by Sam Barone
With the first rays of dawn, Draelin arrived. “Well?”
One look told Alcinor that Draelin had not slept either. No doubt the soldier had spent the evening preparing defenses against the Elamites.
“Only four more sections to dig out,” Alcinor said. “We should be ready before midmorning.”
“I think that’s all the time you’re going to get,” Draelin answered. “One of my men crept far enough up the Pass to see the enemy’s night camp. He got close enough to make out their fires. I’m just hoping they didn’t see your torches.”
“We’ll be ready.” Alcinor tried to make his voice sound convincing.
“How long will the fire take?”
“Not long.” Alcinor uttered the lie smoothly. He had no idea how long it would take for the fire to weaken the support beams.
Draelin swore at the vague answers, but turned away without another word.
Jahiri moved to Alcinor’s side. He’d been close enough to hear the conversation. “I’ll get the men back to work.”
With the first ray of daylight, the hammering resumed, the men chiseling away at sections four and three. The rock appeared to flake away more easily, which made sense to Alcinor. The overhang had eroded more at this end of the cliff, so the rock must be softer. Which also, he realized, meant it would be weaker.
He glanced up at the massive weight of stone towering above him. Gods above, please hold together a little longer.
Finally Jahiri ordered the workers to move on to the last two sections. Even the men sensed that the end was near, and they managed to keep up the pace, though by now Alcinor knew their arms must be burning in agony from the continuous work.
“I think we’re going to make it.” Jahiri wiped the sweat from his eyes. His face, his entire body was coated with rock dust.
“Well before midmorning,” Alcinor agreed. “We’ll even have time . . .”
A loud crack sounded from the rear of the overhang. The noise, like the grinding of two giant stone hammers and magnified by the cliff, panicked the men. They dropped their tools and fled to the entrance, their eyes wide with fear. Only the soldiers, either braver or unaware of how much danger lurked overhead, sprang to their feet and prevented the work crew from scrambling down the rocks and abandoning the site.
Alcinor and Jahiri looked at each other. Alcinor felt his heart racing in his chest, and Jahiri appeared just as frightened. They stood waiting, but no more noise came from the overhang. The rock had shifted, but hadn’t come down and flattened them all. Not yet.
“Let’s see what happened.” Alcinor whirled around and faced the soldiers. “Keep everyone here. Nobody leaves.”
He and Jahiri picked their way through the rock chips beneath their feet, their eyes searching the cliff wall for any sign of weakness. They found it soon enough, between the sixth and seventh posts. A crevice wide as a man’s arm ran up the cliff surface and continued onto the overhang, reaching nearly to the front face before it disappeared.
“Ishtar mother of the gods,” muttered Jahiri. “It’s going to come down any moment.”
Alcinor studied the mass of stone above his head, trying to envision the shifting direction of the various forces struggling within the cliff. “I’m not so sure. The crack has relieved some of the stress in the stone here, but increased it in other places.”
Still, he knew a good breeze on the upper surface might bring it down, but not in the way Alcinor wanted.
“Look at the post!” Jahiri clutched Alcinor’s arm with one hand, while he pointed with the other.
The seventh post had shifted from the vertical by at least a hand’s width. The wood had also cracked, a long seam now showing on the inner side. For a moment, all Alcinor could think of was that the oak logs were strong indeed. He realized he was holding his breath. Drawing air into his chest, he clasped Jahiri on the shoulder.
“Get the men back to work,” he ordered. “I’ll start the fires going. We have to do it now.”
They trotted back to the opening and found Draelin there, shifting from one leg to the other, left hand clutching the hilt of his sword. “What happened? Why did you stop working?”
Alcinor ignored him. He grabbed two of his men. “Each of you gather two oil pots and follow me.” He shoved them on their way, and the force of his words kept them moving.
The battering resumed as Jahiri snatched up a hammer and pushed his crew back beneath the overhang. Meanwhile, Alcinor led his two men into the shadows, all the way down to the twelfth post.
