by Sam Barone
He sent a messenger on ahead, and found Eskkar and Gatus waiting for him when he rode up.
“Welcome, Hathor.” Eskkar smiled for the first time all day. “Your wild ride through Sumeria will be talked about for many years.”
“We had plenty of luck in the desert and at Uruk. We might have been here sooner, but we had to rest the horses after taking the city. And they’re weary again.”
“We’ve boatloads of grain waiting for them,” Gatus said. “But you’d better hurry. We’re moving north soon.”
Hathor gave the orders to Klexor and Muta, then swung down from his horse. “Where’s Shulgi?”
“Not far, now. Half a day’s march, maybe less. His scouts are already nearby, keeping an eye on us. They’ve been watching us all day.”
“And Isin?”
“Their horses are scattered, and the gates remain closed. Naxos wouldn’t even open them for Shulgi’s messengers. They had to shout their messages to those on the wall. I’m sure Shulgi won’t be pleased when he learns about it.”
Hathor laughed at the idea. “Any problems?”
“Just Yavtar. He and his ships should have been here this morning. Shulgi may have found a way to block the river.”
“What was he carrying?”
“Food, mostly. And the bronze stones for the slingers. We already have most of the weapons.”
“And you’ve picked the battleground?”
“Yes. It’s not ideal, but it will have to do. There’s not enough food for another day’s march. Shulgi’s probably as short of supplies as we are. He hasn’t been able to move much of what he stored at Kanesh. Yavtar’s boats have been raiding his ships. So our battle will be tomorrow, and only the victor will get a decent meal.”
“Then I can get a good night’s rest.” Hathor stretched. “My ass is sore from twelve days of hard riding.”
Eskkar smiled in sympathy. “I’ve ridden hard many a time in my life, but never for so long.”
“Well, next time you can lead the cavalry, and I’ll stroll along with the infantry.”
“Agreed. But now listen to Gatus. We need to get moving once again.”
The Akkadian army, foot soldiers and horsemen broke camp before the sun touched the horizon. They didn’t have far to go, a mere three miles, but Eskkar wanted to secure the battle site before Shulgi’s forces reached it. The Sumerians had shifted a bit north as they drew near Isin, to make sure they stood between Eskkar and any escape route back to the north and Akkad. They needn’t have bothered. Eskkar had no intention of trying to escape, even if he could somehow manage it. Without food and surrounded by enemies, he had to fight.
Gatus left fifty men behind, including three on horseback to keep watch on Isin, and the rest ready with shovels to open the riverbank at the first sign of treachery from Naxos.
The army moved north, traveling at a steady pace even as dusk settled over the land. They reached the location Eskkar had scouted yesterday just as the last of the day’s light faded from the sky. As the Akkadians settled in to make camp for the night, they saw the first of Shulgi’s fires glowing in the north. The Sumerians had finally caught up with Eskkar’s forces, and now they camped less than three miles away. The time for battle had nearly arrived. One way or the other, tomorrow would decide which city ruled in the land between the rivers.
55
Day 11
Shulgi and Razrek sat side by side on the ground, hunched over the map spread before them. Vanar and the other commanders craned over their shoulders to get a better view. A fire crackled and hissed nearby, shedding its flickering light over the Sumerian leaders.
“He’ll attack tonight, probably just before dawn.” Shulgi tapped the map with his dagger. “That’s why he’s marched north, to get closer to our camp. Otherwise he would have stayed where he was, and tried to fortify his position.”
“Why would he attack at night? He can’t use his cavalry very well, and his archers will be shooting blindly.”
“The barbarian always seems to do what we least expect,” Shulgi said. “Move the men into battle order and have them sleep in shifts in their positions.”
“Our men and horses are tired and hungry. They’ll be even more weary if they’re up half the night.”
“And if Eskkar attacks while we’re sleeping, how weary will they be then? The men can sleep tomorrow, after we’ve driven the last of the Akkadians into the river and watched them drown.”
