Dawn of Empire

2

Riding back into Orak, Esk kar found two soldiers guarding the gate instead of the usual sentry. Both called out to him, looks of relief on their faces. Nicar must have ordered the extra guard to reassure the villagers. By now everyone must know about the barbarians sighted in the north.

As his horse picked its way through the narrow lanes, people stopped their activities and stared. A few tried to stop him, to ask him what he knew about the barbarians. Esk kar paid no attention to them. Everyone seemed to know that Nicar had summoned him, so now they looked at him for some sign of hope and protection. That thought deepened his frown.

Esk kar had no idea what to tell them.

At the barracks, the soldiers waited outside, squatting on the dirt or leaning against the wall, regular duties ignored, anxiety on their faces. The soldiers knew about tonight’s meeting with Nicar. Nearly thirty men, and some of their women, awaited him, eager to learn anything new. He dismounted and handed the horse to a stable boy.

Esk kar considered ignoring them, then thought better of it. “You know the barbarians are coming?” Heads nodded. “They won’t be here for at least five months, so you can sleep easy tonight.” He hesitated, not sure what to tell them. “I’m meeting with Nicar, to talk about the defense of the village. When I return, I’ll tell you what I know.”

He strode past them into the barracks and dumped his gear on his pallet. Esk kar thought about moving into Ariamus’s private room, but decided that could wait until after tonight’s meal. Reminded of his meeting, he stripped to his undergarment and wrapped his rough blanket around himself. Leaving the barracks, he went down the winding street and through the village’s rear gate, heading straight to the river. Esk kar ignored anyone who tried to speak to him and pushed past those few brave enough to try to block his path.

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… and the will,” he added, with a smile.

“Unlike most women, she can count, as well as read and write the symbols, and she seems levelheaded enough. I will give her to you, and I think you’ll find her useful for many things in the coming months. She’ll be much more than a simple bed companion. You’ll need someone to help you with the planning and to keep you out of the alehouse at night.”

Even through his surprise, Esk kar knew it to be an exceptional and costly gift, given graciously and with subtle advice. “I thank you, Nicar.”

Esk kar suddenly realized what else it meant-that Nicar had agreed to his demands.

“All of us will need your advice and guidance, Nicar. If we are to do this, we’ll need many men working together. So, again, I thank you.”

“You may not have the wit of Ariamus, but you can think and I know you can fight,” Nicar replied. “The rest you can learn, and I and the others will help you. Not many men can know and do everything. Most of us need to learn to accept all the help we can be given. Don’t let your pride stand in the way of what you can accomplish with the help of others.”

Nicar remained silent for a moment. “Know one other thing, Esk kar.

If we succeed, then I will owe you much, more than I and my family can repay. And if we fail, then let us fail together.

“I meet with the nobles the day after tomorrow, when Noble Nestor returns from the south. Until then, you are captain of the guard. When we meet, we’ll confirm our decision to resist the barbarians. Take the girl tonight and move into Ariamus’s quarters. I’ll send you some gold tomorrow so you can buy whatever else you need. In the next few weeks, I’m sure there will be a house available for you. The other Families will provide servants as well, to help free you from everything except the defense of the village.”

Esk kar understood his meaning about the house. Despite what Nicar said, many would flee Orak in the coming months. Esk kar suddenly understood that a bond had formed between them. They shared at least one trait-neither gave up easily. They would live or die in this together.

No matter how it ended, Esk kar knew that his life had changed-that he would never again be the simple warrior who lived by his sword for so many years. Now he’d have to learn to think, plan, prepare defenses, and train people. Not for the first time that day, he wondered whether he was up to the task.

But he’d taken the first step-persuading Nicar that he could save Orak. To accomplish that, he would have to change even more, become someone different, someone better than the drunken fool who passed out last night in the tavern. That would never happen again, he swore.

Nicar stood, signaling the end of the dinner. “Then it’s settled. We’ll do what’s never been done! We will save the village.”

Esk kar smiled, already thinking of the girl who’d accompany him to the barracks. “No, Nicar, if we succeed, we’ll use the new word and call it the City of Orak.”

“Let us pray for that day,” Nicar said. He reached out his hand and clasped Esk kar’s arm, sealing the agreement. Then the merchant strode to the door, calling to his wife, speaking quietly to her before they disappeared into the living quarters.

