He wouldn’t know any more than we do.” She shook her head. “Besides, he’s sent back gold as well as goods from Bisitun, and the council is happy that the lands up there are being pacifi ed.”
“And this new woman Eskkar is keeping? Suppose he begins to forget about you?”
“The child will bring him back,” Trella said, though the same doubts had visited her. “Let him have his pleasures for now. He risked his life taking the village.”
“At least Bantor will return soon.”
“That will make both of us feel better, Annok-sur.”
“Maybe we should get rid of this Korthac, if for no other reason than to stop you from worrying about him.”
“No, not yet, not until we learn more. There’s plenty of time, and sooner or later, we’ll find out what he’s hiding.”
15
Ten days after the feast of Ishtar, Korthac stepped from his house and into the lane. Well past dawn, his guards had already checked the street, and today Hathor waited there as well, looking as alert as the two soldiers protecting Korthac this day. No one in Akkad questioned his need for bodyguards. Everyone knew he often carried large quantities of gems or the gold from their sale on his person, and that made him a tempting target for any thief desperate enough to risk his life. So far no one had made the attempt. Korthac’s guards looked too alert, hands always on their swords and eyes constantly moving, searching for any threat.
For any thief bold enough to get past the guards, Korthac carried a long knife of his own, and no one doubted he knew how to use it. Even if a daring thief managed to cut Korthac’s purse and escape, the whole city would be turned out looking for the robber. Everyone understood that Korthac had made many friends in Akkad, and its traders and leading merchants would demand the soldiers hunt down the cutpurse, even if he tried to flee the city.
This morning, however, the lane outside of Korthac’s new dwelling appeared as peaceful as every other day, just the usual handful of vendors hawking their goods to those who, avoiding eye contact, hurried by.
Korthac’s lane didn’t have much foot traffic, not with the marketplace only two lanes over. Most of the more established and better quality vendors sold their merchandise there. Away from the market, goods tended to be of more dubious quality, with correspondingly lower prices. Most of the carts and booths near Korthac’s house were staffed by women, often surrounded by what seemed like gangs of children, all either shouting or crying, whose noise and antics managed to annoy anyone simply trying to get through.
Today the lane appeared relatively quiet, and Korthac started walking, one guard leading the way and the other following behind. Hathor took his usual place at Korthac’s left side, and the quartet of Egyptians began their journey to the docks.
“Another fine day,” Korthac said, glancing up first at the bright blue sky and then shifting his gaze to his still- tired subcommander. When Hathor and Nebibi had returned to Akkad the night before, both men reported to Korthac on Ariamus’s activities. Nevertheless, ever cautious, Korthac wanted to hear it again, in more detail. His plan required careful timing, and events had to unfold on schedule to avoid failure.
“Yes, lord,” Hathor said, his ever-vigilant eyes searching for danger as they walked.
They entered the marketplace, already crowded with buyers and sellers, some still arriving from the nearby farms. The most industrious rose well before dawn, to occupy the more advantageous locations in the square.
Those who had farther to travel would continue to arrive for the next few hours. Nearly all of the local farmers sold their crops and animals in the morning, and started returning to their homes an hour or so after midday.
Those farther away usually faced a long day, selling their goods to the boat captains visiting the city; unfortunately, many of the boats didn’t arrive until well into the afternoon.
Korthac stepped with care, watching not only where he placed his feet, but also the jostling crowd. A man could get bumped by a basket of fruit, or run over by a squealing cart laden with produce. Each day required charting a different path through the market, the result of constantly changing stalls, squealing animals, even buyers and sellers. The city’s local craftsmen, who usually sold their leather, tools, clay pots, and some bronze tools and bowls every day, had to take whatever space they could find, fitting themselves between farmers’ carts bearing fruit or vegetables, or cages of chickens. Raucous noise filled the square, with men trying to attract customers competing with frightened animals in cages or tethered to anything solid.
Today only a few slave traders congregated at their usual corner of the marketplace. A scarce and unpredictable market, the slavers always attracted a good deal of attention from the crowd. Sellers paraded their wares, mostly women or young girls, shouting out their abilities and boasting of their skills. Some of the slaves promoted themselves, eager to find a good master and earn their keep and find a secure place to live in Akkad.
In many cases, parents sold their unneeded children, amid much crying and tears as fathers clutched a few coins and watched as their sons or daughters became the property of someone else. Dozens of gawkers, idlers, or even people just passing through, stopped and listened, always interested in the buying and selling of human flesh.
In Egypt, Korthac recalled, the slavers’ market operated in much the same manner, except the snap of the whip echoed out over the slaves’ cries more often. Here, a steward or head of a household watched the slaves, and little force or punishment was needed. Indeed, Korthac had been surprised to find that most of those in Akkad’s slave market offered themselves for sale, hoping to find an easier life than whatever one they’d left behind on the farm or in some remote village. Even parents selling their children hoped their child would fi nd a better life as a slave to some well-off merchant or craftsman in the growing city. Selling a daughter was less painful, since there was little difference between a slave and a wife; both obeyed someone else for the rest of their lives.
Thieves and bandits made up the last group of slaves, and these were watched and guarded more carefully. Ordered into slavery for their crimes, they knew the life they faced; they’d labor hard for the rest of their lives.
And if any slaves ran away, Akkad’s soldiers would hunt them down and bring them back. Apparently, so Korthac understood, Eskkar himself had fulfilled that menial role not so long ago. A slave hunter who now thought he ruled a city.
But not for much longer, Korthac knew. Hathor’s latest report told of steady progress by Ariamus and Takany. The number of men and horses under Korthac’s command increased steadily, and soon they would be put to use.
The crowds thinned as Korthac and Hathor cleared the marketplace, and soon they passed out of the river gate. Activity at the docks varied each day, as boat captains arrived and departed, some making more than one trip a day, others passing through Akkad and going up or down the great river on longer voyages.
Korthac reached his chosen place of business, close enough to the docks to see every arrival, but far enough away to avoid being trampled underfoot by those loading or unloading goods. Other gem traders sold in the marketplace, but Korthac needed a quieter place to run his business, away from the mob of gawkers who didn’t have two coppers to rub together. Since he sold only high-quality gems, serious buyers soon learned where to find him. At least this morning Korthac wouldn’t have to wait for his hired man to arrive and set out his stall. For a copper coin each day, a carpenter living just inside the gate agreed to store Korthac’s narrow table, three-legged stool, and awning pole safely each night, and return it first thing in the morning.
Today everything was in place, and the carpenter stood there, grinning and waiting for his coin. Hathor handed it over while Korthac took his seat on the stool. He could have had his guards carry the load each day from and to the house, but Korthac decided that would make him a figure of fun, a rich man who traveled throughout the city with two guards carrying his makeshift stall.
Once paid, the man rushed off, eager to be about his own trade, without a word of thanks to either Hathor or Korthac. Not that Korthac really cared about words of gratitude; he intended to cut the man’s ears off as soon as he took power.
Korthac settled in for another day of sham trading. As usual, he sent one of the guards to take a place near the gate, with orders to look for anyone who might be taking too much interest in Korthac’s table. The other guard
