Battle For Empire (The Eskkar Saga) Page 4

  As ordered, she had lit four of their thickest candles, a huge extravagance, but one that almost banished the night. Eskkar wanted plenty of light while he studied the features of his visitor.

  “Close the door,” Eskkar said to serving girl, as she scurried from the room after darting a curious glance at the hooded stranger. Eskkar moved behind the table and sat, the sword close to his right hand.

  Bracca entered the workroom and glanced around, noticing the two doors. One led to Eskkar and Trella’s bedroom and the other to the Map Room.

  “We’re alone up here, Bracca,” Eskkar said. “And I’ve ordered the guards to remain downstairs. So you can speak without worrying about anyone overhearing your words.”

  Bracca took one last look around the room. Another table across the room, a handful of chairs, stools, and a bench. Two chests, covered with brightly colored blankets, completed the simple furnishings.

  “Nothing very fancy. Not what I expected for the King of Akkad. Still, you’ve done very well for yourself, Eskkar.” He pushed the cloak back away from his face. “Better than I ever thought you could do.”

  “It serves me well enough.” Eskkar saw more than a sprinkle of silver in the man’s once black-as-night hair, though Bracca was about the same age as Eskkar, both in their mid-forties. Eskkar’s hair still retained the dark brown color of his youth, except where his temples had started to gray. Old age, the curse of every man, approached. Already he could feel the first hint of it in his bones. “I was lucky a few times, Bracca.”

  Bracca moved to the table and slipped into the chair opposite his host. “Nice sword.” He gestured toward the weapon. “Mind if I try it?”

  “Only if you want your hand cut off,” Eskkar said pleasantly. “There’s wine and ale, food if you’re hungry.”

  “A cup of ale would be good,” Bracca said. He selected the ale pitcher, filled his cup halfway, then paused to examine the cup. “Nice carving on these, but I doubt if you picked them out yourself. You never had an eye for such things.”

  He raised the cup up in a gesture of thanks. “Well, to an old friend, and to King Eskkar of Akkad. You’ve done very well indeed.” He took a few swallows, then sighed. “Good brew. Don’t get anything near as good in the east.”

  Eskkar watched his old friend’s movements. Shorter than most men, and quick as a cat in the old days, Bracca still appeared to carry plenty of hard muscle on his frame, though the loose fitting tunic concealed most of his strength. Even so, the man’s arms looked as strong as ever. Many a dead man had underestimated Bracca’s toughness and quickness with sword or knife.

  “You look fit and as ready for a fight as ever.” Bracca had observed the movement of Eskkar’s eyes. “Though it seems strange not to see that long sword sticking up from your shoulder. We surprised a lot of enemies in our wanderings. We were both quicker than we looked. I never understood how you could draw that blade so fast.”

  The two companions had always presented an odd contrast. Bracca, short, dark, and quick, had provided the perfect compliment to Eskkar’s height, powerful frame, and long arms. And just as in the old days, the man seemed to read Eskkar’s thoughts. He would have to take care not to reveal too much. “So you’ve been to the Indus. Are you still working for Aram-Kitchu?”

  “Ah, well, there’s a long story. Yes and no, I suppose. Aram-Kitchu is dead. Not long after we forded the Indus, he took a bandit’s arrow in the back and died soon after. Half the caravan died that day, too. Before he passed on, Aram asked me to continue the venture and return the wealth to his family. One thing led to another, and by the time I reached Sumer, almost a year had passed, and I had become Aram-Kitchu.”

  Eskkar smiled, as much at Bracca’s story telling skills as at the story. “That seems convenient.”

  Bracca laughed, the familiar quick burst that always came easily to the man. “Yes, I suppose it was. But as I was carrying a fat bag of gold, his widow accepted me into her household. Since she didn’t enjoy the prospect of finding a new husband, soon she and I were wed. We decided I should take on Aram-Kitchu’s name. It seemed easier that way to keep the trading ventures going.”

  “So you became wealthy and respectable at the same time?”

