Sisuthros consulted with the local people and tradesmen, as well as the few farmers who had taken shelter within Bisitun. He took nomina-tions for the council, and promised to begin the distribution of stolen lands and goods tomorrow morning. When he finished, he dismissed the villagers and told them to return to their homes or farms. Then, ignoring the pleas and questions that still lingered, he gathered those who would become the council of elders and departed for one of the houses a little way off the square.
Eskkar breathed a sigh of relief as he watched them go, most of the crowd following after Sisuthros. He and Grond entered Ninazu’s former home. Someone had stocked the table with food and drink, and the two men emptied their water cups even before they sat. Until now, there’d been little time to eat or rest since the attack began the night before.
“By the gods, I’m glad that’s over!” Grond said, as he banged down his cup. “I thought the questions would never stop.”
Eskkar laughed. “They won’t. Not for a few weeks at least.” He refilled his cup from the pitcher. “If they’re anything like the people of Akkad, they’ll drive Sisuthros crazy with their complaints and quarrels.”
“I still can’t believe how quickly Ninazu’s men collapsed,” Grond said, shaking his head and yawning. “It’s going to take a day or two before everything calms down.”
“Longer than that,” Eskkar said, lifting his feet onto the table. “Remember, we have to settle the countryside as well as the village. We need those crops in the ground as soon as possible.”
In the last few months Eskkar had learned all about the mysteries of the farm. Now he understood that real wealth flowed from the crops in the fields, that gold merely transferred that wealth from one person to another.
When the farms produced in plenty, gold would flow into Bisitun and Akkad. However, without the farms, there would be little gold, no trade, and no prosperity.
The talk died out as the two men picked at the food spread before them. There was wine and bread, as well as cheese, dates, and honey. Ninazu had stocked his house well, with luxuries long absent from the villagers’ tables. Eskkar mixed a splash of wine in with his water. The long night had tired him more than he would admit, and he didn’t trust himself with too much strong drink.
He looked up when two women entered the room, passed in by the Hawk Clan guard who stood at the door. One carried a large wooden platter holding half a dozen slices of roasted horsemeat. The other held a small plate stacked with sweetened cakes. The women bore a strong resemblance, and Eskkar guessed them to be sisters.
The older of the two put a slice of horsemeat on each of the men’s plates, then left the platter in the center of the table. She took the sweet cakes from her sister and placed it before them as well, her eyes carefully appraising Eskkar as she did so. Then she bowed, looked at Grond, and both women left the room.
Grond cleared his throat. “Captain, I forgot to tell you, when we searched this house, we found six women here. Ninazu’s women. Four have returned to their homes or families. But these two…” He shrugged.
“They say they have no place to go.”
Eskkar shook his head. He’d be dealing with Ninazu’s legacy for months, one thing after another. Even the bandit’s loot had become a problem. They’d found a small, windowless room in the house containing four sacks crammed with gold, jewelry, and other valuables, Ninazu’s personal share of the booty. Many of the coins bore the marks of villages to the north and west, so the bandit had obviously accumulated plenty of booty even before arriving in Bisitun.
Ninazu remained with his plunder, though no doubt it gave him less pleasure today, sitting on it with his leg broken. Still, a Hawk Clan soldier stood constant guard over Ninazu and his gold. The bandit chief seemed much too crafty and resourceful, and Eskkar didn’t want to take any chances with him escaping.
But until now, Eskkar hadn’t heard about any women, though it didn’t surprise him. Even a bandit needed someone to run his household, as well as needing women with whom to take his pleasures. Six women seemed quite a number for one man. Eskkar’s opinion of Ninazu increased.
“Well, they must have come from someplace.” Eskkar took his knife and sliced a bit of the warm meat and put it in his mouth. After last night’s slaughter at the corral, there would be plenty of horsemeat for the next few days. The steamy flesh tasted good, and he realized how hungry he was. Cutting up the thick steak, he alternated bites with bread, sweet and fresh, washing everything down with watered wine.
“Ninazu brought these two women with him when he rode into Bisitun,” Grond continued, as he worked at his own food. “Sisuthros asked me to take care of them. They offered to keep your house if they could stay here. I said that you would speak to them.”
Eskkar looked at his bodyguard in surprise, but the man’s attention remained focused on his plate. Grond had never offered to intercede for others with his leader, though more than a few in Akkad had sought him out, to try and take advantage of his friendship with Eskkar.
“I’ll talk to them later, then,” Eskkar said, as he finished the meat and selected some figs to finish the meal. He had never cared for the sweet cakes villagers devoured at every opportunity, thinking them somehow unfit for a warrior, a concept that dated back to his barbarian days. Trella had smiled when he told her about it, but she ate them only infrequently herself.
When he finished eating, he drank another cup of water, then stood up and stretched. The heavy meal sapped whatever strength remained and he felt exhausted. More than a day had passed since he’d slept, and even that had been cut short. He felt the heaviness in his legs, and cursed his own weakness.
“Grond, I’m going to get some sleep. Get some rest yourself. We’ll probably be up late tonight as well, with all these villagers pestering us.
Tell the guard to wake me in three hours.”
Eskkar had explored the house earlier. It possessed five rooms. The common room ran the length of the house, and took up half the structure.
One end contained a fireplace and a work table for preparing meals; the other held the large table where the previous owner had taken his dinner.
Four chambers, varying in size, took up the rest of the dwelling, all of them accessed from the main room.
The master’s bedroom occupied a corner of the house, with a solid door a few steps from the table. Inside, Eskkar found a large, comfortable-looking bed. A thick wooden bar leaned against the wall, and he used it to secure the door, knowing he’d sleep sounder with the door fastened.
He heard Grond giving instructions to one of the soldiers to stand guard, more to keep anyone from bothering their leader than from any need for caution. Stopping only to unbelt his sword, he dropped gratefully on the bed, threw an arm over his eyes to block out the light, and fell asleep in moments.
The knocking on the door shook the wooden panels, and when Eskkar forced his eyes open, he realized the pounding had gone on for some time.
Grond’s voice called to him through the door, but it took a real effort to clear his head and force himself to sit up. A glance at the window told him several hours had gone by. He shouted at Grond to stop beating on the door, then went and opened it.
Grond had already gone, replaced outside the door by the two women who had served the meal earlier. One carried a tall pitcher of water in both hands, while the other held a large clay bowl. Both had drying cloths across their arms. They moved past him while he stood there, trying to comprehend their presence, and they placed their burdens on the small table near the bed. The older girl turned toward him and bowed.