an insignificant place, a mere way station on the road to Akkad, and no one, soldier or villager, would be surprised if he left it and its misery behind. Eskkar had urgent business farther north, at Bisitun, and he could ill afford the time to scour the countryside looking for a small party of well-mounted and well-armed bandits, or to worry about the fate of a few pathetic villagers. Eventually, the bandits would leave the area when they had exhausted its food or tired of its women. Or when Eskkar established control of the land to the north. So in a matter of days or weeks, the problem here would be solved even if he did nothing.
Nevertheless, these villagers had now come under his protection. If Eskkar could not look after these wretched people by killing a few brigands, then his own authority would be little better than any bandit leader.
But as long as he stayed here, the bandits would not return, and he could not remain here long. Nor could he leave behind enough men to protect Dilgarth properly. He would need all of his soldiers in the north.
If he rode on, the bandits would return as soon as he had passed on. Without sufficient men, and even more important, without enough horses, he couldn’t chase after the bandits either. Besides, Eskkar didn’t know how many men they had, and he might soon find himself fighting a force equal to or greater than his twenty horsemen. So he had a problem with no easy solution, but one he needed to resolve, and quickly.
Eskkar looked at Nisaba, and he could almost see the same thoughts running through her mind. “Elder, I will think about this for a while. You and the others must eat. My men will share their food with you.” He looked at Sisuthros, seated a few steps away, making sure his second in command understood the request. “Then we will talk again, Nisaba.”
He stood up, and his men began to move. He heard Sisuthros give the orders to establish the camp, post the sentries, and feed the villagers.
Leaders of ten assigned sleeping places to their men while others saw to the pack animals. With all the activity underway, Eskkar entered the village’s largest dwelling, the home that the bandit leader had taken for his own headquarters.
Inside, Eskkar found the floor covered with discarded bones and shreds of cooked and raw fl esh scattered among broken pots and furniture. Flies buzzed about, feeding on the refuse. One corner had served as a casual latrine. Blood smears covered one wall and the dirt fl oor in the far corner was crusted red, either with wine or more blood. An odor of something rotten hung in the air, overpowering even the smell of urine.
Ignoring it all, Eskkar found an upended stool, picked it up, and sat down facing the doorway. He didn’t look up when Grond and two soldiers entered and began cleaning up the place. One of the men had found a broom, and the other carried a pail of clean sand to dump over the urine-soaked dirt. They all worked quietly, not wanting to disturb their leader.
By the time they finished, Sisuthros entered, followed by one of the camp boys and two women from the village, carrying platters with some dried meat, bread, and dates, as well as a crude carved goblet containing wine.
The food and wine came from Akkad; the bandits had taken what little food remained in Dilgarth when they left.
Eskkar looked up as one of the women placed the food in front of him. “I want these bandits dead, Sisuthros.”
“They’re probably already gone, Captain,” Sisuthros answered cautiously. He had heard that tone of voice before and knew what it meant.
“They’ve no reason to hang around here. The place is stripped bare. There isn’t even any more food to be had. And the women…” He shrugged.
Eskkar’s second in command was a sturdy young man of twenty-three seasons, seven seasons younger than his commander, but he had fought his way through the long campaign against the Alur Meriki and had earned the men’s respect. More important, Sisuthros had a good head on his shoulders. Eskkar planned to leave him in charge when they reached their destination farther north, the village of Bisitun.
“They’ll be back,” Eskkar said quietly. “There’re still some vegetables in the fields and they’ll want to take some villagers with them as slaves, either to use or to sell, before they abandon this place. They left here only minutes before we arrived. They didn’t even take any of the women.”
“They seem to know our plans well enough,” Sisuthros said. “They probably guessed we don’t want to stay here. We could leave enough men behind to protect the village, at least for a while.”
“If we leave men behind, we’ll have to leave some horses as well,”
Grond argued. “And we don’t have enough horses as it is.”
A shortage of horseflesh had plagued Eskkar even before the siege of Akkad began.
“Nor do we know how many men to leave behind.” Eskkar took a sip from the wine cup. “If we leave too few, they could be overrun.” He shook his head. “No, I don’t want to waste time and men defending Dilgarth. I want these bandits dead when they return from the east.”
“Why east, Captain?” Grond asked, “Why not north, or south?”
“They can’t cross the river here, not without boats. It’s too wide.
They can’t enter Akkad. Gatus would seize any force of well-mounted and armed men loaded with loot, so they won’t go south. And we’re moving north, so they won’t like having a large force of men following behind them. That leaves east, the land that the barbarians stripped bare. If they’re heading that way, even for a few days, they’ll need to get as much food, loot, and slaves as they can carry.”
Neither man said anything, which merely meant they didn’t see any immediate fl aw in his logic. Eskkar had established certain rules of command, and one of these insisted that his subcommanders speak up freely regarding his plans and ideas. It was another of the many painful lessons Eskkar learned in the last six months-that it was more important to get everyone’s ideas and comments out in the open, rather than have to make all the decisions himself.
“So that means they’re probably watching the place,” Grond said.
“They’ll wait until we move on, make certain we’re gone, then come back, take as many villagers, food, and whatever else they want, and be off.”
“Why couldn’t they have taken what they wanted today?” Sisuthros asked.
“Because they don’t have enough horses for the slaves and goods themselves,” Eskkar answered, glad that he had asked himself the same question. “And they weren’t sure if we would chase after them or not. If they were burdened with slaves and loot, we could have caught up with them easily enough. No, they’ll be back. Some fool even said as much to Nisaba.”
Eskkar looked toward the doorway, making certain the sentry stood in his place before continuing. He didn’t want any villager to overhear his words. Nevertheless he lowered his voice to almost a whisper. “This is what we’ll do.”
Like all of Eskkar’s plans, it seemed simple enough. And like most of his plans, there was plenty that could go wrong. Sisuthros first tried to argue him out of it, then offered to take his place, but Eskkar wouldn’t hear of it.
“I know what you’re saying makes sense, Sisuthros,” Eskkar said, putting an end to the argument. “But I’ll be safe enough. And this is something I want to take care of myself.”
Sisuthros made one more attempt. “Before we left, Lady Trella asked me to make sure you didn’t take any unnecessary chances.” When he saw that even Trella’s name wasn’t going to change his captain’s mind, he changed his tactic. “At least keep Grond here with you. By the gods, Eskkar, they may have more men than you.”
In the old days Eskkar would have raised his voice and demanded obedience. Now he made his voice firm and his words final. “If we do it right, they won’t be expecting trouble, and I’ll have trained men who should easily be able to take care of a dozen or so bandits.”
Grond and Sisuthros both started to protest, but Eskkar held up his hand.
“Enough arguing. Let’s eat in peace,” Eskkar went on, “then we’ll select the men and work out the preparations. When we’re ready, I’ll speak to Nisaba. She and the villagers will have to play their part as well.”
The two subcommanders looked at each other. They had made their arguments and heard his decision. Now the task ahead of them was to make sure their captain succeeded. They nodded their heads in resignation, and each man started thinking about his part of the plan.
