They sat down at the table and began to eat. Trella explained her new arrangement with one of the street vendors. A boy would deliver their breakfast each morning. Esk kar knew he could look forward to more good meals from now on.
When they fi nished, Esk kar and Trella went over ideas about the wall.
They’d discussed this last night, but Esk kar wanted to be sure he didn’t forget anything.
Trella’s ability to anticipate problems continued to impress him. She was teaching him to think like a ruling noble, something his years in and around Orak and other villages had never succeeded in doing.
Not that her wits or ideas mattered to him any longer. If she were deaf and dumb, he’d keep her for her lovemaking. Already he looked forward to the coming night.
A tall shadow appeared in the doorway, darkening the room, and a voice called out. “Greetings, Esk kar. Nicar asked that I speak with you.”
“Enter, Honored Corio.” Esk kar put thoughts of Trella in his bed aside, rose from the table and extended his hand to the master artisan. “Join us at table. Would you care for some wine?”
“Not at present, thank you,” Corio spoke in a deep bass voice. He sat down at the table. The builder’s eyes examined his host closely, no doubt sizing up the new Esk kar, who yesterday had magically been transformed from a common soldier into a leader of men.
“Trella, this is Master Corio, the most important builder in Orak.” Eskkar looked at Corio. “Trella will join us. I find her most useful to keep track of things.”
If Corio found anything strange in that, he said nothing. Esk kar noticed that he did give Trella a thorough look.
“Well, then, Esk kar, what’s all this about a wall? I wasn’t at the marketplace yesterday, but I heard you and Nicar promised a wall would be built around the village, a wall big enough to stop the barbarians.” He tightened his lips. “I meant no disrespect with the word.”
Esk kar laughed. He guessed the thoughts in Corio’s head. Yesterday Esk kar would have bowed to him in the street. Today Corio would worry that he might be killed as easily as young Drigo-and with as little consequence. Esk kar smiled to put the man at ease.
“I’m well civilized, Corio, so use the word as you wish. As you say, I promised a wall to the villagers yesterday, and now I must ask you to help me keep my promise. I need a wall around Orak, high enough and strong enough to keep the barbarians at bay, a wall that I can fill with bowmen to pour arrows into their ranks. Can you build such a wall?”
“Any wall can be built, Captain. How high a wall would be needed?”
“At least twenty — five feet high. That height gives my archers a clear field of fire even as it increases their range. Of course, the wall would have to be strong enough so that it could not be easily pulled down.”
When Corio didn’t respond, Esk kar went on. “The wall need not surround all of Orak. We’d have the outlying houses torn down and the fields on both sides flooded. I rode around the village two days ago. The wall would have to be bigger than the palisade is today, but not too much more.”
Corio shifted a little on the bench, as if he found it uncomfortable. “A wall such as you describe would take at least a year, perhaps as many as two, to build. You expect the barbarians to arrive in five months?”
“Your pardon, Master Corio.” Trella’s voice was properly subservient.
“My master does not mean to tell you what to construct. You are the master builder. He only asks what can be built that will stop the barbarians. Is that not correct, master?”
Eskkar kept his face impassive. “Yes, of course, that’s what I meant. I would not tell the blacksmith how to cast me a sword. I can only ask for what I need.” Esk kar leaned back in his chair. He’d asked Corio, politely and respectfully, for his services. Honor required that the artisan give an honest answer.
Corio drummed his fingers on the table. “Assuming that I remain in Orak to work on such a project, how many men would be available to work on this wall? Also, materials would need to be purchased from other places along the river. And we might need craftsmen from other villages as well.
How much coin is Nicar willing to pay?”
“You’ll have every man in the village, Corio. Everyone, including myself and my soldiers if necessary, plus the hundreds of new men who’ll begin arriving, driven south by the oncoming barbarians. Seven days a week and long into the night. No man will be spared. Even Nicar has promised to labor on it. And all the gold of the Families will be made available to buy whatever is needed.”
As the master artisan sat contemplating this information, Esk kar did some sizing up of his own. About the same age, Corio stood a few inches shorter, with thinning hair already tinted with gray. His face had almost no trace of a beard, and his eyes gleamed with intelligence. Esk kar knew him to be a skilled craftsman, used to naming his own prices, working at his own pace, and following his own rules. Nothing could compel him to build the wall. They needed a key to get him involved, something that would make him want to stay. Esk kar remembered what Trella had suggested.
“Listen, Corio,” Esk kar leaned across the table, “if we can hold off the barbarians, Orak will be the biggest and most important village for a hundred, no, two hundred miles in every direction. The man who builds the wall that saves Orak will be the most famous and skilled artisan in the land. It will be the wall that defeats the barbarians, not the soldiers, not the villagers. Your fame would spread up and down the river, and you’d be remembered forever. And you’d be well paid for your efforts.”
And if you can’t, Esk kar thought to himself as he settled back, then we’ll all begin planning our departure.
“Master, I recall that Noble Nicar spoke about establishing another House to replace Drigo’s,” Trella added. “If Corio agreed to build such a wall, surely Nicar and the Families would accept him as their equal.”
Nicar had said no such thing, but Esk kar liked the idea anyway. Even he knew of Corio’s reputation as an honest man who treated everyone fairly. Nicar and the Families could do worse. “It’s a chance to join the nobles, Corio. Think of the honor. You’d become one of Orak’s rulers.”
The artisan sat there, glancing from one to the other. “And Nicar has agreed to that?” he asked pointedly.
“If he’s forgotten, my master will remind him.”
Esk kar nodded. “Yes, I’m sure nothing will be denied the man who raises the wall that saves Orak.” We have him now, Esk kar decided-even Corio couldn’t resist the thought of establishing his own noble house.
Esk kar had run out of words, so he waited in silence, watching as Corio thought some more, the artisan’s fingers again drumming on the tabletop.
The drumming stopped abruptly as Corio stood up. “Excuse me a moment, Captain.” He stepped to the doorway and called out to someone.
Immediately a young man carrying a large cloth pouch rushed to his master. Taking the pouch, Corio returned to the table, extracted a cylinder of leather about the size of a quiver of arrows and removed its cap. Carefully, he withdrew a roll of papyrus and set it out on the table, holding down the corners with four small weights that also came from the pouch.
The papyrus proved to be a map, one that showed the bend of the river and the village. Esk kar had heard of such a thing before but had never seen one. Even the papyrus sheet itself was rare, not something found in the lands nearby, but an expensive item traded on the river.
As for the map, it was as if Esk kar were a bird flying high in the sky, looking down at the Tigris and the village from above. The river flowed in a pale blue stream, but everything else had been stroked in black or brown. The village showed clearly, with a line around it that indicated the palisade. Esk kar caught the excitement in Trella’s eyes and knew that she had never seen such a treasure either.
“This is a map prepared by my slave several weeks ago. After yesterday’s… events, I sent him round the village and palisade again, and then we worked on other details most of the night. So… what’s shown here is correct in most respects.”
Esk kar’s eyes stayed on the map, but he thought about Corio’s words.
Working through the night meant burning lamps or candles, expensive items even for Corio. Even more interesting was that Corio had heard all the talk about the barbarians and the wall, and prepared himself for this meeting. That meant that Corio had the wit to see what would be asked of him even before he’d received the summons. It also meant that Corio had his answers ready-and that Esk kar had better ask the right questions.
Trella kept telling me to anticipate everything. Under the table and out of Corio’s sight, his hands tightened
