“Yes, I have learned much in the last few months,” Trella answered, a hint of bitterness in her voice. “When I was sold into slavery, I was told a slave needs to learn quickly. And so I am always learning. From Nicar, from Eskkar, from the people of the village, even from you, Annok-sur. I must be stronger and wiser than my seasons and I must hide my doubts, if Eskkar is to succeed.” She shook her head to banish the dark thoughts. “Do you need any help to find the house or furnish it?”
“No, I know what is needed,” Annok-sur replied. “But we should meet with Gatus in the morning, to make sure he is ready and understands his part in this new undertaking.”
“I think Gatus will find this task to his liking. Perhaps Zenobia will have the girls practice their arts on him.”
They both smiled at the thought of the old soldier reclining in bed, sip-ping fine wine, and surrounded by eager women while counting his profits.
“As long as they gather secrets,” Trella said. “I just wish Zenobia were already in business. Korthac and his men would be sure to visit her.”
Trella sighed. The secretive Egyptian seemed to be ever in her thoughts. Soon, she hoped, his riddle would be solved.
Tammuz and his new slave followed Gatus back to the alehouse, where he grunted his goodnight without stopping. Tammuz watched the veteran soldier disappear into darkness down the lane, hand on his sword.
While anyone walking around in the middle of the night could expect to be a target for robbers, only someone blind drunk or very desperate would think of attacking the captain of the guard.
Tammuz rapped three times on the door. “It’s Tammuz, Kuri. Open up.”
He waited, glancing up and down the narrow lane. En-hedu still held on to his left hand, an unfamiliar sensation he found surprisingly enjoy-able. He’d taken her hand when they left Trella’s house, before he remembered the need to keep his right hand free and close to the knife in his belt. So he changed hands, but discovered his crippled arm couldn’t hold her properly as they walked. Before he could get frustrated, En-hedu had gently withdrawn her hand from his weak grasp and taken his left hand in her own, holding him gently until they reached the alehouse.
The door creaked open at last, and Kuri stood there, looking half asleep, but holding his old copper sword in his hand. A sour odor wafted out of the alehouse; the old man smelled of barley ale, on his breath and his garment. His eyes widened in surprise at the sight of the girl.
“Fasten the door, Kuri.” Tammuz stepped in, leading his charge. Even in the best of neighborhoods, you didn’t stand about with the door open after dark. “No one else is to enter tonight.”
Inside, he led his new slave carefully through the blackness of the main room, trying to ignore the smells of ale, sweat, and worse. His new slave would no doubt be disgusted by such a place, especially after having lived at Trella’s house. Half a dozen snoring men slumbered on the fl oor, the heavy sleep of those who’d drunk too much ale before retiring late.
None of them woke as Tammuz passed between them and into his private quarters at the back of the alehouse.
Closing the door, Tammuz placed a rickety bar across the entrance.
The small room, less than half the size of Trella’s workroom, had no windows, but a hint of moonlight filtered into the chamber from the roof opening. Like nearly every other humble dwelling in Akkad, the inhabitants slept on the roof during the hottest part of the summer. Tammuz unbuckled his belt, and tossed it and his knife on a table, then struggled to remove the unfamiliar cloak, a covering he seldom wore.
En-hedu’s hand reached out. “Let me help you with that, master.”
She untied the cloak, then folded it neatly and placed in on the table.
He stood there, embarrassed at needing anyone’s help to remove a garment.
“Lady Trella told me much about you, master.” En-hedu kept her voice low, making sure her words could not be heard beyond the closed door. “She said you work in Lord Eskkar’s service.”
So she knew about his duties, just not that they considered him Hawk Clan.
“It’s little enough that I do for Lady Trella,” he said.
“She is a great lady. Without her help, I would be dead, either murdered by my master, or by my own hand.”
Tammuz felt wide awake now, despite the late hour, and her words piqued his curiosity. He guided En-hedu to one of two stools that faced each other across the small table, the only other furniture in the room beside the narrow bed, a small chest, and the ladder that provided access to the roof. The darkness shielded them both and made it somehow easier for him to talk. “Sit down. Would you like some ale? Or wine? I have…”
“No, nothing, master. The hour is late. You should be asleep, taking your rest.”
“I can’t sleep now. Tell me about yourself. How did you meet Lady Trella?”
They spoke for almost an hour. Tammuz learned that En-hedu’s parents had sold her at the slave market within days of her becoming a woman. She’d just entered into her thirteenth season, and her parents pocketed ten silver coins for their virgin daughter. Her new master, a tanner with his own shop, put in long hours at his craft, and made sure his new slave worked even harder.
When her master’s labor ended at sundown, En-hedu’s continued. He expected to be fed and pleasured long into the evening. The slightest fault on her part resulted in a beating, usually followed by a painful rape. She’d put up with it for three years, before she overcame her fear and struck back in desperation. That’s when he broke her nose. Neighbors heard her cries, and managed to stop him before he beat her to death.
The brutal beatings continued for the next few months, two or three times a week. Some days she could hardly stand, let alone work at the tannery. A woman living nearby sought out Trella and told her the story, and the extent of the beatings.
Trella and Annok-sur arrived the next day, escorted by two Hawk Clan soldiers, and offered the tanner five silver coins for his slave. The man refused. “Very well,” Trella replied. “Then I offer you four silver coins. If you do not take them, right now, tomorrow you will find that no one will purchase your leather, no one will sell you hides, no one will sell you bread or help you quench your thirst for ale. Soon no one will even speak to you. You will have to leave Akkad. Choose now.”
Tammuz laughed when En-hedu told that part of the story, imitat-ing Trella’s manner of speaking. “Yes, I remember her commanding the servants and even the soldiers in Eskkar’s house. It would be a brave man to stand up to her.”
“I remember every word she said,” En-hedu answered. “I was on my knees in a corner of his hut, where he’d told me to stay, afraid to look up.
Lady Trella waited, and when my master didn’t answer, she dropped four coins on the floor, called my name, and told me to come with her. Then she turned and left. I wanted to follow her, but couldn’t get to my feet. One of the soldiers had to help me. I thought I’d been saved by a goddess. I couldn’t stop crying.”
He reached across the table and touched her hand. “There’ll be no beatings here, En-hedu. I’ve never had a slave before, and I’m not sure how you can help me. This place will look even worse in the morning, nothing like Lady Trella’s fine house. If you wish, you can return to her service.
I’m sure she can find someone… someone better for you.”
She pondered his words for a moment. “No. Lady Trella said I could be helpful to you, and that what you do was important to Lord Eskkar and her. I will stay with you. She said you needed a woman to look after you.
I’m strong, and work hard. Don’t send me away.”
Before he could answer, En-hedu stood up.
“Now it is time to sleep. Come to bed, master.”
Tammuz heard the rustle of her dress as she pulled it over her head.
Then she took his hand and guided him next to the bed. Without asking, she helped remove his tunic, then crawled into the bed, closest to the wall.