by Sam Barone
Eskkar had seen it himself. Even men in training could thrust hard enough to penetrate a Sumerian shield, and that effort sometimes snapped the shaft.
“A heavier and longer weapon will slow them down on the march.”
Such weapons would cost more, too, but neither man worried about that. Trella had already collected a good supply of gold from Nuzi, and the first shipment of silver arrived only days ago.
“That’s one reason why I want to toughen them up. You saw this group. Almost all of them are bigger and stronger than most of the men in Akkad. With the right training . . . I want to train all the spear-carriers every day, work them until they can’t even stand. Remember what Mitrac’s father did with the archers.”
“Working the archers didn’t involve them ending up bleeding and bruised. You won’t be popular with these spearmen.”
“I don’t care, and neither do you, for all your fine speeches. I remember when you couldn’t say three words without stumbling over the fourth.”
Eskkar grunted. Somehow Gatus always managed to annoy him, remind him of the days when Eskkar seldom spoke more than a dozen words from dawn to dusk. Trella, of course, was responsible for his new-found eloquence. But the two remained friends, the way that two men who have fought side by side against overwhelming numbers always do, no matter what words pass between them.
“Do what you like with them, Gatus. I know you will anyway. Just make sure that when the time comes, they’ll march and fight better than any force Sumer can put in front of them. Remember, they’ll be facing two or three times as many enemies.”
“That’s why I want to train them harder. First, I’ll show them how soft and clumsy they are, then rebuild them, toughen them up, until they’re stronger than any fighting men in Akkad. When I’m finished training them, they’ll be the finest fighting force in the land. Just make sure you don’t waste their lives to protect your precious horse fighters.”
“I know how to use my riders when the time comes, don’t worry about that. What else do you have planned?”
“I want them to master every possible way to fight with a spear. I want to teach them how to brace a spear against the ground, to stop a charging enemy, even if he’s on horseback. I want my men to learn to thrust with the spear just using their arms, until they can hit a man in the face or groin every time. Another technique I want them to master is to hold the spear tight against their bodies, and deliver the thrust by stepping forward. Or use a long thrust with one hand, or two hands stepping forward, with one or both feet. When they’ve mastered all those ways to kill a man, I’ll teach them how to throw the spear on the run. I’ve practiced it myself, and found it’s best to release the weapon when the opposite foot is forward.”
Eskkar felt the surprise cover his face. “How long have you been thinking about all this?”
“Months. Almost from the beginning. But I had to know what they could do before I tried to teach them any of these new tricks. The last thing I want them to master is swinging the spear. If a man swings the spear from side to side, the tip of the blade will slice right through flesh and bone. If the spear is moving fast enough, even the shaft will cause injury. That trick will give a spearman a chance, if he’s alone and in open ground against more than one opponent.”
“How long is all this going to take?”
Gatus laughed. “If I told you, you wouldn’t believe me. But the wait will be worth it, I promise. When I’m done, these men will wield a spear as easily as you whirl your sword around. And they’ll fight through twice their number with ease.”
“They may have to.” Eskkar shook his head, this time in admiration at what Gatus had already accomplished. “You’ve done well, Gatus. I mean that. And now, I’ll get back to my work, and let you continue with yours. Just keep moving the men up north.”
Gatus kept the number of men he was training in Akkad’s barracks at about one hundred, more or less. What most people didn’t notice was that as the men grew more proficient, small groups were moved north, to be replaced by new recruits. Sumer’s spies would count the number of men in training, but hopefully wouldn’t notice the gradual movement north, or at least not be able to count the entire force.
“Will you join us at the tavern tonight?”
“Oh, yes. After what you’ve shown me, and told me, I think I’m going to need a large cup of strong ale. Just make sure you tell Trella about the new weapons you want. I’m sure they’re going to cost more gold.”
“Which will be nothing compared to what you’re spending on horses.”
