Conflict of Empires

by Sam Barone

  Shulgi understood the trap Eskkar had set for him. If he ignored the wretched survivors, left them to starve, his troops would begin muttering against him. If he ordered his men to share their own meager food with them, his soldiers would be forced to do with less, and his entire army would be slowed down in the process. Gritting his teeth, Shulgi acceded to the need to share his supplies.

  Almost all who had survived the city’s fall repeated that the Akkadians planned to march on Sumer. Shulgi wasn’t so sure. The further south Eskkar went, the greater the danger to the Akkadians increased. Even if he reached Sumer, the city wasn’t likely to fall overnight, like Larsa. Shulgi had already dispatched a company of horsemen to warn Kushanna that the Akkadian army might be on the march toward them and to take extra precautions. And with every step farther southward, the Akkadian supply line would be stretched thinner and thinner. Shulgi already had men working to stop the infernal boats that carried men and supplies to Eskkar’s forces.

  None of these thoughts gave Shulgi any satisfaction. He had to cross the river somewhere, and the easiest route to Eskkar’s army lay across the river. If Shulgi moved to some other crossing, he would waste another day marching, and still have to find or build boats. Better to do it here, where the abandoned men of Larsa could at least provide a labor force.

  “Razrek, set up the camp over there, away from the stink of Larsa.” The horses sensed the odor of death, too, and pawed the ground nervously, unwilling to move closer to its source. The gagging smell would last for days, perhaps longer.

  “As soon as the camp is started, send riders up and down the river, looking for boats, wood, ropes, anything we can use to build rafts.”

  He turned his horse away and trotted back to where he ordered his command tent erected. For once the servants and soldiers doing his bidding had nothing to say. Everyone avoided his gaze. Shulgi handed off his horse and sat cross-legged just outside the tent flap. He spread a map out before him and stared at its symbols. He hadn’t moved when Razrek returned.

  “I’ve sent fifty horsemen up and down the river, searching for boats.” Razrek squatted down across the map from Shulgi. “We should be able to start crossing as soon as the army arrives. That is, if Eskkar’s men are gone. Though I still think it’s a waste of time to cross if we’re going back to Sumer.”

  Shulgi lifted his gaze from the map. “Eskkar has no intention of marching to Sumer. He’s going to Isin. He wants us to dash off toward Sumer, to give him more time to take the city.”

  Razrek glanced at the map. “Why Isin? Why not Sumer? It’s not that much further.”

  “Have you wondered where Eskkar’s cavalry is?”

  “Not lately.” Razrek shrugged. “No one has seen any sign of them. As long as they’re not a threat, who cares where they’ve gone?”

  Shulgi bit off the cutting reply. Razrek had his uses, but strategy wasn’t one of them. “Eskkar cares. I think he’s sent them out into the desert. They’ve ridden north, circled around Lagash, and are probably attacking Nippur right now. Unless they’re headed to Uruk.”

  “Uruk! They’d have to ride halfway across the desert, and the Tanukhs still have plenty of men there to stop them. And they wouldn’t have any supplies.”

  “Unless there were more of those cursed boats coming down the Euphrates to resupply them.”

  “There’s no way, not by boat. Lagash sits on the Euphrates. If that many boats tried to run past them, we’d have heard about it.

  “These maps don’t show every stream and creek in Sumeria, and the Euphrates has more than one branch going south. I spoke with several men from Lagash. They say there’s a good-sized stream that bypasses Lagash before running down to Uruk.”

  “Even if Eskkar’s horsemen did reach Uruk, they would never be able to take the city. They have no archers. There’s not enough of them to force an attack.”

  “True. Unless they rode in from the west unexpectedly and stormed the city at night. Or if Eskkar has more agents in Uruk to open the gates for him. Larsa fell almost as soon as he arrived, remember that.”

  That city’s survivors had related the story of men climbing unhindered over the wall.

