Dawn of Empire (27 page)

Not satisfied with her accomplishments, Trella looked for other opportunities to expand her influence. The first such she found involved working with Nicar and Nestor on the housing problem.

By Nicar’s order, anyone leaving Orak forfeited their house and any belongings left behind. This policy forced any villagers who thought of leaving to make a hard choice. If the village survived and they returned, their homes would be gone, given to someone else. Or they could stay and fi ght.

Nevertheless, many left Orak, and those who remained clamored for even the humblest of the abandoned houses and huts. Working with the clerks, Trella inventoried each hut and home and recommended new owners, favoring those who could best help Orak. She argued skillfully, forcing the clerks to abandon their plans of helping friends or those willing to pay.

Trella focused on those who had the skills needed for the village’s defense.

If they possessed those skills and were willing to stay and work, Trella would present their case.

Only once did she have to involve Esk kar. The clerks wanted to give an empty home to a wine merchant, while Trella insisted that the dwelling be given to a family of five that included a father and two grown sons willing to fight. Esk kar lost his temper and threatened to have every clerk run out of the village. Trella had to plead with him not to go to Nicar. After that, she had no more problems with the clerks.

With each day that passed, Esk kar and Trella’s lives became more en-twined with the fate of Orak—and the fate of Orak depended on the wall.

Everyone who could worked on the wall. Fight, dig, or move on. No other choice existed for anyone hoping to remain in Orak. Esk kar made that decision, backed by Nicar. The soldiers’ swords enforced it. Everyone labored in Orak’s defense, including the members of the Families.

No work on anything else was permitted unless approved by Nicar and Esk kar. Those caught away from their tasks received some punishment, and Esk kar would make no exceptions for the sons of the Families, though he did allow them to be assigned lighter duties than digging or rock carrying as long as they performed their duties well.

Gatus sent more men out to patrol the roads and to keep bandits and robbers from attacking those bringing goods to Orak. Sisuthros now had twenty men to make sure those working on the wall put their backs into it, while Corio directed a workforce of over four hundred men and boys, and even women and old men. The master builder walked back and forth among the workers, driving himself and his apprentices as hard as any laborer.

Slaves and free villagers alike worked, all covered with dust and mud, except those who gathered rocks from the river and could occasionally wash themselves clean. Each evening, their work completed, villagers came to stare at the wall, which grew longer and longer each day.

The wall now extended one hundred feet on both sides of where the new gate would be. Each side grew at least twenty feet every day, arms spreading themselves wide to encompass all of Orak.

Corio’s oldest son, Alcinor, directed the construction of the main gate.

It would be made of heavy beams carefully shaped and closely joined by the carpenters, all fire - hardened to resist flame arrows, and reinforced with wide bronze strips. Inside the gate, holes were lined with stones for the bracing logs that would reinforce the structure when closed.

Underneath the gate, a trench six feet wide and ten feet deep had already been dug. This pit would be completely filled with heavy stones and packed with the usual mud and straw mix, creating a solid foundation that would frustrate any attempts to dig under the structure. Soon the gate would be functional, though not fully completed, and would enclose the new, extended boundaries of the village.

Each day more than a dozen boats arrived carrying timber of all types and sizes. Finished tools, weapons, and leather goods came by land and by river. Food and wine disembarked as well, to help swell Orak’s storehouses for the siege. Word had gone out throughout the countryside as well as up and down the great river, and other villages proved eager either to assist in resisting the barbarians or simply to make a profit.

Boats filled with costly copper and tin arrived regularly. Desperately needed by the bronze workers for dozens of items, the ores were in short supply and difficult to obtain. The mines lay many miles distant, and produced only a small output from their pits each day, since only slaves could be forced to labor in them. For some mysterious reason, slaves died quickly in the mines, few of them lasting more than six months. Esk kar learned this was why it took so much gold and silver to buy copper and tin.

