‘But then I was sent to the north coast, to a city called Lazawa.’ A place Milaqa had never heard of. ‘There had been a rebellion, raids by the Kaskans — a mess. I was one of a party sent to gather facts on how the country was recovering now that the rebellion was put down, or so the governor had told the King. This report would be brought back to the court.
‘So we went out into the country. We had a corps of the Standing Army of the Left to accompany us, under an overseer who reported to the King’s own brother. I felt safe.
‘We had a great deal of trouble on the way, but we reached Lazawa. And there we found that everything we had been told about the outcome of the rebellion was an utter lie. The town was a smoking ruin, the grain stores looted, the people driven off or enslaved by the Kaskans. There was not even food for us. Not even for our horses!
‘And it was as we considered what we should do that the Spider fell on us…’
The Spider had been a regional governor, a ‘Lord of the Watchtower’ as the Hatti called it. As the years of drought wore on, the commands from the centre had grown sporadic and contradictory, and the cycle of supply and troop replenishment slowly broke down. Then the fire-mountain clouds closed in, and people started to starve, and the man had gone rogue altogether.
‘I do not know his name,’ Kurunta whispered. ‘He wears the uniform of the army, the chariots are as the army ride, but he has painted or dyed everything black, so that all will know it is he who descends, his sword that flashes — his laugh you hear when you die…’
‘And he descended on you,’ Kilushepa prompted.
‘Yes. Our troops fell, or fled, or defected on the spot. We scribes and our servants were playthings for the Spider and his soldiers. You can imagine what happened to the women, and the younger boys. Not one of them survived the first night. The rest of us were used for — amusement. One man was let loose, naked, and hunted like an animal. Practice for the archers, the charioteers. I knew him. He told good jokes. Another, who fought back, was tied to a post. They rode at him on their horses taking swipes with their swords, until nothing was left of him. And so on. I had never fought, but you can see I am a bulky man, Tawananna. They put me in a kind of arena of spears and ropes, with two others, and made us fight. Only one of the three would live to leave that ring. I had not struck another human being since I was a child.’
‘Yet you survived,’ Kilushepa murmured.
‘I survived. The Spider told me that if I fought with him, with his troops, he would let me live. And I did,’ he whispered. ‘I did, Queen! And I have committed terrible crimes, or watched them. All to save my own skin.’
‘It is nothing to be ashamed of. You see how it is,’ she said to the others. ‘The times we live in. And all this has come to pass under the nominal protection of the Hatti, still the greatest empire in the world. This is why we must work together, Annid. Lest the darkness fall over the whole world, for good.’
‘I was educated,’ said Kurunta. ‘I was a scribe. The Spider has told me that that time has gone. That nobody will ever write or read again, as long as the world lasts, and that soon people will even forget that such a thing was possible. Even my sons, who I have not seen since I left Hattusa. Is it true, Tawananna? Is this the end of it all? Is it true?’
She took the bloody stumps of his arms in her hands. ‘Not if I can help it.’
He subsided, muttering, turning his eyeless head as if looking for the light.
They came upon the camp of the Spider late the following day. It was visible from far off as a smudge of smoke on the southern horizon. It looked to Milaqa like the most substantial settlement they had seen since Troy itself.
Yet when they approached, it was not a town at all.
The centrepiece was another watchtower, guarding another road. On the plain around this tower bonfires burned, sending columns of smoke up to the sky, and there were tents and shacks of timber and reeds. Male laughter carried on the breeze, and a clang of metal, sword on sword.
‘This is the place,’ Kilushepa murmured, as she clambered down from her cart. Kurunta was sleeping now. ‘Just as our mutilated clerk described it.’
‘I will go in alone,’ said Qirum. ‘We mustn’t challenge them.’
‘That’s foolish,’ Deri snapped, in the broken Hatti he had learned. ‘Let me go with you, at least. Tibo is my son.’
‘No.’ Qirum dug into the heap of stuff on the cart, found his bronze breastplate, and with quick fingers tied it in place. ‘I know these people, remember — men like the Spider.’
‘Because you are one yourself,’ said Kilushepa with a faint sneer.
Qirum grinned coldly and said nothing. He set his ox-horn helmet on his head, fixed his sword in its scabbard on his back, and strode out towards the camp, heading straight for the watchtower at its heart.
Those left behind started to make a camp of their own. The men built a fire. Deri paced, as tense as a clenched fist. Kilushepa waited, silent and still. Milaqa thought it was quite likely the Spider already knew all about this petty force of Qirum’s. She imagined some armed man’s calculating gaze on her even now, and she tried not to shudder.
The light was fading by the time Qirum returned. He sat by the fire, and took a cup of wine from one of his warriors.
‘He will talk to us,’ he said. ‘The Spider. I was only able to negotiate with him through his generals, his closest circle. The Spider is sharper than I imagined. I had to give away a lot.’
Deri frowned. ‘A lot of what? Gold?’
‘Information. I was getting nowhere. He was intrigued when I told him the Tawananna was here.’ He smiled spitefully at Kilushepa. ‘Although he asked, which Tawananna.’
‘And the boy — what of him?’
‘The Spider himself may not know. I got the impression he takes many prisoners, for many purposes. He will speak to us, however.’
Deri said, ‘Us?’
‘The Tawananna,’ said Qirum. ‘He was a governor, remember. I think it flatters his vanity to have one of the court come to his camp. And he will speak to a relative of the boy.’
‘I will go,’ said Deri.
‘No,’ Qirum said. ‘No men. A woman. It must be a woman.’ And he looked at Milaqa.
Deri shook his head. ‘It isn’t safe.’
‘He’s right,’ Teel said. Suddenly he and Deri were Milaqa’s uncles, looking out for the safety of their niece.
But she said, ‘I will go.’
Qirum nodded. ‘He will not harm you. Well, I don’t believe so. If he intended to, he could have set his warriors on us already. He is more curious than aggressive. I think he seeks — amusement.’
Kilushepa stood. ‘More practically, this Spider is the only authority in the area just now, isn’t he?’
Teel frowned. ‘What exactly are you planning, Tawananna?’
She would not reply.
Qirum swilled another mouthful of wine, hurried behind a rocky outcrop to take a quick piss, and then returned, rubbing his hands. ‘Are you ready?’
Qirum led them back the way he had come.
As the Trojan walked boldly through the camp, the Spider’s warriors watched them pass. They were Hatti warriors, Milaqa saw, or a semblance of them. They were relaxing, and many had their boots off, their black-dyed tunics loosened, their long hair worn loose rather than plaited. They sat around the fires, worked at their weapons with sharpening stones, rubbed their feet with bits of rough rock. There were neat heaps of spears, leather helmets, shields of leather and wood. Subdued-looking women, many very young, prepared food and brought the men drink. Milaqa was selfishly glad they were here. She would not have liked to have been the only woman in the camp.
As they neared the watchtower they saw stranger sights. In a cage of wood and rope a group of women, girls and boys sat in the dirt, many naked, waiting in silence. A few warriors were gathered around another cage, laughing and shouting, gambling with bits of gold and precious stone, goading the cage’s occupants with shouts and waved fists. Milaqa got close enough to glimpse what was going on inside the cage: two men, both naked, both without feet, their legs crudely wrapped in bloody cloth, were crawling in the dirt, dragging their bodies, trying to