After a few moments Esk kar heard women’s voices raised in heated debate, followed by an anguished cry, cut short by the sharp sound of a slap. Then Nicar’s wife reappeared, dragging a girl by the shoulder. Creta pushed the girl in front of Esk kar.

“Here’s the slave, Esk kar. Her name is Trella.” Creta’s voice now cut like a rasp. “Of course, you can change it to anything you like. I suggest you give her a good beating to make sure she understands her place. She’s willful and proud.”

The girl flashed a look of hatred at her former mistress, and Esk kar guessed Nicar might have more than one reason for getting rid of the girl.

Life in the rich homes of the Five Families might be more complicated than he’d thought.

Esk kar took a step and lifted up the girl’s chin. She had large, dark brown eyes that refused to meet his gaze. Her slightly darker skin, clear except for a few faint scars from the pox on both cheeks, told him she came from the lands to the south. Her narrow face held a thin nose and small even teeth, hiding behind a trembling lip that still held a drop of blood in the corner, where Creta had slapped her. She looked rather thin and plain, but she had one treasure. Her hair, dark and heavy, fell in a wave around her shoulders.

He saw the fear in her eyes, the fear that came to any slave handed from one man to another. Esk kar had seen that look many times before.

She moved her head away from his hand and returned her gaze to the floor.

Suddenly the image of another girl, about the same age and just as frightened, came to mind. A few years after leaving the clan, he’d befriended Iltani, saving her life and protecting her from rape and worse. She’d repaid that debt by giving herself to him, his first time with a woman. And twice afterward, she risked her life to save his, an obligation he’d never managed to repay. Perhaps the gods had sent Iltani’s image, to remind him of that debt.

“Listen to me, girl,” he said, again lifting her chin, and keeping his tone gentle. “Don’t be afraid. You’re to help me, and I will need your help. Do you understand?”

Her eyes turned up to him and Esk kar held her gaze, seeing this time the strength that lay behind the dark, wide — set eyes. Her lips stopped trembling and she gave him a quick nod, the movement making her hair swirl gently around her face.

“Good. Come with me, then.” A thought struck him and he turned to Creta. “Does she have anything of her own that she should bring?”

“She has some things,” Creta admitted grudgingly. “She can return for them in the morning.”

Whatever trinkets or possessions she might have would be long gone by morning, taken either by Nicar’s wife or the other servants. He started to turn away, hesitated, then faced Creta once again. “A cloak. She’ll need her cloak against the night’s chill. She does have one, doesn’t she?” He made his tone reasonable. “Or perhaps you could find one for her?”

Nicar’s wife must have remembered her husband’s words. She pursed her lips, then gave in. “She has no cloak of her own,” Creta admitted. “But I’ll give her one of mine.”

She clapped her hands and another girl appeared almost instantly, no doubt standing just out of sight beyond the doorway. Creta told the servant to fetch a particular cloak. In moments the girl returned, carrying a faded and patched cloak that looked serviceable enough.

Esk kar took the garment and draped it around the girl’s shoulders.

“Thank your mistress for her gift, Trella.” He watched her closely. Now he’d start to learn what kind of girl he had acquired.

Trella looked first at Esk kar as if trying to read his face. He said nothing, just stared at her. The silence began to lengthen. Then Trella turned to Creta and bowed her head. “Thank you, mistress.” She spoke softly, her words properly servile.

When she straightened up, she looked at Esk kar as if to say, “Is that what you wanted?” and he found himself hiding a smile. He turned to Creta and bowed low. “And I thank you, Mistress Creta. The food you prepared was delicious and well served.” He’d rehearsed the unaccustomed words earlier and was happy to get them out without stumbling.

Out of the house and into the lane, Esk kar laughed aloud as he took Trella’s hand, fi nding it soft and warm in his own as he guided her toward the barracks. “Did you have a cloak of your own?”

A shake of her head answered him, as she kept her eyes on the rough ground underfoot.

“Good, then. At least you got something from her.”

The girl stole a glance at him, then looked down again.

Esk kar’s thoughts raced ahead to the big bed in Ariamus’s chamber and he quickened his pace, glancing up at the stars. Only a few hours before midnight. He’d have to be up before dawn.

