Clash Of Empires (The Eskkar Saga)

by Sam Barone

  Now the time had come for one last look at the place he had chosen to fight. Eskkar called for A-tuku, and swung onto the bay. He guided the horse to the center of the trail. At this point in the Pass, the width was less than a quarter mile wide. Facing east, he stared down the slope, visualizing the enemy soldiers advancing toward this position. Their legs would be weary as they marched into battle.

  Eskkar turned his gaze to his right, toward the southern wall of the Dellen Pass. He saw only the towering cliffs, which even Shappa’s agile slingers had declared were impossible to climb or flank. He grunted in satisfaction. His right flank would indeed be secure.

  Turning to his left, the northern cliff face rose almost as high. But on that side of the Pass, a massive jumble of large boulders and chunks of the mountain itself littered the ground beneath the northern wall. The cliff’s debris extended almost a hundred paces into the Pass, restricting the trail’s breadth even further.

  His Akkadian soldiers would stand between those two points, a solid line of infantry and archers. For this battle, the Elamite army would have no way to flank their enemy.

  Eskkar’s men would be greatly outnumbered, but the narrow width of the trail through this part of the Pass meant only a portion of the enemy could be brought to bear against his soldiers. As Eskkar had reminded his commanders, they didn’t need to defeat the Elamites, just hold them off. As long as the Akkadians could stand their ground, the Elamites would have to destroy Eskkar’s army if they wanted to get through the remaining thirty miles of the Pass.

  Thanks to Trella’s agents, for the last few months every Elamite spy had reported to his masters that Akkad continued to prepare itself for a siege. Finding the bulk of the city’s forces facing them in the Dellen Pass would be the last thing Modran and the Elamites expected. Or at least Eskkar hoped they had swallowed the bait. Forcing the enemy to fight here, in difficult terrain, would nullify much of their advantage in numbers.

  Despite its vast size, the enemy army would have little in the way of food and water with it, and only a slender chain of supplies coming behind it from Elam. Modran’s invasion plan anticipated crossing the mountains and marching unopposed up to Akkad’s gates. He intended to besiege the city and live off the countryside, supported by food and herd animals collected by General Jedidia.

  And just as Eskkar had defeated the Alur Meriki at the Battle of the Stream by blocking access to any water for their warriors, he now intended to do the same to the Elamites. The nearest water available to the enemy was a mountain spring about forty miles to their rear, which meant that any water needed by their soldiers and animals had a long way to travel to reach this place of battle.

  Men and horses would be forced to ride back forty miles, fill as many water skins as each horse and rider could carry, and then return to the battle site, struggling under the heavy weight.

  For each trip, Eskkar knew almost as much water would be wasted as reached the Elamite camp. Skins would leak or break, reducing the amount of water available. There was just no way to supply thirty thousand men with enough water over that distance. A shortage of water would soon be Lord Modran’s most pressing problem.

  Meanwhile, the stream where Eskkar and Alexar’s army had camped the night before, close to the mouth of the Dellen Pass and over thirty miles to the rear, provided all the water the Akkadians needed. Porters and liverymen would deliver fresh water skins to Eskkar’s army every day, from dawn to dusk. But if the Elamites wanted to reach the next source of water along their invasion route, they would first have to defeat the Akkad’s forces.

  Food, except for a few mountain goats, was nonexistent in the mountains. The invaders would have carried enough provisions with them to get through the Pass, and perhaps a few days after that. Their limited supplies of food and water meant they would have to get through as quickly as possible. Every day that Eskkar’s men could delay the enemy’s advance would make them that much weaker.

  Nor was there much grass for the Elamite cavalry. No army carried enough grain to feed so many mounts. The animals needed to graze, and hardly any grass grew in the rocky and shallow soil of the Dellen Pass. Eskkar guessed that the enemy horses had already started to feel the first pangs of hunger and thirst.

  Unless the Elamites turned back, they would have to break through Eskkar’s position if they wanted food and water. However he had no intention of letting them do that. He would fight them here, in the mountains, on a battleground that he had chosen, until the last man. Even if the invaders overran his position, every enemy soldier that Eskkar could kill here in the Pass would add a bit more strength to Akkad and its remaining defenders.