  “As respectable as Aram-Kitchu or any greedy trader could ever be. He’d also taken three wives in the land of the Indus, so now I’ve a good-sized family there, too. In fact, I own two large estates in that land, along with a few hundred slaves and servants.”

  “I’m glad to hear you’ve plenty of gold.” Eskkar poured himself a small cup of ale and laced it with water. “I gave orders to double the guard on the coin storeroom as soon as I learned it was you.”

  Bracca laughed again. “We did steal quite a few purses, didn’t we? Still, I’m glad to see you survived your wounds and found those coins. Enough of us died to earn them, as I recall. But all in the past, that. Now you’re the mighty King Eskkar, revered by his people and ruler of the greatest city in the west.”

  “You missed a few good fights,” Eskkar said. “I could have used your help once or twice.”

  “If I’d stayed, then I’d be the King of Akkad, and you’d be working for me training horse fighters.” Bracca smiled at the idea. “But as it is, I’ve come to save your worthless life once again.”

  “Who wants to kill me this time?”

  “Not you in particular. It’s just that the ruler of the Elamites wants to conquer Akkad and add it to his empire. He hungers for the caravans full of tribute he’ll expect delivered each year.”

  “Elamites?” Eskkar frowned. “Who are the Elamites?”

  Bracca shook his head in feigned disappointment. “You see what I mean? You don’t even know your peril. A vast army marches toward you, and you’ve never heard of them.”

  “Enlighten me, then, friend Bracca.”

  “The Elamites are a warrior race far to the east. For twenty years, they have fought and conquered every city and nation in the land of the Indus. Now their eye has turned toward the west. Already they are planning their first steps toward the Land Between the Rivers. In two years, perhaps a little more, they will be here, knocking at your gates.”

  “Ah, then at least I can sleep well tonight.”

  “Sleep lightly, my old friend. The Elamites are a dangerous enemy, and they have a long reach. They prefer to kill their enemies’ leaders well before their armies arrive. Well before they invade, they target those wise and strong enough to resist them. Poison, assassins, treachery, betrayal, the Elamites are masters of all of these. The weak and foolish they leave alive and in power. Until they’re ready to crush them.”

  “And how is it, friend Bracca, that you know so much about these Elamites?”

  “Oh, did I forget to mention that I am in their pay? Very well paid, I might add. I gather knowledge for them, especially from the Land Between the Rivers. The more they know about Akkad and its allies, the easier it will be to conquer the city. When the time comes, I’ll be one of those dispatching assassins to eliminate any who still stand in their way.”

  “And that would be me?”

  “Well, not only you.” Bracca took another sip from his cup. “In Akkad I suppose Trella would be their first target. Her reputation is well known. In Isin, it would be King Naxos. Of course, it might be easier to turn him against Akkad. The Elamites always try to sow distrust among those they are preparing to attack. A good tactic, that.”

  He shrugged. “Their plans will be decided when they are ready to move against you.”

  King Naxos of Isin ruled his city state with a strong hand, but every powerful man posed a potential threat to Akkad’s rule. Which was why Annok-sur kept so many spies in Isin.

  “What of your own cities to the south, Bracca? Is Sumer and the rest of Sumeria to be spared this invasion?”

  “Alas, no.” Bracca’s voice held a hint of sadness. “The southern cities must also be brought under Elamite rule. Only the entire wealth of the Land Between the Rivers would be enoug
h to justify the war and satisfy King Shirudukh.”

  Eskkar had never heard of this King Shirudukh. “And that would be bad for your trading ventures.” Eskkar grunted in disgust.

  If any of this were true, he should probably kill Bracca tonight. Eskkar had only to raise his voice, and the four guards now waiting on the lower landing would burst into the room, swords in hand.

  The idea tempted Eskkar. After all, many years had passed, and he owed the man nothing. A day or two in the torture pit would make Bracca reveal everything he knew. Besides, a spy was always a danger, and someone as clever as Bracca would make the best and most dangerous spy of all.

  “So why are you telling me all this, Bracca? Especially since you’ll be one of those plotting against me.”

