“Or assassins,” Annok-sur said. “Bantor, or even Trella could be their target.”
Trella frowned. “And you think one of those who arrived yesterday is the leader?”
“Yes, the others seem to defer to him. Jovarik is his name, and he’s also a little older. No one knows if this is his first visit to Akkad. We followed him around today. He walked all over the city, and spent some time near each of the gates.”
“If the others, who have been here longer,” Trella said, “have also learned what they want about the gates and its guards, Jovarik may not need to see much more.”
“We could bring in the innkeeper,” Annok-sur said. “He might be able to tell us more about them.”
“No, if he’s in league with them, they would be warned. And we’ve nothing from Martana or the other prostitutes?”
“No, nothing,” Uvela said. “Martana serviced two of them this afternoon, but always with one or two of the others watching. They said nothing, except that they’re in Akkad seeking work. Last night four of them took another girl back to the house, but even after pleasuring all of them, she heard nothing suspicious. They say little when anyone is nearby, it seems.”
“We need to overhear their conversations,” Annok-sur suggested. “Perhaps one of your girls can get close enough without being seen.”
“No, I don’t think so,” Uvela said, after pausing a few moments to consider the possibility. “Those staying at the Spotted Owl say little, and the ones living in the house would be suspicious if they thought someone was trying to spy on them. They always keep someone at the door and they even watch the smoke hole every so often.”
“Perhaps we should just have Bantor’s men take them into custody,” Annok-sur said. “Some time with the torturers would tell us what we want to know.”
“Eskkar and the soldiers have been gone for five days,” Trella said. “And we know that enemy horsemen are approaching the city from the east. Those marauders must have some plan in mind, some way they think they can get into the city.”
“Unless they just want to raid the countryside.” Uvela hitched her stool a bit closer. “That’s happened many times in the past.”
“No, I don’t think so,” Trella said. “The war with Sumeria started suddenly. We had no hint of the threat. How is it then that the barbarians arrive on our doorstep at the same time? That seems too much of a coincidence.”
“Then we should have these strangers arrested, brought before Bantor’s questioners. That’s what Eskkar would do.”
“Yes, that would be his first reaction,” Trella agreed. “But that wouldn’t stop the horsemen from raiding our lands, and they might devastate the countryside, destroy all our crops. If Eskkar remains in the south more than a few weeks, there might be nothing left when he returns.”
Neither Annok-sur nor Uvela said anything. Eskkar and the army might never return, or if they did, they might arrive on the run, a broken force, with the Sumerian hounds right behind them.
Trella read their silence. Such thoughts, while never voiced, were no doubt often on the minds of those who knew the true situation. “I want to know what these men are planning. We need to get someone close to them, someone who can hear their words.”
“Any women in the inn would attract attention,” Uvela said. “Others like Martana would likely learn nothing.”
“I agree,” Trella said. “I think there may be another way. Send for Wakannh. He’s good at finding people.”
F rom the shadows Wakannh studied the small tavern up the lane. Not really much of a tavern, more like a hovel whose owner sold some overpriced and watered-down ale in the evenings to half a dozen drunks and thieves. Not that there was much to see, just a dim outline of a low doorway.
“Is that the place? What would someone at the Compound want with any of that rabble?”
“Shut your face,” Wakannh said. As a leader of ten in Akkad’s guard, he commanded this little group of four men tonight. Annok-sur had given him the information that the thief Sargat might be found within the tavern, but Wakannh didn’t intend to share Annok-sur’s name with any of his men, let alone a recruit of less than a hundred days.
“Sargat is one of the quickest thieves in Akkad,” Wakannh said. “So here’s what we’ll do. I’ll go in the front. You two go around to the next lane. There’s probably a secret way out to the back. And you
…” he grabbed the talkative recruit by the shoulder, “look agile enough. You get up on the roof. If Sargat tries to get away, make sure you stop him. And so help me, if you make a sound up there and give us away, you’ll be digging latrines for the rest of your miserable life.”
“Yes, commander,” the recruit said, fingering his sword in the darkness. “I’ll be quiet.”
“Better give me your sword,” Wakannh said. “It will only get in your way on the roof. And I want Sargat alive, remember that, all of you. The folks in the Compound can’t talk to a dead man. Now get going, all of you.”
Regretfully, the recruit handed over his sword. His leader of ten always seemed to take particular satisfaction in picking on him.
Wakannh waited while his men moved into position. He couldn’t see them in the next lane, but they were veterans who would do what they were ordered, without asking stupid questions or trying to do any thinking on their own. When he saw a darker shadow appear and disappear on the rooftop, Wakannh started down the lane.
At the entrance, the smell of fresh urine greeted his nose, even stronger than the usual night odors to be expected. A greasy blanket hanging at an angle half-covered the doorway. A fire burned inside, its light leaking out from around the edge of the door covering.
He pushed it aside, ducked under the door stile, and took a quick glance around the room. A single candle burned, adding its flickering light to that of the fire. A quick count showed eight men within, all of whom looked up as he entered. The sight of one of Akkad’s guards stopped all conversations. Annok-sur had described Sargat, so Wakannh’s eyes searched the little gathering, soon eliminating all but two of the group.
“I want to talk to Sargat. Which one — ?”
The figure farthest away from the doorway burst into motion. Before Wakannh could react, Sargat had sprung to his feet. Two quick steps and he launched himself at the ladder that led to the roof, his foot landing unerringly on the third tread before the slow-reacting Wakannh started moving. Sargat’s legs had almost disappeared up the ladder before the ceiling shook and rattled. The thief’s body came tumbling down, to crash onto the earthen floor with a thud.
To Wakannh’s astonishment, the fall hardly slowed the man down. Sargat twisted to one side and leapt to his feet, but by then Wakannh had barreled his way through the patrons, knocking two men aside. He shot out his hand, caught Sargat by the hair, and jerked him back with all the strength of his bowman’s arm.
This time the thief landed flat on his back, and Wakannh planted a knee on Sargat’s chest and the tip of his sword on his neck. “Going somewhere?” With a quick flip of his wrist, the sword’s pommel struck down on Sargat’s forehead, stunning the man. “I don’t think so, scum.”
“I got him good, didn’t I, commander?” The recruit had swung down from the roof and now stood beside his commander.
Wakannh opened his mouth to bark at the recruit, but changed his mind instead. If Sargat could move that fast, he might have slipped past a less alert guard, even one waiting on the roof. “Yes, you did, for once. Good job. Now go get the others.”
Within moments, the four guardsmen had Sargat’s hands bound behind his back, and his legs hobbled together, so that he wouldn’t try running away. Wakannh didn’t intend to take any chances with someone who moved that fast.
“Where are you taking me?” Sargat had regained his wits quick enough.
“To the Compound. And if you open your mouth again, I’ll deliver you with your balls cut off and shoved down your throat.” He turned to the still smiling recruit, busy massaging his right fist. “Put a sack over his head. The less he sees and hears, the better.”
