Clash Of Empires (The Eskkar Saga)

by Sam Barone

  Before Modran fell to the ground, Jedidia bellowed out for his men. A drum began to beat, but already Jedidia’s personal guards rushed from the hut to protect him, their blades drawn or arrows nocked to the bowstrings.

  Modran’s guards, picked from the ranks of the Immortals, sat on their horses, stunned by the swift and unexpected killing. Their leader drew his sword, but immediately two arrows struck him down. Before the rest could decide what to do, the sound of five hundred horsemen galloping toward the village center drew the eyes of the Immortals and halted every movement.

  Zathras, alerted by the drum, led his men from the east toward the center of the village. From across the fields to the south, another five hundred men heard the signal and rode toward Zanbil. Other units appeared as well. In moments, Jedidia’s entire force, nearly six thousand men, raced toward the village.

  Some of Modran’s loyal guards drew their swords and moved toward Jedidia. But he lowered his bloody sword and raised his empty left hand. “Modran was a traitor to King Shirudukh, who sentenced him to death. By order of the King, if you do not lay down your arms, my men will kill all of you as traitors.”

  The chilling threat stopped Modran’s men, some still with their swords half-drawn. They could see the thousands of horsemen charging toward them. While the remnants of Modran’s defeated army might outnumber Jedidia’s force, that army, if the ragged mass of hungry stragglers could even be called such, still stretched many miles throughout the Dellen Pass. With General Martiya dead or captured, and now Lord Modran fallen, his soldiers lacked any senior leaders to tell them what to do.

  A subcommander of Modran’s personal guard grasped the situation fast enough. Modran, who still twitched in the dirt at the feet of Jedidia’s horse, was already a dead man. Better to obey General Jedidia’s orders then fight another hopeless battle.

  Besides, the survivors of Modran’s army had enough of fighting. King Eskkar’s army had savaged the Elamites, including the Immortals, and hurled back the invasion. One last glance at the grim soldiers standing beside Jedidia, weapons at the ready, was more than enough.

  “We yield to the order of the King,” the man shouted. “Everyone, put away your weapons.”

  “A wise decision,” Jedidia said, as the Immortals took their hands off their swords. “What is your name?”

  “My name is Jirsa, General Jedidia.”

  “Jirsa, you are promoted to commander of these men, and you will place yourself under Commander Zathras’s orders. You and your troop will be well rewarded soon enough.”

  By then Zathras had raced his horse into the center of the village. One glance at Modran’s now motionless body told him all he needed to know. “What are your orders, General Jedidia?”

  “Prepare our riders. I intend to ride to Sushan at once, with five thousand men. You will stay behind, and as more of Modran’s scum crawl out of the Pass, get them under your authority. As soon as you have them all, march toward Sushan as fast as you can.”

  Jedidia swept his gaze over his soldiers, all of them waiting to hear his plan.

  “Men! We’re going to Sushan, and stamp out the traitors responsible for Lord Modran’s defeat by the Akkadians! And after we’ve finished, every one of you will receive five gold coins!”

  A cheer went up from his men at the prospect of some easy wealth. But no one felt more satisfaction than Jedidia. One of his enemies lay dead at his feet. Now the time had arrived for another to join him.

  C hapter 41

  The King’s Compound in Akkad . . .

  Twenty-two days after the victory at the Dellen Pass, Eskkar and Trella entered the private garden at the rear of their house. The early autumn shadows had brought a hint of coolness to the evening, and Trella wore a brown shawl over her shoulders to ward off the chill. Their sons and daughter were already seated when Eskkar and Trella turned the corner and joined the others.

  As Eskkar escorted Trella to her chair, he had time for a glance at the garden. Red and yellow tulips in pots still bloomed, and four candles burned, set on the limbs of the two trees. Two long streamers of cloth, one white and one yellow, threaded and retraced their way through the branches, a festive decoration for the very few invited to tonight’s gathering. The heady scent of jasmine, flowers and leaves crushed to bring out the pleasing tang, hung in the still air.

