Clash Of Empires (The Eskkar Saga)

by Sam Barone

  The craft’s sail came down, and the crew of the boat struggled at their oars, driving the craft through the waves toward the camp.

  He glanced up at the sun. It had just moved past its highest point in the sky, so Kedor had spoken the truth about that, at least.

  Kedor, his tunic washed in the morning surf and spotless once again, looked every bit the wealthy ship owner. His three rings, stolen by his captors, had been returned to him, and the red gemstone on his right hand flashed in the bright sunlight. He even carried a sword on his waist, though the blade had been broken off close to the hilt, leaving only a dull stub inside the scabbard.

  “Remember,” Daro said, “act as if you are in charge of the camp, and I am merely your faithful bodyguard. Make sure they come all the way in. If they suspect anything is amiss . . .”

  “I understand, Daro.” Kedor smiled grimly. “You don’t need to threaten me any further.”

  Nevertheless, Daro made sure that two of his archers stood close by, ready to take up their bows.

  Side by side, Daro and his captive stood on the beach, two men enjoying the fresh sea air as they watched the ship pulling its way toward them.

  “The men will be tired when they land,” Daro commented.

  “Yes, the last pull is the hardest. You don’t want your boat to lose its way and get swamped trying to make land.” Kedor raised his hand to shade his eyes from the brilliant sun reflecting off the blue water. “Your men will be expected to help beach the boat. Still, you’re in luck. Many times several boats sail together, for safety. This captain must have pressed on ahead.”

  The boat drew closer. Now it caught the swell of the waves washing ashore and speeded up, as the onrushing tide made the crew’s job less taxing.

  Suddenly the boat loomed up. Daro shouted to his men, and they dropped their burdens and leisurely waded into the surf, waiting to assist the vessel’s crew. He heard the captain’s booming voice as he ordered the oars in. The ship flung itself through the last of the waves, bottom hissing against the sand.

  It stopped with a lurch, tilting slightly to the right, but by then the Akkadians had reached its side, and before it could float off again, they dug their feet into the swirling sand and heaved the vessel farther onto the sand, grounding it.

  A man wearing a large hat with a wide brim to deflect the fierce sun strode along the length of the ship, staring at the men on the beach.

  Daro turned to Kedor. “Tell the captain to surrender, or I’ll put his crew to the sword.”

  Kedor repeated the commands, and Daro saw the look of shock on the captain’s face. Twenty archers rose up from the nearest hulk, bows drawn and shafts aimed at the rowers. At the same time, the men who helped beach the craft swarmed up its sides. Only a few had swords, but the rest carried knives, and they far outnumbered the stupefied crew.

  In moments, the Akkadians had the crew of fifteen off the ship and under guard. Daro and Kedor confronted the shocked captain, who had already lost his fine hat and whatever jewels he might have been wearing. Daro’s men could strip a body, alive or dead, of all its valuables in the briefest of moments.

  “What’s your cargo?”

  “What is this? Who are you?”

  Dargo grabbed the man by the throat and jabbed the tip of his knife into the man’s stomach. “Answer my question, or I’ll spill your guts on the sand, and let you watch yourself die.”

  The man’s knees turned to water, and the words spilled from his mouth.

  Soon Daro nodded in satisfaction. A food ship, destined to resupply the men attacking Sumer. A good catch.

  “Sail, ho! Another ship to the east!”

  “You did well, Kedor.” Daro could afford to be generous. “Now let’s see what the next one brings us.”

  The second boat, a little smaller, was taken as easily as the first. This one, with a crew of twelve, also carried food for the soldiers, and a good supply of grain for the horses. Daro had no use for the grain and most of the food, so he decided to give his archers some practice at sea.

  Just before the tide turned, they loaded the second ship that had arrived with all the unneeded supplies, and launched it back into the surf. Kedor’s old ship – the men had already renamed it the Akkad – followed, and soon the two craft were more than half a mile off the shore.

