A watch fire burned beside the gate, next to a bundle of torches.
Korthac spotted one of his other four men, sitting against the wall, as unnoticed as any beggar. The man raised his right arm in greeting, and Korthac nodded. The signal meant all of the men were ready and in place.
Korthac continued on, noting that only two guards stood at the gate’s entrance, watching to make sure no strangers entered after dusk.
The gathering darkness made it difficult to be certain, yet Korthac counted no more than seven soldiers manning the gate. Usually a detail of ten secured the river gate, but the number varied, and he’d found nights when as few as five walked their post. Taking his time, he climbed the steps to the right-side parapet. One of his guards followed, the one carrying the longest bundle, while the other remained below.
At the top, three soldiers stood guard, looking down toward the docks and those passing in and out through the gate. The gate commander approached Korthac. Orders said that only soldiers could mount the wall, but exceptions might be made, especially for a rich trader who wanted to see the river and didn’t mind parting with a few coins.
“Greetings, Honorable Korthac,” the man said, “how may I help you tonight?”
Korthac had mounted these steps at least once a day for the last few weeks, to offer his prayers to the river god, he’d explained. Each prayer session, always short, ended with a copper coin for the guard.
“Greetings to you and your men,” Korthac answered with a smile.
“Tonight I have to make a special offering to Enki, the river god, to thank him for the favorable cargo he sent me today.” Korthac nodded to his bodyguard, who unslung the sack he’d carried across his shoulder, then turned back to the guard. “Perhaps you can help my servant with the offering?”
The other two guards, curious at this new ritual, moved closer, as the bodyguard knelt to open his bundle. Korthac stepped behind them, hand on his knife. As the blanket came open, Korthac struck, moving so quickly that he’d stabbed the two guards before either could react, and with only the sound of their moans escaping. The watch commander died at the same moment, a stunned look of surprise on his face, as Korthac’s bodyguard snatched up a sword from the sack and drove it into the soldier’s stomach. The man died without even reaching for his sword, and, more important, without sounding the alarm.
Pushing the bodies aside, Korthac reached down and took a short horseman’s bow from his bodyguard’s hand. It took but a moment to string it and nock an arrow, but there was no need. The soldiers guarding the other side of the gate had died, struck down by his Egyptians who’d moved into place just under the steps as their leader mounted. Some of the dead had cried out, but there’d been no loud clash of weapons. Nevertheless, a few citizens looked about in surprise, wondering what had happened, too confused to understand what they’d witnessed.
Korthac didn’t worry about them. All that mattered was that the alarm hadn’t sounded, and by now one of his men had secured the trumpet.
More Egyptians guarded the two lanes leading away from the gate, ready to stop any messenger rushing toward the soldiers’ barracks with a warning. Instead, Korthac leaned out over the wall and waved the bow. He couldn’t see far into the darkness, but he knew his men waited there, close enough to see the signal and would relay it to Takany and Ariamus’s men.
Looking down into the well of the gate, he saw the rest of his men moving into position, taking station just inside the opening, to make sure no one attempted to shut the portal.
From the darkness, he heard the rumble of many sandals approaching and looked back toward the river. The moment Korthac saw his men running toward the gate, he descended the steps. Takany and Nebibi led the first group of men through without stopping. Fifty Egyptians and an equal number of recruits followed him, all moving at a run directly toward the barracks.
Ariamus, leading another forty men, followed them in, pausing only long enough for Korthac and his six Egyptian bodyguards to fall in step beside him. Korthac had belted his sword about him, and strapped on a bronze helmet, both taken from the same bundle that concealed the swords and bow. The invaders jogged steadily, moving fast enough to cover the ground quickly but not too fast to leave the men exhausted.
Korthac’s force of nearly fifty men headed straight toward Eskkar’s house. Korthac needed to capture it and those inside without a major struggle. He’d seen that the house was strongly built. Given enough warning, even a handful of men could hold out there for some time. His con-tingent had farther to go than Takany and those moving to the barracks, which were closer to the river than Eskkar’s house. Hathor would be positioned there, with orders to wait as long as he could before attacking, to let his leader reach his destination.
The alarm sounded while they still had another lane to traverse.
Korthac broke into a run, his men speeding up behind him. He turned into Eskkar’s lane. A torch burned next to the gate, and he saw a knot of men fi ghting. Hathor and his men had orders to keep that gate open. A clamor rose up from behind the courtyard wall, another trumpet sending its warning up into the darkness, overriding the noise and confusion. The clash of bronze on bronze told everyone fighting raged, and inside the compound Eskkar’s soldiers fumbled for their weapons and rushed to close the gate.
Two of Hathor’s men died fighting, but they held it open long enough for Korthac’s men to reach it. Korthac stopped just outside and ordered them in. Ariamus led the way, bursting through the opening, shouting his war cry. Korthac let a dozen men pass through, then followed them in, guarded by the same two bodyguards who helped kill the soldiers at the river gate.
Another torch still burned in the courtyard, lighting the dead bodies scattered about. Two more of Ariamus’s men had died forcing their way in. The rest of Korthac’s Egyptians formed up around him. He hurried along the house wall toward the house. Ariamus had orders to break in if necessary, and two of his men carried hammers and stakes for that purpose. If necessary, they would drive the stakes into the door and wrench the wood apart.
Korthac saw the tools wouldn’t be needed. The thick door stood wide open. Sounds of fighting came from the house, though that noise ended by the time he reached the entrance.
Ariamus, blood on his sword, met him just inside the door. “They’re in the upper rooms. We’ll have to force the door.” Two men pulled hammers from their packs, and rushed toward the stairs.
“Perhaps not. Bring another torch.” Stepping over the dead body of a soldier, Korthac passed inside and ascended the steps, stopping just below the landing. He rapped on the door with the point of his sword. “Lady Trella,” he called out. “Tell your men to open the door. Otherwise we’ll have to break it down and kill everyone inside.”
Shouts answered him, and from behind the door, he heard men arguing.
“Soldiers of Akkad, the house has been taken.” Korthac waited a moment, while the sounds of men cursing sounded through the door. “Lady Trella, tell your men to surrender. Your soldiers are all dead, and more of my men have captured the barracks. There won’t be any help. If you don’t want your followers to die, open the door.”
He let the arguing go on for a few moments. They had no choice. As soon as they realized no one would come to their rescue, they’d surrender.
Korthac’s men filled the courtyard, some already busy looting the soldiers’ quarters. Behind the door, the defenders kept arguing, their voices rising as they shouted at each other. Some wanted to hold out, others wanted to talk.
“Open the door now, Trella. You need my protection for you and the child.”