Eskkar pushed himself to his feet. “Talking with you makes my head ache. If you don’t mind, I think I’ll ride to the north tomorrow. At least up there I won’t have to argue with you all day.”
28
The first portion of Eskkar’s journey to the lands north of Bisitun was by riverboat. In the last few months, he received several reports regarding the training at the horse camp, and wanted to observe the men’s progress himself. Each departure from Akkad now required careful preparations. As usual, Trella wanted as few people as possible to know when her husband had left the city. Whenever Eskkar departed, the Hawk Clan guards increased their security around Trella, and Gatus and Bantor kept the soldiers on heightened alert. There would be no repeat of someone trying to seize the city by force while Eskkar was gone.
Any who enquired about Eskkar’s whereabouts would be told that he was occupied with important matters and remaining in the Compound. To help maintain secrecy on this trip, the first stage of the journey to Bisitun would be by boat. Eskkar riding out of Akkad on horseback, day or night, would certainly have attracted notice. But few paid much attention to what went on at the docks, especially in the early morning. Eskkar and his companions boarded their vessels before first light, and the two boats departed as soon as the sun cleared the horizon.
Yavtar commanded the boat that carried the king and seven of his guards. Another eight rode in the second vessel. For this visit, the men Eskkar took with him had all been carefully chosen by Hathor. All were archers, and more important, all knew how to ride. For that very reason, Grond remained in Akkad. The big man could ride, but was no horseman, and Eskkar wanted skilled horsemen only. Meanwhile, Grond’s presence moving about the city would convince many that King Eskkar remained within the Compound.
The river journey to the north had another purpose. Yavtar’s men had finished two new boats, and he wanted Eskkar to inspect them. The boat captain had taken over a farm about ten miles north of Bisitun, and installed everything needed to build and test the new boats that Eskkar and his commanders required.
Two days after departing Akkad, the ships rowed past Bisitun during the late afternoon, and reached the small jetty of Yavtar’s farm just after dusk. Every member of the crew slumped against the oars, exhausted from driving the boats upriver. Eskkar had taken a hand with the oars, unwilling to sit idle while others worked. Besides, he wanted to get a feel for the boats that plied the river, and he enjoyed every chance to work his muscles. By now he’d overcome his initial worries about being on the water, and almost managed to enjoy the trip.
Once on shore, they ate a quick meal, then relaxed over a few cups of ale. The difficult journey upriver made sure every man slept well that night. In the morning, as soon as the sun had begun its journey across the heavens, Yavtar brought the three soldiers stationed at the dockyard and more than a dozen villagers to meet their king. Since this was Eskkar’s first visit, he took the time to ask each one his name, and say something encouraging. They might be mere carpenters or laborers, but these were the men who would build the boats Akkad needed. Most just stood there, wide-eyed, and afraid to say anything to the man who ruled their world.
Yavtar’s shipyard, as everyone called the place, didn’t look like much. Three small houses, a few sheds, and a corral that held the dozen or so horses that would take Eskkar and his guards on the next part of their journey.
The most impressive part of the shipy
ard was the dock itself.
Built with sturdy wood from the northern lands, it had enough slips to hold seven vessels. Three of the slips were occupied – two with Yavtar’s boats that had just carried them up the river, while the third slip held a craft that had arrived yesterday from the north carrying more lumber.
“This may not look like much now, Captain, but when we have forty or fifty men building ships, all those slips will be filled, I promise. Almost all the wood needed to construct our ships comes down the river. Just not enough big trees near Akkad.”
Most of the trees in the land between the rivers were willows or date palms, and even Eskkar knew that their wood wasn’t hard or dense enough for major projects. Good enough for cups, bowls, small tables and chairs, but not for much else. The gates that provided entry into Akkad had all been built from trees floated downriver from the northern forests.
“With the docks in place,” Yavtar continued, “we can load and unload all we need, at the same time we can keep two or three of our new boats floating there while we work on them. But now let me show what I wanted you to see.”