Razrek hesitated, then shrugged in resignation. Shulgi had been right about Eskkar’s movements, and even about Uruk, and Razrek didn’t have any good reason to challenge the king’s orders. Especially since word of Uruk’s fall had arrived, delivered by a single exhausted rider who had trailed the Akkadian force halfway across Sumeria. They had only heard about the sacking of that city as they ceased the day’s march. To Razrek’s surprise, Shulgi didn’t seemed too concerned about Uruk.
“If he doesn’t come at night, he’ll dig in in the morning. We’ll have to attack him.”
“The ground here is as favorable to us as to him,” Shulgi said. “The river will protect our right flank, and he doesn’t have enough men to flank us. That is, assuming your precious cavalry can finally start earning their pay.”
Razrek ignored the insult. They’d been over that argument at least once a day for the last ten days. “We’ll brush aside his horsemen, assuming you can keep his archers occupied.”
“As soon as you do, send a few hundred to Isin. If the Akkadians don’t flood the city, your men can do it. I’ll teach Naxos to keep a thousand good men out of the battle.”
Despite both Naxos and Eskkar’s efforts, word of Isin’s plight had reached the Sumerians. Shulgi had flown into a rage when he heard of Naxos’s refusal to join the fight, and for once Razrek couldn’t blame him. Somehow the barbarian had managed to pin Naxos, of all people, inside his own walls without shooting a single arrow.
“Eskkar will have some tricks for us tomorrow.”
“Yes, I’m sure he will,” Shulgi agreed. “We’re not going to fall for any of them. When the battle starts, we’ll march straight at his center. All you have to do is keep his horsemen off our flank, and I’ll finish Eskkar’s spearmen. Once they’re gone, the rest of his men will turn and run.”
Shulgi turned to the rest of his commanders. “You know your positions. Tomorrow there will only be one command: to close with the enemy as soon as I give the order. We’ve cut off Eskkar’s supply ships, and now he’s as short of food as we are. Once we’re finished with him, Isin will provide all the food we need, or I’ll have Naxos’s head on a spear right next to Eskkar’s. Otherwise, I’ll flood the city myself. A few hours fighting tomorrow and the spoils of Akkad will be ours. Just keep the men alert tonight.”
Shulgi glanced at his commanders. Heads nodded in agreement. Even Razrek’s. The Akkadian was trapped against the river with no way to cross, outnumbered, and short of food and supplies. Tomorrow would see the end of Akkad’s barbarian leader.
As the darkness fell, some soldiers built a fire near Eskkar’s command post, despite the mild summer evening. No one had ordered them to do it, but they did it anyway, to help their leader meet with his men. One by one, his commanders joined him, to report on their men, review their orders for tomorrow, and take into account any new instructions. They formed a tight circle around him, some kneeling so that as many could see the map as possible.
While Eskkar waited for the last of his subordinates to arrive, he studied the map on the ground before him, though its frayed edges and grimy appearance showed how often Eskkar and his commanders had consulted it during the last eleven days. This map depicted the land around Isin, and had first been detailed by Trella’s map makers back in Akkad almost a year ago. It had proved its use already by determining where to dig the canal to threaten Isin.
But Trella’s map makers had done more than just identify the landscape. They had walked this land, studying possible battle sites, just as they had done in and ar
ound Larsa, and even Sumer itself. Finding likely places for two armies to clash wasn’t as difficult as it first appeared. Troops from both sides needed water and supplies, which kept everyone close to the rivers and streams. Commanders needed to communicate with their respective cities as well as their own garrisons, which suggested other likely trails for troops to move and establish camp. All in all, nearly a dozen such sites had been studied around the city of Isin, and Eskkar’s clerks carried maps of all of them.
