He remembered the gossip about Ariamus and Annok-sur; he’d forgotten about it until now. Eskkar realized the anger that must still burn inside the man’s heart.
“At least keep your forces together, Eskkar,” Rebba pleaded. “Splitting them up will…”
“No, Rebba. What’s important is to get inside Akkad.” Eskkar spoke with certainty. “If we stay together, and can’t get in, then we’ve failed. This way, even if only half of us succeed, we can rouse the city. Besides, you say that Korthac’s men are scattered all over Akkad. The more places we attack, the greater their confusion.”
And gives me the best chance to rescue Trella. Eskkar had made that decision on the river, too. If he could get her out safely, he didn’t care if the rest of the attack failed. The people of Akkad could live with the demon Korthac for all he cared.
Silence settled over the table. Either none of Eskkar’s commanders found fault with his plan, or they just wanted to get on with the fight.
“Then I will go with you,” Rebba said, the sound of resignation in his voice. “No matter what happens, I’m committed. If you fail, I will be killed and my estates confiscated. So I’ll walk the streets, to rally the people behind you, even as you fight Korthac’s soldiers. The people will recognize me, and many will heed my words, when I tell them Eskkar has returned to free them.”
Eskkar understood Rebba’s situation. If Eskkar failed, Korthac would learn of Rebba’s involvement. They would all risk their lives tonight. He looked about the table, but no one said anything further.
“Tell your men to kill the Egyptian soldiers first,” Eskkar said, picking his words carefully. “The rest of the rabble will break. Make sure our soldiers shout their heads off. Let your battle cry be ‘Let None Escape.’
That will strike fear into the hearts of these bandits.”
“We need another one,” Klexor offered. “ ‘Eskkar has returned.’ I think that will rouse the people.”
Eskkar nodded his approval. “Good. Two battle cries will make us sound even stronger.”
The night was slipping by, and the time for words had passed. “Then let us begin. We still have things to prepare, and I don’t want our enemies enjoying too much sleep before we awaken them.”
21
Korthac woke a few hours after he’d finished taking his pleasure with the young girl, who still lay in a heap on the floor, her legs streaked with blood. He’d told her not to move, and enjoyed the satisfaction of seeing she’d learned obedience.
Too young for the love act, she had sobbed at the pain. He’d enjoyed that, too, watching the fright in her eyes that terrorized her as much as the suffering. For the last four nights he’d taken a fresh young bedmate, alternating between sexes, enjoying at last the opportunity to satisfy himself without restraint. Not that Korthac ever felt driven by such basic needs, as most men were. He’d spent months in the desert without companionship of any kind, and considered it only a minor inconvenience. Nevertheless, now that he had all of Akkad at his feet and eager to please him, he intended to make up for being deprived.
When he grew bored with the young children of the nobles and richer traders, he would start with their daughters and wives, keeping a half-dozen or so on hand as concubines until they became pregnant. When that happened, he would send them home to their families and watch their faces as they reared his children. Korthac determined to fill the city with his offspring, so that, in the years to come, everyone could see the power of his conquest.
Tonight’s diversion had been less than satisfying. The room he’d taken on the lower floor of Eskkar’s house two days ago had no door, just a heavy curtain for privacy. In another day or so, he would move into the upper rooms and banish Trella to this humble chamber. She would sleep on the floor, sharing a blanket with her servant Annok-sur. After a few days, Trella would have the blanket for herself; Korthac planned to hand over Annok-sur to his men before putting her to the torture.
He had let Trella keep her quarters, more as a gesture to the people than out of any concern for her comfort. Korthac knew that many in Akkad felt compassion for Trella. His men controlled the city, but there was no reason to give its inhabitants something else to complain about, at least not for another few days.
Though tonight, Korthac felt tempted to order Trella out. Earlier in the day, he’d visited her again, and decided her eyes still showed traces of disrespect. He’d slapped her hard a few times, until real pain showed in her face and blood flowed from her mouth. When she assumed a properly ser-vile manner, he ran his finger through her hair, enjoying the fear that she could no longer conceal. On her knees and in tears, she’d scarcely crawled back to her room when her labor began.
Since then, through the evening meal and continuing long into the night, servants had crept past Korthac’s room, moving up and down the stairs to her quarters. Even now her muffled groans echoed throughout the house, diluting his pleasure and upsetting his sleep. He’d be glad when she dropped the babe, or died in the delivery.
Not that he wanted her to die. He planned to keep her beside him, to show the city’s inhabitants that he possessed complete control over their lives. Perhaps he wouldn’t need her for much longer. Since he’d seized power three days ago, his men had killed more than a hundred people, and the brutal lessons appeared to be working. The last two nights had seen Akkad quiet down.
Anyone who protested, anyone who failed to show proper respect, anyone who failed to yield to his men as they walked the street, all met the same fate: torture and death in the city’s marketplace. The people of Akkad had taken the first step to their proper place in his world-on their knees and at his feet.
As for Trella, he would wait until she became fit to bed. He wanted to enjoy the look in her eyes when he took her. Her child would be the means to keep her respectful, and he intended to turn her into the most obedient and pleasure-giving slave in the city. Yes, that would satisfy him for some time, perhaps even a few months. When he grew tired of Trella, she would pleasure every one of his men. Only then would he toss the child into the flames, in front of her.
Unable to sleep, Korthac rose from his bed as he contemplated that pleasant future. He often went through days when he found it difficult to sleep at night, and had learned not to fight against it. Better to just get up and walk around.
Another muffled moan from upstairs recalled Trella to his thoughts.
As soon as she gave birth, he’d move her out of her quarters and into this room. Then, at last, he would have privacy and a quiet place to sleep at night. Korthac had examined all of the larger residences in Akkad, and Eskkar’s home came closest to his ideal. It would do for a few months, until his new slaves built him a much grander residence.
He frowned at the faint voices drifting down from above. The lamp burned low, and he ordered the guard standing just outside his door to refill it. Fully awake, Korthac pulled on his tunic and belted the sword around his waist. The guard returned with more oil, and the room brightened again.
Korthac, wide awake now, noticed the forgotten child still staring at him from the floor, her tear-streaked face showing both fear and pain. “Go home,” he ordered. “Tell your family that you failed to please me.” That would bring terror to her parents, who would wonder what horror would befall them next.
He went outside, taking a deep breath of the fresh night air. His room had only a small aperture high in the wall for ventilation, and its air easily grew stale. A glance at the heavens told him midnight had already passed.
Korthac walked around the compound, checking the guards at the courtyard gate, and stopping at the soldiers’ quarters to make sure they stood ready.
Not that he expected trouble. After the bloodbath of the first day, he had crushed every look or word of opposition. His men executed two entire families, dragging them to the marketplace so that all could witness his power. One man dared to protest the new tax, and the other had struck one of his Egyptians. Korthac determined to kill any that failed to show respect.
Meanwhile his followers grew more numerous with each day, paid for with the tax he demanded from the nobles. Most of his newest followers appeared little better than rabble. Once again he wished for another hundred of his Egyptian fighters. Not that it mattered. He had enough men, and Ariamus continued to gather more. In three or four weeks, all in Akkad would have forgotten all about their previous lives.
Feeling refreshed by the night air, Korthac sat at the big table in the garden, glancing up at the starry sky. A
