Crack.
The woman warrior fired again, this time at less than five paces, and the lioness died at her feet, a last savage reflex driving it to bite the dirt.
Perhaps she has a man's soul, he thought. It would be intriguing to bed such a woman…
With the lions safely dead, the hunting party drew aside to a place where a few wild palms gave some shade. Servants watered the horses and fed them, set up an awning for shade and passed around the contents of baskets and flasks. Kashtiliash took a glass bottle from the strangers' stores and sipped, raising his brow. To begin with, it was cold-almost ice cold. That was a great luxury; the king had an icehouse in his palace, filled with blocks brought down from the mountains in winter, and perhaps a few great nobles and rich merchants had likewise.
Kat'rin-Hollard leaned on her elbow on a blanket nearby and wiped at her face and neck with a cloth, resting the cool bottle against her cheek for a second and sighing. Kashtiliash watched out of the corner of an eye, fascinated, as she sprawled at ease.
I have never seen a woman who moves like that, he thought. Not with a harlot's brazenness, although that was how it appeared at first. As if she moves her limbs and body without thinking of them-as a man might.
"Your land of Nantukhet is colder than Kar-Duniash? Like Hatti-land, or the mountains."
Kenneth-Hollard nodded. "Somewhat colder, in summer-a warm night here would be a hot day there. Much colder than your land in the winter-cold rain that turns to ice, and much snow."
Kashtiliash had campaigned along the edges of the Zagros in winter, and he shivered a little inwardly at the memory. "Great forests, too, I hear."
"Not Nantucket on," Kathryn said-her Akkadian wasn't as good as her commander's-"On mainland not far away, yes. Trees half as tall as ziggurat of Ur, cover land many thousand… how do you say… thousand day walks. We cut, cut fuel, cut timber, cut for farms, still always more."
"All the logs you want, for the cutting-it seems unnatural, like picking gold up off the ground," Kashtiliash said. Kar-Duniash grew nothing but poplar and palm and had to buy abroad for anything that required large, strong timbers, or hard and handsome ones. "But doubtless you need the fuel."
"We show, you have the black oil that burns?" Hollard said.
He puzzled at that for a second, then realized she meant the black water; he'd never thought to call it "oil," as if it were sesame pressings or pig lard.
"Yes, that will burn, but only with a stinking smoke," he replied.
"If you-" she hesitated, frustration on her face, and talked with the other two Nantukhtar. "Our word is distill… distill it, parts burn clean, it will. For lamps, for make… for making bricks. And for firing our steam boats."
He hid a slight shudder. Many had gone on their faces-or screamed and run-when the first of those came walking upstream without oars or sails. It still caused uneasiness, fear of ill luck. Yet already some of the merchants of the karum had hired those boats to haul cargo upstream. And-
"Those could be very useful to us when it comes to war against the Assyrians," he said.
Kathryn and the others nodded. "A road for supplies right into the heart of the enemy's country," she said.
"We have a saying, O Prince," Kenneth-Hollard said. "That… ah, novices talk of the clash of arms, and experienced warriors speak of supplies."
"That is true; it cannot be denied!" Kashtiliash agreed.
They not only have wonderful weapons, but they understand how weapons should be used, he thought with relief-he must tell his father of this. That was the difference between a civilized realm like Babylon and mountain tribesmen or Aramaean sand-thieves; the scribes and storehouses and skilled men to keep bread and beer and salt fish, fresh horses and arrowheads, flowing out to the armies in the field. And the silver to keep soldiers longer than the smell of loot, and the engineers to build fortresses and bridges.
He had a sudden, daunting thought; did the Nantukhtar view him as he might a chief of the Aramaeans? For that matter, his remote forebears had been hill-chiefs, hungry strangers who came down into these rich lowlands during the chaos that followed the fall of Hammurabi's dynasty.
Kashtiliash followed the conversation, appreciating how skillfully the Nantukhtar picked up slivers of information in answering his questions, and equally how they avoided telling him more than they wished him to know without giving offense. Here I am, discussing affairs of war and state with a woman, and it seems quite natural, he thought. Disturbing and intriguing at once.
At last their minds turned from larger matters to the hunt, through discussing what the rifles could do.
"My thanks to you," he said. "You killed five. Perhaps if we had many of these rifles, we could finally kill the vermin faster than they breed, and our stock and the peasants' children would be safe."
The Nantukhtar looked at each other again. "Well," Hollard said, "that's one way of looking at it."
"I proclaim these men free!" William Walker shouted. "Slaves no more!"
He stepped forward and twisted the metal collar around the first man's neck. The soft wrought iron had been filed nearly through, and it parted easily under the strong, wrenching pressure. The man fell to his knees, tears leaking down his face, and gripped the king's shins, babbling his thanks. He had a thick accent and pale eyes; he'd probably been bought in trade with the barbarians of the north. They were always willing to sell their tribal enemies for silver and wine. For steel swords, sometimes their relatives.
"If you wish to thank me, work well and faithfully," Walker said, restraining an urge to kick the new freedman loose, smiling and patting him on the shoulder instead; the guardsman dragged him back. Mustn't spoil the tone of the occasion.
He went on down the line of slaves who waited in the strong sun; there were thirty men and twenty women, about average for a week when he hadn't been away. As he took the collar off each, a clerk handed the new-made freeman or woman a certificate of manumission on parchment and a small leather bag of coined silver. When he was finished, he climbed the steps from the floor of the stadium and stood once more at the front of the royal box.
"Let all men know," he went on, "that these royal freedmen are now citizens of the kingdom, for they have labored hard to make those things we most need. Let them be paid a wage; let them be free to marry and establish their own households, to own land and to bear arms, to testify on oath in court. Let any children of theirs be enrolled in the royal schools, and let all men know that they have earned the king's favor, and the honored title of Stakhanovites!
A long, rolling cheer went around the stadium, buffeting his ears. There were about ten thousand here, nearly all the free population of Walkeropolis and their families, minus guards and the duty roster of the garrison, plus the most favored element of the slaves-most favored next to this crop of ones being manumitted, of course. It was walking distance from town, and they'd run out a spur from the city's wooden-rail, horse-drawn trolley system as well.
The public stadium was a compromise between what he remembered of Greek Odeums and an American football stadium. From here everyone could see him when he stood and stepped forward to the gilded railing of the marble-and-lapis king's box to speak, but a few steps back under the great striped awning one could enjoy shade and privacy without sacrificing a good view.
Walker walked backward three paces to seat himself on the throne, raising his hand high to acknowledge the roaring of the crowd. A fair number of them had been freed themselves in ceremonies of just this kind-less elaborate in earlier years, of course. Around the edge of the royal box stood a platoon from his guard regiment, in their gray chain-mail tunics, helmets, and cloaks, their bayoneted rifles across their chests. On every shoulder was his wolfshead badge, red on black; in the smooth marble front wall of the box the same symbol was set in orilachrium and onyx, and it flapped from the flagposts all around the amphitheater.