But Esk kar demanded bronze weapons, and only these ores could be turned into the lustrous metal, and so Nicar’s gold kept flowing. Orak’s smiths labored from dawn to dusk, transmuting the raw ores into gleaming bronze weapons and tools.

Timber from the north ranked as the second most important cargo, as wood was needed not only for the gate, but to reinforce the walls and parapets, to make shields for the soldiers, and even as firewood for the forges.

Other ships brought the first deliveries of weapons—finished swords, spears, and even bows and arrows, in addition to those made in Orak. The boats used by the river’s sailors were small, propelled by a few oars and perhaps a tiny sail, and they couldn’t carry much cargo, but more arrived daily as word about Orak’s needs continued to spread throughout the land.

Each boat captain rushed to unload his vessel, take on his trade goods or payment, and return whence he came for another consignment.

The dockmaster permitted no other cargoes to land, except for food and wine, though Esk kar had no doubt other goods somehow managed to smuggle their way inside.

A large market had sprouted at the docks where traders bought and sold the ships’ contents each day. The Families of Decca and Rebba took responsibility for that function, buying and selling, and making sure the prices stayed reasonable.

Esk kar didn’t trust any of the Families, certain that if they had the opportunity, they would steal from the village. To guard against that, Nicar and his clerks assisted as well, checking the accounts and watching the cargo manifests. It seemed to be working, since every merchant and ship-master complained of being robbed, while the Families shouted that they were being reduced to poverty. But the trading never stopped, and each day the boats continued to arrive and depart.

Gatus trained the men hard each day. He and Esk kar argued for a full day before Esk kar gave his approval to Gatus’s novel ideas. The old soldier wanted to train the men to fight in units of ten. Esk kar had never heard of such a thing before, nor had any of the men. But Gatus fought hard for his ideas, declaring the archers would be more effective if they fought this way, and that foot soldiers could support each other in battle. Esk kar eventually agreed, since there would soon be so many men under arms that some organization would be needed just to control them.

As soon as Gatus began his new regimen, Esk kar saw the benefits—the men’s morale improved along with their effectiveness.

Veterans had four hours of training, either at sunup or an hour past noon. When they finished training, they worked for Sisuthros or Bantor, or taught the new recruits, who trained all day long. The training for the new men was even harder because they needed to be physically fit in order to fight well. In exchanging sword strokes, the weaker man or the one who tired first usually died, and Esk kar wanted men who could fight and kill for hours if need be.

So Gatus made them run holding heavy logs over their heads until they staggered and fell, then put swords in their trembling hands and made them hack at the posts until their hands blistered and bled before hardening into calluses. Sometimes the men formed ranks and marched with their shields and spears, holding the heavy weapon aloft to strengthen arm muscles.

Then, thirsty, shaken, and exhausted, they stood at the archery range and shot arrows until each man hit his target fifty times, no matter how many arrows it took. Gatus and his men watched to make sure each man drew the shaft fully and aimed it properly. Wooden rods awaited any that shirked. And each day the targets moved a few feet farther back, until after three weeks of training, even the newest recruits could hit the mark at sixty paces five times out of six.

When the men finished their session, they rested by retrieving the target arrows from the butts and preparing them for the next group. Bowstrings had to be checked and replaced as needed. A well - made bowstring would launch between two and three hundred arrows before breaking or stretching, and it took the effort of a dozen women working all day to weave and braid the coarse flax into suitable bowstrings.

Esk kar did his part as well, first training with regular men, then working with the recruits. The new men felt proud, knowing their captain didn’t think himself too haughty to sweat with them for a few hours each day.

It made the training more bearable for them, as did his encouragements.

“You miserable dogs,” he shouted at them, “I want you to be more afraid of Gatus and me than any barbarian.”

And each day a few villagers, mostly old women and children, came to watch the training and cheer the men on. Esk kar permitted this so everyone would know the soldiers worked as hard as those straining at their loads of dirt and rock.

