People of the Tower (Ark Chronicles 4) (23 page)

Only much later did they talk about Nimrod, kingship and the follies of letting a megalomaniac rule them.

5.

The reason for hot bread and continuing jugs of drinkable water came many mornings later
. A shout woke Odin. He drew his torso from the cold slime of his pit, looking up. Lean-limbed Gilgamesh peered down the hole.

“
Would you like a little exercise, Spear Slayer?”

“
I thought you were in Erech governing the people,” Odin said.

Annoyance flickered across Gilgamesh
’s handsome features. “I’m the governor of Erech, that’s true, and I’m also the king’s herald.”

“
The errand boy, you mean. Do you like running hither and yon, wherever your king commands?”

“
I’d rather stay in Babel, if you must know. And for the coming celebration, I will be. Then it’s off again on the king’s errands.”

Odin
rubbed a finger across his chest to clean it of mud and then he scratched his nose. “I’ll trade you places, if you like. I’m always near Babel.”

“
You still haven’t answered my question, Spear Slayer.”

“
Do you have a rope?”

Gilgamesh showed him he did.

“This must be Nimrod’s idea,” muttered Odin. “He likes pulling the wings off flies. You’ll get me to say yes and then laugh at me and leave.”

“
My offer is genuine.”

“
Once I get out I’m supposed to do something for you, is that it?”

“
Of course.”

“
And then it’s back into the hole with me?”

“
That depends,” Gilgamesh said.

“
On my good behavior? On whether I sell my soul to Nimrod?”

“
No. On whether you’re still alive after Nimrod is finished with you.”

A cold feeling swept through
Odin. He felt bitter. A moment later, he shrugged. “Toss the rope. I could use a vacation.”

Gilgamesh threw
one down, instructing Odin to tie it under his armpits. The mud made sucking, slurping sounds and the cord bit into his flesh as he swayed upward. He emerged through the opening.

Odin
blinked at the morning light and laughed as rough hands pulled him the rest of the way up. Babel stood like a small mountain in the distance. Sunlight reflected off the nearby Euphrates. Three chariots were parked to his left, curious donkeys watching him. Men held him as his legs wobbled. He’d forgotten how to lock his knees. Finally, he indicated they could let go.

Their mouths twisted with distaste
. Two of those who had been holding him wiped their hands on the grass. The last used a rag. Odin staggered and then swayed. He delighted in the sweet odor of the outdoors, breathing deeply. He marveled how bright the grass was and beautiful the horizon.

“
You stink and look a mess,” Gilgamesh said, who waved off flies.

Odin
ignored the even greater amount of flies around him as he scraped slime from his body, flinging it from his hands.

“
You’re naked under all that mud,” Gilgamesh said. “We can’t have that for propriety’s sake. Here.”

Odin
first wiped his face and then wrapped the rag around his emaciated waist. “Don’t I get a bath or at least a swim in the Euphrates?”

“
No such luck,” Gilgamesh said. “But give him a drink and then let him eat.”

One of the Mighty Men, a youngster with tattooed cheeks, went to a chariot and lifted a waterskin from the peg.

“A drink, I said,” Gilgamesh said.

Understanding flickered across the warrior
’s features. He drew a small copper flask from his belt pouch and pitched it to Odin.

Odin
caught it and hesitated.

“
Go on, drain it,” Gilgamesh said. “You’ll need it. Believe me.”

Odin
worked out the cork and sniffed the strong brew. “What’s next?”

“
A little exhibition of your skills,” Gilgamesh said.

Odin
lifted his eyebrows. “I’m getting a spear?”

“
Not just a spear, my friend. Gungnir.”

Odin
corked the flask without having sipped and pitched it back to its owner. “I’ll take water if you don’t mind and then that food you talked about.”

“
Hope eternal.” Gilgamesh shook his head. “What fools we are. But I can’t say I fault you. Let him drink.”

Odin
stumbled to the chariot and chugged from the water jug. He debated flinging the jug at the nearest warrior, leaping aboard and trying to drive for freedom.

“
You wouldn’t get far,” Gilgamesh said.

Odin
saw how closely they watched him. “Don’t worry about me,” he said. “It was only a thought.”

Gilgamesh snorted
. “Nor should we worry about being tied to a tree and left for the vultures and crows.”

“
Is that what he threatened you with if I escaped?”

“
It makes no difference what the threat was because you’re not going anywhere.”

Odin
supposed that was true. Still, maybe being cut down by them would be better than anything Nimrod planned.

As if divining his thoughts, Gilgamesh said,
“Hilda will soon be here.”

Giddiness filled
Odin. He hadn’t thought to see her again. “Why is she coming?”

“
I think the king wants to surprise you with it,” Gilgamesh said.

“
Has she…” Odin let the question drop because he refused to think badly of Hilda. Instead, he poured water over his head, washing out mud and filth, and he poured it on his beard. Too much of the grime had impacted into the pores of his skin to allow him to be clean, but at least he looked human again instead of like some earth monster risen from the roots of a tree. One of the warriors handed him several sticks of jerky. He gnawed on the first one, making his loosened teeth ache. He was a shell of his former self. Thin because, like a hibernating bear, he had lived off his accumulated fat.

Gilgamesh frowned, turning away
. He took several steps and then twisted back to face Odin. It seemed he wanted to speak, but he glanced sidelong at the other three.

“
Here they come,” said the young warrior, the one with the tattoos.

Each of them gazed toward Babel,
Odin chewing fast. Dust rose, indicating chariots, a cavalcade of them.

