By then, Eskkar had had enough. Unnoticed, he returned into the house, followed by his bodyguard. He and Grond sat down at the big table.
“You don’t feel like watching, Captain?” Grond filled two cups with water.
“I’ve seen enough of death and torture in the last few months.” Eskkar felt glad to be away from Ninazu’s ordeal. “Besides, it always makes me wonder how long I’d last under the knife.”
“I was put to the torture once,” Grond said. “Just because my master caught me looking at him. Said I wasn’t respectful.”
Eskkar didn’t bother to ask if Grond had screamed. Everyone did.
Again Eskkar wondered what he would do if he were the one being tortured, how well he would stand the pain, or how long it would take before he began to plead for mercy or death. Some men resisted to the last, but most begged for the pain to stop long before the end.
The thought sent a shiver through his frame. In all his days of fighting, he’d only been captured once, and that day death had come close. The memory of being helpless before his enemies still troubled him. Eskkar swore to himself that he would never be taken alive. Better to fall on your own sword than go through that horror.
“If the assault on Bisitun had gone badly, Grond, I might have ended up dead on the cart, and Ninazu might be standing over me.”
“Well, Captain, I would’ve avenged your death. Or at least buried your remains.”
He looked at Grond and had to smile.
They were alone in the house, except for the two sisters huddled in their room, trying to block out the noise from the crowd. Everyone else was outside enjoying the spectacle. The screams from the square seemed almost as loud inside.
Eskkar finished a handful of grapes from the platter.
“Would you like some wine, lord, or something to eat?” Lani had come out of the bedroom.
“You don’t care to watch Ninazu take the torture, Lani?”
“No, lord. I have seen enough of people being tortured. Now that it’s his turn on the wheel, I know what will happen.”
Eskkar looked around the room. “Where is your sister?”
“In our room, her head under the blanket. Tippu cannot watch such things. It sickens her even to hear it.”
Grond stood up. “Perhaps I should go to her, Lani. Do you think it would help?”
Eskkar wondered about Grond and Tippu, and what had happened last night, or not happened, as it seemed. He would ask his bodyguard about it later, when they were alone.
But Lani mentioned it herself. “I think it would be good for her to be with someone besides myself for a little while, at least until this horrible day is over.” She looked at Grond. “Can you restrain yourself as you did last night, for a while longer?”
“When you’ve been a slave, Lani,” Grond answered, “you know what is needed. I’ll just hold her for a while.” He looked at Eskkar. “If I may, Captain?”
Eskkar nodded, surprised at the serious tone of Grond’s voice. The bodyguard left the table and went to the woman’s room. Eskkar looked at Lani for an explanation.
“That’s what he did last night, lord. He held her, and told her she was safe. She cried in his arms for a long time, until she fell asleep. Your bodyguard didn’t take her. Was he a slave in Akkad?”
“No, not in Akkad. He told me that he’d been a slave in the lands to the west, but he never said much about it, only that he escaped. He has the marks of the lash on his back, and even in Akkad, he might have been put back into slavery, except that we needed soldiers to fight the Alur Meriki.”
“But you did not put him back into bondage when the danger passed?
Did not those in the village declare him a runaway slave?”
“I was born a barbarian, Lani. The ways of the village are not always my ways. Besides, he saved my life, more than once. Do you think I could repay him for that by making him a slave again?” He pushed his wine cup toward her, and she took a small sip before handing it back.
“And now you rule the greatest village in the land, so you’re not a barbarian any more, else the villagers would not follow you.”
Eskkar smiled at that. “They’re still having trouble accepting me as their ruler. And I do not rule alone, Lani.”
“It seems even stranger that the nobles of Akkad would accept a woman to rule over them.”
So Lani had heard about Trella’s true role in Akkad. Well, that made things easier. “She was a slave herself, given to me to help manage my household.” He smiled at the thought. “Trella is what my people call a
‘gifted one.’ She sees much, knows the mysteries of farm and village, and understands the ways of men. Without her, I might not even be alive, let alone ruler of Akkad.”
“I heard that she is young, only fifteen seasons. She must be gifted indeed. You must care for her a great deal.”
Eskkar nodded. “More than you can know, Lani. She’s very special to me.
And she carries our child now, the child that will rule in Akkad after us.”
“Then I bless her name. And I will not allow myself to be jealous of your love for her.”
“Don’t be, Lani. It’s because of her that I am here, and that you’re under Akkad’s protection.” He reached across the table and touched her hand. “And yet you are much like her, I think. Your wits are quick, and you understand the ways of men. How old are you, Lani?”
“In the spring, I will have twenty-four seasons, lord. But much of what I have learned is what I would soonest forget.”
Ninazu’s cries of agony rang throughout the square. They’d managed to ignore the noise outside for a few moments. Suddenly the screams ended, cut short, replaced by a loud groan of disappointment and disapproval from the crowd.
“Ninazu must be unconscious, or dead,” Eskkar said. “I’ll go see.”
He went to the doorway, and called to one of the soldiers. In a few moments Eskkar returned to the table and sat down again. “Ninazu is dead, Lani. The torturers were too careless. The villagers think he scarcely suffered.”
Lani bowed her head. “I’m glad he’s dead. My husband’s life has been avenged. Now I can bury him, at least in my thoughts.”
Everyone had to deal with grief and loss in their own way, and Eskkar had already done all he could to help her. “You will not be needed for the rest of the day, Lani. Stay inside, until everything is finished.” He turned away, and went back out into the square.
The crowd regained its voice. With Ninazu dead, the villagers started arguing again. Many wanted all prisoners to be tortured and killed, and Eskkar watched as Sisuthros pounded his sword hilt on the table to shut them up. Before Sisuthros finished reckoning with the rest of Ninazu’s men, the sun passed midday.
The Akkadians had captured thirty-one men, and each one needed to be dealt with individually. Eskkar knew those who had committed the worst misdeeds would make poor slaves. Too ignorant or intractable, they would have to be watched and guarded for the rest of their days, always seeking to escape and more trouble than they were worth. The villagers denounced nine of these, and the council sentenced them to death. Four had committed particularly atrocious acts, and were put to the torture, giving each of them added pain before they died. A quick sword thrust to the heart took care of the others.
Sisuthros condemned those remaining, the ones docile enough to accept their punishment, to slavery, to be branded with the mark of Akkad and to labor for the rest of their lives. He ordered fifteen to be sent to Akkad as soon as possible. Akkad needed laborers more urgently than Bisitun, to work on the expansion of the walls. Corio and his builders would put the extra workers to good use.
Despite Akkad’s need, Eskkar shook his head at the thought of sending the slaves there. Some of his precious soldiers would be needed to guard and transport them, more food would have to be found and sent with them, along with horses, ropes, and everything else needed for at least a week’s march back to Akkad.