Sitting cross-legged on the ground, he studied the map in silence, though by now he knew every line and symbol. Gatus arrived and took his place beside his captain, along with Drakis; they would lead the spearmen in tomorrow’s attack, and face the brunt of Shulgi’s forces. Hathor sat on Eskkar’s right, with Klexor and Muta; they commanded the cavalry. Alexar and Mitrac would lead the bowmen in support of Gatus, and Shappa and Nivar commanded the slingers, who would follow Hathor. Yavtar and Daro would command the riverboats and their archers. The smallest force was that of the Ur Nammu warriors, led by Fashod and Chinua. Grond completed the circle, facing his friend and commander across the fire. Of all those present, only he had no need to see the map. Grond’s place would be wherever Eskkar was.
When they had all taken their places, Eskkar turned the map over. One of his clerks could sketch and draw. Eskkar and Gatus had spoken to the artist the day before yesterday, when they traversed what appeared to be the most likely battleground. The man had created a new drawing that showed in detail where Eskkar wanted to place his men, and where he expected the Sumerians to place theirs. Nothing fancy, just blocks with a single symbol within, to identify the particular force and its position.
Every head craned forward to get a closer look, each commander intent on studying the battleground. While they examined the map, Eskkar lifted his eyes and studied the men surrounding the camp fire. Hundreds of soldiers had jammed themselves in as close as they dared, to hear the words of their leaders. They made no sound, didn’t even talk among themselves, and Eskkar wondered if some of them weren’t holding their breath. No doubt they expected to be ordered away, but Eskkar didn’t mind. The more his men knew about what they would face, the easier it would be in the morning. With that in mind, he raised his voice, so that as many as could would hear his words.
“The last report from Trella’s agents estimates that Shulgi had about twenty-two thousand men with him when he left Larsa. Almost a thousand of those are now behind us, in Isin. I expect King Naxos will keep them there, but our men are still watching Isin and guarding the ditch in case those in the city try anything tonight.”
He looked around the circle of commanders. “So in the morning we’ll face at least twenty one thousand men, perhaps more. We’ll be outnumbered more than four to one.” He paused to let the numbers sink in. Better they heard about the enemy’s strength tonight than when they first saw the enemy host in the daylight.
“But many of the men Shulgi commands are unproven. They’ve been drawn from all over Sumeria, and they fight only for the prospect of loot, or because they’ve been ordered to war by their leaders. Almost ten thousand are nothing more than men carrying swords. Most have never fought a battle. Just as important, most of them have little loyalty to Shulgi. Their cavalry is well trained, and they’ve had plenty of experience fighting the desert tribes. Altogether, Shulgi still has at least three thousand horsemen, but almost half that number is drawn from the rabble of Tanukh desert-dwellers. That scum of the desert fight like jackals, attacking only when they have the advantage. Fashod has fought them in the past, even hunted them for sport. Hathor and his men have swept through two of their villages. He saw Tanukh men abandon their wives and children to flee with their horses. Tell them what you saw.”
Eyes turned toward Hathor. “It’s true. They left their women, old men, and boys behind, to die defending their honor and tents. Very few stood and fought, and most of those only because we caught them before they could escape. Only a coward would leave his family to face death.”
“The rest of Shulgi’s army is little better,” Eskkar went on. Our men have trained for this fight, some for as long as two years. We’ve out-marched the Sumerians in the last eleven days. We’ve destroyed Larsa, burned Uruk, and forced Isin to abandon its support for Shulgi’s cause. Even this place of battle is known to us, and the ground will favor our fighters. Shulgi will have only one tactic, to close with us as quickly as possible, and try to overwhelm us with their numbers. We have prepared even for that.”
Again Eskkar looked out at the men standing behind the commanders’ circle. He saw no fear, no doubts. “Tomorrow we will do what the Sumerians least expect. They expect us to dig in and wait for their assault. Instead we will attack them. Our cavalry will strike their rear like a hammer, while our infantry will attack their front lines, an anvil of unbreakable strength. The Sumerians will be caught between the anvil and the hammer, and they will be crushed.”
He paused to look around the circle once again.
“Now it is time for the commanders to speak. If any of you have questions or doubts, speak now.” Eskkar had learned long ago to let the most junior commander speak first, so as not to be intimidated by the more experienced leaders, but this time he turned to Gatus, as the senior commander.