  As Daro watched from one of the beached vessels, the crew of the smaller boat broke open the hull. The ship began to sink, and the crew swam over to the Akkad. In moments, the stricken ship slipped under the waves, taking with it the supplies that would soon be needed by the Elamites.

  The Akkad remained offshore, rowing back and forth, as the men familiarized themselves with their prize and the way it handled.

  Just before dusk, another ship was sighted. Daro signaled the Akkad to return, and soon welcomed its laughing crew back in the camp. The third vessel, rowing hard to reach the camp before nightfall, proved to be the catch of the day. Larger than the others, it contained a good supply of weapons – swords, spears, as well as bows and sheaves of arrows.

  Daro rubbed his hands together in satisfaction. He had three ships ready to fight, plenty of food and now a vast supply of arrows. At the first hint of danger, he could put to sea and be out of reach of the Elamite army.

  Even Kedor appeared impressed. “You’ve done well, Commander Daro. I thought you might catch one or two ships’ crews by surprise, but not three. What do you intend to do with the crews? You’ll soon have too many to guard.”

  “In the morning, I’ll send them on their way toward Sumer. Whether they find any safety in that direction is up to them. As long as they don’t try and go east. I don’t want them warning approaching ships. If you like, Kedor, you can go with them.”

  The former captain considered his choices. “I believe I would prefer to stay with you. Sooner or later, I’d like to get my ship back, and if I leave, it’s unlikely I’ll ever see her again. I’m sure I can help you deal with the Elamites. Even when you’re captured or killed, I should still be able to convince the Elamites that I was forced to work for you.”

  Daro nodded. “And when Eskkar drives these Elamites back to their own lands, you could find yourself enjoying a pleasant welcome in Akkad and a suitable reward. The King will need men who know the Elamites’ ways.”

  “Then until the gods bring either of those happy days upon us, I will continue to help you. But please, make sure your men still consider me a prisoner.”

  “Indeed I will, Kedor. But I think Ishtar and Marduk, the gods of Akkad, will bring you good fortune.” Daro laughed. “And meanwhile, we’ll starve the Elamite army as much as we can.”

  “You think they will not capture Sumer? The soldiers talked as if taking the city would be as easy as plucking a ripe berry from a bush.”

  “Well, I think they’ll find that Sumer is much better prepared for a siege than their spies reported. King Naxos and his five thousand riders will give the Elamites more than they can handle. By now, that battle may have already begun.”

  Daro clapped his hand on Kedor’s shoulder. “Come, we should celebrate our new alliance with some wine.”

  “Thanks be to the gods,” Kedor said. “I was beginning to think that none of Akkad’s leaders had a taste for fine spirits.”

  Daro laughed as he led the way toward the supplies stacked up upon the beach. “We’ll drink to our next capture. I wonder how King Naxos is doing?”

  Chapter 21

  After leaving Daro and the supply cove behind, the Isin and Akkadian cavalry covered twenty miles without incident. As the last of the day faded into dusk, the scouts returned and reported no sign of the Elamites. Hathor, riding at the head of the column beside Naxos, decided not to press their luck.

  “Let’s make an early camp,” Hathor suggested. “The Elamites are bound to have patrols to the north and west, and they’ll likely be returning to Sumer before dark. If we get too close to the city, we may run into one of them.”

  “We could make a few more mi
les before nightfall,” Naxos agreed, “but there’s no sense wearying the horses.”

  They had reached a small stream, an offshoot of the Tigris, that also found its way to the Great Sea. Too shallow for the large, seagoing vessels the Elamites used to transport their supplies, the branch was also the closest source of fresh water to the cove. The Elamites, traveling in three separate armies so that the ships could resupply them along the way and at the cove, had reached Sumeria a few days apart.

  Each army would have come up this same trail, then followed the stream north until it joined with the Tigris a handful of miles south of Sumer. The debris and human waste scattered about indicated that the Elamites had indeed camped here as well.

  The combined force continued another half mile north, until they found a relatively clean place to halt for the night. Sliding down from his horse, Hathor ordered his commanders to join him. Issuing the night orders didn’t take long. His men understood they were in enemy territory, and they knew what needed to be done.

