“You are my slave, Trella, for as long as I choose to let you live, and you will address me as ‘lord.’ Do you understand?”
Her hand went to her cheek, and she nodded. “Yes… lord.”
Annok-sur stepped into the workroom, but Korthac whirled to face her. “I did not give you leave to move about.” He turned to Ariamus. “Kill her if she leaves the bedroom.”
“Stay inside, Annok-sur,” Trella said, “don’t let…”
Korthac turned back to her. “You do not give orders to anyone any longer.” He struck her again, harder this time; blood dripped from her mouth and she slipped to her knees, as much from the blow as his order to kneel. “If you speak out of turn again, if you fail to obey the least of my orders, I’ll have the child cut from your body and tossed into the fire.”
He smiled as she moved herself upright, but remained on her knees.
For a moment he was tempted to have her pleasure him right then and there. It would be fitting humiliation for her, in front of a roomful of strangers. But such things could wait, and he felt too tired to enjoy it properly. Besides, every day that passed would add to her embarrassment.
“Keep her in these rooms. The door is to remain open. She is to see no one, speak to no one. If she complains or gives you any trouble, kill her servants in front of her, one by one, starting with Annok-sur.”
Looking down at her, he noticed the thin strand of leather hanging around her neck. He pulled it toward him, lifting a gold coin up from between her breasts. “You’ll have no need for gold any more, Lady Trella.”
With a quick jerk, he snapped the leather, then raised the coin to his eyes.
It was simply a common coin, one with Nicar’s mark on it, and a thin groove. Korthac tossed the coin to one of his men. It pleased him to take it from her. Obviously the coin meant something special to her, and now it, too, was gone. She’d learn soon enough that she had nothing, was nothing.
He reached out and ran his fingers through Trella’s hair, enjoying its texture. Gradually he tightened his grip until her head twisted upward, the hair pulled back from her face, her eyes wide with distress. When she started to gasp from the pain, he relaxed his hand, then gently brushed the few loose strands from her eyes. Yes, she’d give him plenty of pleasure before he finished with her.
Trella sat on the bed, trying to think. In less than a day, Korthac had seized Akkad and established himself as the city’s ruler. He’d killed, captured, or driven into hiding Akkad’s mighty archers. She’d become a prisoner, worse, a slave, only this time she had a child due in a few weeks.
The last word from Eskkar had come three days ago, informing her yet again that he intended to remain in the north a little longer.
Her fists clenched in anger, furious at her husband for taking his pleasures in Bisitun, while Akkad and she fell into Korthac’s hands. How dare he leave her like this. He should have returned weeks ago to protect her. She wanted to… no, she needed Eskkar, needed him to save her and their unborn child. The thought that he might abandon them to their fate, turn away from her and Akkad, frightened her. She thought about his new woman, and that image made her rage increase. Perhaps he’d choose a fresh life with his new concubine, choose to avoid a fight and continue his life in the north. That image tortured her for a long moment, until she regained control of her emotions.
No, she decided. Eskkar would not abandon her. If for no other reason than his barbarian code of honor, he would return to destroy Korthac for what he’d done. If he still lived. Trella shook her head. Without him, if he were dead, there would be no hope to escape the fate that Korthac planned for her and the child. She had to believe that he remained alive, that he would come for her. She could cling to that.
“We must get word to Eskkar,” Trella whispered to Annok-sur, seated beside her. “He’ll need to know how strong a force Korthac has assembled.”
“Don’t forget, Bantor is due any day. Together they’ll…”
“Korthac isn’t afraid of Eskkar or Bantor, Annok-sur. Did you see how many men he has? I counted as many as I could when they took me to the gate. He must have at least a hundred and fifty, maybe two hundred. More than enough to control the city and stop anyone from rising up against him. Only Eskkar can rally the people to resist.”
“Assuming that he’s still alive,” Annok-sur said.
“He has to be alive, or we’re all lost,” Trella said. “Besides, how could they kill him up in Bisitun, guarded by Grond and surrounded by his men?”
“Both Korthac and Ariamus said Eskkar is dead.”
“Do you believe them? They offered no proof.”
Her own question made Trella stop and think. Proof would be Eskkar’s head, or a dozen witnesses to his death. She took her time, trying to recall the Egyptian’s exact words, and comparing them to those she’d overheard from the boasting Ariamus. Korthac had claimed his men had struck down Eskkar in Bisitun’s lanes, but Ariamus said Eskkar and his men had been killed in a fight. The slight difference might not mean much, but she needed something to give her hope.
“Korthac knows Bantor is returning,” Trella said, her mind beginning to think clearly once again. “Ariamus has taken every horse he could find and ridden south. They’ll meet Bantor’s men on the road, long before they arrive here.”
“Bantor has plenty of men, trained men. They won’t be easy to defeat.”
Trella shook her head. “No, Korthac must have some plan in mind.
If Bantor’s force is defeated, even driven off, Korthac can turn his full attention to the north. He’s defeating Eskkar’s forces piece by piece. That’s his plan.” She reached out and took Annok-sur’s hand. “I fear for your husband.”
“Ariamus will find killing Bantor harder than he thinks. Bantor hates the man since… from the old days, when he was captain of the guard.”
She put her arm around Trella. “And Eskkar isn’t easy to stop, either.”
“I wanted Eskkar back here, but now… it’s better that he remains up north. He might be safer there.”
Both women stayed silent for a moment. Their hopes for survival depended on their husbands living long enough to rescue them.
“Is there anything we can do, Trella? I mean, can we kill Korthac somehow?”
“Even if we could, his Egyptians would cut us to pieces, then slaughter half the city. And I saw his face. He’ll use any pretext to beat me, but he’s looking for an excuse to kill you, to keep me in fear of him. You must not give him any reason. No matter what he does to me, keep still. Don’t provoke him. I need you to stay alive. Promise me that.”
“You know what he’ll do to you. He’ll want to show everyone in Akkad that you belong to him now, that you’re nothing more than his slave.”
Trella touched her swollen face, still feeling the sting in her cheek from where Korthac struck her. “Whatever Korthac wants, we’ll do. We need to stay alive, at least for now. In a few days, if we find everything is hopeless, then I’ll try to kill him.”
“He’ll use the child to control you.”
“The child will have to die. I know that. He’ll want no reminder of Eskkar or me left alive.” She shook her head at the thought. “I’ll kill the babe myself, if it comes to that.”
Trella reached out and took Annok-sur’s hand. “You’ll die as well. He surely knows what role you played in gathering information. As soon as he thinks he’s secure, then we’ll no longer be needed.” Trella shrugged.
“I have the birthing knife, Trella, if it comes to that. Though I prefer trying to slit his throat with it.”
During the confusion, Trella had seen Annok-sur slip the small knife inside the lamp. But the tiny implement, a special gift from Drusala, and meant to be used to cut the umbilical cord, had a blade no longer than Trella’s finger.
“It’s not much of a weapon against Korthac,” Trella said, “although it may serve to end our own lives. Keep the knife safe, Annok-sur. We may have to use it on ourselves. Until that day, we obey our new master. We must stay alive, for the child’s sake, if nothing else, and to give Eskkar time to gather his forces. As long as we obey Korthac instantly, as long as he thinks we’re of use to him, he’ll keep us alive for a little while longer.”