Not far from the docks Yavtar had established four construction cradles. Boats in various stages of assembly rested on each of them. He guided Eskkar to the first cradle, where a half-finished boat sat on its blocks.
“This is the third one we’ve started. The first two didn’t meet your needs, so we tore them apart and started over. But this one will, I think. At least, it will last long enough for us to learn all we need.”
“It doesn’t look any bigger than what’s plying the river now.”
“It is at least five paces longer than my longest riverboat. But what’s more important is that it’s almost two paces wider, and with a steeper pitch to its sides. That means it will ride lower in the water.”
“Why is that important?” Trella had finally overcome Eskkar’s reluctance to admit that he didn’t know everything, and he no longer hesitated to ask questions. Making assumptions, he’d learned, almost always led to mistakes.
“You wanted boats that could carry plenty of men, especially archers, as well as large cargoes to resupply your fighters. But if we’ve got a dozen archers shooting arrows at the shore or another ship, the boat will tip over at the slightest movement. So we need to have a way to keep it stable. Since we won’t be carrying any fragile cargoes, like wine or pottery, we can take advantage of heavier ballast. My builders have worked on an idea that we’ll need to test, but I think it will work.”
Eskkar couldn’t help laughing. “I’ve never seen you so excited. You seem to enjoy building ships.”
“These are new kinds of ships, Captain, and that’s something to get excited about,” Yavtar said. “I’ve got women in Bisitun stitching linen bags with a drawstring top for us. We’ll fill the bags with sand or dirt, and spread them flat on the bottom of the ship. The archers and crew can stand on them if they need to. When we’re ready to go into action, the ships’ crew will shift the cargo to one side or the other, to compensate for the archers’ weight. And if we have to carry cargo, we just dump the sand, and stuff bread or whatever into the sack.”
“Will that be enough to keep the ship from rolling over?” Eskkar could picture archers trying to work their bows while the ship bobbled and wavered beneath their feet.”
“You should have been a ship builder, Captain. No, it probably won’t be enough. But one of my men thought of this. What do you think?” Yavtar took a few steps and stopped before two wooden sawhorses. A thick log about three paces long rested there. It had two support members fastened to it at either end. The supports ended in a thick crosspiece.
“What is it?” Eskkar had never seen anything like it before.
“We’ve been calling it a brace, but that doesn’t explain what it does. When we’re ready to go into battle, these crosspieces will fit into notches cut in the sides of the ship. The log will ride in the water. If the boat starts to lean toward that side, the log will be forced deeper into the river, and it will resist the boat’s tendency to roll.”
Eskkar had noticed that the unfinished boat at the slip had notches cut into its sides. “How will that keep the boat from tipping?”
“Ever try to hold a log under water, Captain? The more you try to submerge it, the more it resists your efforts. And since it projects out two paces from the side of the ship, it will be almost impossible to roll the boat over. It should keep the ship stable enough for your archers to loose their shafts.”
“If you say so.” Eskkar still wasn’t sure how it would work, but if Yavtar thought it would be useful, he would trust the old sailor.
“Next time you visit here, you’ll get a real demonstration on the river. But I think we can build boats that can carry fighters and supplies at the same time. A craft like that would be able to defend itself from horsemen and archers on the shore, or another boat for that matter.”
“I’ll need the supplies, Yavtar. In our last fight in the south, we were out of food. Another day or two and the situation would have been bad. If we have ten times the number of men, we’ll never be able to carry enough food for them, not to mention grain for the horses and extra weapons. Besides, carts and wagons need more horses or oxen to pull them, and will slow our pace.”
“The good thing about Sumeria is that the land is full of rivers and streams, and you should be able to march near one. If you do, we’ll be able to bring you supplies.”
“Something else that would be useful . . . can you build a few boats built for speed and nothing else? We could use them for carrying messages back to Akkad.”
“Hmmm, I suppose we could do something. No one’s ever thought about a ship that didn’t need to carry cargo. Let me think about it. Now it’s time to have some bread and ale for breakfast.”