  With so many men and horses, even stopping to make camp presented its own challenges. The mounts came first, of course. They had to be fed a few handfuls of the precious grain captured at the cove, then rubbed down, and corralled for the night. Units of one hundred men, each under the leadership of a subcommander, comprised each group. Fortunately, the forces of Akkad and Isin had ridden together for almost thirty days, and every man knew his task.

  “Make sure the sentries are posted,” Hathor said. “Double the guard on the horses, and I want fifty men ready to mount up at all times.” Then he strode through the camp, as the evening fires were lit. Hathor stopped at every small gathering, talking and laughing with his men, much the way Eskkar always did.

  Hathor understood the need to stay close to his men. Soldiers fought, he knew, not just for a cause, but because they believed in themselves, their companions, and their leaders. And the more they saw their leader concerned with their welfare, the harder they would fight.

  As he moved among them, Hathor saw no signs of fear or worry, though everyone knew they might be fighting for their lives tomorrow. Sumer, besieged by thousands of Elamites, lay only twenty miles or so to the north, and the men knew it.

  During the march through the mountains, Hathor and Naxos both had to deal with the usual petty frictions of large numbers of soldiers jammed together. Quarrels had broken out nearly every day, but there had been only a few incidents occurring between the men of Isin and Akkad. Where the blame fell upon his men, Naxos had been harsh in his punishments, and Hathor had followed the King of Isin’s example.

  Both commanders knew they had to make their forces cooperate, or the entire expedition might fail. But the shared suffering that the men had endured during the long and difficult journey had softened everyone’s rough edges, and by now, to Hathor’s satisfaction, the men worked willing together. Even the dimmest witted or most quarrelsome bully understood that the enemy would kill the soldiers of Isin and Akkad indiscriminately, and that bond kept the men close.

  In his rounds, Hathor did take in all the usual complaints – too much riding, contrary horses, not enough food, and stiff and sore muscles – the list was endless. Soldiers had grumbled about such things as long as men had gone to war, and with much the same result – another hard ride the next day, a desperate battle, and a good chance of ending up dead.

  Still, if the soldiers had any real misgivings about their mission, Hathor would have glimpsed it in their eyes or heard it in their voices. Instead they splashed about in the stream, or relaxed in the warm and breezy evening air, still smelling of the sea, a happy change from the endless days and stifling heat in the foothills. They might have been children playing, instead of men about to go into battle.

  Satisfied with his men’s good spirits, Hathor took one final walk around the perimeter of the camp, checking on the sentries. He’d heard too many of Eskkar’s stories about stealing horses and night stampedes to leave anything to chance, especially this close to the enemy. Both he and Naxos wanted their men and horses to be fresh when they reached the city. They might all be fighting for their lives before the sun cleared the horizon.

  Only then did Hathor drop down on the soft ground. The gurgling of the water against the rocks lulled him to sleep, almost as quickly and deeply as any of his soldiers.

  In the morning, Hathor and Naxos woke their men well before dawn, in case the Elamites had learned of their presence and planned a morning attack. By the time the leading edge of the sun lifted over the horizon, every fighter stood beside his mount, ready to ride or repel an attack. But sunrise brought only empty horizons, with no sign of any enemy scouts observing their position.

  Naxos gave the order, and the cavalry formed into its usual columns and resumed its journey. The open terrain, mostly sand with large clumps of bright green grasses, promised easy riding for the men. The two pennants taken from the beach, each fastened to a lance tip, waved in the breeze just behind the two leaders.

  “They haven’t discovered us yet,” Hathor said, riding at Naxos’s side. “We’d have seen their scouts by now.”

  “Or they’re baiting a trap for us closer to Sumer,” Naxos argued.

  Hathor laughed. Naxos’s gloomy words didn’t carry conviction. “In that case, we’d better hurry north. It wouldn’t do to keep the Elamites waiting.”

  Naxos swore, then laughed.