  For one of the very rare times, no friends, commanders, guests, or loyal followers joined the family members. Tonight the family of Eskkar and Trella dined alone.

  The servants had set the table for the private dinner. Sargon and his wife Tashanella were already seated. Zakita and Melkorak, Eskkar’s daughter and youngest son, waited until their parents took their places across from Sargon and Tashanella.

  Outside the Compound, the sounds of celebration from the city’s jubilant crowds could still be heard, and Eskkar knew the noise would continue well into the evening. The three days of celebration for the end of the Elamite War had begun today, although most in Akkad had been rejoicing since the first word of Eskkar’s victory at the Dellen Pass had arrived.

  Eskkar carried that news back himself, galloping ahead of Alexar and the soldiers. Riding through the gates, he found Akkad’s inhabitants, broad smiles on their faces, already cheering another victory.

  Yavtar had raced upriver from Sumer to bring word of the breaking of the siege and a stunning victory by Hathor and King Naxos over the Elamites. Hathor and Naxos declared their intention to remain in the south for a time, hunting down the last survivors of Grand Commander Chaiyanar’s once mighty army.

  For Eskkar, the news brought indescribable relief. The years of meticulous planning and secret preparation had brought Akkad its greatest victory. The invasion had ended, and Akkad and all the cities of the Land Between the Rivers had escaped the brutal fate King Shirudukh had decreed for them. Instead of a quick victory, the King of Elam had lost two armies.

  A body count of the enemy dead in the Dellen Pass revealed that just over thirteen thousand of Modran’s army survived the final battle. Many of those would have died of their wounds before reaching safety. The once-vaunted might of Elam had dashed itself to death against the shields of Akkad’s spearmen.

  His luck had held yet again, Eskkar decided. He’d more than half expected to die in the Dellen Pass. And he had made a decision when he returned, though he told only Trella. He would not take up weapons again, either in this war, or any future conflicts.

  The time had come for him to hang up his sword, or rather, to pass it on to another, and that’s what he intended to do. Tonight. From now on, Sargon would lead the soldiers and fighting men of Akkad.

  The day after Sargon’s return to Zanbil from the raid on Lord Modran’s horses, Sargon and a small troop of warriors had departed Elam. Some of the warriors roamed the countryside, ravaging the northern lands of the Elamites.

  But Chief Bekka and most of his men had lingered near the mouth of the Dellen Pass, and two days after General Jedidia departed south, the Alur Meriki and Ur Nammu had fallen on the survivors of Lord Modran’s army at Zanbil. Despite being outnumbered, they slaughtered thousands of weak and hungry Elamite soldiers. With that, the final battle of the war, the steppes warriors effectively destroyed the rest of Modran’s army as a fighting force.

  Afterward, the warriors sent back to the northern lands many of their riders escorting over two thousand horses, in three different herds. That staggering number that would ensure the Alur Meriki remained a potent force for many years. The Ur Nammu had also received a generous share of the captured herds, more than enough for their warriors.

  After completing the arduous journey across the mountains, Sargon rejoiced to find a smiling Garal, thought to be dead in the Dellen Pass. After resting for a single day at the camp of the Alur Meriki, Sargon rode south and joined his wife.

  Staying with her family and the Ur Nammu, Tashanella waited for her husband’s return. Sargon rested at the main Ur Nammu camp for several days before husband and wife set out fo
r Akkad.

  Sargon and Tashanella had arrived in the city only yesterday. Wanting to travel as fast as possible, they left their young daughter in the care of Tashanella’s mother.

  Today Sargon and Tashanella, escorted by Hawk Clan guards, had walked the streets and lanes of the city. Everywhere they went, large crowds appeared, cheering the King’s son. Everyone in Akkad knew the daring role Sargon had played during the conflict.

  The inhabitants had always considered him to be one of their own since he was a child, the city’s first born Akkadian. His past indiscretions had long since been forgotten. The serious young man who nodded and smiled at the crowd had replaced the callow youth.

