“Is he alright?”
She shook her head. “No, nothing like that. Come upstairs where we can speak in private.”
So it was serious. Eskkar followed her into the house. Inside, he noticed the suddenly somber expressions on the faces of their personal servants. Those who spent their days within the residence would, of course, know all about the problem, whatever it was. Servants always knew about such things, usually before the master or mistress.
In their quiet chamber, Trella closed the door. She went to the table, where servants had placed fresh food and drink. Two thick candles already burned, lighting the room and holding dusk at bay.
“Sit, husband. You must be tired.” She picked up the wine pitcher, and half-filled a cup, adding water to weaken the strong drink.
Eskkar ignored his usual chair and instead slumped onto the long bench, covered by a soft blanket, and stretched out his long legs. It was a bad sign when Trella poured his wine.
“What trouble has Sargon gotten himself into this time?” The question wasn’t an idle one. He knew it must be something important for Trella to bring it up at once.
“Corio will be here shortly, demanding to see you. One of his daughters, Sestana, she has thirteen seasons and was just initiated into the rites of the women. She was. . injured by Sargon.”
His fist tightened on the cup and he took a long sip from the cup. “What happened?”
Eskkar was well acquainted with another of Corio’s daughters, Ismenne, who visited the Compound each day to work with Trella and the other commanders in the Map Room. But the master builder had sired many children from his two bountiful wives, and Eskkar couldn’t recall a face to match the name Sestana.
Trella slipped into the chair beside the bench, and took Eskkar’s hand. “Sargon and Ziusudra were visiting at Corio’s house, to spend some time with one of his sons.”
The last of Eskkar’s good mood vanished. He straightened up and set the wine cup down so hard that the table shook, and a splash of red splattered across the wood.
“I ordered Sargon not to have anything to do with Ziusudra,” he said. “I told him. .”
“I know, husband. You must stay calm.” She tightened her grip on his hand. “Sargon had slipped away from his teacher and gone to visit Ziusudra. They spent a good part of the morning drinking wine, before heading to Corio’s. They had more wine there, with Corio’s boy. The house was nearly empty, except for a few servants. Somehow they encountered Sestana and she joined them. They offered her wine, and I think she drank some. Then Ziusudra and Sargon tried to force themselves on Sestana.”
“Damn that Ziusudra.” Even the boy’s name grated on Eskkar’s nerves.
Trella continued the story. “Sestana struggled, and. . one of them struck her, and split her lip. Her clothing was torn, but she resisted. When a serving woman arrived, summoned by the commotion, she saw Sargon straddling the girl, holding his hand over her mouth. At the same time, Ziusudra held her shoulders down.”
Eskkar gulped the rest of his wine. “He raped her.” The words sounded harsh in the quiet of their chamber. Not just the chamber, he realized. The whole house had gone silent, aware of what was happening in the upper chamber.
Trella shook her head. “No, Sargon hadn’t quite reached that point. The housekeeper screamed so loud that the guard at the front door ran inside. By the time he arrived, Ziusudra and Sargon were leaving. The guard recognized Sargon, of course, but didn’t think to stop him. So the guard waited there with Sestana and the housekeeper. By then, both of them were screaming. They sent for the girl’s mother, and she and Corio arrived together.”
“I’ve told him, ordered him countless times to stay away from Ziusudra.” Eskkar’s voice held a hard edge. “He’s nothing but a worthless fool.”
“I know.”
Neither of them had to say anything else about that. Ziusudra, a year or so older than Sargon’s fourteen seasons, was Akkad’s leading mischief maker. Handsome and daring, he’d been involved in every kind of trouble and prank imaginable.
His father, a wealthy merchant named Ningal, doted on his only son. Money, clothes, jewels, Ziusudra possessed them all, and displayed them at every opportunity. Girls and even women old enough to know better looked with favor on his handsome face and golden hair. Nearly every boy in Akkad idolized him, including Sargon.
“Where is Sargon?”
“He’s in the guard’s quarters, probably sleeping off the effects of the wine. I ordered the commander of the Hawk Clan guards to keep him there.”
Sargon’s chamber, which he shared with his younger brother, Melkorak, was on the main floor. Their sister Zakita, two seasons younger than Sargon, had another room, one she shared with the matron who attended her. Just across the courtyard from the main structure was a row of small rooms, used by the Hawk Clan to quarter some of the Compound’s guards, or serve as visitor’s lodgings.
“And the girl. . Sestana? Are you sure he didn’t rape her?”
“Corio’s wife examined her. Aside from a cut lip and a bump on her head, she’s unhurt. Frightened, of course. Still, this incident will reflect on her reputation and hopes for a good marriage. Otherwise, I’m sure she’ll be fine in a day or so.”
Eskkar’s first thought was that any maiden who allowed herself to cavort with men unsupervised should suffer a serious stain on her reputation. It could have been worse.
His second thought was to go downstairs and have the boy whipped. Raping a virgin, according to Akkad’s laws, was punishable by death. Trella and the King’s Justice, Nicar, had written the law only a few years ago. Attempted rape, including injuring a young woman in the process, would be almost as bad.
“Corio can insist Sargon be punished. He can demand. .”
“I spoke briefly to Corio, Husband. Of course he wants to see you. The blood is still hot in his veins, but he will calm down by tomorrow. By then he will not want to press this matter too hard. In a few days, Sargon can apologize. Perhaps I can convince Corio to accept some payment as restitution.”
“No, don’t insult him. Corio has no need of gold.” As Akkad’s Master Builder and the man who built the walls that saved the city, Corio possessed more wealth than most of the city’s merchants and traders. “His honor will demand more.”
“He values your friendship, Eskkar. He will not want to lose that.”
“There is friendship, and there is blood.” He stared at her. “How would you feel if one of his sons did this to Zakita? Would you accept a few gold coins to satisfy her honor?”
“No, my husband, I would not.” She pressed his hand again, then released it. “I agree something must be done with Sargon. This wildness must end. He could have been killed by Corio’s bodyguards.”
Eskkar bit back the words that nearly reached his lips. Better if the boy had died. No father should ever wish for such a thing. Still, for more than a year, Sargon had brought them nothing but trouble. Willful, disobedient, lazy, and now taken to drinking wine and ale early in the day, with others just as wild and shiftless as himself.
“Then it will end.” Eskkar pushed himself to his feet and went to the door. Out on the landing, he called down to the guard and ordered Sargon brought to the upper chamber.
Back inside the Workroom, Eskkar turned to Trella. “What do you think I should do?”
“All day I have been thinking about what to say when you asked that question. My heart says to forgive him. But as your eldest son and the heir to the Kingdom of Akkad, Sargon is bringing disgrace to our family. Until today, the people have smiled at his foolishness. Now many will think he is dangerous, and likely to bring the wrath of the gods down on their city. As leaders of Akkad, we cannot allow such thoughts to grow in their minds. If they believe we are too weak to control our son and their future king, then they will soon think as little of us as they do of Sargon. When that happens, they will look to others to take our place.”