The small room, less than half the size of Trella’s workroom, had no windows, but a hint of moonlight filtered into the chamber from the roof opening. Like nearly every other humble dwelling in Akkad, the inhabitants slept on the roof during the hottest part of the summer. Tammuz unbuckled his belt, and tossed it and his knife on a table, then struggled to remove the unfamiliar cloak, a covering he seldom wore.
En-hedu’s hand reached out. “Let me help you with that, master.”
She untied the cloak, then folded it neatly and placed in on the table.
He stood there, embarrassed at needing anyone’s help to remove a garment.
“Lady Trella told me much about you, master.” En-hedu kept her voice low, making sure her words could not be heard beyond the closed door. “She said you work in Lord Eskkar’s service.”
So she knew about his duties, just not that they considered him Hawk Clan.
“It’s little enough that I do for Lady Trella,” he said.
“She is a great lady. Without her help, I would be dead, either murdered by my master, or by my own hand.”
Tammuz felt wide awake now, despite the late hour, and her words piqued his curiosity. He guided En-hedu to one of two stools that faced each other across the small table, the only other furniture in the room beside the narrow bed, a small chest, and the ladder that provided access to the roof. The darkness shielded them both and made it somehow easier for him to talk. “Sit down. Would you like some ale? Or wine? I have…”
“No, nothing, master. The hour is late. You should be asleep, taking your rest.”
“I can’t sleep now. Tell me about yourself. How did you meet Lady Trella?”
They spoke for almost an hour. Tammuz learned that En-hedu’s parents had sold her at the slave market within days of her becoming a woman. She’d just entered into her thirteenth season, and her parents pocketed ten silver coins for their virgin daughter. Her new master, a tanner with his own shop, put in long hours at his craft, and made sure his new slave worked even harder.
When her master’s labor ended at sundown, En-hedu’s continued. He expected to be fed and pleasured long into the evening. The slightest fault on her part resulted in a beating, usually followed by a painful rape. She’d put up with it for three years, before she overcame her fear and struck back in desperation. That’s when he broke her nose. Neighbors heard her cries, and managed to stop him before he beat her to death.
The brutal beatings continued for the next few months, two or three times a week. Some days she could hardly stand, let alone work at the tannery. A woman living nearby sought out Trella and told her the story, and the extent of the beatings.
Trella and Annok-sur arrived the next day, escorted by two Hawk Clan soldiers, and offered the tanner five silver coins for his slave. The man refused. “Very well,” Trella replied. “Then I offer you four silver coins. If you do not take them, right now, tomorrow you will find that no one will purchase your leather, no one will sell you hides, no one will sell you bread or help you quench your thirst for ale. Soon no one will even speak to you. You will have to leave Akkad. Choose now.”
Tammuz laughed when En-hedu told that part of the story, imitat-ing Trella’s manner of speaking. “Yes, I remember her commanding the servants and even the soldiers in Eskkar’s house. It would be a brave man to stand up to her.”
“I remember every word she said,” En-hedu answered. “I was on my knees in a corner of his hut, where he’d told me to stay, afraid to look up.
Lady Trella waited, and when my master didn’t answer, she dropped four coins on the floor, called my name, and told me to come with her. Then she turned and left. I wanted to follow her, but couldn’t get to my feet. One of the soldiers had to help me. I thought I’d been saved by a goddess. I couldn’t stop crying.”
He reached across the table and touched her hand. “There’ll be no beatings here, En-hedu. I’ve never had a slave before, and I’m not sure how you can help me. This place will look even worse in the morning, nothing like Lady Trella’s fine house. If you wish, you can return to her service.
I’m sure she can find someone… someone better for you.”
She pondered his words for a moment. “No. Lady Trella said I could be helpful to you, and that what you do was important to Lord Eskkar and her. I will stay with you. She said you needed a woman to look after you.
I’m strong, and work hard. Don’t send me away.”
Before he could answer, En-hedu stood up.
“Now it is time to sleep. Come to bed, master.”
Tammuz heard the rustle of her dress as she pulled it over her head.
Then she took his hand and guided him next to the bed. Without asking, she helped remove his tunic, then crawled into the bed, closest to the wall.
When he joined her, she pulled the blanket over them both.
He felt her naked body against him, and couldn’t resist reaching out his hand. She flinched at his touch, then lay still, submitting to his caress.
Tammuz, his member painfully stiff, hesitated. He remembered Trella’s words. “Be patient,” she’d said. Taking a deep breath, he took En-hedu’s hand in his, and told her to sleep. He waited a long time, staring up into the darkness, until her breathing grew rhythmic and he knew she slept. To his surprise, he found her presence comforting.
And distracting. He felt her warmth under the blanket, and his erection refused to subside. For someone who’d never had a woman-now to have a girl in his bed seemed a dream come true.
To take his mind off En-hedu, he started thinking about Korthac.
Like many others in Akkad, Tammuz had gaped the first time he’d seen the Egyptian walking about the lanes, often with only a single bodyguard. But after a few days, the novelty wore off, and Tammuz, like most of Akkad, forgot about the man. Nevertheless, Lady Trella sensed something odd, something dangerous, about Korthac, and she seldom made mistakes in such matters. Tammuz tried to remember all the things he’d heard about the foreigner.
Korthac spent most of his day at the inn he’d chosen for his home.
His men stayed close by, never wandering about alone, not drinking in the ale shops, not doing much of anything, staying inside even in the light of day. Tammuz realized how odd that was. Servants, whether bodyguards or porters or household slaves, were always wandering about, trying to avoid work and their masters.
Tammuz knew all about the petty thefts servants and slaves engaged in, either from their masters or neighbors. Clothing disappeared, sandals, trinkets, dozens of small items often vanished and reappeared at the local alehouses, sometimes traded for a single cup of ale. Many brought such things to his establishment to sell, or to those traders in the marketplace who didn’t ask questions. But as far as he knew, none of Korthac’s men had ever entered his or any other alehouse in Akkad.
He wondered if Trella had noticed this. No, she would have mentioned it. Something like that was probably too insignificant a detail for Trella’s spies, something that should be, but wasn’t. Tammuz wondered if he’d noticed a small detail Trella hadn’t… and what that might mean. He put the thought aside for later. Lady Trella, he knew, had a keen interest in small details, always asking for more and more information. Tammuz made a mental note to ask her about it.
Tomorrow he’d take a closer look at Korthac’s inn. Tammuz could ask one of his patrons to approach Korthac’s men, looking for something to buy. If he could get one of the Egyptians to sell some trinket, he might be able to learn something useful about their master.
This whole business could turn out to be nothing, just misplaced curiosity on Lady Trella’s part. Still, she had summoned him to her house and asked for his help. Never before had she, or anyone, for that matter, asked him for anything. He’d passed on bits of talk he heard, men grumbling over their ale, but nothing of importance had ever come to his attention.
This Korthac might actually present some small danger to Akkad. Tammuz determined to solve the riddle, if for no other reason than to justify Lady Trella’s asking him.
With that decided, he drifted off to sleep, again thinking about the warmth of En-hedu’s body brushing against him, as she turned in her sleep.
It would be difficult to restrain himself. Still, if Tammuz had learned one thing since smashing his arm, it was how to be patient.
They woke together at dawn, bodies curled against one another. Tammuz hadn’t shared a bed with anyone, let alone a woman, in months. Since the day he and Kuri moved into the alehouse, he’d slept alone in the back