“You, open the pots and saturate the wood. Be careful to not waste any oil. Make sure it all goes onto the wood.” He ordered the second man to do the same on the eleventh post. Alcinor stood between them, making certain the black liquid spread over the dry wood, and didn’t trickle away on the dusty rock.
The oil that burns would saturate the carefully arranged firewood, and form a pool at the base of the beam. When set afire, all the heat from the flames would be concentrated on the log itself.
Post by post, Alcinor supervised the application of the oil pots, two to each post. Even before the last set of pots was emptied, he collected a fresh torch and set it alight from the small fire that the soldiers had kept burning during the night and into the morning.
Alcinor walked calmly to the twelfth post, the one deepest into the mountain. For a moment, he just stared down at the wood. “May Hephastor move this mountain,” Alcinor prayed to the god of every builder, then touched the flickering end of the torch to the still dripping oil.
With a whoosh, the flames engulfed the post. Taking his time and ignoring the heat, he repeated the process, working his way, post by post, until he reached the front of the cavern. The flames would set the beams afire, he knew, but the oak was strong and would take time before it weakened.
Jahiri, on his knees beside the first post, struggled with a specially made, heavy bronze chain. The thick links surrounded the base of the log, but in a wide loop that was a long pace from the beam. Jahiri wanted to keep the links out of the worst of the fire, to maintain their strength.
Alcinor waited until his apprentice completed the loop and then carefully dragged the other end of the long chain, which stretched about twenty paces, out from underneath the overhang and into the sunlight. If the fire did not weaken the beams enough to bring down the cliff, men and horses would try to rip the weakened timber of the first beam from its position.
“I’m ready,” Jahiri called out.
Alcinor tossed the torch at the base of the first beam, then walked out. When he rejoined Jahiri and Draelin, the frightened laborers wanted to descend the cliff, but the soldiers still blocked the way.
Alcinor turned to face the flames. All twelve beams were ablaze, flames licking and crawling their way up each post. The fire created a black cloud of oily smoke that curled and twisted its way along the bottom of the overhang until it could reach the open sky. The heat, partially trapped beneath the rock, surged like a wave toward them. Alcinor could see the air flowing, even without the streams of smoke rushing up from the rock.
“Well, the smoke will tell the Elamites where we are.” Draelin had to shout to be heard over the crackling of the flames. “What happens now?”
“The oak beams are strong, and it will take awhile before they lose their strength. As the beams fail one by one, the weight of the rock will shift to the remaining logs. When that happens, the cliff will become more and more unstable, until it topples from its own weight.”
“Should we be standing here?”
“It will take a few more moments,” Alcinor said. “And we may need to use the chain to weaken the first post, which is the strongest. Keep your men ready.”
The flames, fed by the oil and the dry firewood stacked around each post, roared up with a sound that echoed out over the rocks. Two years ago, Alcinor had watched in fascination as a large swath of houses in Akkad burned to the ground, but never in his life had he seen flames like these. Meanwhile, dense black clouds bo
iled out from beneath the overhang, a living snake of reeking smoke that stormed up into the heavens.
“I think it’s time to go,” Jahiri said, rubbing his jaw.
Alcinor stared at the burning inferno. He’d built this pyre to bring about the death of the mountain, and now he found himself transfixed in spite of the danger. Still, Jahiri was right. The weight of the rock should make it topple toward the trail, but large chunks of the cliff would be flying in all directions.
“Draelin, send your soldiers down first. As my men come down, make sure everyone stands by the chain. We may need every man hauling on it.”
No one needed any urging to descend, the soldiers and laborers scrambling down as fast as they could. Only when all the others were gone did Alcinor start his descent, but he stopped when his head was level with the base of the rock. He stared at the burning cliff, a sight no man had ever seen before. Even the demons who dwelt deep below the earth in their pools of fire would be in awe.