  They continued north, following the stream. The day promised to be another hot one. Hathor didn’t mind, having been raised in the Egyptian desert. As midmorning approached, the Akkadians had their first encounter with the enemy. Still traveling at a comfortable pace to conserve the horses, they came across an Elamite supply party returning to the beach, to collect food and supplies from the boats.

  Fifty pack animals, twenty Elamite handlers, and ten guards comprised the supply gang. Either because of the captured pennants, or perhaps because they didn’t expect a hostile force between Sumer and the beach, they rode right up to the slow-moving Akkadians without the slightest suspicion. As he had yesterday, Naxos killed the leader himself. The rest of the Elamites died almost as fast, taken by surprise and cut down in a hail of arrows.

  “Collect all the horses,” Hathor shouted when the killing stopped. “We don’t want any riderless horses returning to Sumer.”

  Naxos, a splash of Elamite blood on his right arm, appeared as ferocious as any of his men. Isin’s King, Hathor decided, enjoyed killing people. Certainly the man showed no fear of death of fighting. Hathor prayed to the gods that Naxos’s eagerness for battle wouldn’t turn to some reckless action.

  The Akkadians left the dead where they had fallen, and continued their journey.

  “Not many guards,” Naxos commented cheerfully.

  Maybe, Hathor decided, the King should kill a man or two every morning, if it would keep him in a good mood. “Nothing of value to guard,” Hathor said. “Just empty packs to fill with supplies at the cove. Still, you’re right. These Elamites seem very confident. I expected we’d be spotted by now.”

  Keeping their horses to a slow walk, Hathor and Naxos rode together at the head of the army, with only a few scouts out ahead. The Akkadian cavalry still followed the well-beaten track that Elamites had created on their march from the beach.

  A few miles beyond, Hathor came across an even more visible sign of the enemy’s passage. Eight bodies, six men and two women, lay naked alongside the trail. The men, hacked to pieces and covered with blood, had probably died fast enough.

  The women, their faces covered with so much blood that Hathor couldn’t even tell if they were old or young, showed large bruises on their thighs and breasts, the usual signs of repeated rape. Both had wide belly wounds that would have killed them slowly. One had a clump of sea grass shoved into her opening.

  Swarms of the fearless black sea flies nearly covered the corpses, as they feasted on the still fresh meat. Hathor wondered how many men had taken the women before they died. Even death might not have stopped
the most brutal of Elamites.

  Most likely farmers, Hathor guessed, harmless and helpless before the Elamite swords. Hathor knew that every man would stare at the bodies as they rode by. Behind him, the laughter and loud talk faded into sober words.

  Hathor wasted little more than a look at the dead. Helpless farmers had suffered at the hands of soldiers and marauders since the beginning of time, and he’d killed more than a few of them himself.

  After a brief glance at the bodies, Naxos, too, had ignored the sight. Dead Sumerian farmers meant nothing to him. “So, Hathor, what do you think we will find?”

  “The last of the invaders reached the city three or four days ago,” Hathor replied. “By now they’ve sealed the approaches and started preparing for the assault. I expect that we’ll find them spread out, with the largest concentration of men north of Sumer, in case anyone tries to reach the city or break the siege. They’re obviously not watching the south, or we’d have seen their patrols.”

  “What do you suggest we do when we get there? What would the mighty Eskkar do?”

  Hathor took his time before answering. He knew the King of Isin’s pride still rankled that he had agreed to follow Eskkar’s battle plan. All the same, Naxos already knew what Eskkar would do.

  Long before the expedition set out, Eskkar, Hathor, and Naxos had prepared several plans of action, depending on whether or not the Akkadians were discovered, even when they were discovered. If the element of surprise remained intact, the leaders had already agreed on what to do.

  “My Lord Naxos, King Eskkar asked you to take this command. He told me to follow your orders as I would his own. He asked only that I take no foolish chances with my men’s lives. You’ve no need to compare yourself to him. The command is yours.”

  “Bah! I know Eskkar well enough. He’d sacrifice Isin and Sumer, too, for that matter, to save his city.”