Dawn of Empire (28 page)

“Mistress Trella,” Annok - sur said, keeping her voice low out of habit, though they were alone on the second floor, “your walks among the villagers have become the high point of the day for many of them. They stop whatever they’re doing and wait for you to pass by, disappointed if you choose another street.”

“I like to meet with people, Annok - sur. There is much to learn from them about Orak.”

“Perhaps you’re teaching them more than they realize. So many of them ask for your advice or help. And you give many of them copper coins. Why are you so generous to everyone?”

Trella countered with a question of her own. “You’ve been married to Bantor for a long time. It’s a hard life, isn’t it, being the wife of a soldier?”

“Very hard, mistress. My fi rst two children died, one in childbirth and one a few months later. Only Ningal, our daughter, has survived.” She sighed. “Bantor is a good man who works hard, but sometimes he is a little slow of thought. Until Esk kar promoted him, we had very little and no hope of improvement. There were many bitter things I had to do to help Bantor and Ningal survive.”

Things better left unspoken, Trella thought. “But now life is better, is it not?”

“Yes, for now. But after the barbarians are defeated, then I fear the hard times will come again.”

“You are certain that we’ll defeat them?”

“No, of course not. I know how strong they are. But if our men fail, then it won’t matter. If we’re not killed out of hand, you and I will become slaves in some warrior’s tent, taken and beaten at his pleasure. No, what I fear most is growing old with only a soldier’s pay, with no dowry to find Ningal a good husband. Since Esk kar became captain, my husband’s future seems blessed by the gods. Bantor is very loyal. We both know what Esk kar has done for him.”

Trella reached up and touched Annok - sur’s hand, taking the comb from her and turning to face her. “I, too, am the woman of a soldier. And I have the same fear as you, Annok - sur, that when the barbarians are driven off, things will return to the old ways. Esk kar is powerful now, but when Orak is no longer threatened, then perhaps the nobles will not need so strong a captain of the guard. Perhaps they will not need so many soldiers, either, especially those they did not raise up themselves.”

“So this is why you walk through the village, mistress, to gain the friendship of the people? Their friendship won’t be enough to protect your master.”

“There’s much more I want from the villagers. And there’s much you can do to help me, if you choose. Such help would not be forgotten in the future, Annok - sur.”

“I will help you gladly, Trella. You won’t be a slave for long. Everyone knows that. No, you will be a great lady in Orak, and Esk kar will found a great House. And as he rises, so may Bantor.”

“Then there is much to be done to ensure that future. We must use the people to help secure Orak after the barbarians are defeated. The villagers must bind themselves to Esk kar and his future so that one cannot be without the other. There must be no return to the old ways.”

“You see a way to make this happen? The nobles would not like to hear of such things.”

“No, they wouldn’t. There would be much danger, in fact.” Trella said nothing further, just waited while Annok - sur considered.

“I don’t wish to return to the old ways. Tell me what I can do to help you.”

Trella spoke of her plans. When she finished, the older woman took her hand once again and squeezed it. “It can be done, Trella. We can make these things happen. I’ll do whatever is needed.”

“Help me, Annok - sur, and you will have a great House of your own someday. I promise it.”

11

–-

More weeks passed, with Esk kar too busy to notice Trella’s quiet maneuverings or to care about them if he did. Instead he worried about Jalen. Almost three weeks overdue, Esk kar feared not only had he lost a capable commander, but that he lacked any information about the barbarians’ progress or location.

An even gloomier thought troubled him—if they’d captured and tortured Jalen, the Alur Meriki would know all about Esk kar’s plans.

He didn’t want them sending a raiding party early, before they fi nished the wall.

Whatever Jalen’s fate, Esk kar needed to send out another patrol, one he’d lead himself. The barbarians must be located, and he didn’t trust anyone else to do it. Men continued to arrive with stories of barbarian hordes only a few paces behind them, but almost all their sightings had no value.

As each day passed, Esk kar worked harder to appear confident.

