Kushanna looked forward to his return. Perhaps by then, she would have learned all there was to know about Lady Trella. Possibly even enough to have her killed. There was, after all, plenty of poison in the box.
23
Mid-morning had come and gone before Eskkar arrived at the barracks, his long strides forcing his guards to hurry to keep pace. He hated being late, especially over such a petty interruption as the one he had just left behind. A dispute between two traders had escalated into a pushing and shoving match, which brought them before Nicar, in his role as Chief Judge of Akkad. For once, even Nicar’s conciliatory skills had not managed to resolve the issue, and both sides had demanded an appeal before the king.
After three years of settling many foolish disputes, Eskkar had learned to control his temper and keep his patience. Today’s crisis, however, required him to keep from laughing. The two men involved, both prosperous merchants, had practically come to blows over a prospective virgin bride. The girl’s father had somehow managed to offer his daughter in marriage to both belligerents. The man who first received the promise demanded the girl at the original and agreed upon price. The second potential husband had entered the fray soon after, offering more coins for the girl. Naturally, the father had changed his mind as to his choice of suitors.
The men involved caught up with Eskkar just as he departed the compound for the barracks, and insisted on their case being heard right there in the lane. While the two traders exchanged insults and threats, the father demanded his right to sell his daughter to whomever he pleased, and the girl alternated between sobbing at her embarrassment or shrieking at her father. It seemed she preferred the first suitor, but Eskkar couldn’t be sure.
His first thought, which he decided to keep to himself, was that whoever won the girl would be overpaying and getting a poor bargain.
By then the crowd included the families of the two prospective husbands, the father of the girl involved, and a few dozen onlookers as excited as if they were watching a wrestling match. The onlookers voiced their own opinions, calling out one or the other’s name, each faction trying to outshout the other. A few placed bets on the outcome. At last Eskkar made his ruling. The girl was to go to the first suitor, but the father was ordered to pay half the dowry to the second man, because he’d offered something for sale that he didn’t have, a clear violation of the marketplace rules.
Howls arose over the harsh ruling, but Eskkar ignored that. The next time a foolish dispute cropped up, those seeking settlement might remember and accept the Chief Judge’s decision.
By the time everything resolved itself and Eskkar could slip away, the sun had moved high in the sky, and no one appeared satisfied, except perhaps the red-faced virgin and most of the onlookers, who always enjoyed watching someone else’s discomfort. Eskkar’s good mood had vanished into a black cloud of anger that showed itself on his usually calm face.
With Grond at his side, Eskkar entered the training ground and strode to where Gatus sat on his tall stool, taking advantage of a sliver of shade cast by the barracks. On the wall just behind Gatus and his stool, a charcoal outline of a man had been scratched into the mud. A small table stood nearby. Two young men Eskkar didn’t recognize sat in the dirt beside Gatus. A few dozen paces away, half a dozen skinny youths waited with barely suppressed excitement, staring open mouthed at the king of Akkad.
Eskkar caught the look on Gatus’s face, and knew the old soldier was tempted to remark about the lateness of the hour. Gatus resisted the urge, probably only because there were so many young recruits around.
“We were delayed by the Chief Justice, Gatus,” Grond called out as they approached, thereby avoiding Eskkar having to say something that might sound like an apology.
“No matter.” Gatus slid off the stool, and paused a moment to adjust his tunic. “At my age, I need the rest anyway.”
“What have you got for me?” Eskkar asked, aware that his voice sounded harsh. He took a deep breath. No sense taking things out on Gatus and these men, older boys, actually, and probably too young to know what they were getting into.
“I’ve found a few slingers for you.” Gatus nodded his head toward the two young men beside him. They scrambled to their feet as soon as they saw Eskkar. “They’re ready to give you a demonstration.”
Eskkar appraised the two. Both wore ragged clothing, tunics either too small or too large, both patched and worn through in spots. Each had long and wiry arms. Neither man came up to Eskkar’s shoulder in height, and he guessed their age as about fifteen or sixteen seasons, barely enough to be considered a man, even in Akkad.
Gatus stretched his arm and pointed to the closest one. “This is Nivar.”
Nivar had long brown hair tied back with a bit of leather.
“Shappa has fifteen seasons,” Gatus said, gesturing toward the other. “He’s the older, so I’ve put him in charge of Nivar and the others for now. They’re the first of your detachment of slingers, if ever there is such a thing. As for the rest of them,” he jerked his head toward the others standing nearby, “we’ll see.”
Eskkar ignored Gatus’s remark, in part because he knew the old soldier was as interested as Eskkar in learning if slingers could play a part in Akkad’s growing army. Nevertheless, Eskkar had proposed this idea, and he didn’t intend to change his mind now, no matter how foolish it might turn out to be. He studied the two slingers. For a moment, he was reminded of Tammuz, a skinny thief who had disobeyed orders, taken a bow, and killed an Alur Meriki warrior in the first battle to save the city.
Another of Trella’s sayings came to mind. If a thing is worth doing, then do it as well as you can. It was her idea, after all, to make use of Tammuz, and that had worked out well, despite Eskkar’s misgivings.
He walked over to the table and picked up one the slings. Eskkar hadn’t touched one of these since his boyhood, when he’d used one to hunt rabbits and other small game for his mother’s cooking pot. This sling was longer, with a shaped leather pouch at the end of two long strands of flaxen cords. The cords, he noticed, were made of thinner, plaited strands that felt supple to the touch. One end of the cord ended in a small loop, the other in a thick knot. The pouch differed as well. Square-shaped, but fastened at opposite corners, the remaining points faced up and down. It had a hole the thickness of his thumb in the center.
“Well, Nivar and Shappa, I’m glad Gatus found you. Perhaps we can convince old Gatus that slings can be as deadly as an arrow, and even more useful in other ways.”
The boys bowed, and only Shappa managed to mumble a greeting. They were clearly in awe of Eskkar, who towered over them both. In fact, everyone appeared tense, not sure what would be asked of them. He decided to relieve the tension a bit.
“Did I ever tell you, Gatus, about the time I was nearly killed by a slinger?” Eskkar raised his voice so that everyone could hear. “The stone flew right past my ear and splintered against a cliff face.” He didn’t add that it was a woman who’d nearly split his head.
“It would take a dozen stones to dent your head, Eskkar,” Gatus said.
Grond laughed, while the boys standing close enough to hear gaped in shock at the rude jest directed at their king.
“It’s true.” Eskkar ignored the remark. “Then another time, I was on horseback and a… man nearly unhorsed me with a sling.” He’d almost said the word “shepherd”, but decided that it didn’t sound very impressive to admit he’d almost been killed fighting a sheep herder over a band of foul-smelling sheep.
“But you survived,” Gatus said. “So the slinger’s stones didn’t bother you too much.”
“No, but they made me change my tactics, and that’s why I want to see what can be done with these men.” He turned to Shappa. “Show me what you can do.”
Shappa took the sling from Eskkar’s hand, and selected three slightly oval stones about the size of a fat walnut from a pouch at his waist. The boy could scarcely control his excitement. He slipped the middle finger of his right hand into the loop and grasped the knot of the other stand between thumb and forefinger. He dropped a stone into the pouch, and started walking away from the wall.
Everyone moved with him, leaving the wall empty. Two of the boys carried the table well to the side, and Gatus picked up his stool and took it with him.
Shappa stopped about forty paces from the wall, and looked at Gatus.
“Go ahead.” He settled himself on the stool once again.
The slinger turned slightly away from the target, with his left hand closest to the wall. The pouch hung
