By midmorning Eskkar felt satisfied his men had captured or killed all of Ninazu’s men. Gradually a sense of relief settled over the village.
The women stopped their screaming, the men their cursing. Still, most of Bisitun’s frightened inhabitants stayed in their huts, wondering what new woes these Akkadians from the south would bring to them.
Eskkar dispatched men to locate and gather the village elders and leading merchants, though few enough of them remained. At the same time, three messengers on captured horses rode out into the countryside, to spread the word of Ninazu’s overthrow and bring in the more substan-tial farmers, so that everyone could see what Bisitun’s new leaders had accomplished.
As the populace realized they would not be pillaged and raped, they gathered their courage and headed for the market area, empty except for Eskkar’s men and a few horses. In prosperous times, it would be filled with carts selling all manner of crops, animals, and goods, but for most of the morning, not a cart, vendor, not even a beggar, could be seen.
The marketplace, an irregular rectangle formed by dwellings of every shape and height, was accessed by half a dozen crooked lanes. That left plenty of room for the inhabitants, and soon more than a hundred people filled the square. To Eskkar’s eyes, they looked little better than the inhabitants of Dilgarth. Though surrounded by fruitful farmlands, food remained scarce in Bisitun, with Ninazu’s men taking most of what the local farmers delivered. Many villagers showed bruises on their thin bodies, marks from the bandit’s brutal treatment. Most wore simple tunics that needed washing. Only a few possessed sandals, though Eskkar recalled that almost all of Ninazu’s men had worn them.
The demands for vengeance against Ninazu and his followers mounted, with the village’s women shouting the loudest. Dozens, raped by the bandits, their husbands murdered, or both, cried out for Ninazu’s blood. Those outcries only stopped when Eskkar assured everyone that punishment would be meted out soon. Then the villagers pleaded for food. Ninazu hadn’t bothered to secure enough provisions for the siege, and most of what he had stored went to his men, with little left over for Bisitun. Fortunately, the handful of dead horses would provide a decent meal to most. Eskkar dispatched more riders to the countryside, to let the farmers know they could once again bring in their crops with safety, while receiving a fair price.
By noon Eskkar’s men patrolled the streets and lanes, the gates stood closed and guarded, and villagers labored to repair the burned-out section of the palisade. Fifty-seven of Ninazu’s followers had died, and forty-one taken prisoner. Some of these, the least violent and most tractable, would become slaves. With the mark of Akkad branded on their foreheads, they would live out the rest of their lives working in the fi elds and canals. The rest would be killed.
No one, including Eskkar, felt the slightest sympathy for any of them.
They’d chosen to live by the sword at the expense of their neighbors. The captured bandits deserved a sentence of slavery, if for nothing else than to make amends for their crimes.
Another thirty or more bandits had slipped away in the confusion.
Eskkar’s men had reported hearing splashes in the river, so no doubt many had risked their hand at swimming. Those that made it across the river would offer no threat to Bisitun for quite some time. One or two might still be hiding within the village, but Eskkar’s men would soon discover any that remained.
Surprisingly, Eskkar had lost only six men in the fighting. Two of those had climbed the palisade with Eskkar. Sisuthros had lost the others repulsing Ninazu’s sortie or storming the gate. Eight more had taken wounds, but with luck would survive. To the soldiers of Akkad, it seemed an incredible accomplishment. Outnumbered, and with minimal losses, they had defeated an entrenched and determined enemy in the space of a few hours. Eskkar’s reputation among the soldiers as a canny leader who cared about his men grew even greater.
The inhabitants of Bisitun appeared as impressed. Ninazu had lied to them, told them that the Akkadians would kill everyone in the village, just as he’d told them that the village couldn’t be taken.
Eskkar and Sisuthros had plenty of work to do. The scribes arrived from the encampment, and set about making lists of those villagers killed or robbed by Ninazu and his men. Eskkar sent a rider to Akkad to inform Trella and Gatus that Bisitun had been freed. He spoke with more than a dozen men imprisoned by Ninazu, and released all of them. Using one of the scribes, Eskkar made an account of the loot found at Ninazu’s house.
The bandit leader had taken over the largest structure in Bisitun for his residence, and Eskkar saw no reason to let it go to waste, claiming it as his headquarters.
The villagers, organized in small parties, began to bury the dead and repair the damage caused by the fighting. Nevertheless, it wasn’t until midday that Eskkar felt confident enough to order everyone to the market square to hear his words. If so many villagers hadn’t been killed or driven out, the square could never have accommodated them. Even then, the rooftops seemed as crowded as the streets.
Eskkar hated giving speeches, but the people of Bisitun needed to hear and see him. But they, like the villagers in Dilgarth, needed to know who he was, why he’d come, and what their role would be in the future.
When he looked over the crowd, he saw shock and fear still gripped most of them. The crowd quieted when he climbed on a cart and raised his hand, as the soldiers ringing the square called out for everyone to keep quiet. He waited impassively until the chattering turned into murmurs, then into silence.
In a loud voice, Eskkar announced that Bisitun had come under the rule and protection of Akkad, and that from this day, Sisuthros would command here in Akkad’s name. A new village council, to include craftsmen and farmers as well as merchants, would be established to handle local matters, including justice for the bandits and their victims. The same customs governing Akkad would be established here, and would apply equally to all, just as they did in Akkad.
“What are these new customs?” a voice in the crowd shouted out.
“The council,” Eskkar said, raising his hand for silence, “will set the prices of grain and other goods. The council will also set the penalties for crimes, from theft to murder. The council will decide what rules the people in Bisitun need, and those rules will apply to everyone in the village and the surrounding farms, including the members of the council. Persons who feel themselves treated unjustly can appeal first to the council, and then to Sisuthros. He will decide anything of import, or, if he thinks necessary, Sisuthros can refer the matter to me and the council back in Akkad for a final decision. You will be governed justly and fairly.”
The villagers looked at each other, no doubt wondering what that really meant, but a few cheered at Eskkar’s announcement.
“The new customs,” Eskkar added, “apply to my own soldiers. They’ve received strict instructions to take no liberties with the local people. Starting now, Sisuthros will provide soldiers for protection not only of the village, but enough to begin regular patrols of the surrounding farms. More soldiers and craftsmen will arrive from Akkad over the next few months, to strengthen the palisade and provide more security. Restoration of the farms to their rightful owners, and assistance with the canals and irrigation will be given the fi rst priority. Taxes, in the form of goods, will be sent to Akkad on a regular basis, to pay for the protection and safety Akkad will supply.”
Eskkar didn’t speak long, just expanded on the same speech he’d given in Dilgarth only a few days ago. He turned the crowd over to Sisuthros, leaving him to take the brunt of the inhabitants’ questions. Hours passed.
Sisuthros explained the new ways of Akkad in detail, interrupted constantly to answer question after question. He had trouble keeping the crowd under control at first, but when everyone realized their voice would be heard, they quieted somewhat and learned to raise their hands when they wished to be heard.