Alcinor glanced below, and saw workers and soldiers grasping the chain wherever they could. The last link of the chain had been threaded with two stout ropes, and these fastened to leather traces attached to two horses. A soldier stood beside each animal, a leather lash in his hand. Both animals shifted nervously, ears jerking back and forth, worried by the smell of burning oil and the crackling of the nearby flames.
A snapping noise jerked Alcinor’s head around. One of the beams had failed. Others would soon collapse under the additional strain. Because of the smoke, he could only see the first few beams, burning as furiously as a funeral pyre.
The chain, meant to help break the keystone beam if the flames failed to do the job, wouldn’t be needed. One last look, and he resumed his descent. Hands reached up to help him down. He tried to speak, but his chest was full of smoke. He coughed as he waved the men away, until he cleared his throat.
“Run! Forget the chain. Run!”
The men needed no further urging. They fled for the safety of the rocks. The soldiers unhooked the traces from the horses, and the animals bolted. Alcinor, supported by Jahiri on one side and Draelin on the other, stumbled after them toward the safety of the rocks.
Before they could get behind the massive boulders, the cliff broke loose from the mountain with a deafening boom, magnified by the rocks, that struck the men like a blow. The ground shook, and the three were knocked to the earth.
Alcinor landed on his back, and he glimpsed the death of the mountain. The massive slab of stone, sixty paces long and at least that many in height, separated from its base with a deafening crack. The wall of rock turned halfway as it fell, striking the lower cliff wall that also leaned out over the trail. Falling from a height of more than forty paces, nothing could resist its impact.
The lower wall collapsed under the additional weight and snapped in two. The ground shook again and moved, in the same fashion as an earthquake. A whirling cloud of dust rose up, to mix with the flames and smoke, and the entire cliff came down with a demon-like rumbling that went on and on, carrying an unbelievable mass of stone that choked the Jkarian Pass.
It took a long time before the shaking stopped. Jahiri recovered first. “You did it! You moved the mountain!” He threw his arms around the Engineer and hugged him.
Alcinor started coughing from the thick dust that hung in the air, but nothing could keep the smile from his face.
“By Ishtar, I never thought it would work,” Draelin said, “but you’ve done it!” He slapped Jahiri on the back.
Alcinor climbed to his feet, surprised to find that his legs trembled so much he could scarcely stand. “I knew she’d come down. She protested, but she succumbed at the last moment.”
“If the trail is truly closed, you may have saved Akkad,” Jahiri said.
That took the smile from Alcinor’s face. “Let’s hope that Eskkar and the others are as successful.”
“We still have to get you and your men back to Akkad,” Draelin reminded them. “Remember, there’s that Elamite scouting party that already went through the Pass.”
“They won’t all linger at the mouth of the Pass, will they? Don’t you have enough men to drive them away?” Alcinor had forgotten about the enemy scouts.
“Yes, but I have to leave some behind, to watch the Elamites and make sure they don’t somehow find a way through your landslide. But I don’t think I’ll need to keep too many here. The mountain you moved should be enough to hold them back for a few days, even if it doesn’t send them all running back to Elam.”
Draelin clasped Alcinor and hugged him until he gasped, then did the same to Jahiri. “Take care of your master. I’m going out to see what the Pass looks like, and make sure it’s completely blocked.”
“It is,” Jahiri asserted. “Master Engineer Alcinor is the first man to ever move a mountain.”
And that, Alcinor decided, would be his contribution to the war.
Chapter 16
Half a mile away, General Jedidia guided his big stallion, a rangy black brute with a single splash of white on its forehead, as he led the two-mile long column of Elamite horsemen through the Jkarian Pass. Yesterday his troop had crested the route’s highest point, and now the final leg of the journey to the Land Between the Rivers lay before him.
While the Pass still held many twists and turns, the gradual descent would continue. In two days, three at most, he would reach the open grasslands that lay to the northeast of Akkad.
Once there, Jedidia would unleash his ruthless fighters, and they would loose terror on the helpless villagers and farmers. More important, his soldiers would destroy Akkad’s main source of food and supplies. No matter how determined or violent a resistance King Eskkar offered from his city’s wall, the destruction of the northern countryside meant, sooner or later, the end of the conflict.