  All the pieces, laboriously planned over the last year, were now in place. The only task that remained was for Eskkar and his men to hold back the onslaught.

  Eskkar touched his heels to A-tuku, and paced the horse toward the southern cliff wall. The impassable, sheer cliff rose several hundred paces high. Back and forth he rode, studying the rock face, making certain once again that there was no way his position could be flanked from that side.

  Tugging on the halter, he guided his mount toward the northern wall. On his last visit to the site, Eskkar had measured the distance himself, just to be sure. From north to south, the width of the Pass was fewer than three hundred paces, less than a quarter of a mile. A narrower opening would have been even better, but this location had its advantages. No battleground, Eskkar knew, was ever perfect.

  At the northern side, gigantic boulders lay strewn about the base of the cliff wall, and rising up into cliffs that grew ever taller until they backed into the mountain wall itself. On his first visit, Eskkar and five of his guards had spent most of a day wandering through the substantial chunks of rocks and pieces of the cliff wall.

  He learned that a man on foot could, with difficulty and enough time, make his way through the maze, climbing over and squeezing around the boulders. But one of his guards sprained an ankle, and another managed to scrape his knee so hard that it required bandaging. For soldiers carrying shields or bows, it would be even more arduous. The Elamites would try it, of course, but Eskkar felt confident he had the answer to that.

  Guiding A-tuku away from the rocks, Eskkar returned to the center of the Pass. A small cairn of stones marked the spot. He halted his horse, and looked back up the trail that had brought him to this place. The ground continued to slope upwards for just over two hundred paces, before it flattened out and disappeared behind a curve in the Pass.

  Shifting his gaze to the east, Eskkar stared down the slope, at the path the Elamites would have to take. Yes, this place would do very well for a fight to the death.

  Eskkar dismounted and turned A-tuku over to one of his guards, gulped some water, and walked back to the center of the Pass.

  Drakis now waited there, sitting on the cairn. He pointed downward with his finger. “This is where we think the first battle line should be, Captain. The men can line up in good formation, and it’s nearly level from side to side.”

  The first row would be the infantry, Akkad’s spearmen, at least four rows deep. Twenty paces behind them would stand the archers, three rows deep. Even at close range, the bowmen would take advantage of their slightly higher position on the slope to shoot over the heads of the infantry.

  With the extra height, the Akkadian archers, shooting downhill, should be able to outrange any Elamite bowmen. Mitrac’s bowmen would loose six or seven volleys, which meant thousands of arrows, before the attackers could reply.

  The third Akkadian battle line consisted of Muta’s cavalry. Their task would be to hurl back any Elamites who broke through the first two ranks. Even so, most of the cavalry would fight on foot, using their smaller bows to augment the Akkadian archers, or their swords to reinforce the spearmen.

  In planning for this battle, Eskkar and his commanders quickly realized that a large number of cavalry wouldn’t be that useful in the Dellen Pass, and would merely create another supply problem. That decision h
ad freed up the rest of the Akkadian cavalry. Hathor now led those men, along with Isin’s forces, in their campaign against Grand Commander Chaiyanar and the Elamites attacking Sumer.

  Eskkar had brought with him only enough horsemen to help hold the line, and to cover any retreat. Still, if Modran’s soldiers forced the Akkadians to withdraw, Eskkar knew that any attempt to fall back would likely turn into a rout. If the nearly ten thousand enemy cavalry joined the attack, Muta’s men would be overwhelmed and cut to pieces.

  To stop the invaders, Eskkar had twenty-four hundred infantry men, sixteen hundred bowmen, eighteen hundred cavalry, and six hundred slingers. All in all, sixty-four hundred Akkadians would have to hold off more than twenty-five, and perhaps as many as thirty thousand Elamites. Those were daunting numbers, but at least here, in the Pass, Modran’s cavalry would be almost useless.