Gilgamesh marched near and clutched him by the arm
. He glanced at the other three. They peered at him curiously. He let go of Odin and backed away, shaking his head. A moment later, he took out a rag and wiped his hand. “I didn’t have anything to do with what’s about to happen. It was all Nimrod’s idea.”

In sick apprehension
, Odin watched the approaching chariots.

“
Shouldn’t we bring him there?” the tattooed youth asked.

Gilgamesh signaled
Odin. “Get in the chariot. You’ll ride with me.”

The ride was short, a place of dirt mounds and many pits dug into the grassy area
. Not pits like his swampy hole, but wide and open to the air, usually fifteen feet deep and thirty feet across. Animal sounds came from several of them. One of the pits had a four-foot high, woven reed fence around it.

The three Mighty Men drew knives, surrounding and prodding
Odin in the back.

“
Escape isn’t an option,” warned Gilgamesh.

Odin
watched the chariots pull in. Nimrod wore armor and Uruk the War Chief rode with him. Canaan came, Hilda—Odin’s throat caught. Hilda! Her hair whipped in the wind and she seemed pale. She wore billowing clothes and her mouth was a firm line of disapproval. As they pulled in and she saw him, she began to tremble.

“
Don’t speak to her,” cautioned Gilgamesh.

“
Why not?” Odin asked.

“
It will be much worse for you if you do.”

The chariots halted
. One by one, the crowd filed toward him. Hilda leaned on her grandfather Canaan’s arm. She looked away and then looked at him. It seemed she wanted to call out, but she looked at Nimrod every time she seemed ready to speak. The Mighty Hunter grinned as of old. His eyes shone as if he’d been drinking.

“
Hilda!” shouted Odin.

One of the warriors kneed him from behind
. He crumpled to the grass.

Laughter rippled from Nimrod
’s crowd.

Anger swept away the terror
. Odin rose, realizing he had learned nothing in the Well of Knowledge, at least nothing about controlling his rage.

“
Odin the Traitor,” Nimrod said, striding to him, with Uruk on his heels. The War Chief carried a huge figure-eight-shaped shield. They weren’t taking any chances with him. Nimrod sneered, saying, “Bring him.”

The three warriors grabbed
Odin by the arms, hustling him after Nimrod and Uruk. Gilgamesh hung back, his face a mask. They marched Odin to one of the pits.

Three snarling wolves looked up, shaggy, starved-looking creatures.

More Mighty Men took up position, hefting big shields like the War Chief. Canaan and Hilda stood behind them.

“
Give him his spear,” Nimrod said.

Gingerly, from behind the shield wall, a man handed the spear point
-first to Odin. As he stood on the edge of the wolf pit, Odin took it, realizing with a shock that it was indeed Gungnir.

“
Hilda,” he said, grinning, hefting his spear. The warriors did him the honor of looking worried, shifting uneasily.

“
If you use it on them, she dies,” Nimrod said.

Odin
spun around. Nimrod and Uruk stood on the other side of the pit.

“
What’s this all about?” Odin asked. He was surprised they feared him. He was a stick, a joke of what he’d once been.

Nimrod glanced at the wolves and then back to him
. “Jump into the pit.”

“
No!” Hilda shouted. “Don’t do it, Odin.”

“
Ah,” Nimrod said, gracing her with a glance. “This is interesting. You speak to him.”

She paled and shook her head.

“You know what that means,” Nimrod said.

“
No, no,” she said. “You mustn’t.”

“
You know how to insure it doesn’t happen, my dear,” Nimrod said.

She bit her lip, blinking back tears.

“Whatever he wants out of you, Hilda,” Odin shouted, “don’t give in, ever.”

“
Poor advice,” Nimrod said. “Now jump in as you value her life.”

Odin
eyed the pit floor fifteen feet down. Even if he’d been in the best of shape, it would have been a chancy thing. Then one of the men of the shield wall pushed him.

Hilda screamed
. Odin lost his balance. The wolves snarled, scrambling out of the way. One of them wasn’t fast enough. Odin fell on it so it yelped and broke his fall. The other two leapt from him. Groggy and surprised, he realized he still held Gungnir. He wobbled upright and the two wolves took to snarling. He lunged, stumbling because he wasn’t used to this and his thigh giving way because it had so little strength. He thrust his arms, stretching to reach, killing the nearest wolf. The other backed away, its hackles raised. He yanked his spear free and staggered against a dirt wall, panting, watching and judging his chances. He trembled uncontrollably, whether from lack of food or fear he didn’t know. He pushed off the wall, and soon the third wolf lay dead at his feet.

Still shaking, almost vomiting the sticks of jerky,
Odin looked up. The others with their big shields crowded around the pit, with Hilda and Canaan looking over their shoulders.

“
That was a dirty trick,” Odin said.

“
Hand up the spear,” Nimrod said, his grin now frozen in place.

For an instant
, Odin debated hurling it at the handsome face. Yet he wasn’t suicidal, at least not yet. So he poked it up. Gilgamesh took it. A rope ladder uncurled and Odin climbed out.

To the side
, Nimrod spoke earnestly with Hilda. She had a knuckle in her mouth.

“
What’s he saying?” whispered Odin.

Gilgamesh shook his head.

“You don’t know or you won’t say?” Odin asked.

“
Won’t say,” Gilgamesh said.

“
Very well,” Nimrod said loudly. “Bring him along.”

The shield wall moved behind the Spear Slayer, leaving only one way to go
. Odin took it and soon he stood at a similar pit, except this one had the four-foot fence. Below, prowling back and forth, was a young male lion. Its ribs showed. The lion coughed and angrily swished its tail.