men managed to escape on foot, driven to the west. They’d run and walked for over a week until they reached this miserable collection of huts called Magabad. Ariamus had taken over the village, but he didn’t have enough men, and after two days of indignities, the villagers rose up in the night. They killed two of their oppressors as they slept and captured the rest, to put them to the torture. If Korthac had arrived an hour later, Ariamus would have died under the knife, along with all his men.
“You say this Eskkar was once one of these fierce barbarians, so hated by the people of Orak. Yet despite that, though you say he did nothing, Orak’s inhabitants made him their ruler. Your customs for selecting leaders are very different from those of Egypt.”
Ariamus bit his lip at the sarcasm, no doubt tempted to say something rash. “No, lord, not nothing. Eskkar can fight, and he has some skill with a sword.”
Korthac wondered what other skills this Eskkar possessed. Not that it mattered. “Since you knew him so well, describe him again, Ariamus. Let me see him through your words, before I meet him.”
Putting down his empty wine cup, Ariamus licked his lips. “He’s a common barbarian, lord, one of the horse people. They tend to be taller and stronger than those of us who grew up in these lands. Riding a horse all day keeps any man fit and hard. Eskkar is taller even than most of his kind, taller than me by at least a hand’s breadth, and nearly as strong.”
His Egyptians considered the powerfully built Ariamus tall, so Eskkar must be of considerable size, which might make him a formidable fighter, at least to these people. “Go on. Show me his face.”
Ariamus closed his eyes for a moment. “He has straggly dark brown hair, almost black, that he usually forgets to tie back. Hides most of his face half the time. Brown eyes, and hardly any beard. A thin scar, probably from a knife, slants down his left cheek, from just below the eye. Still has all his teeth, or at least he did when I last saw him. Speaks slowly, and with a strong accent. I thought he was dull-witted when I first met him.”
Ariamus shrugged. “Just an ordinary barbarian, lord. I still can’t believe he survived the barbarians’ attack.”
Despite Ariamus’s dismissive words, Korthac knew better. It took more than a sword to command, and ordinary men don’t rule mighty villages.
“But now these barbarians are gone, the fields are ravaged, and bandits such as you roam the countryside.” Korthac smiled at Ariamus. Once the man learned his place, Ariamus would make an excellent servant. More important, his brutish skills and crude desires matched Korthac’s needs perfectly. The time had come to tell the man of his role in Korthac’s plan.
“You are an experienced fighter, Ariamus, and I require one such as yourself, who knows the land and its people. You can help me, and at the same time take your revenge on Orak. And you can earn much gold and a place of honor in my city.” Korthac noted the gleam of interest that widened Ariamus’s eyes at the mention of gold.
Then a puzzled look came over Ariamus’s face. “Your city, lord?”
“Yes, my city. Orak will be my city when I take charge of it. My men are powerful and experienced soldiers. They have fought many battles and survived passage through the great desert. I intend first to rule this Orak, and then all these lands, as I reigned over the cities and villages of Egypt.
You will help me, and as my servant, you will have more power than you’ve ever dreamed of. Or have you already forgotten your oath to me?”
Ariamus glanced toward the two men standing nearby, watching and listening in silence. “You do not have enough men to conquer Orak.”
“Do not underestimate my desert fighters. They are the strongest of those who fought for me in Egypt, and each one of them is worth two or three of your kind.”
“Even so, Orak has hundreds of men to defend it, lord,” Ariamus said, shaking his head. “You do not have enough men.”
“No, not yet. But you will find them for me, and you will command them. Such men will prefer to follow one of their own kind, at least in the beginning. That is why I need someone from this land who knows how to fight and how to lead men. The treasure I carried across the desert will pay my new followers until all of Orak’s wealth is mine. If this land is as troubled and unsettled as you claim, we will soon have more than enough men.”
In the desert, Korthac’s followers had taken turns carrying the four sturdy bags containing amethyst, cornelian, jasper, onyx, quartz crystal, emeralds, and other sacred stones stolen from rich merchants or looted from the temples of the Egyptian gods. His men had thrown away their weapons, their gold, even their clothing, but Korthac refused to let them abandon the last part of the wealth he’d captured. They begged him to bury it, but Korthac killed one who refused the burden, and after that, they obeyed. He knew it would be needed if they made it across the desert.
Korthac recognized the doubt on Ariamus’s face. “Don’t think I will ride against the walls of Orak like those ignorant barbarians. No, I will take Orak from within. One night of blood will establish my rule. And you will help me.”
“What can I do, lord?” Ariamus leaned forward, greed and the desire for revenge on Orak struggling with his usual caution. “I mean
… lord… how can I…”
“You can and will do as I command, Ariamus. You will help me fulfi ll my destiny, which is to rule this land. If the village is as rich and prosperous as you claim, its resources will supply me and my men with all that we need. Soon all the other villages up and down the two rivers will succumb to my will. I will build a mighty empire, starting with Orak.”
Sufficient light remained for Korthac to see the lingering doubt in the man’s eyes. He smiled at his newest follower.
“And you, Ariamus, you will have more wealth and power as my subcommander than you could ever attain on your own. In my name, you will command hundreds of fighters, and enjoy the choicest women in Orak and the surrounding countryside. Or are you not interested in what I offer?”
“I am interested, lord,” Ariamus said. “I will be your subcommander.”
Korthac smiled. As he expected, Ariamus’s greed had overcome any misgivings. For wealth and power, the man would do anything.
Unlike most men, Korthac had no interest in gold and gemstones, mere tools to bind men to him. Only power, the power to rule everyone, to command their lives or their deaths, meant anything to Korthac. That destiny had guided him even before he grew to manhood, and he would not turn away from it now.
“Tomorrow we will leave this place and begin our journey east. We’ll take a few villagers with us as slaves, to carry food and water. I will allow you and your men to kill the rest, as revenge for capturing you. Besides, it’s best that no one know from whence we came. As we travel, I will tell you how I will capture this Orak.” Korthac changed the subject with a wave of his hand. “But now, tell me more about Eskkar, this wanderer turned mighty ruler. I must learn the ways of my enemy.”
“Lord, I’ve told you everything I can remember.”
“I am sure you can remember much more, Ariamus. Or do you need some encouragement?” Korthac smiled once again and leaned back against the tree. “Take your time and start at the beginning. Tell me of when you came to Orak, what you did, how you became captain of the guard.”
Korthac had heard the story several times already, but each reitera-tion added some new insight, some further detail that helped him better understand this land and its people. He called out for ale, all this miserable village could provide in the way of strong spirits. A woman appeared with a jar and two wooden cups. Kneeling, she filled his cup, then did the same for Ariamus before returning to the shadows.
He watched Ariamus staring into his ale cup. The man wanted to drink, but he’d learned his place and his manners in the last few weeks.
Only after his new master had taken a sip would the man drink from his own cup. Korthac drank a mouthful of the bitter barley brew, then waited until Ariamus drank, gulping loudly until he lowered his empty cup.
“Now, Ariamus, tell me again of this barbarian and the slave girl who bewitched him. They stand in my way… our way now. So tell me everything, every little story you can remember, about Eskkar and his witch-wife.”
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