6
For the next two hours the nobles argued, as much among themselves as with Esk kar. Nicar sent out for more wine, and voices rose as Esk kar explained what happened outside, and what Drigo and his men had planned for Orak. Finally satisfied with Drigo’s demise, the talk shifted back to the wall and the coming invasion. Esk kar explained his plans again and again, repeating how the barbarians could be beaten from behind a wall. The tide turned when Rebba posed a key question.
“Suppose, Esk kar, the wall cannot be built high and strong enough in the time we have. After all, it can take months to build even a house. What then?”
“Noble Rebba, that’s the most important question, and the one I can’t answer. We must meet with the builders and masons and learn whether a wall can be built. If it cannot, then we’re all free to stay or go.”
Rebba wasn’t finished yet. “Suppose they say it can be done and we start work, but the barbarians come before the wall is finished. We’d be trapped here, defenseless.”
Esk kar and Trella had spoken of that possibility. “We can only try, Rebba. But the first moment we learn we can’t finish in time, then we can leave. I don’t want to fight them in the open.”
Esk kar recalled more of Trella’s thoughts. “But if we run now, we abandon everything you’ve built here, and Orak will never be so great again. The trade up and down the river will dry up. Remember, too, we face danger in leaving a place and starting over. Every man becomes a looter, and every clan becomes a robber tribe. But if we drive them away, we break the old cycle of death and destruction. Orak will become the greatest village in the world. And you will own it.”
Rebba stared down at his wine cup. Esk kar wondered if all of them had drunk too much to think clearly. He’d wanted some wine himself, but one look at Trella standing behind him and he’d stayed with water. Now Rebba shifted his gaze toward Nicar and nodded.
“Esk kar,” began Nicar, “leave us for a moment. We need to discuss some things privately.”
“I understand.” He stood up, and it felt good to stretch his legs. “Come, Trella, we’ll wait in the garden. Take this,” he said, handing her Drigo’s blade. Small and well made, it would be a fitting gift. She might need it in the coming days.
When Esk kar opened the door, he found Creta there, and this time he knew she overheard every word. Her attitude had changed, and she bowed nervously toward him, this time with genuine respect. At the front entrance a manservant, his mouth agape, rushed to open the door for them.
Esk kar found Gatus and his men bunched inside the front garden.
They’d moved the nobles’ bodyguards into the courtyard. They sat weaponless on the ground, their backs to the wall that hid Nicar’s sanctuary from the street. Through the open gate, Esk kar saw villagers filling the lane, jammed together as tightly as possible in the narrow confines. Soldiers using spears kept them away from the entrance.
A shout went up from the crowd when they saw Esk kar emerge. The rising clamor was a mixture of people cheering and calling his name. Gatus strode over, a broad smile on his face.
“Greetings, Captain,” he said formally, bowing properly so that everyone could see Esk kar’s authority. “When they brought out Drigo’s body, word spread like a steppes fire. We had to bring the guards inside. It’s a good thing Drigo and his whelp were so unpopular.”
He moved closer so that only Esk kar could hear him. “I sent for the rest of the men when I saw the crowd growing. Maybe you should say something to them.”
Esk kar could barely hear him over the noise from the street. At least five hundred people packed the lane, more villagers than he’d ever seen gathered together before. He turned to Trella. “What shall I say?” Just as he’d gotten accustomed to speaking freely with the Families, he now had to speak to a rabble and had no idea what to tell them.
She pulled his arm down so she could speak in his ear. “It doesn’t matter. You’re a hero to them now. Tell them that all will be well, that Nicar and the others will speak to them soon.”
“But the nobles haven’t finished talking yet. Suppose they decide to run?”
“Never! They decided to stay and fi ght an hour ago. They just needed to talk themselves into it.”
He forced a smile to his face and strode toward the gate. Propping his foot on the gate’s crossbar, he pulled himself up so he rose above the throng and held up his hand for silence. It took time for the noise to cease, helped along by stern words from the soldiers in front, which gave him time to think.
“People of Orak,” he began, raising his voice. “The Four Families will speak to you soon. You’ll hear from them what we plan to do.”
An angry roar answered him, some people shouting that the Families would run, others that he must save them, some merely crying his name over and over. They began to press against his men. Soon they’d push their way into the garden.
“Silence,” he roared in his battle voice, loud enough to be heard the length of the street. “Silence, or I’ll leave you to the barbarians!” That stopped both the noise and the push of the crowd toward the house. He took another deep breath. “Go to the marketplace and await Nicar and the other Families. Go now!”
He swung down from the gate but his sandal caught in the crosspiece and he lost his balance. Only Gatus’s strong arm kept him upright. Gods, if he’d fallen on his ass, the villagers would have laughed themselves senseless. He and Trella went back into the house, the door already opened wide by the waiting servant. When it closed safely behind them, he breathed a sigh of relief, then looked up to find Nicar walking toward him.
“Well, Esk kar, what other surprises do you have for us? Perhaps you should tell us what you’ve decided to do. I begin to wonder what I have unleashed.”
Despite the irony in Nicar’s words, Esk kar heard respect in them as well.
“Nothing you need worry about, Nicar. I only want to hear your decision. Do we stay and fight, or do we run?”
“The Families have decided to stay and lead the defense of Orak,” Nicar answered, raising his voice and knowing his words would be heard and repeated. “You’ll be in command of Orak until the barbarians have been driven off.” He lowered his voice so only Esk kar and Trella could hear.
“Though I wonder what will happen then.” Nicar shrugged resignedly. “It doesn’t matter. What must we do now?”
“Take the nobles to the marketplace. Let everyone see that all are united in this. You know better than I what to say. After all of you speak, then I’ll tell them how hard it’s going to be.”
Nicar nodded, pulling at his beard. “Is there anything else?”
“No, nothing. I’m sure there will be…” Trella grasped his arm and whispered in his ear. “Oh, yes… I think you should send men to take possession of Drigo’s house and goods. We can begin paying for the defense of Orak with his gold.”
“Yes, an excellent suggestion, Esk kar.” Nicar glanced at Trella. “That may soften the blow to the Families as well.” Nicar hesitated for a moment.
“And what do you want from Drigo’s goods for yourself?”
“I want nothing to do with his gold.” Murdering men for their goods might bring down the anger of the gods, or so the priests said, and he’d tried to avoid their wrath as much as possible since he ceased his raiding days. “But his house is large and will make an excellent headquarters for my men, as well as a place to begin storing our weapons. When you have emptied it, perhaps you’ll approve our using it.”
“And after this is over, you’ll keep it, I suppose,” Nicar answered. “Well, why not? I did promise you a house, though I wasn’t expecting it to be larger than my own.”
“Nicar, if I live long enough to keep his house, I’ll pay you and the other Families fairly for it. You can tell that to the nobles, if any ask.”
Nicar studied him for a moment. “You continue to surprise me, Esk kar.
Take the house at sundown tomorrow. That will give us time to search it and discover Drigo’s hiding places.”
Nicar faced Trella once again. “I wonder if I made a mistake in giving you away. Your laughter started the killing as surely as a blow. For a moment I thought you both planned it in advance.” He shook his head. “No, that can’t be true. Young Drigo, the fool, brought it on himself.”
Nicar turned back to Esk kar. “Though you didn’t need to kill his father.