The next morning, Eskkar and his ten guards crossed to the west bank of the Tigris and rode north, to meet the Ur Nammu and learn how many horses the steppe warriors had brought with them. This side of the river held few farmers, and the land remained mostly empty, though Trella had predicted that in a few years, all of this would be under cultivation or support flocks of sheep and herds of cattle, with all the land under Akkad’s protection. By the third day, the land had turned hilly, and the number of valleys began to increase. None of them were large or had steep walls, but they sheltered good grassland that would be ideal for raising horses.
Mid-morning on the fourth day, Eskkar saw Ur Nammu riders standing on a crest line, outlined against the sky. He gathered his horsemen around him.
“I think we’ve reached the place,” Eskkar said. “Now remember what I’ve told you. Make sure you give no offense, no matter what happens. And the first man who puts his hand on a sword will wish he’d never been born.”
They rounded the base of the hill and trotted the last few hundred paces until they reached the entrance to the valley. He counted fifteen warriors waiting for them. Subutai wasn’t among them, but Eskkar relaxed when he saw Fashod. Eskkar halted his men a few paces from the waiting horsemen.
“A good day to ride,” Eskkar said, one of the traditional greetings used by the horse people.
“A good day to ride,” Fashod replied. “Welcome to our camp.”
Eskkar glanced around. He didn’t see any ropes blocking the valley entrance, and wondered what kept the animals from bolting out.
“How long have you been waiting for us?”
“Only two days. It took longer to bring the animals here than I thought. A few ropes broke, and twice a pesky mare slipped her noose.”
“How many horses did you bring?” Eskkar couldn’t restrain his curiosity.
“Thirty. Are these the men who will need to be taught how to ride?”
“No. Those should arrive tomorrow. There will be twenty to teach, as well as men with tools to build corrals and whatever else is needed. They’ll bring plenty of rope. These men,” Eskkar waved his hand to include those who had ridden with him, “need only to be taught how to fight from hor
seback.”
“Good. Then the rest of today we can hunt and talk, and begin work tomorrow. Would you like to see the horses?”
“Very much, Fashod.” Eskkar turned to the leader of his guard. “You stay here, and remember what I’ve told you.”
Fashod wheeled his horse around and started up the valley, and Eskkar galloped after him. The rest of the warriors followed, and Eskkar had the strange sensation of riding with a group of warriors, something he had not done since his boyhood days with the Alur Meriki.
The valley curved slightly, and as they rounded the bend he saw the horses, already in retreat away from the approaching men. Fashod slowed his pace as they neared the end of the valley. The nervous animals watched them approach, ears flicking back and forth, a stallion pawing the earth as it kept its gaze on them.
“Good horseflesh,” Eskkar said, his eyes examining the animals. You couldn’t be sure, of course, until you worked with them, but he didn’t see any dull coats or listless movements. Every head stretched upwards, and the wild look in their eyes showed plenty of spirit.
“A few good ones,” Fashod agreed. “Better than most horses that dirt-eaters ride.”
The horses were growing more restive, unsure of these strange men and animals. They’d been driven a long way, but they were still wild, and it would take a lot of hard work before they would let a man approach them, let alone slip a halter over their heads.
The horsemen rode back to the mouth of the valley and dismounted. Eskkar asked Fashod if he could meet his men, and Fashod obliged. Many of the warriors were young. In the Alur Meriki clan of Eskkar’s youth, they would still have been considered boys. But the Ur Nammu had been devastated by war and nearly exterminated, and now the clan needed its boys to turn into men as fast as possible.
The warriors were cool to Eskkar. They didn’t know much about him. To them, he was just another clan deserter or outcast, someone who had joined with the dirt-eaters. Even worse, some suspected he had come from the clan of their hated enemy, the Alur Meriki. Most of all, the Ur Nammu considered themselves superior to any villager or farmer, and their words were cautious or aloof.