Turning the corner at the alehouse, he nearly stopped in surprise. Two torches lit the common area outside the barracks, illuminating a crowd of soldiers, their women, and villagers. Apparently they all had nothing better to do at this late hour than wait for his return. Automatically Esk kar took a quick count and guessed there might be as many as sixty villagers mixing with the soldiers, probably a hundred people all told.

All thoughts of enjoying Trella in his warm bed now vanished, as he remembered his promise. He would have to say something, a prospect that dried his mouth and put an uneasy feeling in his stomach.

Everyone started speaking as soon as they spotted him. A rush of men surrounded him, hands picking at his tunic, eager questions tossed at him like stones. Esk kar knew he must speak to silence the crowd, but his mind remained as empty as last night’s wine cup as he reached the barracks, stopping only because the soldiers waiting there blocked the doorway. He had to face the crowd.

Esk kar felt his hand squeezed hard and realized the boisterous crowd had frightened Trella. He looked down at her and saw the question in her eyes.

“What do they want?” she asked, her voice uncertain.

He tightened his lips before answering. “Nothing, girl. They’re only afraid of what is coming. They think the barbarians are already camped outside the gate.” Somehow her worry gave him strength, and he faced the crowd. “Stay here,” he commanded Trella, letting go of her hand and moving a few steps toward one of the mounting stones, then standing on it to rise a little above the crowd.

“Silence,” Esk kar said loudly. He repeated the word, this time using his command voice. “You’ll wake the whole village with your chattering, and no one will get any sleep tonight.” He jerked his head at the soldiers, and they began to move in front of the crowd, ordering the excited crowd to be silent. When the voices finally died down, Esk kar began to speak.

“Yes, it’s true. The barbarians are coming.” Esk kar let the words run through the crowd, let them jabber for a moment, watching their faces as he confirmed their worst fears. “But they won’t be here for months, so go back to your beds-before your wives cut your throats for being out so late.”

That brought nervous laughter from some, but others shouted at him, asking from what direction the barbarians would come, whether they should leave the village, or whether Orak would try to fight them off. Eskkar raised his hand and eventually they fell silent.

“In two days, Nicar and the other Families will meet. Then we can begin preparing to resist the barbarians. We will fortify Orak so that it can turn back any attack.”

Shouts of disbelief rose up, as well as questions, and the clamor grew louder. Esk kar glanced down at the soldiers. “Quiet them down,” he commanded. His men moved through the crowd, silencing the loudest, pushing back the most aggressive.

Strange, now these soldiers watch my every gesture and obey my smallest command. Yesterday only his fists, backed if necessary by his sword, had provided the slimmest shred of authority. This must be what real power is like, Esk kar realized, more than a little amazed at the sensation.

The people are afraid. Even the soldiers are worried. They want to be told they’ll be safe, told by someone in charge, someone in whom they can believe, even if only for a little while.

“I know you have many questions,” he went on when the murmurs abated, “but they’ll have to wait until Nicar speaks. But hear this, my friends. We have the means and the men to make Orak strong enough to stop the barbarians-if we stand together. I will guide you all in this, and I tell you it can be done, and it will be done. Now, return to your homes and to your beds. Let Nicar speak in two days. By then you’ll know what you must do.”

They shouted at him, but Esk kar ignored them as he jumped down and grabbed Gatus, a grizzled veteran approaching fifty seasons. A subcommander when Esk kar joined Orak’s guards, Ariamus had demoted Gatus back to the ranks for questioning his orders. Esk kar had no real friends among the soldiers, but he respected the old fighter, who knew his trade better than most.

“Gatus, you’re second in command now.” Esk kar raised his voice so as many soldiers as possible could hear him. “Clear out this crowd. Make sure the gates are fastened for the night and guards stationed there. Have a few men patrol the streets until dawn as well. They don’t have to do anything, but have them armed and looking impressive. Then come see me.”

The man nodded, accepting without question his new authority as well as Esk kar’s.

“And Gatus, I’m moving into Ariamus’s quarters. Put a guard at my door. Otherwise some of these fools will be pounding on it until dawn.”

