Once those living and working nearby knew she belonged to him, she’d be safe enough. In a day or so, she could go about on her own.
While they were gone, Tammuz spoke with two men who still remained inside, men who preferred not to be seen in daylight, men being hunted by their victims or by the captain of the guard’s men. Fortunately, most of the guards knew Kuri had soldiered with Gatus. That friendship usually kept any members of the watch outside, though once, while looking for a murderer, they pushed their way inside. Luckily for Tammuz, the killer had already left. The guards’ leader had looked about at the poor furnishings, spat on the floor, and left.
Tammuz told the two men what they owed for food, ale, and use of the floor to sleep. One who had the coins paid up; the other left to earn it, by whatever means he could. He knew better than to come back empty-handed. If desperate men needed a safe place to stay, they would have to pay for it, and how they got their copper didn’t concern Tammuz.
Nevertheless, all of his customers had received one warning: no killing. Murderers would not be protected. Even Tammuz couldn’t chance harboring a killer, exposing himself to the villagers’ wrath for anyone who violated the customs by concealing such an offender.
That task done, Tammuz checked the ale supply, first to make sure none of the guests had tapped the big clay jars during the night, and then to see how much more he needed to buy. His stock needed frequent replenishing. That meant a trip to the market this morning for at least two more jars.
En-hedu returned, carrying a basket that smelled of fresh bread, with Kuri limping behind. The three went into Tammuz’s room to eat their breakfast bread and sausage, and sip well-watered ale from crudely carved cups. When they finished, Tammuz gave Kuri some silver coins, and told him to buy more ale.
Kuri left, grabbing two new customers to accompany him and carry back the filled jars. A free mug of ale would pay for their labor.
En-hedu swept the bread crumbs into the basket, then faced Tammuz across the table. “What should I do, master?”
A good question, one that needed discussing, but one he couldn’t talk about here, not with the door open and men hanging about. “Come, let’s go for a walk.”
Fortunately, during the mornings, usually nothing much happened at the alehouse, and Kuri could take care of the few customers that came. At dusk, things got busy, and Tammuz knew En-hedu would be useful serving the customers.
Once in the lane, she moved to his left side and took his hand without saying a word. He led the way down the lane. Her touch affected him, and the vision of her naked breasts flashed into his thoughts. By the time he got the sight out of his mind, they’d traversed two lanes, and reached the lane where Korthac resided.
Tammuz slowed his pace. “That’s where Korthac is staying,” he said, pointing to the inn a few dozen paces ahead. A bored guard stood at the door, a sword at his waist. “The Egyptian won’t stay in this place much longer. He’ll be moving to a fine house, away from common folk.”
“Lady Trella said only Korthac’s men lived inside, except for the innkeeper,” En-hedu said.
The guard didn’t even look up as they passed. They kept going, and soon they reached the river gate. Turning south, they walked in silence until the walls of Akkad slipped behind them, and the fresh air of the farms cleared their lungs. A flat rock near the river gave them a place to sit.
“You want to learn about this Korthac?” En-hedu pulled her knees up and held them with her arms.
“Yes. Lady Trella wants to know what he’s planning.” Tammuz told her everything he knew about Korthac, his tight control of his men, the way he kept them apart from the rest of Akkad.
“We should find out where his new house will be,” she said. “Perhaps I can help. It would be good to keep watch on his new home, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes, but they’d soon notice anyone hanging about all day.”
“Yes… but if I were selling something or other, like any street vendor, no one would notice me.”
He looked at her. A woman normally didn’t make such suggestions to a man, let alone a slave to her master. But she wasn’t merely a slave. Trella had urged him to listen to her, which meant Trella believed in her wits.
“And if I set up my cart before they moved in, no one would suspect anything.” She shifted on the rock, to look straight into his eyes. “This is something I can do, Tammuz. A slave has to earn her keep. It’s what any servant would do for her master.”
“And at night, you could return to the alehouse,” he mused, “to help with the serving. Once it grew dark, I could keep watch on Korthac’s home from any of the rooftops.” He touched her hand. “You would do this?”
“To help you, to help Lady Trella… this is nothing, master. I worked from dawn to dusk with my old master, tanning hides. Look at my arms.”
She lifted her hands up.
Her arms looked as strong as any farm woman’s who labored all day in the fi elds. But his eyes noted her arms for only a moment, before being drawn to her breasts. He looked away when she dropped her arms.
“Master, you need not look away. You may take me whenever you wish. I’ve been taken many times.”
Tammuz ground his teeth at the thought of her former master. “En-hedu, I’ve never been with a woman. When I do lie with one, I want her to be willing… to want me.” The words had come out without thinking, but what surprised him more was that he remembered where he’d heard such words before: at the campfire a few days before Eskkar’s return to Akkad.
Someone had asked the captain of the guard about his slave, Trella. And Eskkar had answered that he no longer wanted to take women against their will, that he found it more satisfying to take his pleasure with someone who wanted him.
“Tammuz, I’m not sure I will ever want to be with a man. All I have is the memory of pain. Pain and humiliation.”
Her former master again. The man should die. And why not? “En-hedu, Lady Trella gave you to me so that you could help me.” He stood and extended his hand. “Perhaps we can help each other. But for now, let’s make our plans for this Korthac, before we have to get back. Otherwise Kuri will drink all the fresh ale.”
She clasped his hand, and he felt the pleasure of her touch flow through him. Be patient, he thought. Then he thought about her former master. I’ll be patient with him, too, he decided, patient until I put my knife between his ribs.
8
The noonday sun shone straight down on Bisitun before Eskkar sat down for the first time. He stretched weary legs straight out and let himself relax for a moment. Since the sunrise capture of Ninazu, Eskkar and his men had rushed about the village, scarcely pausing to scoop a cup of water or a fistful of bread. Chaos ruled all morning, with a hundred tasks demanding his attention.
While Sisuthros worked on securing the village, Eskkar rounded up every horse he could find and put them under guard. Mounted Akkadians already ringed the palisade to make sure no bandits escaped. Sentries stood watch at the two gates as well, while the rest of Eskkar’s men guarded prisoners.
Eskkar had escorted Ninazu, his arms bound tightly to his sides, back to his own house. The sight of the bandit leader being led through the lanes helped restore order to the village. Once there, Eskkar ordered one of Ninazu’s legs broken, to make sure he didn’t attempt to escape.
Meanwhile Hamati took a squad of men and searched every house and hut, looking for bandits trying to hide within the dwellings or on rooftops.
That took most of the morning. When they finished, they’d discovered and captured nearly a dozen more of Ninazu’s men scattered through Bisitun, cowering in corners or huddled under blankets. One bandit attempted to fi ght his way out, killing an innocent villager in the process. Mitrac killed the bandit with an arrow when he refused to surrender.