More than two months had elapsed since Esk kar became captain of the guard. Each day he met with Corio and Sisuthros to talk about the wall’s progress. Their work proceeded smoothly, and Esk kar had no doubt the wall would be completed in time. Nevertheless he needed Jalen’s information. He decided to wait three more days for Jalen. Then he’d lead the second scouting party himself.

This morning’s training had gone poorly. Esk kar’s worries distracted him, and a sword swung by an eager recruit had struck Esk kar’s head and knocked him to the ground. If the blade had been bronze instead of wood, he’d be dead.

A few hours after the sun reached its zenith, one of Bantor’s messengers found Esk kar at Corio’s side, inspecting the day’s progress. “Captain, Bantor asks you to come to the gate. There are travelers there who wish to speak with you.”

“Tell Bantor I’m on my way.” Esk kar smiled at the grinning youth, who dashed off at a run to return with this new message. Esk kar bade goodbye to Corio, then followed the path to the main gate, where he found Bantor and two guards speaking to three strangers.

As Esk kar approached he understood why the travelers stood out from those who wandered into Orak. These strangers must come from a land far to the north, where men had darker beards and hair that contrasted with their lighter skin. All were unusually tall and well muscled. Even their clothing looked odd, a mix of leather and somber colors rather than the raw linen or flax shades preferred by those in the surrounding countryside.

Each stranger carried a heavy bow and a fat quiver full of arrows, but no sword or axe, only a long dagger at each hip. A small ass, tethered a few steps away, rested wearily under its load of packs, blankets, and cooking utensils, no doubt holding all the travelers’ worldly possessions.

“Greetings, Bantor.” Esk kar nodded to the accompanying guards as well. He tried to remember as many of his men’s names as he could. When he couldn’t recall a name, he still gave each man some kind of greeting.

It pleased him to see a simple gesture of recognition made them stand a little straighter.

“Greetings, Captain,” Bantor replied. “These travelers asked to speak to the leader of the village, and I thought it would be better for you to meet them here.”

Bantor had learned much in the last few months. In the beginning he would probably have directed them to Esk kar’s house and forgotten about them. Now he kept them under guard until his captain could determine what to do with them.

Esk kar turned to the newcomers, easily selecting the oldest and guessing by his age and resemblance that he was the father of the other two.

“Greetings. I’m Esk kar, captain of the guard.”

Esk kar was one of the tallest men in Orak, but he found himself looking straight into the eyes of all three strangers, an unusual sensation for him. “What business brings you here?” He knew they weren’t merchants or farmers. Even the boys, the youngest probably no more than fifteen seasons, looked hard and capable.

The elder man bowed slightly to show he considered himself an equal.

“My name is Totomes, and these are my sons, Narquil and Mitrac. We’ve come south to fight against the Alur Meriki. We may consider fighting with your village if, indeed, you plan to fight.” The man’s voice had a strong accent and his words came slowly, as if he had to translate each thought into words.

Esk kar’s eyes narrowed. Not one villager in twenty knew the name of the advancing steppes people. Most villagers thought all barbarians the same, and the fact that a particular clan actually might have a leader with his own name never seemed to occur to them. The Alur Meriki took their name from one of their early leaders, though Esk kar knew the original Alur Meriki had been dead for at least a hundred years.

That these strangers would know such a name seemed unlikely, unless they had some encounters with them. “Why do you wish to fight them?”

Instead of replying, Totomes leaned closer to Esk kar’s face, staring hard into his eyes before drawing back. “You’re from the steppes yourself, Captain, are you not? From what clan do you come?”

Esk kar felt his mouth harden at the unexpected question, one that few dared ask, and he felt tempted to order them out of the village. Instead he remembered Trella’s warnings about losing his temper. “I’ve been gone from the steppes people for nearly twenty years, Totomes, and here in Orak it’s rude for strangers to ask too many questions. Now, what’s your business here?”

“Our business is to kill as many Alur Meriki as we can. That’s why I ask you—from what clan do you come?”

“If you wish to fight, go back through the gate and head north. I promise you’ll find all the Alur Meriki you desire.” He turned to the men standing behind the strangers, keeping his voice calm but firm. “Escort these visitors outside the village and see them on their way.”

The youngest put a hand to his bow though it remained strung across his chest. “If you touch that bow again, boy, you’ll leave here without it.”