  Holding his wife’s hand, Sargon had guided her through the tumultuous crowds. Her eyes wide with excitement, Tashanella, arrayed in the finest garments Trella could buy, had received almost as many cheers as her husband.

  Much of that, of course, resulted from the careful preparations of Annok-sur and the women in her employ, but few in the cheering crowds noticed that. By her marriage to Sargon, Tashanella had become an Akkadian, and the city’s inhabitants accepted her as one of their own. The Ur Nammu and Alur Meriki had also shared in the glory, and so Tashanella accepted the cheers in their name.

  The resulting praise for the heir to the City of Akkad had been almost as great as that given to Eskkar, exactly as Trella desired. The day before Eskkar’s return, when Yavtar’s messengers brought the first news of victory at Sumer, the people of Akkad had held one day of festivity. Though that outpouring paled in comparison to the one honoring Eskkar when he returned to the city with the news of the defeat of Elam’s main army of invasion.

  Today’s jubilant celebration portended something else besides another victory over Akkad’s enemies. In a way, it sealed the unwritten contract between Eskkar and Trella, and the people of Akkad. His parents had anointed Sargon as their heir for all to see, and the entire city had also acclaimed and accepted their future ruler. Eskkar and Trella’s line would endure, and Sargon was the living proof.

  Sargon and Tashanella, still flushed with the day’s excitement, had returned to the Compound only moments before. Now they could relax and enjoy the intimate family dinner.

  Taking up the wine pitcher, Eskkar poured some into everyone’s cup, letting each of them add as much or as little water as they preferred. Then he lifted his own cup high. “Tonight our family holds its own celebration. Tonight I want to give thanks to Sargon for the role he played in our victory. If he had not broken Lord Modran’s supply line, none of us might be here.”

  Everyone else raised their cups and offered their own words of praise to Sargon.

  “But there is much that still remains to be done,” Eskkar went on, “and the most important work of all lies ahead. Starting tomorrow, we must plan for the future of our family, and our children yet to be born. Each of us here tonight, and our friends, must create the future that we desire – or else others will do it for us. That is why we must all work together, to ensure that everyone here, and your children and their children’s children, all have a part in the Empire of Akkad that is to come.”

  He turned to Trella, who smiled approval, then lifted her cup and offered her own toast. “Eskkar and Sargon have enabled us to win a great victory, a victory so complete that it will be many, many years before Elam or any other land dares offer a challenge to Akkad. Father and son risked their lives not for glory or power, but to protect all of us here at this table. Nor should we ever let ourselves forget what debt we owe to so many of our friends. Yavtar, Alexar, Muta, Drakis, Hathor, Daro, Draelin, Shappa, and all the others who labored and risked their own lives to protect ours. Even King Naxos of Isin and King Gemama of Sumer have contributed to our victory and our salvation, as did Chief Bekka and Chief Subutai. Without all these leaders working together, Akkad might have fallen. That is a lesson all of us must remember. I expect that we will see even greater cooperation between our cities in the future.”

  “That is why everyone in this family needs to work together,” Eskkar placed his hand over his wife’s, “to protect and care for each other. If we do not care for each other, who will? One thing Trella and I have learned, is that a single man cannot lead or rule so many by himself. He needs his family, friends, and loyal supporters. They are the ones who will help us hold what we have against the many enemies who would take it from us.”

  “And there will be others,” Trella said, “enemies from within and from without. If we as a family do not stand together against them, then sooner or later, we will be destroyed or replaced, and our rule will have ended. If we do not care for one another, then whatever we may accomplish will count for nothing.”

  She turned to Melkorak and Zakita. “You are both old enough now to play a role in the governing of the city. Sargon will rule in Akkad one day, after Eskkar and I are gone, and he will need your help, even as you will need his. The ties between brothers and sister are strong, and you must lean on each other’s strength. Remember that, when others try to step between you, or attempt to manipulate you to their own ends.”