  Eskkar took one last glance around, and nodded in satisfaction. The time had come to talk to the prisoner. He strode over to where the captured Elamite sat on the ground, guarded by two soldiers. Drakis followed. Muta was already there, glowering at the captive. Slight of build, dried blood covered the left side of the man’s face. His fear showed by the trembling of his hands and lips.

  “Drakis, translate my words exactly.”

  Both Eskkar and Trella had insisted that all the senior commanders learn at least the rudiments of the main Elamite language. Drakis, because of his good grasp of several dialects spoken in the Land Between the Rivers, had become fluent in the prisoner’s language.

  Eskkar stopped less than a pace away from the captive, close enough to smell the man’s fear. “Do you know who I am?”

  The Elamite had to swallow before he could get out the words. “No, Master.”

  “My name is Eskkar, and I’m the King of Akkad, the city you came here to loot and destroy.”

  The man flinched at hearing the name. “Master, I’m just a soldier. I was ordered . . .”

  “I want to learn everything you know about your army, and I may want to send a message to Lord Modran. So I’ll give you one chance to talk. If you tell me the truth, you may yet live to carry that message. If I think you’re lying, or holding anything back, I’ll have every bone in your body broken, cut out your tongue, then tie you to a horse and send you back to Modran as a warning. Do you understand?”

  Eskkar’s size and bulk, towering over the helpless prisoner, would have frightened a much stronger man. “Yes, Lord. I’ll tell you everything I know.”

  The interrogation proceeded, with Drakis and Eskkar asking questions and demanding answers so fast that the Elamite had no time to make up a good lie.

  Only once did Drakis have to use force, a brutal kick in the face that probably broke the man’s nose, and sent a fresh stream of blood trickling down the prisoner’s chin. After that, the information came forth in a rush. Thirty thousand men, more than half of them infantry. Nearly five thousand archers, and perhaps nine thousand cavalry.

  “That’s a lot more horsemen than we expected,” Drakis said, after he and Eskkar had moved away from the prisoner. “They must have pulled some cavalry from Jedidia’s force.”

  “I’m more concerned about the number of bowmen,” Eskkar said. They’re going to unleash an arrow storm against our line.”

  “Still, with so many archers, they could have swept Akkad’s walls clear of defenders.” Drakis rubbed the scar on his face, the wound he’d received years ago fighting on those very walls. “Better to meet them here.”

  Drakis spoke the truth about the futility of trying to defend Akkad. Early on, Eskkar and his senior commanders had realized that they could not put enough bowmen on the walls to resist such numbers – not when the enemy could mass thousands of archers against a single point of the wall.

  Eskkar shrugged. Right or wrong, they were committed to fight here, in the Dellen Pass. “Let’s just hope the rest of our men and supplies reach us before the enemy can attack in force.”

  By midmorning, a large force of Elamite cavalry appeared, at least a thousand strong. They held their position at the base of the trail, well out of range, and stared up the slope at the Akkadians. Muta ordered half his horsemen to mount up, just in case the Elamites decided to attack.

  But then the first of Eskkar’s soldiers arrived. Not the bowmen, or even the infantry, but the slingers, still staggering under the weight of bronze and stone missiles they carried. Eskkar rode out to meet Shappa, leading the ragged column. If the slingers had managed to get here, the rest of the army couldn’t be far behind.

  With a sigh of relief, Shappa dropped his sack of stones, and let his shoulders sag for a moment. “The archers are only a few miles back, Captain. My men decided they didn’t want to miss the fight, so we got up in the middle of the night and pushed on ahead. You should have heard the spearmen cursing us when we passed them by.”

  Eskkar smiled. He could indeed imagine the language. No part of the army wanted to arrive last and even worse, be led to the battlefield by a force of boys and young men. “Well, I’m glad you’re here. The Elamite cavalry is just down the slope. As soon as they get a few more reinforcements, I’m sure they’ll attack.”

  “Where do you want my men? In the rocks?”

  “No. For now, split them in half, on either side of the Pass. That should give you a clear field.”

  Shappa nodded. “And Captain, this morning a messenger caught up with me. Luka sent word that Daro and Orodes broke through the mountains and reached the sea, with Hathor’s cavalry right behind them. That was,” Shappa had to use his fingers to count, “five days ago.”

