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said.
    “Yes, after fighting the barbarians, a few bandits shouldn’t present any problems,” Eskkar said. “And once we’ve taken control of the land around Bisitun, the countryside should start settling down.”
    “I hope they brew some decent ale in Bisitun,” Grond said. “I’m thirsty already.”
    “They do,” Eskkar said with a laugh. “Just don’t try and drink it all.”
    18
    SAM BARONE
    The soldiers made good time that first day, the men glad to stretch their legs, out of the city and into the fresh air that already bore a hint of the autumn’s coming coolness. By the time they made their first camp, Eskkar relaxed enough to smile and joke with his men, enjoying the freedom of the trail and putting all thoughts of Akkad and its intrigues behind him.
    In his heart, he felt glad to be away, free to be himself without worrying about what some merchant or tradesman would think about him.
    For the last few months, he’d struggled with his changing role. No longer merely a soldier defending the village, Eskkar now had to rule nearly three thousand people, all of them demanding immediate attention to their particular problem. Nothing in his years of wandering had prepared him for such responsibility. Even with Trella’s help, the weight of constant decision-making strained his patience. Unlike the preparation for the siege, when he could just make military decisions, now every conflict-ing claim seemed to require endless hours of discussion, which invariably turned into arguing and complaining that left neither side satisfied.
    Eskkar had believed he could deal with his new position, but in the last few weeks, doubt had crept in, and he found himself growing more and more irritable and short-tempered. And that, he realized, made dealing with everyone even more difficult. So he felt glad to put down that mantle, even temporarily, and deal with something familiar—like ridding the land of thieves and murderers.
    Out here in the countryside, among his men, he could be a soldier once again. That satisfaction, combined with the fresh air, the rough-cooked food, and the tiredness from walking and riding all day, let him enjoy a good night’s sleep for the first time in weeks.
    The next morning Eskkar rose before dawn, happy that his body remembered the old ways. He demanded the soldiers be on their way an hour after sunup, and threatened to leave anyone and anything behind that wasn’t ready. The men had scarcely enough time to eat a hasty meal, care for the animals, and pack their goods before the march resumed. Almost immediately, complaints of sore feet and tired muscles rang out as they continued their way north, still following the east bank of the great river Tigris.
    Today Eskkar ranged ahead of the main group, accompanied by Grond and six of his horsemen. They rode more toward the east, away from the river and into the countryside. Eskkar wanted to see for himself the devastation the barbarians had caused. Everywhere the scattered homes and fields lay barren, the crops burned. The grass had just started Empire Rising
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    to return, having first been burnt by the villagers to deny food and fod-der to the approaching enemy, and then the fresh growth overgrazed by the barbarian herds. This winter’s harvest would be small. Still, the farmers considered themselves fortunate. At least they’d have a chance to get enough of the precious and carefully preserved seeds planted in time for next season.
    As they rode farther to the northeast the farms grew smaller and more isolated, and they encountered fewer people. Many fled at the sight of them. Others stood their ground, hands clenched nervously on crude weapons or farm tools. When they learned who Eskkar was, and that he meant them no harm, they relaxed their vigilance. From these farmers he learned that the small village of Dilgarth, now only a few dozen miles ahead, had in fact been captured by bandits more than a week ago. The tales of Dilgarth’s