Esk kar turned to Trella and found her staring at him, her fright gone, her wide eyes now locked fi rmly on his as he returned to her side. Taking her hand, he led her away from the crowd, toward the rear of the barracks where his new quarters were located.

Guiding her inside, Esk kar noted in surprise that somebody had cleaned and packed down the dirt floor, thrown out most of the refuse, and moved his few belongings in there as well. Some of the men had anticipated his promotion.

The thought of his possessions made him smile. It wouldn’t have taken long to move a thin blanket, a tunic, an old horse sword, and a common short sword.

A fire burned in the tiny hearth and someone had piled a stack of wood nearby. A soldier entered, bringing a precious candle that he set in a pool of wax on the rough table in the center of the room. The soldier glanced admiringly at Trella, then grinned at Esk kar before he left them.

Esk kar closed the door and leaned against it, the crowd noises already fading as his men started herding the villagers away. The candle flared up, adding its light to that of the fire.

Trella walked slowly around the room. Esk kar’s eyes followed her as she took in her new home. She removed her cloak, then hung it on a peg near the door. From a pocket of her dress she removed a small pouch that no doubt contained the rest of her possessions, and hung it over the same peg. She crossed over to the fireplace, then turned and stood facing him, her head held high.

Esk kar saw the swell of her breasts against the thin dress as she took a deep breath and let her eyes meet his.

“I was told your name is ‘Esk kar,’ that you’re a barbarian, and that I’m given to you as your slave.” She couldn’t keep the hint of bitterness out of her voice when she uttered the word slave. “Creta didn’t say that you are now captain of the guard.”

“The steppes people don’t consider themselves barbarians, Trella.

They’re the same as any other clan, except they move from place to place.

But I left them long ago, when I was fourteen, and I’ve lived among the farms and villages ever since, selling my sword. I’m just a soldier, and only the cowardice of Ariamus has made me captain of the guard.”

Esk kar still had his back to the door, and faintly he heard a guard take up position outside. The crowd noise had disappeared, save for an occasional distant shout as his men went about their assignments.

His men. The words sounded good. The day had started badly, but by day’s end, he’d become captain of the guard with his own room, his own woman slave, and a bag of gold arriving in the morning. Perhaps the gods smiled on him after all. His future prospects seemed good, at least for the next few months, when the Alur Meriki would likely cut off his head and impale it on a lance. No sense worrying about that tonight, though.

“My father was advisor to the ruler of the village of Carnax,” Trella went on. “They were both killed by treachery, and my brother and I sold into slavery. Now I belong to you.”

Esk kar wondered whether she told the truth. Everyone knew that all slaves lied about their past. Her parents could be peasants in the field who sold their daughter for a few coins because the rains came late or the sow died. He’d never heard of Carnax and in truth, it mattered little what she said or claimed. Trella was a slave and would be so for the rest of her life.

He saw the tension in her body and guessed that she would resist him when he took her.

To his surprise, the thought of taking her brought no excitement, and suddenly his legs felt as weary as his head. He pushed himself away from the door. The movement brought fear to Trella’s eyes. She took a step backward, her hands coming up to cross over her breasts.

He sat down at the table and stared at the burning candle for a moment. “Trella, today has been long, and filled with many surprises for both of us.”

Until now he hadn’t realized how much effort it had taken him to talk to Nicar, forcing himself to think and to present his plans and ideas clearly. Swinging a sword or cracking skulls took less effort, and he knew he’d spoken more words today than in the last month. His head wasn’t used to this much activity, and now he felt too tired even to force himself on the girl. He was getting old. Thirty seasons gone, and he knew he was lucky to be alive.

“And tomorrow will probably be worse. I’m weary. I’ve eaten too much food and drunk too much wine, and there are too many thoughts in my head. Tell me if there’s anything you need, and we’ll go to sleep.”

Her head came up, and he thought he saw color come into her cheeks, though the flickering light made it hard to be sure.

“I have never been with a man.”

He smiled at her, though at this particular moment he didn’t know whether that was good news or bad. “I think you’ll be safe tonight, girl. I need my sleep more than I need to wrestle with you.”

He stood up, looking around the room. “There’s the chamber pot. I don’t think you should use the latrine outside, not tonight, anyway.” He turned away from the table and went outside, nodding to the guard as he headed down to the barracks’ privy.