Trella constantly reminded Esk kar that he must befriend the villagers, make them aware of what he did for them, and change them into his supporters. “Your strength,” she reminded him, “lies in making sure the people believe you are defending them, not just the rich merchants.”

So he forced himself to say a few words of encouragement or a simple hello to the villagers each day. Esk kar felt strange doing it, but he soon grew used to it. He now trusted Trella completely. If she believed something was important, then Esk kar would do it even if he didn’t understand why.

Amazingly, all of it was working. The mood of the soldiers and recruits stayed positive, reinforced by the steady progress of the wall as it slowly crept across the face of Orak. It grew at least twenty feet each day, and Corio promised more as the workers’ skills improved.

Esk kar’s body had hardened once again, and he made sure that he grunted under the logs with the weakest men to build his own strength.

If they could keep up this pace and the barbarians didn’t arrive before the wall’s completion, the whole plan might work.

Esk kar had never thought villagers could be trained well enough to beat barbarians one on one, but now, seeing their progress, he began to think differently. Men had been trained as soldiers before, but never under the threat of a barbarian migration. Gatus and the other commanders became more experienced and efficient in their training methods. If the villagers could fight the barbarians on their terms, if the barbarians did what Esk kar expected, if they didn’t come too early, if … if … if.

Each night in bed, Esk kar whispered his doubts and worries to Trella.

He, who’d never shared his thoughts with anyone in his life, talked openly to Trella, who reassured him if she could or held him tight when she couldn’t. Their lovemaking became less frequent but more intense, as if they shared a burden that threatened to overwhelm them.

Each day Esk kar learned something new, looked at someone or something differently, gained a new insight or made some mistake. Each day brought a dozen different decisions, a dozen situations for which he had no experience. He had no sympathy for his commanders when they erred, and he was harder on himself.

The worst of his errors were those he was unaware of. Those Trella or somebody else pointed out to him were bitter in his mouth. He forced himself to listen to Trella’s explanations, silently vowing never to repeat the same mistake again.

Nothing in Esk kar’s life had prepared him for this situation, and more than once he considered leaving it all behind, taking a horse and just riding off. But always the thought of Trella kept him to his task.

He now wanted the future she foresaw. He also knew that slowly, subtly, he was changing, learning to think before he spoke, to consider before he acted, and, most of all, to listen to and take the advice of others. Somehow he knew the gods had linked his fate to hers, and that both of them would face whatever future the barbarians brought to Orak. And each day, the wall continued to grow.

Those same weeks passed even faster for Trella, who set for herself an even more diffi cult task, one she could not go about openly. That task began after they’d moved into Drigo’s house. As soon as she finished her morning duties, Trella spent two or three hours walking through the village. Accompanied always by a guard and dressed in the old shift she’d worn in Nicar’s house, she talked to the women at the market, helped with their laundry at the river, even visited with the women working in the fields or on the wall.

She did more than visit. Her own labors at the wall were as strenuous as any man’s, though she seldom worked more than a few hours. She carried stones and bricks, or dug in the trenches along with the other women. The first time Corio noticed her working, he tried to get her to stop.

She refused, saying what she did was little enough compared to the other women.

Even that first day, groups of curious women gathered wherever she went, eager to speak to her and as eager to offer advice. After the first week, Bantor’s wife, Annok - sur, began to accompany her.

A plain, practical woman a few seasons younger than Esk kar, Annok -

sur showed she had the skills and experience needed to manage a large household. The two soon transformed the former house of Drigo not only into a home for Esk kar and his men but into a planning center for Orak’s defense.

Between them, they organized the servants, assigned the day’s tasks, and established a routine that began to run itself. Despite their age difference, they became friends.

Trella sat at a small table in her bedroom, while Annok - sur combed Trella’s hair. Neither of them thought it the least bit strange for a free woman to comb the hair of a slave.