  “Ah, I have my reasons.” Bracca leaned back in his chair and made himself more comfortable. “For one, you saved my life, and more than once. For another, I never felt good about leaving you here. I was certain you were going to die, but I suppose I should have stayed with you to the end. It’s what you and your foolish barbarian code of honor would have done, if our situations were reversed. But Aram-Kitchu was leaving, and I had only a moment to choose. It was five years before I learned you were alive. Still, if you had died like you were supposed to, my only regret would be leaving behind those five silver coins.”

  Eskkar remembered the sadness that had come over him when he awoke from his fever and delirium to discover that Bracca had indeed gone. “We did save each other’s life a few times. But things worked out well enough.”

  “Yes, and I’m glad for you. But I wouldn’t have come upriver and risked getting my throat cut just for that. There’s something else I should have told you, wanted to tell you long ago. Do you remember the fight at Marcala?”

  Eskkar thought for a moment, but the name evoked no memory. “Marcala? No, not really. Where was it?”

  “The gold mine in Sumeria. We rescued the slave from the mine for his mother, and stole the Village Elder’s gold.”

  “I remember . . . the time the madness came over you. You killed the slave master, the one twice your size. I really thought he would take you down.”

  “Dargo, his name was. Yes, the battle rage was upon me that night.” Bracca scratched at his chin. “Not important now. But that fight . . . I should have died that day. I’d brought death down upon us all. There was no reason for you to stay and fight beside me. That’s why I told you to go, expected you to go. You shouldn’t have stayed.”

  “Perhaps I was foolish.” Eskkar drummed his fingers on the table, his hand almost brushing the hilt of the sword. “But what does it matter now? I’m sure you didn’t come all the way to Akkad just to thank me for saving your miserable life on one particular day.”

  “Well, of all the fights we were in together, that’s the one I can’t forget. So, yes, I did come to warn you because of what you did that day. I don’t expect you to understand why.” Bracca paused to take another sip of ale. “That, and maybe because I don’t like the idea of the Elamites just marching in and crushing the cities of Sumeria. I was born there, you know. And I’ve seen what they do to a conquered city. Even worse than what you did to Larsa.”

  Eskkar grunted. In the Sumerian War, he had reduced the city of Larsa to a pile of rubble. Even today, no one lived there. That single act of retribution and terror still gave pause to anyone thinking about attacking Akkad. “Whatever your reasons, I thank you for the warning. But why the secrecy?”

  “Because even among my own men, the Elamites have other spies who watch my doings. They trust me, I’m sure of that, but they take no chances with anyone not born into their ruling clan. Tonight, I had to wait until all the others were busy with their own pleasures before I could slip away. As it is, I must return to my inn soon enough. My vessel’s cargo is sold, and tomorrow we take ship for Sumer.”

  “I’m sorry you have to go.” Eskkar meant the words. Despite Bracca’s gloomy forewarning, Eskkar sensed that his old friend would have liked to spend some time talking about the past, like old comrades who have fought side by side. Eskkar would have, too.

  Bracca nodded. “It can’t be helped. But before I go, I’d like to speak with your wife, Trella.”

  Eskkar’s frown returned. “So you can learn more about her, if you need to send assassins?” His fingers reached out and caressed the sword’s hilt.

  “Always the suspicious barbarian.” Bracca shook his head. “No, so that she can hear my words herself. As I said, I’ve learned much about her. Some men say she rules Akkad as much as you.”

  Or with even greater authority than the King, according to more than a few of those rumors. Eskkar studied his visitor. Well, why not? She would want to know what had been discussed. Besides, she was already the most guarded person in Akkad. And after tonight, that protection would increase.

  Eskkar rose, picking up the sword as he stood. Bracca’s eyes widened when Eskkar lifted the blade, but Bracca made no move and showed no fear. Eskkar turned his back to the table and replaced the blade into its scabbard, still hanging on the wall. “I’ll summon her.” Walking around the table, Eskkar went to the door, pulled it open, and stepped onto the landing.

