Alone in the workroom, Trella fingered the gold coin that hung around her neck as she faced Annok-sur across the table. “Have we learned anything further, anything new, about Korthac?”
“Only that he’s ready, today or tomorrow, to purchase a place to live.
He’s looked at a few houses, but he’s still staying at the inn and …”
“Nothing from his men, nothing from the women they’ve approached, people he’s dealt with?”
“No, nothing like that. His men keep to themselves and stay close to the inn. Twice he’s brought women back there for a few hours, to entertain his followers, but I haven’t found any woman who’ll admit to pleasuring him.” Annok-sur shrugged. “Perhaps he prefers men or boys, though I’ve heard nothing of that, either.”
“It’s been more than ten days, and we still know little about him, except he possesses a good deal of wealth and pays well.” Trella reached out and touched the peridot that rested on the table between them. “We need to learn more.”
“You still think there’s something amiss with him, something in his past?”
“It’s not his past that worries me, Annok-sur. It’s his plans for the future. He’s hiding something, I’m sure of it. I’ve been thinking, perhaps Tammuz can discover what it is. Can you bring him tonight?”
Tammuz, barely into his sixteenth season, had ridden as a camp boy with Eskkar at the start of the campaign against the Alur Meriki. His one and only battle had shattered his arm, and he’d nearly died from his wounds. The fight also ended his dream of becoming a soldier. Before joining Eskkar’s fighters, Tammuz had survived as a petty thief, but now even that life would be denied him. With little to look forward to except life as a beggar, the young man had been devastated.
Trella, always searching for friends and allies no matter what their station in life, had devised a plan for him. Four months earlier, she and Eskkar gave Tammuz enough silver to set himself up in a small alehouse in the worst part of Akkad, one catering to the poorest and most desperate inhabitants. Acting under the cover of his former profession, Tammuz joined Trella’s network of spies, keeping his ears and eyes open for any plots against Eskkar’s House. Gatus provided an old veteran, injured while training for the siege, to help Tammuz run the establishment, which soon became more a den of petty thieves than alehouse. Tammuz flourished better than Trella hoped, and had already supplied some minor but useful information.
“I’ll escort him past the guards,” Annok-sur said. “You’ll want Gatus here as well, in case Tammuz needs anything from him. Midnight would be the best time.”
Aside from Eskkar, Gatus, and Annok-sur, no one knew of Tammuz’s new role. Even the founding Hawk Clan soldiers had already dismissed the memory of the crippled youth; warriors formed the Hawk Clan, and none of them expected Eskkar to remember his campfire promise to an insignificant boy. Since the day he left Eskkar’s compound, Tammuz had returned only once, at night and with his face concealed by a cloak. Only Gatus or Annok-sur could vouchsafe an unknown person past the house guards.
“No, two hours before midnight,” Trella said. “I want you to bring Zenobia here at midnight.”
“Ah, then it’s time to help her establish a House?”
Trella sighed. “It’s past time, I think. I wish we’d helped her before, but there was no time. Now we’ll have to move faster.”
Annok-sur laughed. “It won’t take Zenobia long to get noticed.”
Trella could laugh at that. “Let’s hope not.”
That night Gatus accompanied Tammuz and Annok-sur into the workroom, where two lamps burned, an extravagance that lent weight to the importance of the meeting. Trella always paid close attention to people’s faces when they spoke, and if that required burning extra oil, she didn’t consider it a waste. She rose and bowed respectfully to the young man, reminding herself not to count his seasons, though he was much the same age as she. As Eskkar reminded her, you don’t treat someone who’s killed an enemy in battle as a boy.
“Greetings, Tammuz,” she said. “Thank you for coming.”
Tammuz pushed back the cloak that hid his face, worn more to mask his identity than keep out the nighttime chill, and bowed as well. Straightening up, he pushed light brown hair away from his face, revealing a broad smile. “My thanks to you, Lady Trella. It’s good to see you again.”
Trella returned the smile, remembering how Eskkar had saved Tammuz’s life, then placed him in her care. When Tammuz smiled, he looked like a young boy, innocent, though she recognized his growing maturity.
“Come,” she said, “sit down, and tell me what you’ve been doing. But first, let me look at your arm.”
The left arm had been broken in two places, and, out on the battlefield, none of Eskkar’s men knew how to set the break properly. The ride back to Akkad had almost killed the boy. Tammuz lost most of the use of his left hand, and now the arm itself seemed shrunken, bent, and hanging at an odd angle. But the young man lived, and Trella knew that life, even as a cripple, was preferable to death.
She ignored Tammuz’s embarrassment as she came around the table and helped him remove his cloak before taking his hand. “Let me see you move your fingers,” she ordered. “Have you kept to the healer’s advice?”
“I have, Lady Trella, though I don’t think it much matters. He says… he says my arm will never be straight, and there’s nothing more he can do.
If it weren’t for you and Captain Eskkar…” His voice trailed off as he lowered his head. “There’s no work for a man with one arm.”
Trella had not only nursed him back to health and made sure the healers did their best, but she’d given him a reason to live. More than that, she showed him a different way to fight, a different kind of warfare that went on each day in the shadows, where men whispered over cups of ale.
“Don’t forget you are Hawk Clan, Tammuz. We are always proud of you, and you will never lack for friends.” Trella lifted her hand to include Gatus and Annok-sur, sitting quietly at the other table. “Besides, what you do is more important than soldiering, remember that.”
“I try to remember, Lady Trella, though it is hard sometimes.”
“As is your work. You are our eyes and ears among the poor, the thieves, the prostitutes, and the murderers. With Akkad growing in size each day, there are many desperate men, men who will steal, cheat, and kill. More such will arrive in the coming months. We need someone who can mingle with these people to learn the things Eskkar needs to know. Do you have enough silver? Do you need more?”
“No, Lady Trella, not yet. I collect a share of what my customers steal, in return for letting them hide themselves and their goods in the alehouse. And I resell a few items myself, mostly small things that can’t be traced back to me. Sometimes customers disappear, leaving their goods behind. It’s enough to keep food on the table and ale jars filled. ”
Part of the arrangement with Eskkar and Trella was that Tammuz need only report on things that concerned Eskkar’s House. Trella did not care about petty crimes or cut purses. Nevertheless, everyone knew that when the wealthy wanted a private murder done, they often sought out and hired desperate men, like those who frequented Tammuz’s establishment.
“If you need more silver, send word through Annok-sur or Gatus.”
She pulled the cloak back over his arm and returned to her chair. Leaning forward, she focused her attention on Tammuz. Along with his responses, she would examine every expression, gesture, even the way he sat. Very little escaped her eyes and ears, and she knew how to take stock of what she heard and observed. “And now I have something different to ask of you. It may be dangerous.”