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carried a pail of clean sand to dump over the urine-soaked dirt. They all worked quietly, not wanting to disturb their leader.
    By the time they finished, Sisuthros entered, followed by one of the camp boys and two women from the village, carrying platters with some dried meat, bread, and dates, as well as a crude carved goblet containing wine.
    The food and wine came from Akkad; the bandits had taken what little food remained in Dilgarth when they left.
    Eskkar looked up as one of the women placed the food in front of him. “I want these bandits dead, Sisuthros.”
    “They’re probably already gone, Captain,” Sisuthros answered cautiously. He had heard that tone of voice before and knew what it meant.
    “They’ve no reason to hang around here. The place is stripped bare. There isn’t even any more food to be had. And the women . . .” He shrugged.
    Eskkar’s second in command was a sturdy young man of twenty-three seasons, seven seasons younger than his commander, but he had fought his 26
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    way through the long campaign against the Alur Meriki and had earned the men’s respect. More important, Sisuthros had a good head on his shoulders. Eskkar planned to leave him in charge when they reached their destination farther north, the village of Bisitun.
    “They’ll be back,” Eskkar said quietly. “There’re still some vegetables in the fields and they’ll want to take some villagers with them as slaves, either to use or to sell, before they abandon this place. They left here only minutes before we arrived. They didn’t even take any of the women.”
    “They seem to know our plans well enough,” Sisuthros said. “They probably guessed we don’t want to stay here. We could leave enough men behind to protect the village, at least for a while.”
    “If we leave men behind, we’ll have to leave some horses as well,”
    Grond argued. “And we don’t have enough horses as it is.”
    A shortage of horseflesh had plagued Eskkar even before the siege of Akkad began.
    “Nor do we know how many men to leave behind.” Eskkar took a sip from the wine cup. “If we leave too few, they could be overrun.” He shook his head. “No, I don’t want to waste time and men defending Dilgarth. I want these bandits dead when they return from the east.”
    “Why east, Captain?” Grond asked, “Why not north, or south?”
    “They can’t cross the river here, not without boats. It’s too wide.
    They can’t enter Akkad. Gatus would seize any force of well-mounted and armed men loaded with loot, so they won’t go south. And we’re moving north, so they won’t like having a large force of men following behind them. That leaves east, the land that the barbarians stripped bare. If they’re heading that way, even for a few days, they’ll need to get as much food, loot, and slaves as they can carry.”
    Neither man said anything, which merely meant they didn’t see any immediate fl aw in his logic. Eskkar had established certain rules of command, and one of these insisted that his subcommanders speak up freely regarding his plans and ideas. It was another of the many painful lessons Eskkar learned in the last six months—that it was more important to get everyone’s ideas and comments out in the open, rather than have to make all the decisions himself.
    “So that means they’re probably watching the place,” Grond said.
    “They’ll wait until we move on, make certain we’re gone, then come back, take as many villagers, food, and whatever else they want, and be off.”
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    “Why couldn’t they have taken what they wanted today?” Sisuthros asked.
    “Because they don’t have enough horses for the slaves and goods themselves,” Eskkar answered, glad that he had asked himself the same question. “And they weren’t sure if we would chase after them or not. If they were burdened with slaves and loot, we could have caught up with them easily enough. No, they’ll be back. Some fool even