what the cost, the next attack will succeed, or every Alur Meriki warrior will die in the attempt. And this time, my clan brothers, we will hold nothing back, and we will not fail.”
–-
Esk kar returned to his bedroom well after midnight and closed the door. Bantor remained on the table outside, resting under his wife’s eye on a layer of linen blankets. Ventor didn’t want to chance reopening Bantor’s wounds by carrying him down to his bed.
Instead the healer, along with his apprentice, took what sleep they could in Bantor’s room downstairs.
He found Trella waiting for him, sitting cross - legged on the bed, a single, small lamp shedding smoky light throughout the chamber. He knew he’d kept her from sleeping, that she stayed up because he might need her.
“You should have slept,” he chided her gently, though grateful she’d stayed awake.
Trella stood and came into his arms. “It’s been a long day for you, Eskkar. I thought you might need to talk.” She spoke softly, reminding him that others slept in the outer room. She held him close for a moment, then stepped back and helped him remove the great sword from his waist. “I saw what you did with the men at the gate. I was in the marketplace when they were killed.”
Most of the wounded received treatment at the marketplace, and she’d gone there after doing what she could at the house.
He held her for a moment, then sat tiredly on the edge of the bed. “I was angry. The gate could’ve been taken and all of us killed. They deserved to die. I wanted to kill them myself, put them to the torture.”
Trella filled a cup with a mixture of water and wine and handed it to him. “They said that Nicar asked for mercy on their behalf.”
He smiled at her, then drained the cup. “So you were at the table after all.”
She took the empty cup from his hand and put it on the floor, then got on the bed behind him and began to rub his shoulders, her fingers strong on the muscles of his neck. “You did the right thing, killing only the leaders, and doing it quickly before anyone could feel sorry for them. But Nicar also was right to ask you for mercy for the others. You should thank him for it, you know.” She kissed his neck. “He gave you good advice, though you did not ask him for it.”
Esk kar started to relax. The massage stopped for a moment and he heard the rustle of her dress as she removed it. Then her hands were reaching around to hold him and he could feel her breasts soft against his back, her nipples hard.
“You need to get some sleep, Esk kar, before the morning is upon us. Let me help you sleep.” She blew out the lamp and pushed him down on the bed. Her mouth found his and she kissed him tenderly, her hands moving over him, her body twining against his.
Suddenly Esk kar wanted her. His fatigue vanished and he felt the urg-ings rise up inside him. He’d survived another battle and now he wanted her, as much to prove that he still lived as for any other reason. He pulled her down beside him on the bed and moved atop her, heard her moan softly as he entered her and felt her arms encircle him. Then he thought of nothing else.
The sun had climbed well over the horizon before he awoke, the street sounds finally rousing him. Again Trella had let him sleep but had risen early for her own work. Esk kar felt annoyed at himself. The village lay surrounded by thousands of savage enemies and Orak’s leader slept in his soft bed until well past the dawn.
He shook the sleep from his eyes and dressed, then went into the outer room, stopping abruptly when he found others there. To his further surprise, Bantor was awake, propped up by blankets and being fed soup by his wife. He looked pale and weak but his eyes seemed alert.
“Bantor! I’m glad to see you awake.” Esk kar looked at Annok - sur. “Did the healer … I mean … is he …”
“Ventor said he is doing better.” Annok - sur couldn’t disguise the happiness in her voice. “He isn’t allowed to speak. And he’s very weak and must not move or exert himself for several days. The healer has already changed the bandages and says the blood flow has stopped.”
“Well, that is good news,” Esk kar replied, a smile lighting his face. “I must go, before the whole village thinks I sleep the day away.” Bantor’s eyes were full of questions but Esk kar waved them away. “Everything is taken care of, so don’t try to speak. Annok - sur will tell you everything.”
Esk kar looked at her. “The women around here seem to know everything that goes on.”
He checked in at the command table, where he learned the barbarians were keeping out of sight and that nothing had happened during the night. He went to the well, washing and drinking deeply of the cool water before he poured it over himself. Returning to the house, he entered the kitchen where he got bread, figs, and some fresh - cooked strips of horseflesh. Placing everything on a wooden trencher, along with a cup of water, he carried it all outside to the command table.