  Four Hawk Clan guards, one of whom carried a strung bow in his hand, looked up anxiously from the lower landing when he appeared. With his left hand, Eskkar gave the signal that all was well, though none of the guards bothered to relax. In the chamber below, Trella sat on a bench, her head almost touching that of Annok-sur. Both raised their eyes to Eskkar.

  “Trella, will you please join us.”

  Without waiting, Eskkar returned to the table and again took his seat. Bracca hadn’t moved, and he still held his ale cup in both hands.

  A moment later, one of the guards pushed the half-open door aside, glanced inside the chamber, then stepped back to allow Trella to enter. She swept into the room, moving with purpose until she reached the end of the table. As if by chance, she took the one place at the table where her body would not block the light from any of the candles. She, too, wanted to observe their visitor’s face.

  “Yes, Husband?”

  “This is my old friend and companion, Bracca.” Eskkar kept his eyes on his guest, to see what reactions Trella’s presence evoked. “We rode together for several years. Bracca has come to warn us of a new danger.”

  “Then he is doubly welcome to our home.” She gazed down at Bracca, smiled, and inclined her head in a slight bow.

  Whatever Bracca had heard, whatever he’d expected, Trella’s appearance and manner caught him off guard. His mouth opened slightly as he gazed up at Eskkar’s wife.

  Trella, now just thirty years old, wore an unadorned linen dress that barely brushed the floor, though one that showed her figure to its best advantage. Eskkar noticed that it was not the every-day garment she’d worn when she departed to visit Hathor’s household. After hearing Annok-sur’s words, Trella had changed into something finer, to reflect the important status of Eskkar’s guest.

  As she spoke, Trella held her head high, and her shoulders back. Her feet were bare, and her only jewelry was the single filet of silver that kept her thick black hair away from her face. Not only was Trella’s face devoid of the fashionable oils or copper paints to color her eyes or cheeks, but her face showed no hint of ever having used the artifices that most women of wealth employed. The bright candles sent glimmers of light shining in the lustrous hair that brushed her shoulders.

  Under the influence of her smile, Bracca slowly rose to his feet, the chair scraping awkwardly as he stood and returned her bow. Trella’s eyes held his own, and it took a moment before Bracca remembered to break the silence.

  “My thanks to the Queen of Akkad for her hospitality.”

  To Eskkar’s ears, Bracca’s voice sounded a trifle unsure, though he doubted anyone else would have noticed. Eskkar held back the smile at Bracca’s reaction to Trella’s presence. He’d seen the effect before.

  Trella, of course, noticed everything.
Her eyes now studied Bracca, his face, hands, even the man’s clothes and the manner in which he wore them.

  “For such a close companion of my husband my name is Trella. Please call me that. And if there is anything that you want or need, you have only to ask. Now please, sit.” She selected the pitcher of ale, and refilled the guest’s cup.

  Bracca sank back into the chair, then had to move it back to the table. “Thank you, Queen . . . Trella. Lady Trella.”

  “Eskkar recounted several stories about your travels, and how you brought him safely to Orak.” She handed him the cup, and gracefully took her own seat at the table.

  “Did he, now? Well, Eskkar was never very good at telling stories. Sometimes days would go by, and all he ever did was grunt.”

  Trella laughed, her white teeth flashing in the candlelight. The melodious sound filled the room. “He took some persuading. I explained that I needed to know his thoughts and deeds . . . all those things that helped him survive so many battles. The more I learned about him, the more I could help him. He told me your wits were as quick as your sword.”

  Bracca glanced at Eskkar. “And what else did you tell her of me?”

  Eskkar laughed. “Nothing good. Only that you kept getting us into trouble and then I had to save both our skins.” He paused a moment, remembering Bracca’s earlier words. “Nothing about Marcala.”

  “Marcala?” Trella inclined her head. “I believe there’s a gold mine near the village of Marcala, in the western part of Sumeria.”

  “You are well informed, Trella,” Bracca said. His composure had returned. “But the Marcala mine produces little these days. It is said that you are also from Sumeria.”

  “Many things are said about me,” Trella answered. “Most of them are untrue. But Eskkar said that you’ve come to warn us of some new danger?”