Finishing at the latrine, he found Gatus waiting for him. The old soldier wasted no words. “Did Nicar make you captain of the guard?” Gatus looked him straight in the eye, standing directly in front of his new commander.

“For now. But I told him I would be in charge of all the village and its defenses or nothing at all. He’ll confirm that when he meets with the nobles. Or perhaps not.”

“And if not?” Gatus asked.

“If not, then I and my slave will be leaving the village. But Nicar will confirm it, I’m sure.”

Gatus shrugged, then shook his head. The motion swirled his long gray hair around his shoulders. “Do you really think the village can withstand the barbarians?”

“Gatus, I won’t lie to you. I know it’s never been done. But this is no small village. There may be as many people here as there are barbarians on the move. I think we can make its defenses strong enough to resist until they are forced to move on.”

The thought that he might slip out of the village at any time in the next few months had also occurred to him, and the promise of Nicar’s gold kept the thought in the back of his head.

The man looked dubious, and rightly so. Still, Gatus had to be persuaded, or Esk kar’s tenuous authority with the men would vanish. They respected Gatus and his words would matter.

“Follow me for a few weeks, and let’s see what we can do. I’ve spent the day thinking about this, and it can be done. I’m certain of it. Meanwhile, your pay is doubled, and you’re second in command.”

Gatus moved a step closer. “You are changed from what you were yesterday. Have you been touched by the gods?”

Esk kar’s laugh rang out into the night. The gods and he were not exactly on good terms. “No, I’m not out of my head, though my skull does spin with all these new ideas.” He started to walk past the man, but Gatus gripped his arm hard and now their faces were inches apart.

“You are changed, Esk kar. A fool can see that, even the rest of the men.

I’ll follow your orders for a while, at least. But if you lie to me, I’ll put a sword in your back. I swear by the gods, I will! I’ve a wife and two boys, and I’ll not have them taken by the barbarians.”

“Tend to your duties, then. Tomorrow will be a long day, and you’ll have much to do.” He moved away, and Gatus’s hand slipped from his arm.

Esk kar thought about how quickly things had changed. Yesterday he would have struck anyone who laid hands on him. Now it meant nothing.

When Esk kar returned to Ariamus’s room, the candle had been extinguished and the fire had burned itself down to glowing embers. Dropping the wooden bar across the door, he untied his sandals and stripped off his tunic and undergarment, ignoring the growing chill in the room.

He took his short sword from the wall where it had been hung, drew the blade from its scabbard, and placed it next to the bed. Since he’d run from the Alur Meriki, there had never been a night when he didn’t keep a weapon close at hand. Briefly, he wondered whether the girl would use it on him in the middle of the night, but decided he was too tired to worry about it.

The bed had more than enough room for two, as Ariamus had liked his women large. For a moment, Esk kar thought it was empty until he realized the girl had wedged herself against the wall, as far from him as possible.

Fine, let her stay there. Tomorrow, maybe even in the morning, he’d take her, and there’d be no more nonsense.

Esk kar rolled onto his side, putting his back to her while facing the door. He pulled the single blanket up over his shoulder and let his body relax as he prepared for sleep.

But his mind refused to obey. Thoughts of Nicar, the Alur Meriki, the command of the guard, the village itself, all kept running through his head. A week ago, Esk kar couldn’t have imagined this could happen. Now he could have power, gold, slaves, anything he wanted-if he could save Orak from the barbarians.

A big if, despite what he had told Nicar and Gatus. There was so much to do, it was difficult to know where to start. Tomorrow there would be many tasks to set in motion. He would have to talk with Gatus, choose new subcommanders, prepare to meet with Nicar, and speak to the soldiers.

Esk kar knew he faced long odds, but there might be a chance, and if he could win, if he succeeded, if the gods gave him luck, if… if… if.

His thoughts kept traveling in circles, going from Nicar’s dinner to the meeting of the nobles, thinking of all the things he should have said to his men and the crowd tonight, what else he should have discussed with Nicar, all the tasks he would have to do tomorrow, how he must address the men, what he must say to the Families. Each time he tried to follow one particular thought, another popped into his mind and started the cycle all over again.

The blanket shifted a little, and abruptly he felt Trella’s body against his back, her legs barely brushing against his, something softer touching his shoulder.