  “So the battle for Sumer may have already started,” Eskkar said. “Let’s hope Hathor and Naxos catch them by surprise.”

  “Luka will be coming here as soon as he gets a horse.” Shappa laughed. “He won’t want to stay in Akkad while his men are here. Besides, Luka is probably sick of Orodes by now.”

  Eskkar could smile at that, too. Orodes might be a Master Miner and the richest man in Akkad, but he remained an unpleasant and annoying person. Eskkar clasped Shappa on the shoulder. “You and Luka have both done well. Now get your men in place. Tell them they’ll have to wait for food and water until the supply men arrive.”

  Six hundred slingers weren’t going to be as effective fighters as an equal number of archers, but they would still be a force to be reckoned with. At close range, their missiles would be almost as deadly as an arrow.

  Eskkar rode back to the cairn marking the center of the trail. More enemy horsemen had arrived, but they observed the steady trickle of men coming to reinforce the Akkadian cavalry. The Elamite cavalry showed little inclination to attack a mixed force of horsemen and foot soldiers.

  And so the two sides, little more than half a mile apart, watched each other until almost dusk. As the shadows darkened in the Pass, Eskkar knew the likelihood of battle for the day had ended. Clearly, the Elamites wouldn’t find the prospect of charging uphill in the darkness appealing.

  Before the light faded against the high cliff walls, Mitrac and the first elements of Akkadian bowmen arrived, stumbling along, bent over beneath their loads of weapons and stocks of arrows. Eskkar greeted the late arrivals, until it grew too dark for anyone to see much of anything. But by then he had most of his archers, and even a few hundred of Alexar’s infantry.

  At last Eskkar turned away to get some rest, leaving Drakis and Muta to take charge of the camp, and distribute the newly arrived men. Just before Eskkar fell asleep, he had time for one satisfying thought. Without a day to spare, he’d managed to assemble his men before his enemy. Either his luck, or more likely, Trella’s planning, had held up once again.

  Chapter 27

  In the morning, Lord Modran and his commanders rode up to the vanguard of his army. Reports had come in until well after dark last night, so he knew he faced a sizeable force of Akkadians. But one look up the slope of the Pass, and he realized the full extent of the situation. The Akkadians had chosen a favorable place to fight, and
Modran could see a thin line of enemy reinforcements continually arriving.

  Better, Modran decided, to attack now in case even more Akkadians were coming. He turned to his second in command, General Martiya. “We’ll attack at once. Collect the archers and have them provide cover. Use Jedidia’s rabble to lead the charge. That way they can prove themselves to our men.”

  King Shirudukh, at the very last moment, had assigned the invasion targets for each of his generals. At the same time, in a clear sign of disfavor, the King had transferred seven thousand of Jedidia’s foot and horse soldiers to Lord Modran. General Jedidia, left with only his cavalry force of six thousand men, found himself assigned to invade the countryside north of Akkad. As everyone knew, there were no cities or even large villages of significance, and nothing much worth looting.

  With those simple orders, Shirudukh had weakened General Jedidia’s power, and bestowed the King’s favor on Modran. Even Grand Commander Chaiyanar had benefited, assigned the easily-plucked city of Sumer. Needless to say, Jedidia’s protests had gone unheeded.

  “The northern lands are very important to us.” King Shirudukh could scarcely keep the smile from his face. “You will have other chances to distinguish yourself in the future, General Jedidia.”

  The King’s soothing voice did nothing to lessen Jedidia’s humiliation, visible in his flushed face and clenched teeth.

  Even now, Modran smiled at the memory of Jedidia’s repressed fury. Modran had control of Elam’s largest army, and received the most valuable target, the city of Akkad. He would come out of this campaign with unimaginable wealth and power, so much so that Jedidia would never again be a threat.

  But first, Modran would have to brush aside these Akkadians seeking to delay his passage through the mountains. While General Martiya shouted orders, Modran found a rocky hillock off to the side of the column that provided a good view of the enemy, only a half mile ahead.