  Razrek licked his lips. The less he heard about Larsa the better. “We should send a warning to Uruk and Nippur, and Lagash, too. Let them know –”

  “It’s too late for that.” Shulgi shook his head. “I should have thought of this earlier. The Akkadian cavalry rode off six days ago. It would take us three days to get a rider to Lagash, and at least two to reach Uruk from here, probably two and a half days. There are two wide rivers to cross, remember. If Eskkar’s cavalry is going to Lagash, they’re already there. If they’re going to Uruk, they’ll be there the day after tomorrow.”

  “They’ll be spotted. Lagash will send word down the river to warn the other cities.”

  “Unless Eskkar’s horsemen ride deeper into the desert. This Hathor that commands them, they say he came to Akkad across that very desert. That he knows much about desert fighting. And the Tanukhs would be caught off-guard. With the Salibs destroyed, they have no enemies to raid them.”

  Razrek grimaced. “Hathor is a renegade Egyptian who begged for his life, and was saved from the torture by Eskkar’s witch-wife. No one knows why. But even if Hathor knows the desert, it still makes for hard traveling. He would need supplies, hay for the horses, food for his men.”

  “All of which could have been prepared and stored months ago. Or there’s an even easier way. The villages of the Tanukhs have plenty of food and fodder in them, especially now.”

  Even Razrek knew enough to glance around, to make sure no Tanukhs could hear the conversation. The Tanukh horsemen made up almost a third of Razrek’s cavalry. They retained their own leaders, and fought only for gold and the chance to loot their enemies. Razrek had unleashed them on the Akkadian farmlands, but they somehow managed to devastate and pillage almost as many Sumerian farmers in the process. Brutal and cunning, they were like jackals. They struck only when their enemy appeared weak, and stole anything and everything they could get their hands on. Against a strong enemy, they were as likely to turn and run.

  “If the Tanukhs think that Akkad has horsemen raiding their lands,” Razrek said, “they’ll race home as fast as they can ride.”

  “It might almost be worth it, for all the trouble they’ve caused.”

  The Tanukhs had created more problems for Razrek and the rest of the Sumerian army than any other group. Everyone hated them. They had only joined the Sumerian cause because of Shulgi’s gold, and the promise of more loot from Akkad when the city fell.

  “If they left, they would keep Eskkar’s cavalry off our backs.”

  Shulgi shook his head. “Even if they stayed together, the Tanukhs wouldn’t number much more than the Akkadians. They’d never face Eskkar’s horsemen in battle. Hathor would ride right through them, if they tried to stop him. No, better to keep them here, where they can be useful.”

  “Well, what are we going to do?”

  “We’re not going to tell anyone about our suspicions of where Eskkar’s cavalry might be. We’re going to need every horseman we have, even the Tanukhs, when we come to grips with the Akkadians.”

  “You think Eskkar will stand and fight?”

  “When he’s ready, he’ll attack us. He intends to wear us down, weaken us by marching up and down Sumeria, wait until our supplies are low. Then he’ll attack.”

  Razrek wasn’t convinced. “You think Eskkar has planned all this out in advance? It would have taken days, months …”

  “Yes, I think he has. The barbarian – or perhaps his witch-wife Trella – has prepared for this war for at least a year, maybe longer. We thought we had given him only two choices, to march south and fight us at Kanesh, or wait for us to come to Akkad. Instead, he’s devised another way, and unless we start out-thinking him, Eskkar may end up nailing our hides to Akkad’s gate.”

  “But he doesn’t have enough men,” Razrek protested. “
He’ll never face us in battle.”

  “I underestimated Eskkar once,” Shulgi said. “And now Larsa is gone, along with most of our supplies. I’m not doing it again. We’re going to make him fight us when we’re ready.”

  “How will we do that? He’s already proven he can out-march our men, and we don’t have enough horsemen to stop his army.”

  “First we have to make sure Isin holds. If he captures that city, he can march in any direction, south toward Sumer or north to Lagash and Nippur. Whichever way we march, he’ll move in the opposite direction.”

  “Isin’s been warned. Eskkar won’t be able to take it, not before we can reach him. Naxos is not some merchant who can be brushed aside, like Naran.”

  “I’m telling you, Eskkar already has a plan to take the city. Just like he did at Larsa. The best way to stop him is to send all the soldiers and horsemen from Isin back to their city. We’ve got three thousand men from Isin in our ranks, and a third of them are cavalry. Send as many as you can get on horseback at once. They should be able to reach the city before Eskkar’s foot soldiers get there.”

