Terror — she explained once to answer his question — was merely another way to defend Akkad and keep its enemies off-balance. Both our friends and enemies must know that it will not be used first, she declared, but if provoked, then terror would be employed to punish Akkad’s attackers. Tanukh raids into Akkadian lands must stop, once and for all.
In Hathor’s eyes, Lady Trella was more than just a keen mind. As he soon discovered, she also understood the many ways to use power.
The first six months had been difficult for Hathor. First his wounds had taken longer to heal than expected. When he grew strong enough to hobble about, he encountered many Akkadians who had suffered from Korthac’s short rule, and now only Hathor remained alive to remind them of those unhappy days. But gradually the rancor had faded. As Eskkar trusted Hathor with more and more responsibilities, the populace started to change their minds about the dour Egyptian.
About that time, Trella had summoned him to meet her. When Hathor arrived, he found her speaking with another woman, Cnari, who not long before had lost her husband of eight years. Now in her early twenties, Cnari stood tall and slim as a willow, with fine features, long brown hair, and the slightly darker skin that, like Lady Trella, marked her as being born in the lands of Sumeria.
Trella introduced them, then found a reason to leave the chamber. Cnari appeared nervous, and Hathor realized this was no chance encounter, that Trella must have prepared Cnari for his arrival. For his part, he spoke haltingly, afraid to say much, and certain that his appearance and grim visage would frighten any Akkadian woman. Later he learned that Trella had softened that initial impression by relating to Cnari the story of how Trella first met Eskkar, and the fear and doubts she had experienced that night.
Trella didn’t return to her chamber for some time, and Hathor and Cnari spoke awkwardly about meaningless things. When Trella rejoined them, Cnari took her leave. But before she departed, she favored Hathor with a brief smile that enhanced her fine features. He stared at the doorway, aware for the first time of the scent Cnari used, still lingering in the air.
“What do you think of Cnari?” Trella’s words brought Hathor out of his reverie. “She is a good woman, but she needs a strong man to protect her. And it’s not fit that one of Eskkar’s commanders does not have a woman of his own. I can think of no better man in Akkad for her than you.”
Hathor had not had a woman of his own for almost two years, since he left his family in Egypt to fight with Korthac. He hadn’t thought of them in months, and felt no particular sense of loss at their absence. Here in Akkad, the women turned their eyes from him, remembering the horror Korthac had brought to the city.
“Cnari is… too beautiful, Lady Trella, for a man like me. All the men of Akkad will want her.”
“And that has frightened her. She has no family of her own, no children, no one to guide her, so she came to me for protection and help in finding a new husband.”
Trella had arranged dozens of marriages in the last few years. Her skill at matching men and women had proved as good as everything else she undertook, and men as well as women often sought her guidance.
“You honor me, Lady Trella. But I am not sure… she needs a man with more skills than a mere soldier.”
“Perhaps you should ask Eskkar about that,” Trella said with a smile. “For now, Cnari is living downstairs. If you wish, call on her, speak to her, listen to her. If you find she is not to your choosing, I will try to find you another. There are many women in Akkad who would now look with favor on you. ”
Hathor doubted the truth of that statement. Trella said nothing more about the matter, and when Hathor departed, he decided to avoid Cnari. But at Eskkar’s table that evening, chance seated Cnari beside him. They began to talk, and soon were ignoring the rest of the guests. The next evening, after he completed his duties, Hathor took a long swim in the river. Then he called on her, and they sat in Trella’s garden at the back of the house, talking long into the night.
Just as much as the day Trella spared his life, that evening changed his fortune once again. When Hathor returned to his quarters, all he could think about was Cnari, her hair, her eyes, the hand she placed on his arm for a fleeting moment while they spoke. A few days later, they went to Lady Trella and asked to be wed in the temple of Ishtar.
That had been over a year ago, and now she had become part of his life. She had clung to him the morning the army marched to war, tears streaming down her cheeks, and he could scarcely free himself from her grasp.
No woman had ever cried over him before, and to his surprise, Hathor had had to bite back his own tears. Cnari was heavy with her first child, would probably give birth while he was fighting in Sumeria. But for the gift of Cnari’s love that Trella had given him, to both of them, Hathor would fight a dozen battles for her and Lord Eskkar.
Tonight he put aside his thoughts of Cnari and the child that was to come. No matter what happened, he would have a son to carry on his line, or at least a daughter to hold his memory. Now was the time to make war, to destroy Akkad’s enemies, and to ensure that no danger ever threatened either Trella or Cnari and her child again.
In the morning, Hathor mounted and led the men south. They left the smoking remains of Margan behind them, fit only for the flies and scavengers already boldly foraging for food among its dead.
53
Two days later, Hathor and his men swept down on the next Tanukh village in their path. They had ridden hard, pushing the horses as much as they dared, and hoping to outrun any news of their approach. Tibra, the next Tanukh encampment, was much larger than Margan. Situated beside a fair-sized oasis bordered with willow and palm trees, over two hundred tents ringed the glistening, green-encircled waterhole. Tibra also boasted several fields irrigated by channels dug out of the sand. Slaves had done the digging, Hathor knew, from hearing Muta’s tales. Such labor was beneath a Tanukh’s dignity.
The camp lay in the center of a wide basin, with no way to draw near without being seen.
“This is the village where I was enslaved.” Muta’s harsh words sounded different from his usual tone. “My brother died here.”
“Then today you will take your revenge for your brother.” Hathor gave the order to advance. The Akkadians formed a wide line of riders, and cantered toward the Tanukh village, his men readying their weapons. “Just don’t get yourself killed taking your revenge,” Hathor shouted over the drumming hooves to Muta. “We need you alive.”
Muta’s parents had been killed, and he and his brother taken as slaves, brutalized and beaten almost every day. For five years he and the other slaves had carried supplies from one Tanukh village to another, mere beasts of burden treated worse than the weakest pack animal by the ever-grasping Tanukh traders. His brother had died under the overseer’s lash, after falling sick from hunger and exhaustion. The desert had as little pity on the slaves as did their Tanukh masters. One day Muta was sold to a Sumerian trader who needed extra slaves to carry his goods.
A year later, Muta was left for dead after he collapsed from exhaustion under his burden. Certain of his property’s demise, Muta’s latest master hadn’t even bothered to cut Muta’s throat or give him the hammer stroke to the temple. But Muta recovered, and somehow made his way to Orak, arriving a few months before the great siege. Eskkar and Gatus, desperate for men to defend the village, cared nothing about Muta’s past life as a slave. They needed strong and willing men to fight the barbarians, and so, for the first time in his life, Muta learned the trade of war. Trained as an archer, he fought on the wall against all the Alur Meriki attacks.
Two years later, after King Eskkar defeated King Eridu in the first Sumerian war, Gatus had sent Muta to meet with Hathor. That foresight now benefited Hathor. Muta had not only lived in those lands, but had labored on caravans moving from village to village. He had walked most of the desert trails and knew the location of watering holes.
Hathor’s horsemen shifted to a gallop and widened their front. The orderly formations used for traveling and training vanished, replaced by the need to get as many horsemen into the Tanukh camp as fast as possible. No need for silence or stealth. No force of this size could be anything but the enemy of the Tanukhs.
Nevertheless, Hathor had hoped to overwhelm Tibra before any could escape. But before his men had closed
