“Master Builder,” Esk kar said, “your task is to build the wall; ours, to defend it.” He turned to Sisuthros. “If we allow the barbarians time to stand before the wall and dig at it with shovels and axes, then we’ll be lost.
If we give them that much time… no, we must kill any of them that make it to the ditch or to the base of the wall.”
Corio thought about Esk kar’s words for a moment. “The wall will not yield easily, and the packed dirt will be difficult to dislodge. But if enough men with the right tools attack the base of the wall, then in twenty or thirty minutes’ hard work, they could make a small breach.”
Less time than that, Esk kar thought, knowing Corio had never witnessed the ferocious energy of the steppes people at war. “We’ll not give them even ten minutes, Corio. Just make sure the wall doesn’t fall down.”
He looked at Trella to see if she had anything to add.
“Master Builder,” she began, “if you think it a good idea, perhaps you could build a small section, one that Esk kar and his men could pretend to attack to see how long it would take them to break it apart. What they learn might help you in your designs.”
Corio rubbed his chin as he considered her words. “An excellent suggestion, Trella. I’ve never tried to tear down anything I’ve built. We’re almost ready to begin anyway, so we will construct for you a ten or twenty — foot section of wall wherever you desire.”
“And how long before we see an actual wall standing before us?” Eskkar asked. They still needed to know if it could be done in time. But that question didn’t seem to worry Corio very much.
“Return in ten days, and you’ll see the first section of the wall completed,” he answered. “Right now, it’s more important for you to make sure that all the supplies and men that I require are delivered.”
“Then I go to attend to my task.” Esk kar gave a formal bow to Corio.
“And I leave you and Sisuthros to yours.”
Esk kar walked away with Trella at his side, ignoring the custom of having the slave walk behind the master. “Well, what did you think?”
“Corio is sure he can complete the wall in time unless something unexpected occurs. But I don’t think he gave much thought to how strong the wall would actually be. He’ll think about it now, and I’m sure he will make the base of the wall stronger than he’d planned, at least at the places you say the barbarians will attack.” She gave him a smile. “So, master, you have done well this day. Corio will build you a fighting wall, not a house wall.”
Esk kar laughed, then put his arm around her, giving her a hearty squeeze and a slap on her backside, ignoring the looks and smiles from the people in the lane. “Well, then, tonight you will have to work extra hard to make sure your master is rewarded for his quick thinking.”
When their lovemaking ended and Esk kar slept, Trella lay in the crook of his arm. She had to force her thoughts away from the warm glow of their passion, but she finally cleared her mind and thought about her future. The coming months would require long hours of hard work. She knew she’d be busy enough helping Esk kar manage the details of the defense, to make sure no key item was forgotten.
But all the coordination and planning for the attack would be only background to the real struggle that lay ahead. Her few days with Esk kar had convinced her, somewhat to her surprise, that her master possessed many good qualities and more wits than many gave him credit. He had proven capable and resourceful. Uneducated and rough he might be, but he had a personal code of honor that had won her respect and then her heart.
Esk kar had convinced Nicar, then the soldiers, and finally the rest of the villagers he could defend Orak, and now even she believed in him.
Give him the men and supplies, make sure that nothing is overlooked and every detail well planned, and he would have an even chance against the barbarians. And so she promised herself that she would do everything she could to give him that chance.
Nevertheless, Trella knew that even a successful defense of Orak would not guarantee Esk kar would survive. The moment the threat disappeared, the nobles and the leading merchants would remember Drigo’s destruction and how much gold Esk kar had cost them. They’d want to eliminate or remove the upstart captain of the guard. The nobles considered themselves too clever, too wealthy, and too powerful to submit to the rule of an outsider like Esk kar. Even less would they want someone like him to share in their rule, a constant reminder of what they owed to him. So while his dream of joining the nobles might be possible, it seemed doubtful that he, a barbarian himself, could long survive in that group.
No, they’d find a way to get rid of him, and that now included her as well. They’d remember she had provoked Drigo, that she had given Esk kar the help he needed to win over the merchants, and most of all that she’d been a slave. Her fate was bound up with her master’s and just as sealed.
Even if she survived, even if she were not kept as a slave, she’d be given in marriage to some minor son who would keep her in his household, a mere plaything or a source of children, locked away from everything and everyone, and soon forgotten.
Thus Esk kar might win the battle but lose the victory. So that must be where her true efforts should go, all her wits and resources committed to making sure that Esk kar and she retained the fruits of their victory. Not only would it prove difficult, she must do it quietly, so quietly that nobody knew what she was about. Even Esk kar, for now, was better off knowing nothing of her activities.
Knowledge would be the key. To know everything that went on in Orak would be her goal, and already she had several ideas about how to begin that task. Today, as they walked hand — in — hand through the village streets, she’d seen how the people looked at her, the slave girl who walked side — by- side with her master, the slave who’d surely cast a spell on the tall soldier, the slave who had brought down the House of Drigo, the slave who attended the councils of the Nobles. Those looks had reinforced her own assessment.
Tomorrow she’d begin winning over the common people, starting with the women. Once she’d swayed them to her side, she would use them to gather information. She would win allies and friends from among the villagers, especially the new ones that would flock to Orak in the next few months, the landless and friendless ones who would have little loyalty to the nobles or the wealthy merchants.
That started a new train of thought, and she shifted her body slightly, the small movement causing Esk kar to turn on his side but not to wake from his slumber. She smiled as she thought about herself and Esk kar-the barbarian soldier and the educated slave. Everyone in the village thought she’d bewitched him, used magic or potions to turn him into a leader of men. Even Nicar half — believed it. Perhaps that could be another ally. Let all of them think she had the gift of power over men.
Her wits were sharp, she knew, sharp enough to see quickly and easily many things that others saw only slowly or not at all. The common people would be one of the keys to power in the new Orak, she decided, a strong balance against the might and money of the nobles. Well, she would find a way to win the hearts of the crowd. She already had piqued their interest, a good first step. Yes, that was the way to power and security for herself and her lover. She smiled in the darkness and turned on her side, her arm crossing his body as she pulled herself close to him and fell asleep almost at once, feeling safe in his arms.
10
The next four weeks passed quickly for Esk kar, who started every morning before the sun rose and climbed exhausted into bed at night. Each day brought some new crisis or an unexpected setback. But the first group of recruits had joined the ranks, and another group of forty had started.
At last Bantor and Gatus had enough soldiers to man the gates, the docks, and the lanes, allowing Esk kar the luxury of sending out local patrols. Their reports confirmed men were converging on Orak. Some looked for a chance to fight the barbarians, others simply sought refuge or a place of safety to bring their families. More arrived each day, and as many came to stay as had left. Bantor’s men stopped everyone at the gate, where the arriving refugees learned they could either fight, dig, or move on. Only traders with their caravans and goods passed freely into Orak.
Patrols walked the village each day to make sure every man performed his assigned work task. Slackers received only one warning. At the second offense, Esk kar simply ordered them out of the village, forcing them to leave behind anything of value to the defense.
One foolish craftsman had resisted the order and drawn a knife. Bantor killed the man. His death was less
