“Damn the gods,” Bantor said, rage back in his voice. “I’ll go to the gate.
But I swear Ariamus won’t get away from me this time.” Bantor shouted for Klexor. They collected their men, nearly twenty of them, and jogged out into the lane, heading for the gate.
As Eskkar turned back toward the stairs, Ventor the healer entered the house, his eyes wide in amazement as he took in the carnage and death.
His frightened apprentice, glancing nervously in every direction, followed carefully behind, carrying his master’s box of instruments. Eskkar took Ventor by the arm and guided him toward the steps. “Have your apprentice care for Grond. You attend to Trella. She’s upstairs, wounded.”
Eskkar took the instrument box from the apprentice, and used his other hand to half-carry the old healer up the stairs and into the outer room.
“Annok-sur,” Eskkar shouted, the sound filling the now quiet workroom. “It’s Eskkar. Open the door.”
He heard the bar scrape, then fall to the floor with a thud. The door swung open. The lamp still burned, but the sun provided more than enough light. The baby had stopped crying, held close and nursing in his mother’s bloody arms. Korthac lay where Eskkar had left him, still unconscious. Annok-sur looked weak, but she still held Korthac’s knife over his motionless body. She nodded to Eskkar and moved back to the foot of the bed, to maintain her watch on the Egyptian.
Trella’s eyes looked up at him. She seemed to have trouble focusing, but then she recognized Eskkar and smiled.
“You’re safe now, Trella,” he said, kneeling next to the bed and taking her hand. “Korthac is taken and his men are being hunted down.”
She nodded, and her body seemed to relax. Tears formed in the corners of her eyes. “Stay with me, Eskkar.”
“I’ll not leave you again, Trella, I swear it. Now let Ventor tend to you.”
“Is Bantor alive?” Annok-sur asked, leaning over and holding her head with both hands, still holding the bloody knife.
“Very alive,” Eskkar said. “He’s gone off to hunt down Ariamus.”
“Look at your son, Eskkar,” Trella said, her words calling him back to her side.
Ventor moved to the other side of the bed. “Give me the child for a moment, Lady Trella.” He gently lifted the child from her arms, then offered the babe to Annok-sur. She handed the knife to Eskkar, then took and held the infant close to her breast.
“Let Ventor tend to your wound, Trella,” Eskkar said, stroking her hair for a moment.
She nodded, and her head fell back onto the bed. “Look at your son.”
Eskkar took a step to Annok-sur’s side, and peered down at the infant for a few moments. The child, its cheeks red and eyes screwed shut, looked very small.
“He looks well, Trella,” Eskkar said, not sure what to say.
A moan from the floor turned his attention to Korthac, still lying there unmoving. Eskkar reached down and grasped the unconscious man by the shoulders and dragged him out of the bedroom, pulling him across the workroom until he reached the top of the stairs. The soldier Eskkar had ordered to guard the stairs still held his post at the foot of the stairs. Just then two of the household’s servants stepped through the remains of the door, moving gingerly past the bodies of the dead, their eyes wide at the sight of all that blood and death.
“Get this filth out of my house,” Eskkar said, letting Korthac slump to the landing. Eskkar resisted the urge to roll Korthac off the landing; the fall might kill him, and that would be too easy a death. “Find three men to guard him. They’re to stay within arm’s length of the Egyptian. If he gives you any trouble, or anyone tries to rescue him, kill him.”
The soldier nodded.
Eskkar called down to the servants, and told them to bring fresh blankets, water, and anything else they thought Trella and Annok-sur would need. He turned back inside, pushing the door closed to lessen the noise from the courtyard.
Annok-sur didn’t even look up when he returned, just rocked slowly back and forth, trying to soothe the baby. Ventor had pulled back the blanket from Trella’s hips and leaned over to examine her wound, his face inches from the still-oozing cut.
“I’m afraid you’ll need to change the bedding when I’m done, Lord Eskkar,” the old man said. “There must have been much blood lost during the birthing.”
Another woman, one of the regular servants, came into the room, but left almost immediately as Ventor called for bandages and fresh water.
Eskkar stood there, unsure of what to do. He wanted to ask Ventor if Trella would live, but he knew better than to interrupt the healer with questions; the man would tell him as soon as he knew. The baby began to cry, and Annok-sur whispered soothingly to the infant. Ventor began wiping the blood from Trella’s side, and Eskkar saw the wound from Korthac’s knife. The slashing blow had struck a little above her hip.
The servant returned with water and linen. Ventor washed the gash, then wiped the blood from Trella’s body before pressing the cloth against the wound. “She’s still bleeding from the birthing, but not heavily. The wound is only a deep cut, and she won’t be walking for a few days. I believe she will recover.”
Eskkar exhaled a long sigh of relief. His wife would live. That was all that mattered.
Ventor’s touch calmed Trella almost as much as his words. Her eyes closed, and she seemed to fall into a light sleep.
The healer worked swiftly. He cut up a clean part of the blanket and used it to bind Trella’s wound. Then he washed the rest of the blood from her body.
Eskkar handed him the second blanket, and Ventor draped it gently over her, leaving only her head and shoulders exposed.
“She needs to rest for a few hours,” Ventor said. “We’ll know more then. I’ll go tend to the other wounded.” He stood and went to Annok-sur, gazing down at the child. “The baby seems healthy, though a bit small.”
“The child is safe, Eskkar,” Annok-sur said, ignoring Ventor’s comment.
“And so is Trella. The wound is not deep. But she’s lost a lot of blood.”
Eskkar muttered thanks to the gods. His wife would live, and he had a son. He’d captured Korthac, broken his men, and retaken Akkad. Eskkar started to shake, as much a reaction from worrying about Trella as from all the fighting. Suddenly his legs felt weary.
Annok-sur recognized the signs. Wincing from the effort, she lifted the baby up onto her shoulder. “Come outside, Eskkar. You can do nothing here. Let her rest for a few moments, to regain her strength.”
Giving Trella one last look, Eskkar followed Annok-sur out of the bedroom, peering over her shoulder at his son’s tiny face. For the first time, Eskkar felt the stirring of pride. He’d fathered a son, Sargon, who would carry on not only Eskkar’s name but his descendants’, those who would come afterward, down through the ages. The thought surprised him. Eskkar had never thought more than a few days ahead before, but now, the future appeared to stretch before him, the child showing the way. Somehow that seemed more important than Korthac’s defeat.
28
Hathor and his Egyptians had finally gained control of the mob milling about the main gate. A handful of the cursed Akkadian archers had slipped into the city and captured the left tower, but his men still held the right. They reported no activity in the countryside outside the gate, no horde of fighters waiting for the gate to be flung open. Once again, Takany had chosen an unwise course of action. For a moment Hathor felt tempted to take his men and return to Korthac’s house, but that would have provoked Takany beyond all reason. Better to fi nish the business here and then return, with the gate safe and under Hathor’s control.
He had a rough count of the enemy who’d taken refuge in the tower, and knew he faced less than twenty men. Now Hathor needed to come to grips with them, to kill these intruders before the city turned against him.
He didn’t have much time. Eskkar’s name sounded everywhere around him, growing louder every minute as more and more people of Akkad took up the cry. Dawn had broken over the city’s walls, exposing the full extent of the carnage at the gate. Bodies littered the open area, most with arrows protruding. Wounded men cried out for help, or tried to crawl to nearby houses seeking safety.