By then a tired Gatus had arrived, his watch just finished. Esk kar remembered that his second in command was getting on in seasons.
“I walked the walls at dawn,” Gatus reported. “Everything is as it should be. Work continues on the gate and there’s a huge stockpile of stones there now. Jalen is on watch and Hamati is making another circuit of the wall.
Corio wants to know what he should do about all the bodies in the ditch.
The smell will be rank soon enough.”
Esk kar took a bite of the horsemeat and washed it down with a gulp of water, then chewed on a piece of bread, using the time to think. Trella had spoken several times about the need to keep the village as clean as possible during the siege. When he hadn’t shown much interest, she took the responsibility on herself. He didn’t understand her reasons for wanting to take charge of the sanitation but it seemed harmless enough.
She’d organized work gangs to cleanse the streets and make sure the villagers cleaned up after themselves. Carts now collected the human and animal waste each day and took it to the stables, where a huge pit had been dug.
Before the attack closed the gates, the carts had simply dumped their contents into the river, letting those downstream worry about the occasional floating gifts in their water. But the dead bodies in the ditch would soon be stinking. Not that he cared about that, but they might block the flow of water needed to keep the ditch muddy. In a few days there might be dry patches that the barbarians could use for their attacks.
“Gatus, I want the bodies dragged to the river and dumped in. We can’t let anything interfere with the water flow. So let’s use all the men who ran yesterday. I’ll tell them they can redeem their honor by this task, if they do it well. We’ll let them do the dirty work but we’ll need soldiers and others to help, maybe even horses and some carts. If we prepare everything in advance, we can probably clear the bodies in a few hours, and maybe the barbarians won’t try to interfere.”
“It’s a filthy job, not even fit for slaves,” Gatus replied with a laugh.
“They’ll think twice before they shirk their duties again. I’ll get everything ready and go out with them.”
Esk kar thought it more likely that the sight of their leaders being executed yesterday might keep them better focused on their duties. “You prepare everything, but I’ll watch them,” Esk kar ordered. “You get some rest.”
Gatus opened his mouth to protest but Esk kar held up his hand. “If I do it everyone will see how important it is, and I can get a chance to stretch my legs. I’ll promise a few coins for those who work the hardest.”
He stood up and went to the well for more water, carrying his empty water cup. A servant was there bringing up water and a fresh bucket soon appeared, cold from the depths. Men always forgot to drink enough water when they had the chance, and then a long day in the heat would leave them weak from thirst.
A little after midmorning they opened the rear gate. Soldiers stood ready, just in case a horde of barbarians had hidden at the river’s edge. But nothing greeted them except the swirling sounds of the river. In a steady stream nearly two hundred men and women slipped out, leading a few horses and carrying ropes and planks. Everyone went quickly to their assigned locations and duties.
They didn’t have far to go before they found the first corpses. The hot sun and slippery mud made it hard work, and the bodies of men and horses were already covered with flies that rose up in a cloud as they were disturbed. Many of the dead had loosed their bowels as they died, adding the stink of human waste to the smells of blood and open flesh. They saw marks on the bodies indicating that during the night, many small animals had feasted well.
The men slogged through the mud, dragging the bodies toward the far side of the ditch, where other men tied ropes to the corpses’ feet, then coaxed nervous and excitable horses to their dreary task. As they shifted the bodies, the smell of death rose fresh in the heated air.
The worst jobs went to those men who’d fled their duty. They had to wrestle the bodies from the mud to the edge of the embankment. But yesterday’s offenders weren’t enough to move all those dead by themselves.
Soon almost everyone was in the mud, all of them more fearful of being caught out in the open than worrying about the dirt and stench.
They started from the river gate, working both sides of the walls. It didn’t take long to clear the rear, and soon they began working on the sides.
But most of the dead lay in the front of the east wall, and before long the barbarians saw the activity and sent horsemen to investigate.
They were a small party, fewer then ten riders, and they held their distance, showing a newfound respect for the archers standing ready on the walls. Esk kar kept pace with the laborers, shouting encouragement and laughing each time a man fell on his face, or slipped backward on his ass.