  “And if they can’t, if they arrive too late?”

  “Tell them to ride the horses to death, whatever it takes to save their city. Send any horsemen from Larsa, too. They’ll understand what losing Isin means. Meanwhile, I’m going to stop these boats that have been resupplying Eskkar’s forces. Without them, he can’t move as fast or as far. If Isin can hold out for a few days, we’ll catch up with him and crush him there.”

  “What about our own supplies?”

  The mountain of supplies that had been laboriously transported to Kanesh now languished there. Shulgi knew it would take more than a few days to get even a portion of those goods moving south again.

  “I’ve already sent word to Sumer. They’ll load every boat they can find and send it upriver to Isin. Your horsemen will have to make sure that we get those supplies, not the Akkadians. And you can do that while you find and finish the Akkadian cavalry. When they’re finished with Lagash, or more likely, Uruk, they’ll head east to rejoin Eskkar. Once they’re reunited, that’s when they’ll be ready for the final battle.”

  “And if you’re wrong, if Eskkar marches toward Sumer?”

  “Then Sumer will have to hold out. But even if it falls, the barbarian will have no way to escape.”

  “You don’t care about your own city, Shulgi?”

  “The city can always be rebuilt, Razrek. If Eskkar is dead and his army smashed, we can take Akkad at our leisure, and win the war. A few cities lost along the way are a small price to build an empire. Now get moving, and get those men on their way to Isin. By tomorrow I want them well on their way.”

  51

  Day 7

  Well after dawn, Eskkar and Grond rode to the top of the bluff overlooking the Tigris. Across the river lay the ruins of what had been Larsa, where a few fires still smoldered and sent wisps of smoke into the air. The advance elements of Shulgi’s army had arrived yesterday afternoon and established a camp just beyond the ruined walls. Before long, scouting parties rode north and south, no doubt looking for anything they could use to get men across the river. Today would see the rest of the Sumerians march into view.

  Shulgi must have decided to cross here, which meant he wouldn’t waste any time going north toward Akkad or south to defend Sumer. Eskkar hadn’t expected that, and frowned at the implications. “He’s going to stick to our heels.”

  “Well, you couldn’t expect Shulgi to keep making mistakes. Sooner or later, he had to do something right.”

  The Sumerian king had lost the tactical advantage twice, once when he let the Akkadians slip past him at Kanesh, and again when he let Hathor’s cavalry ride off uncontested. Perhaps even a third time, when he wasted Razrek’s horsemen trying to save Larsa.

  “I almost wish we had the means to send a raiding party back across the water. With some luck, they might catch Shulgi off guard. His death would go a long way to ending the war.”

  “No doubt Shulgi has the same ideas about you.”

  Neither force could cross the river for now. Shortly after the Sumerians were sighted, the boats that had ferried the Akkadians across the river were dragged onto the riverbank, broken up and burned. Without boats, neither side could harm the other. Instead, the tired Sumerian cavalry would now have to search up and down the river, looking for boats or anything else that would float to help them ferry their soldiers across.

  Meanwhile, Eskkar’s soldiers rested in their camp, while he and Grond stared across the Tigris, watching the weary enemy straggle into camp. The Sumerians arrived in ragged groups, the result of their rush to Larsa, which had spread their force as the better-trained and conditioned elements moved faster than those slower of foot. Nevertheless, the entire Sumerian army would be at Larsa by midday, joining with those who had ridden in yesterday.

  Eskkar watched as the enemy soldiers – no doubt as soon as their commanders dismissed them – moved toward the river, to get a better view of the ruins of the city. He remembered a saying of his clan: a sword can cut two ways. According to Trella’s spies, the Sumerians had begun this war with high spirits, eager for conquest and glory. Now those same soldiers had learned a grim lesson. War had come to their land, and struck down their own kind as mercilessly as they had killed the farmers and villagers living along the Akkadian border.