“You’re still awake,” she whispered, almost as if it were an accusation.

“It’s cold against the wall,” she explained further, to justify moving closer to him. “What are you thinking about?”

Whatever he’d been thinking about vanished with the first contact of her flesh. “You. I was thinking about you.” Thoughts of Orak, along with his tiredness, disappeared, and he felt himself beginning to harden.

“Don’t lie. You were thinking about Nicar and his gold.”

He laughed a little. She was certainly quick about her wits and bold enough to challenge her new master. “Well, I was thinking about Nicar, but not about his gold. But now I can’t remember my thoughts, only the touch of your body. You are very beautiful, Trella.”

She didn’t answer for a long moment. Then her arm crept over his shoulder, and somehow it seemed both cool to his skin and warm to his touch. Esk kar took her hand in his and held it firmly, the way he’d held it in the street earlier that night. She drew a little closer to him, and now he could almost feel the length of her body against his, warm and soft.

“And what do you think about now?”

He felt her breath against his ear.

“I think about holding you in my arms, holding you and kissing your lips.” His manhood raged now, almost painfully, with an intensity he hadn’t felt in a long time, but he didn’t want to move or do anything to break the spell cast by her words and touch.

“I am your slave, Esk kar,” she said, her voice low in his ear, moving more of her body against his back.

Her words surprised him, but he rolled to face her, putting his arms around her, feeling the muscles in her back as he pulled her against him.

Esk kar could feel her whole body against his, her skin almost hot to his touch. Something strange had come over him. Perhaps the events of the day aroused him, or the fact that she belonged to him. Suddenly he wanted her more than any woman he could remember. Most of all, he wanted her to be willing, wanted her to want him as well.

“A slave is taken. If you were just that, I would take you whether you wished it or not. But you’re more than a common slave girl. Even Nicar knew that, and I’m only a simple barbarian, not someone good with words.” But he couldn’t stop his hands from reaching out for her, and he heard Trella catch her breath as he cupped the softness of her breast.

“I saw the fear in your eyes when you first beheld the crowd outside.

But you said the right words, and I think now that you believe them.”

He said nothing, surprised at her words and a little shamed that his nervousness had been visible, at least to the girl. But he thought he’d managed it well enough, and perhaps no one else had noticed.

Her mouth brushed his cheek, banishing all such thoughts once again.

“I’m afraid, too, Esk kar. Afraid of the barbarians, afraid of the future.

But it is past time for me to become a woman, and I think you will not hurt me too much.” She let her body relax under his touch, burying her head against his shoulder. After a few moments, her hand slipped down between his legs and she gasped.

He kissed her cheek, then her mouth, gently at first, then harder and deeper as she clung to him. Caressing her body, touching her, stroking her stomach, he held off as long as he could, until he thought he would burst with desire, held off until she moaned for him and he could feel the wetness between her legs, before he mounted her, moving as slowly as he could, knowing he would hurt her, but trying to be as gentle as possible.

Then she cried out, a sharp exclamation of pain and intake of breath as her nails dug into his back, then smoothness and a gasp of delight as he entered her.

Esk kar lay still for a moment until she relaxed and her arms encircled him tightly once again. He began to rock against her, and now her small sounds of pain and pleasure mixed as her desire grew. When it was over, all too soon, he held her close, stroking her hair, enjoying her presence, until he fell asleep in her arms, sleeping the deep sleep of the emotionally spent as well as physically exhausted, feeling a sense of comfort in her clasp he hadn’t known since childhood.

Trella waited until she was sure she wouldn’t wake him. Then she gently disengaged her arm from around Esk kar’s neck, though she stayed close to him and could feel his breath against her breast. He stayed on his side, breathing heavily, with his arm thrown across her stomach. She stared up at the darkness, thinking about their lovemaking as silence surrounded them while the village slept. Now her troubled thoughts kept her awake.

It had been lovemaking, something she had wanted, though not for all the same reasons as the man beside her. Her virginity had become a problem. Nicar, his son, the other servants in Nicar’s home, even the slave traders who had delivered her to Orak, all of them had desired her, and her maidenhead offered an added attraction. This Esk kar, he’d wanted her as well, and he would have taken her willing or unwilling this night, except for the events of the day.