“We could still attack at night,” Gatus said, “catch them off guard. My spearmen have practiced for a night battle.”
Earlier, Eskkar had asked Gatus to speak of a night attack. Eskkar wanted the men to hear and understand all the reasons for the decision not to try and fight at night.
“No.” Eskkar put all the firmness into the single word that he could. “The Sumerians wait even now for us to attack. They are prepared for it, and if we attack now they will fight, because there is no place to run in the darkness. As the night passes, they will grow even more certain that we will come, if not during the night than at first light. Their soldiers will get little sleep tonight, and tomorrow their legs will be weak. In the morning, the Sumerians will be weary. They will see us advancing on their position. Doubt and fear will fill their throats, weaken their knees. What courage they have will fade away. They will look for any excuse to turn and run.”
“And that excuse, what will it be?”
Gatus’s rehearsed words sounded a bit awkward, but Eskkar doubted any of the soldiers listening nearby with open mouths would notice.
“We are going to strike at the head of the Sumerians. Shulgi is all that holds them together, when they see him fall, or turn to flee, the battle will be over. He has only fought against the desert horsemen, never fought a real battle. So I will take the fight to him. Let us see if he is willing to face me.”
One by one, he spoke to each commander, listened to what they had to say, answered any questions. None, he saw with satisfaction, needed any reassurance. All of them wanted to close with the enemy as much as he did.
When everyone had had their say, Eskkar stood. “Make no mistake. Shulgi is a strong leader and his men will fight hard. But he lacks experience, and we will take advantage of that. We’ve trained for this battle for months. Tomorrow is the day we will win it. Commanders, repeat my words to those who could not be close enough to hear our voices. I want every man to know what he’ll face, and what to do. Then tell them to get as much rest as they can.”
He picked up the map and tossed it to his clerk, who had stood nearby, open-mouthed, during Eskkar’s speech. The map wouldn’t be needed any more. “All of you will lead your men bravely, I know. Our soldiers have already proven themselves. They, like you, will know what to do. And tell them that I am proud to lead them into battle. And after we win, the spoils of Sumer will be ours. Good hunting to all of us tomorrow.”
The fire had nearly burned out, and this time no one thought to replenish it. Eskkar strode into the darkness, but not to try and rest. Instead, he walked through the camp, talking to the men, repeating parts of what he’d said earlier. Again and again he spoke, each time with a hundred or more men cluste
red about him, more than a few reaching out to touch his arm. Many were in awe of him, of his reputation. He used that trust now. He had to rely on them tomorrow, and they needed to know that.
As Trella had told him time after time, win the loyalty of your men and they will follow you wherever you lead. Long ago she had foretold him that that someday a thousand men or more would follow him into battle, no matter what the odds. At the time, he thought she spoke without thinking, or more likely, without understanding how hard it would be to command so many men. But as he’d often found with Trella, she always chose her words with care, and meant what she said. Tomorrow her prophecy would come true. Eskkar intended to lead Akkad’s soldiers against a mighty host, and he knew how much risk they all faced.
At last Grond, who had stayed at Eskkar’s side as he moved throughout the camp, put his arm around his friend’s shoulder. “It’s past midnight, Captain. You’ve spoken to enough of our men. They’ll spread your words. Time to get some rest, or you’ll be too tired to stand in the morning, let alone fight.”
They returned to the camp fire, one of the few that still burned this late into the night. Eskkar threw himself down on his blanket. The stars shone overhead, and he remembered another night watching the stars cross the heavens, and knowing a fight to the death waited in the morning. Balthazar, an old shepherd, had taught him about the mysteries of the starry heavens that night. Eskkar wondered if the old man had found the peaceful life that he sought, surrounded by his kin. Balthazar might even still be alive. When this battle was over, if Eskkar survived, he decided he would send word to the shepherd, perhaps invite him to come visit Akkad. He was, after all, a companion in arms, one of the few who had fought at Eskkar’s side in the old days.