As Esk kar spoke, the guards behind the strangers drew their swords with a rasp and moved apart, while Bantor stepped to the side and put a hand on his sword.

Totomes spoke sharply to his son in a language strange to Esk kar’s ears, and the youth immediately took his hand from the bow shaft. “My son Mitrac still has much to learn about the ways of strangers. But I warn you that should anyone try to take one of our bows, they will die.”

Esk kar kept his voice calm. “I think you should be on your way before my guards put their swords in your backs or I regret my generosity. You’ll do no killing in Orak.”

“Are you the ruler of Orak,” Totomes said, his temper flaring, “that you can threaten those who want to enter your village even though they wish to fight against the barbarians?” Esk kar stared for a moment at Totomes. These men were hard of head, no doubt of that, but they looked ready to fight barbarians, or anyone else for that matter. They’d journeyed through a countryside filled with warriors, bandits, and thieves, and had somehow managed to survive.

The fact that they were foreign to these lands made that journey more remarkable. Travelers from distant lands took more risks in their journeys, always the first choice of robbers, since the victims would have no kin to demand revenge. One more reason why most men seldom traveled more than a few miles from where they were born.

Esk kar glanced at the bow the man was carrying. It was hard to judge its size, stretched diagonally across the man’s back, but it looked to be a foot longer than the ones Esk kar’s men trained with, which might make it a formidable weapon. Esk kar glanced at the weapons of the two boys. Their bows were every bit as long as their father’s.

Someone behind him coughed. Esk kar realize a crowd had formed, everyone frozen in place, ignoring the hot sun and staring at the men, caught up in the sudden tension and expecting to see blood spilled at any moment. He decided that such men as these could be useful, but harsh words had been spoken and now needed to be undone. He wondered what Trella would do. Probably offer them a cup of water. Or wine. Well, why not? He turned to Bantor.

“See that care is given to their animal.” He turned back to Totomes.

“Follow me.”

Without waiting for a reply Esk kar turned on his heel and began retracing his steps, walking purposefully and moving at a good pace. His guard struggled to keep up with him, and Esk kar resisted the urge to turn around to see whether Totomes and his sons were following. Traveling down the main street of Orak, he turned left on a smaller lane and almost immediately entered a small tavern, one that catered to travelers.

He paused for a moment, letting his eyes accustom themselves to the dim light, and he felt his bodyguard bump into him. Not many customers patronized the alehouse at that hour, and the innkeeper’s largest table stood empty. Esk kar headed there, calling out to the serving girl as he went. “Ale for myself and my companions.”

He sat down facing the door and saw the strangers standing just inside the doorway, squinting into the darkness. Esk kar motioned to his bodyguard. “Sit down and keep your hand off your sword.”

The guard grinned with admiration. “Captain, I thought they was going to stick us both in the back.”

Esk kar smiled grimly. “We could use men like these. Now sit down and keep your mouth shut.” He kept his voice low as Totomes approached the table and stood hesitantly before it, looking around the shadowy room.

“Are you going to stand there or sit down and drink some ale? Or aren’t you thirsty after your travels?”

Totomes looked as confused as he’d been angry, and before he could reply or even sit, the serving girl approached carrying five wooden beakers and a large bucket of ale. As the men stood there, she expertly poured the dark brown brew into the cups.

“I hope, girl, that this is decent ale,” Esk kar remarked as she finished. “I wouldn’t want my friends to be offended.”

She giggled, then looked at him with a provocative smile. “Our finest ale, Captain, in our best cups. Anything you want, anything, just ask.” She smiled at him, then gave a quick bow and walked off.

Totomes slipped his bow over his head and placed it lengthwise across the table between himself and Esk kar. His sons followed his example and sat down on either side of their father. The table was scarcely longer than the bows.

Esk kar raised his cup. “Welcome to Orak, Totomes.” He searched his memory for a moment, then added, “Narquil, Mitrac,” glad that he had repeated the boys’ names in his mind when he heard them, another trick he’d learned from Trella. “My name is Esk kar, and this is my lazy bodyguard for the day, Hykros.”