“Another fine day,” Korthac said, glancing up first at the bright blue sky and then shifting his gaze to his still-tired subcommander. When Hathor and Nebibi had returned to Akkad the night before, both men reported to Korthac on Ariamus’s activities. Nevertheless, ever cautious, Korthac wanted to hear it again, in more detail. His plan required careful timing, and events had to unfold on schedule to avoid failure.
“Yes, lord,” Hathor said, his ever-vigilant eyes searching for danger as they walked.
They entered the marketplace, already crowded with buyers and sellers, some still arriving from the nearby farms. The most industrious rose well before dawn, to occupy the more advantageous locations in the square.
Those who had farther to travel would continue to arrive for the next few hours. Nearly all of the local farmers sold their crops and animals in the morning, and started returning to their homes an hour or so after midday.
Those farther away usually faced a long day, selling their goods to the boat captains visiting the city; unfortunately, many of the boats didn’t arrive until well into the afternoon.
Korthac stepped with care, watching not only where he placed his feet, but also the jostling crowd. A man could get bumped by a basket of fruit, or run over by a squealing cart laden with produce. Each day required charting a different path through the market, the result of constantly changing stalls, squealing animals, even buyers and sellers. The city’s local craftsmen, who usually sold their leather, tools, clay pots, and some bronze tools and bowls every day, had to take whatever space they could find, fitting themselves between farmers’ carts bearing fruit or vegetables, or cages of chickens. Raucous noise filled the square, with men trying to attract customers competing with frightened animals in cages or tethered to anything solid.
Today only a few slave traders congregated at their usual corner of the marketplace. A scarce and unpredictable market, the slavers always attracted a good deal of attention from the crowd. Sellers paraded their wares, mostly women or young girls, shouting out their abilities and boasting of their skills. Some of the slaves promoted themselves, eager to find a good master and earn their keep and find a secure place to live in Akkad.
In many cases, parents sold their unneeded children, amid much crying and tears as fathers clutched a few coins and watched as their sons or daughters became the property of someone else. Dozens of gawkers, idlers, or even people just passing through, stopped and listened, always interested in the buying and selling of human flesh.
In Egypt, Korthac recalled, the slavers’ market operated in much the same manner, except the snap of the whip echoed out over the slaves’ cries more often. Here, a steward or head of a household watched the slaves, and little force or punishment was needed. Indeed, Korthac had been surprised to find that most of those in Akkad’s slave market offered themselves for sale, hoping to find an easier life than whatever one they’d left behind on the farm or in some remote village. Even parents selling their children hoped their child would fi nd a better life as a slave to some well-off merchant or craftsman in the growing city. Selling a daughter was less painful, since there was little difference between a slave and a wife; both obeyed someone else for the rest of their lives.
Thieves and bandits made up the last group of slaves, and these were watched and guarded more carefully. Ordered into slavery for their crimes, they knew the life they faced; they’d labor hard for the rest of their lives.
And if any slaves ran away, Akkad’s soldiers would hunt them down and bring them back. Apparently, so Korthac understood, Eskkar himself had fulfilled that menial role not so long ago. A slave hunter who now thought he ruled a city.
But not for much longer, Korthac knew. Hathor’s latest report told of steady progress by Ariamus and Takany. The number of men and horses under Korthac’s command increased steadily, and soon they would be put to use.
The crowds thinned as Korthac and Hathor cleared the marketplace, and soon they passed out of the river gate. Activity at the docks varied each day, as boat captains arrived and departed, some making more than one trip a day, others passing through Akkad and going up or down the great river on longer voyages.
Korthac reached his chosen place of business, close enough to the docks to see every arrival, but far enough away to avoid being trampled underfoot by those loading or unloading goods. Other gem traders sold in the marketplace, but Korthac needed a quieter place to run his business, away from the mob of gawkers who didn’t have two coppers to rub together. Since he sold only high-quality gems, serious buyers soon learned where to find him. At least this morning Korthac wouldn’t have to wait for his hired man to arrive and set out his stall. For a copper coin each day, a carpenter living just inside the gate agreed to store Korthac’s narrow table, three-legged stool, and awning pole safely each night, and return it first thing in the morning.
Today everything was in place, and the carpenter stood there, grinning and waiting for his coin. Hathor handed it over while Korthac took his seat on the stool. He could have had his guards carry the load each day from and to the house, but Korthac decided that would make him a figure of fun, a rich man who traveled throughout the city with two guards carrying his makeshift stall.
Once paid, the man rushed off, eager to be about his own trade, without a word of thanks to either Hathor or Korthac. Not that Korthac really cared about words of gratitude; he intended to cut the man’s ears off as soon as he took power.
Korthac settled in for another day of sham trading. As usual, he sent one of the guards to take a place near the gate, with orders to look for anyone who might be taking too much interest in Korthac’s table. The other guard stood a few paces away, hand on his sword and watching everyone that passed to and fro.
Meanwhile, Korthac took his seat on the stool, sharing his morning meal of bread and hard cheese with his subcommander. Gem buyers and sellers seldom did business so early, and by now Korthac and his table attracted no more attention than any other dockside trader. He let Hathor take his time retelling his observations and conversations at Ariamus’s camp, speaking between bites, as he related everything he had seen and heard. Both men spoke in Egyptian, and kept their voices low.
“So, Ariamus will be ready,” Korthac said, when Hathor finished up.
“Yes, lord. He may have to sweep the land for the last ten or twenty horses, but by then it won’t matter.”
“And the men you brought back with you? Will they do?”
“I was with Ariamus when he chose them, lord. I tested their skills with the sword myself. They’re all experienced fighters, quick and more than competent. For that much gold, they’ll kill anyone.”
Korthac wanted to speak to them himself, but that would be too dangerous. The four men had spent the night at a small inn only a few paces down the lane from Korthac’s house, with Nebibi keeping an eye on them, to make sure they saw no one and kept their mouths shut.
“Good. Give them their gold, and get them out of the city before noon. And tell them there will be an extra ten gold coins each when they succeed.”
Surprise showed on Hathor’s face. “That much gold… they’ve already agreed to the price.”
“I want to make sure they finish the job. I don’t want them getting up to Bisitun and deciding it’s too dangerous. Besides, there will be plenty of gold to pay them with by the time they get back.” Korthac smiled at the thought. “And tell them if they fail, I’ll offer the same gold to others to hunt them down and bring me their heads. That should help stiffen their nerve.”
“I’ll send them out of the city one by one,” Hathor suggested. “They’ll be less likely to attract attention that way. They need to buy one new horse, to replace the one that went lame.”