But tomorrow would have been different, and as captain of the guard he would have lost respect with his men if he hadn’t taken her. If she’d resisted, he would have beaten her, and she didn’t want such a beginning with him. No, better to get it over with, while she still had the gift to give to him. Much would be happening in the coming months and she’d need all her wits to stay alive, especially if the barbarians did come.

Still, he had wanted her, and the thought pleased her. Back at Nicar’s house, she’d seen it in his eyes, despite her cast — off garments and the tears sprinkling her cheeks. Trella recalled the despair that had washed over her when she first saw the tall barbarian with the grim face who now owned her.

Thus she reasoned, though occasionally the memory of her own desires questioned her logic. How strange, she admitted to herself, that when he chose not to take her, when he left the room, that was when she decided that, despite her apprehension, she wanted him to be the one. And by offering herself, rather than just letting herself be taken, she’d kept some dignity. A man must be more than an animal, and this Esk kar, barbarian or not, had shown that he possessed something more than what appeared on the surface. She might be a slave, but even a slave could share in her master’s life. His life was now hers, and Trella meant for both of them to rise in the future.

She hadn’t heard anything of what Esk kar and Nicar discussed during dinner, but she had overheard much of Nicar’s earlier talk with his wife, Creta, and later with Noble Drigo, including how Nicar’s worries about the coming barbarians had forced him to send for Esk kar. Somehow this barbarian had convinced Nicar that he could handle the village’s defense, and that accomplishment had surprised even Nicar, who had sharp wits of his own-as keen as those of her father.

The thought of her father sent a pang of sorrow through her, but she forced her mind away from the image of his body lying on the floor, blood pouring from his wounds, eyes staring sightlessly at the ceiling. He’d taught her well, too well, her mother used to say, recognizing in his daughter a mind as keen as his. Someday she hoped to avenge his death. But for now, she had no more tears to shed over her parents or her own misfortune.

This barbarian, she needed to learn all about him, as quickly as possible. He might be a strong fighter and experienced in battle, but she needed to know whether he had the wits to survive long enough even to meet the barbarians, let alone defeat them. That concerned her the most. Tomorrow she would learn much more about her new master. Everything in her future now depended on him.

Starting tonight, she belonged to a soldier, and a barbarian at that, so her status was little more than that of a camp follower or prostitute. However, if Esk kar succeeded as captain of the guard and took the lead in Orak’s defense, then his status, and hers, would be immeasurable. Though she knew even that feat might not be enough to overcome the stigma of his being both an outsider and a barbarian.

Nonetheless, if Nicar had seen something worthwhile in this man, then she must look for it also. And any place or any owner would prove better than remaining in Nicar’s house, with his disgusting son fondling her at every opportunity. A servant by day, she soon would have passed from father to son to the servants. Even life as this barbarian’s slave would be preferable to that existence.

This one’s lovemaking had surprised her. Her mother had warned her of the first night’s pain, but that had passed in one brief moment, her fear turning to surprise and pleasure. He’d treated her gently, more so than she had expected, and her own reactions to him made her twitch with embarrassment. Trella knew she’d been shameless, and she could still feel the wetness between her legs that brought back the sensations that had spun through her body faster than she could control them.

At last her thoughts slowed and she began to drift off to sleep, thinking about the man in her arms and knowing that tomorrow she would begin a new life as slave to this upstart captain of the guard. It wouldn’t be the life she had foreseen, the one she and her father had discussed often as he trained her. Instead of guiding and helping some wealthy and powerful trader, she now had to help this rough soldier turn back a barbarian invasion, a task that daunted her the more she thought about it.

She was too young for this, halfway into her fourteenth season, but she had to attempt it and hope her father’s teachings would be enough to overcome her inexperience.

Still, even Esk kar admitted that no one had ever driven off barbarians before, so perhaps her new master would listen to her advice. Trella decided she must use all she’d learned and her body as well, to keep him close. He would need her, need her more than he could know, just as Nicar had said.

And if Esk kar succeeded, then only the gods knew what the future could bring for them. There would be much work in the days ahead. Her final thought before she drifted off to sleep was that tomorrow night she would once again be in his bed and his arms, and this time there would be no fear, only pleasure.