To achieve that goal, General Jedidia commanded an army of almost six thousand horsemen. He had received a simple set of instructions from King Shirudukh – destroy any Akkadian force he encountered, devastate whatever countryside he traversed, cut any supply lines, and bring his horsemen down to the city of Akkad, killing or capturing any that tried to flee the doomed city. Once Jedidia reached Akkad, he had orders to place himself and his cavalry under the command of Lord Modran.
That part of Jedidia’s instructions still rankled. The fawning sycophant Lord Modran had obtained the coveted assignment of capturing Akkad with all its wealth, the task that Jedidia knew he deserved. To humiliate Jedidia even further, Grand Commander Chaiyanar – the pompous title never ceased to grate on Jedidia’s nerves – had received the second most desirable objective, the rich City of Sumer. Their machinations had left Jedidia, Elam’s most experienced and efficient soldier, with the smallest army and the least profitable mission.
Lord Modran’s victory was assured. He led enough soldiers to overwhelm the entire Land Between the Rivers by himself. It was just a matter of time. Chaiyanar, whose only military skill consisted of laying siege to cities, would easily pluck the second and far weaker apple from the tree – Sumer. He, too, had more men than he needed. Jedidia, however, had only six thousand men, not enough to capture Akkad or face King Eskkar’s army.
Jedidia understood King Shirudukh’s cunning decision. The King knew his generals could never be completely trusted. He wanted no strong commander in the field who might someday rival his own glory, or perhaps even threaten his rule.
Only twenty years ago, King Shirudukh’s father, after assassinating his liege lord, had seized the crown of Elam. What had happened in the past, could yet happen again, and so the present King of Elam trusted none of his commanders with too much power.
Despite their repeated oaths of fealty to his rule, Shirudukh knew that none of his three most senior generals could be allowed to grow too powerful. If any of them tried to seize the throne, the other two would unite against him. The balancing of power between them meant far more than any mere pledges of loyalty. After all, a successful revolt absolved the oath giver of all gui
lt or punishment.
Zathras, Jedidia’s second in command, guided his horse alongside. “General! Do you see the smoke rising from the cliffs?” Zathras raised his left arm, pointing toward the left side of the Pass.
Jedidia put aside the gloomy thoughts that had eaten at his guts for the last few months. He lifted his gaze, following the direction Zathras indicated. For a few moments he observed the dark plume of greasy smoke billowing into the air.
“What could be burning so fiercely in these rocks, General?” Zathras’s voice held more curiosity than concern.
“I don’t know, but whatever it is, it seems too far from the trail to be a problem.”
Jedidia studied the cliffs that had risen higher and higher on either side of the Pass in the last few miles. The trail had narrowed here as well. Less than sixty paces separated the towering rock faces. “But this might be a good place for an ambush.”
Zathras turned to one of his subcommanders, riding a few strides behind. “Ride ahead, and warn the advance guard to be alert. The Akkadians may try to slow us down.”
Jedidia had considered the possibility of either an ambush or a delaying attack long before he entered the Jkarian Pass. Months ago, his scouts had ridden the length of the Pass from Elam to Akkad’s northern lands.
They’d found several places where small groups of men might lie in wait, but none, as he recalled from studying the maps, near this particular part of the Pass. And even if a few hundred enemy attacked, they would soon be driven off.
Nevertheless, Jedidia had sent almost two hundred men on ahead yesterday, to scout the trail, and they had not reported any activity. Even if his scouts had been ambushed, they would have sent a warning back to the main column at the first sign of trouble. Nonetheless five hundred riders formed Jedidia’s vanguard, riding a few hundred paces ahead.
A shout made him lift his eyes. He saw two riders galloping toward him, and guessed something was amiss. They slowed just long enough to speak to their subcommander, then resumed their rapid pace toward their leaders.