  Even more important, Shulgi and his commanders had learned that same lesson. The Sumerians had captured a few outposts and destroyed crops. Outposts could be rebuilt and new seeds planted. Meanwhile, Eskkar had overwhelmed and destroyed one of their cities. That loss would not be replaced easily, as new supply lines and depots would have to be established, a lengthy and laborious process.

  Eskkar had ridden to the bluff so that the enemy could see him, just out of reach of Shulgi’s vast army. Some of the Sumerians would be angry and eager to strike a blow in revenge. But others would be worrying about losing their own lives, or their own city. When men ride to war, the sword indeed can cut two ways.

  “They don’t look very happy,” Grond remarked.

  The Sumerians had noticed the little party of Akkadians watching them from the bluffs. A distant muttering of angry voices floated across the river, and Eskkar saw men jumping up and down in anger, unable to control their rage at the Akkadians who had burned their city. Voices couldn’t carry over such a distance, but a few began to bang their swords against their shields, unable to do anything more.

  “Many of those soldiers are from Larsa,” Eskkar said. “They’re wondering what happened to their families, their wives, whether they are alive or dead.”

  “Some will go off looking for their kin, I expect.”

  “Shulgi won’t allow that. None of them dare come closer to the ruins. If he lets even one of Larsa’s soldiers depart, they’ll all desert.”

  “And we just stay here all day?”

  “Our men need to rest, and we might as well do it here as anywhere. Besides, this way we can use up most of the food we took from Larsa. It will be that much less to carry. Shulgi’s soldiers will be tightening their belts tonight. They’ll find little to eat but what they carried with them.”

  “And you think Shulgi will cross here and follow us to Isin?”

  “If not here, then somewhere nearby. He must know where we intend to go by now. I just hope he hasn’t figured out where Hathor has gone.”

  “Even if Shulgi does, Hathor will be fine. He knows …” Grond moved his eyes to the north. “There’s a boat coming down the river.”

  Eskkar gazed up the expanse of the Tigris, lined on both sides with small trees and rushes. The height of the bluff, about a hundred paces, provided a good vantage point. A faint blur of white showed a ship under sail, taking advantage of a favorable breeze to race down the waterway. “We’re not expecting any more of Yavtar’s ships. It could be Sumerian.”

  The last of the river craft had set out yesterday for Akkad. No more boats would be linking
up with Eskkar’s army until he reached his next destination.

  “I don’t think that’s … it’s moving too fast to be Sumerian,” Grond said. “It must be one of Yavtar’s messenger boats.”

  Built for speed, the small but trim craft carried a taller sail and more than enough rowers to race a boat up or downriver.

  By now Eskkar’s eyes picked up more detail. Definitely a messenger boat piloted by a fearless master, to sail his craft right toward the heart of the Sumerian army. “Let’s get down to the water before Shulgi finds some way to sink the boat.”

  They wheeled their horses around and cantered away from the edge of the bluff. It took a few moments to reach the bottom. They rode along the back of the hill until they reached the opening that led to what had been the western side docks for the city of Larsa.

  When they reached the water’s edge, they found themselves joining a growing crowd of Akkadian soldiers. Other eyes had spotted the boat and come to the same conclusion. Every man in the army wanted to know what news it carried.

  Eskkar didn’t have to wait long. The boat moved towards them, six rowers on each side propelling the craft through the calm waters. When the ship drew closer, the sail came down. Eskkar saw the oarsmen slow their strokes and lean back, letting the steersman guide the vessel through the currents. A man stood in the prow of the boat.

  “It’s Draelin!” Someone with keen eyes recognized one of Daro’s subcommanders.

  A moment later, the craft hissed onto the sandy riverbank. Before it stopped moving, Draelin leapt off the bow and splashed his way through the mud, ignoring those soldiers helping pull the boat up on the shore. Instead, he headed straight for the king.

  Eskkar swung down from his horse just as Draelin arrived. Whatever news the soldier carried, it couldn’t be bad, not with a grin that broad on his face.

  “Lord Eskkar,” Draelin began, but words failed him. He threw his arms around Eskkar and hugged him tight. Some of the soldiers standing around laughed at the sight. Before Eskkar could react, Draelin pushed away. “Lord Eskkar, I bring you –”