  “When I was a boy growing up in the Alur Meriki,” Eskkar said, “every man and woman knew the most important loyalty was to their family. The family first, then kin, then clan. Sometimes the family needs more than we want to give. Sometimes the way will be hard, but honor demands much from each of us. In the north, Sargon risked his life many times to safeguard his wife, Tashanella, and his friends and companions. Then he risked it again by riding to Elam to help protect his mother and father, and his sister and brother. Honor, family honor, should always be your guide in the days and years ahead.”

  Eskkar let his gaze rest for a moment on each person at the table. They were, after all, the only people that he truly loved.

  “Now I think it is time to enjoy not only our food,” Eskkar said, “but the company each of us gives to the others. May all of you live long lives and achieve great tasks, and keep our family’s honor high.”

  “Yes, now we can eat,” Trella said. She summoned the servants, waiting nearby. Soon food covered the table, and the meal began.

  “Father, what news comes from Elam?” Tashanella, her hand still resting on Sargon’s arm, asked the question. She knew a messenger had arrived at the Compound just before the repast began.

  “Ah, we have just learned that the Elamites have a new ruler,” Eskkar said. “It seems that King Shirudukh was betrayed and murdered in his own palace by General Jedidia, who then seized the throne. Before that, he also managed to slay Lord Modran. With so many deaths in their leaders’ ranks, there will likely be revolts in many of their cities, and long years of fighting amongst themselves. Trella believes the Elamite Empire may not even survive. Meanwhile, your mother and I are working on a suitable gift for the new ruler, one that we think will keep Elam occupied for the future.”

  “Yes, we are nearly ready to send a very special message to General Jedidia,” Trella said, “but one that I think the new king will not be happy to receive.”

  The talk turned to lighter subjects, as everyone relaxed and enjoyed the first family reunion since the war began.

  “Father, I’m curious about one thing,” Sargon said. “Who was the man who first brought the warning of the coming war with Elam? Shouldn’t he receive some praise as well?”

  Eskkar drummed his fingers on the table, then glanced at Trella. “The stranger who came in the night . . . Trella and I have sworn never to divulge his name, unless some new danger threatens our family in the future. Perhaps someday we will reveal his name. But for now, that must be one mystery that remains unsolved.”

  “Yes, that is for the best,” Trella agreed. “But we will repay him for his warning. If he still lives, I have an idea about how best to do that. I believe he will find it a most interesting and pleasant surprise.”

  Soon everyone was busy with their meal. Eskkar, however, left his food untouched for a few moments. His gaze rested first on Sargon, then Zakita, and Melkora
k. His sons and daughter. The ones who would carry his blood down through the ages yet to come, the ones who would make certain his name would always be remembered.

  Trella had spoken the truth. There would be many more challenges in the future. But for the first time, Eskkar knew that he would not need to face them by himself. His family and his loyal friends would shoulder much of the burden. Eskkar’s remaining years would be devoted not to war, but to peace. It was past time, he decided, to study the stars and learn what he could from the wise men, as the old shepherd had advised Eskkar many years before.

  He remembered Trella’s words, whispered in his ear long ago, when she had challenged him to become someone greater than himself. From that day, he had worked hard to build the city that she wanted, and now others, his heirs, would someday turn that into a mighty empire. For the first time since that first day, Eskkar felt worthy of the extraordinary woman who sat at his side.

  “Is something wrong with the food, Husband?”

  “No, Wife.” He smiled, then clasped her hand in both of his and held it tight. “Everything is as it should be.”

  Chapter 42

  The Elamite Palace at Sushan . . .

  Just awakened from a deep sleep, King Jedidia stepped onto his palace balcony. One look, and his teeth clenched in a seething rage. Oblivious to the cold night breeze on his naked body, Jedidia watched the harbor of Sushan burn.

  Tall pillars of flame along the water’s edge lit the night, and sent long red shimmers reflecting off the black water. Even from a quarter mile away, Jedidia heard the crackle of the fires above the shouts of the frantic boatmen struggling to save their vessels.

  Not that the harbor itself was actually burning. But twenty or thirty of Sushan’s boats, crowded together along the docks and shoreline, blazed furiously. Several nearby storage depots were also in flames, fed by the cargoes stored under their awnings and covered porticos.