“One of my sons is more clerk than artisan,” Corio offered. “He can’t plumb a line to save his life. Any house he builds is certain to fall down sooner or later. But he knows the symbols, and might prefer such an apprenticeship. It would be far better for the boy to be a scribe than a builder.”
“The people trust you, Nicar,” Trella went on. “And the chance to establish a new House, one of your own choosing, accepting only the best and most honest of our people. You would be honored by all.”
“Accept the honor, Nicar,” Corio added. “The other nobles will rely on you to treat them fairly.”
“What would this new position be called?” Nicar asked with a sigh, looking as if he might be tempted in spite of his usual caution.
“I’m not sure,” Trella answered. “Since you’d have to determine the truthfulness of what men say and do, it seemed to me that the title of
‘judge’ would be appropriate. Akkad’s chief judge would be accountable only to Eskkar. He and I believe it is one of the most important duties of a ruler to give just decisions in resolving disputes. You know how much Akkad needs such an office, and who better to fill it.”
“Chief judge of the City of Akkad,” Corio said. “Sounds impressive, doesn’t it?”
It did indeed, Trella agreed. In a few months, certainly less than a year, the title would change to “The lord’s judge,” or even “The king’s judge.”
The title of “king” meant ruler of all the land, one blessed by the gods and dispensing their favor. It had never been used in these lands, but the word
“king” could wait a little longer, until the people grew ready to accept it.
“Say yes, Nicar,” she pleaded, touching his hand with her own. “Your name will be remembered forever in Akkad. And think of all the good you can do.”
He looked from one to the other, and lifted his hands in surrender.
“When do you wish me to begin?”
“Put your affairs in order. In a week or so, we can begin figuring out what will be needed.”
“I thought I would be getting some rest in my old age, Trella. Now you’ll have me working from dawn to dusk.”
Longer than that, Trella thought. “Noble Nicar, I believe this will be as good for you as for the city. We’ll have much to discuss, but we can start whenever you’re ready.”
“Since that’s settled, can we get on with the feast?” Corio’s tone made Nicar and Trella laugh. “I can hear my granddaughter squealing with de-light even from here.”
“Yes, I want to greet your wife and children,” Trella said. “Perhaps I can find some extra treats for them. My thanks to you both.”
When the two men left, Trella felt pleased that one of the day’s more important items had been concluded. Nicar’s honesty would reflect favorably on Eskkar’s personal code of justice. The nobles would grumble and complain about losing more of their privileges, but they would see the benefits to themselves soon enough. And they might even believe they could influence Nicar’s judgments, but she knew her former owner better than that.
No, she’d moved Akkad another step forward, this time using the nobles’ self-interest to solidify and strengthen Eskkar’s rule. Eventually the people would come to trust Lord Eskkar’s arbiter of the laws, and, until then, they could appeal to Eskkar if they believed themselves treated unjustly. The more they trusted Eskkar and herself, the more they relied on their leaders, the safer her unborn child would be. In time, the people would accept her son as their ruler without hesitation.
Assuming, of course, that she carried a male child. If she delivered a baby girl, then she would have to get pregnant again, as soon as possible.
Eskkar needed an heir to carry on his line, just as Akkad needed that same heir for stability, to know that in the coming years, Eskkar’s son, his inheritor, would be there to protect and defend them and their families.
The child’s safety had become even more important than her own.
Trella remembered all too well how she had changed from a noble’s daughter to a slave-trader’s property in a single night. Such a fate must never happen to Eskkar’s sons and daughters. To protect her firstborn, she would change the customs of Akkad to ensure the people felt safe and secure under Eskkar’s rule. Nothing would stand in her way, not the nobles, not the wealthy merchants, not even the soldiers. All of them must bow to Eskkar’s rule, and to her design for building a mighty city.
Patting her stomach to soothe the babe, she followed Nicar and Corio to the door. At the landing, she caught Annok-sur’s eye, and nodded.
With the issue of drafting new laws resolved, only two more items remained before she could enjoy the feast: her separate meetings with Gatus and then Korthac.
A few moments later, Gatus entered the workroom, closing the door behind him.
“What is it, Trella,” he asked. “Is anything wrong?”
“I’m sure it’s nothing, Gatus,” she said, but her face remained serious as she took her seat across from the soldier. “I know your messengers returned this morning, and I wanted a word with you before the feast gets under way.”
At her urging, Gatus had sent a few riders out to check on the two regular patrols guarding Akkad. The patrols rode a gradual circle around the city, returning every five or six days. He’d instructed the messengers to make contact with each patrol. Afterward, the messengers would then ride a great arc to the east and south, looking for any unrest.
“So, is everything in the countryside as it should be? How far did your riders go?”
“The patrols are about forty miles from here, one to the east and the other to the south. They say there’s little trouble anywhere, especially since Eskkar went north. Even the bandits in the west and south seem to have drifted away. Perhaps they heard what happened at Bisitun, and took the lesson to heart.”
“Perhaps. But I’m still troubled by Korthac. We’ve learned little more than what he told us himself that first day we met. The women have failed to learn anything, and even Tammuz and his customers haven’t found a way to get inside his rooms.”
“Maybe there’s nothing to learn,” Gatus said. “Just because he keeps control of his men doesn’t make him dangerous.”
“His treatment of his men is what concerns me. They stay inside, away from women. They don’t gamble in the marketplace, drink in the alehouses, or visit the prostitutes on the river.”
“So he’s a hard taskmaster, but there have been no fights, no thefts. He said he didn’t want them running about until they’d learned the language and customs. They’ve only been here a month or so.”
“Actually, it’s been nearly two months. But I suppose you’re right.”
Trella wasn’t convinced, but she had no facts to argue with Gatus. “Still, I want to be sure the countryside is secure.”
“It’s quieter than it’s ever been. With Eskkar up north, and Bantor following the Alur Meriki to the southeast, the countryside has been swept clean of bandits. Even the lands west of the river are peaceful, and they were mostly untouched by the barbarians. There’s never been much there except isolated farms. Have you heard anything different along the river?”
Each day, boats arrived and departed Akkad, heading for the villages downriver, some going as far as Sumeria and the great ocean.
“No, the villages on the Tigris seem peaceful enough. The boat captains report no unrest, and fewer bandits and pirates than they’re used to seeing.”
Gatus shrugged. “Well, what does it matter? When Eskkar returns in a few weeks, he’ll bring back at least another thirty soldiers, as well as new recruits eager to join Akkad’s soldiers.”
Trella and Gatus had both spoken to Eskkar’s messenger. He’d arrived from Bisitun this morning, bringing news that Eskkar intended to remain up north at least another two or three weeks.
“He seems pleased with his new woman,” Trella said.
Gatus looked down at the floor, and shrugged. “Nothing for you to concern yourself about, Trella. And it’s important that Bisitun be well secured. I’m sure he’ll be back soon enough.”