by Sam Barone
In the daylight, Eskkar stared at the dead men again, but neither he nor any of his soldiers recognized anyone. The village elders came next, and Eskkar and Sisuthros watched their faces carefully, looking for any indication of nervousness or recognition, but no one claimed to know the men. The first sign came from one of the innkeepers who identified the men as having stayed at his inn for the last two nights. The tavern owner had provided food and quarters for them, but he insisted he knew nothing else about either them or their business.
“That’s all I know,” the innkeeper repeated in a high-pitched voice, “except for that one’s name.” He gave a kick to one of the bodies, the man who’d come straight at Eskkar. “He called himself Ziusudra. The four of them sat in my inn yesterday afternoon, and he was the one doing all the talking and complaining about having to sleep on the floor. They had plenty of silver for wine and food, but they said nothing about themselves or their business.” He shook his head. “They weren’t even interested in any of my girls.”
Sisuthros questioned the man further as Eskkar watched, looking for any hint the man might be lying. But the innkeeper had nothing else for them. The line of villagers passing the bodies moved forward again, trickling by the bodies until an old man, his grandson at his side for support, stopped and announced that these men had quartered their horses in his corral. But he, too, could divulge nothing, except that they’d possessed four good mounts. After a few more questions, Sisuthros sent him on his way.
By the time the last of the villagers left the square, Eskkar knew only that the men had arrived three days ago, spent two nights at an inn, then rode out of Bisitun just before sundown. They’d slipped back into the village somehow, but no one admitted either seeing or helping them.
The stable owner’s words gave Eskkar an idea, but he kept silent until all of the villagers disappeared. “Bring their horses around, Sisuthros, and let’s see if any of the soldiers recognize them.”
Good horseflesh required plenty of care, and such animals would be noticed. Two of Eskkar’s men thought one of the horses, marked with a stripe of white across its shoulders, came from Akkad, but didn’t know the owner. He grunted at the news, and went back into the house. Sisuthros, Grond, Hamati, and Drakis went with him, and they took seats at the table in the common room.
“There must be trouble in Akkad,” Eskkar began quietly. “I’ll take half the men and horses, and start back. I should have returned there ten days ago.”
“If those men came up from Akkad,” Sisuthros pointed out, “and they’ve been here three days, they must have left eight or nine days ago. If you’d been in the city, they might have had better luck.”
“Those men were determined,” Grond added. “They didn’t run after the first rush failed, not even after the alarm was raised.”
“Well, they had bad luck,” Eskkar said. “But it doesn’t matter. I’ll take the men and start back to Akkad today. If I push the pace, I can be there in four or five days.” He turned to Hamati. “Can we get half the men ready by noon?”
“Half the men?” Sisuthros looked surprised. “Why only half ? If there’s fighting in Akkad, you’ll need all of us.”
“We just fought a major battle to capture this place and pacify the countryside,” Eskkar answered, a hint of anger in his voice. “I’m not going to walk away from this place and let some other bandit take it over again.” He shook his head. “Besides, the people here need to feel safe and to accept the authority of Akkad. If we abandon them at the first sign of trouble, they’ll never trust us again.”
Sisuthros opened his mouth, then closed it again. He looked around the table, but no one said anything. “Well, why don’t we leave just enough men here to keep order, say a dozen or so, and take the rest back with us?”
“You’re not going back, Sisuthros,” Eskkar said firmly. “You’re needed here. You’ve worked long and hard to get the villagers’ trust, and we’re not going to undo that. Besides, if there is an armed enemy in Akkad, we may need a secure base back here.”
“Captain,” Sisuthros began, his voice rising, “let me come back with you. Hamati can . . .”
A shout from the square interrupted him. On their feet in a moment, they pushed through the doorway just as one of the soldiers from the main gate reached them, wheeling his horse to stop its movements.
“Captain,” he called out, as soon as he caught his breath, “there’s a rider coming from the south, riding hard.”
“Bring him here as soon as he arrives,” Eskkar said. No sense in rushing down to the gate. They’d be surrounded by a crowd of excited villagers, and couldn’t talk privately there. Besides, the man would probably need food and water. The guard nodded, then rode off to meet the oncoming rider.
No one moved or left the square, and the time seemed to drag before three men arrived. Two soldiers from the gate, half-carrying a dirty and ragged man between them, reached the doorway before Eskkar recognized the one in the middle. He hadn’t seen Alexar in almost two months.
They brought him into the house, and Lani put a cup of watered wine into his hand. Alexar emptied it in one draught, then slumped back on the bench, resting his head and shoulders against the wall. His eyes drooped and he seemed to have trouble focusing. Lani took the cup, and refilled it for him. Alexar looked up at the five men standing around him, but didn’t say anything until he had drained a second cup.
Eskkar sat down next to him on the bench and put his hand on the man’s shoulder. “Can you talk, Alexar?”
“Yes, Captain,” he answered, his voice hoarse. “I haven’t stopped for anything since noon yesterday. I’ve ridden five horses into the ground in three days to get here.”
“Three days!” Sisuthros exclaimed. “From Akkad?”
“From just south of Akkad. I was with Bantor. We were ambushed just a few hours from the city.”
“The Alur Meriki attacked you so close to Akkad?” Eskkar’s fear welled up at the thought of the barbarians’ return. “By the gods . . .”
“It wasn’t the Alur Meriki, Captain,” Alexar interrupted. “Bantor said it was someone named Ariamus. He said you’d know the name. We were surprised by sixty or seventy riders, and they killed half of us before we drove them away.”
No one said anything for a moment, thinking about friends who might be dead. Grond broke the silence. “Who’s Ariamus?”
Eskkar ignored the question. “And Bantor?”
“Bantor survived. He sent me and another rider, with extra horses, to find you here. I left the other man behind me on the road when I needed his horse. I was to tell you that Bantor would be at Rebba’s farmhouse, waiting for you.”
“How many men are with Bantor?”
“Sixteen. We sent a few wounded men south to hide, but that’s all that survived the ambush. We lost most of our horses, and gave the rest to the wounded, so Bantor, Klexor . . . everyone’s on foot.”
“What’s going on in Akkad?” Eskkar asked.
Alexar shook his head. “Don’t know, Captain. We thought everything was fine until the ambush. Bantor thinks Ariamus must have already seized control of the city. They headed that way after we drove them off. There must be more men in Akkad helping him.”
Akkad! Trella waited there, with a baby due any day. Eskkar’s fist clenched and he tapped it slowly on his leg. He’d wasted time here, and left Trella in danger. Not only Trella, but others as well; his men had kin and friends in the city, too. No one said anything, but the unsaid thought remained.
Lani returned with a plate of bread and cheese that she handed to Alexar. The man held it in his hand, but didn’t eat anything.
“Bantor was sure it was Ariamus?” Eskkar’s voice was grim. When Alexar nodded, he went on. “And he thought he could reach Rebba’s place in safety?”
“Yes. Bantor said he would march north, then cross the river and double back to Rebba’s farm. He expected to find a boat somewhere along the Tigris to take him there.”
“Bantor has
done well,” Sisuthros said. “He’s kept his men together and brought them somewhere safe, at least for a time.”
“Yes, he has, unless they track him down,” Eskkar agreed. “Someone has tried to seize control of Akkad in our absence. That means there’s been fighting in the city as well. Trella must have . . . If anyone has injured Trella, they’ll pay for it.” He tightened his lips. “Well, we’ll just have to move faster when we march. Let’s start picking the men. We’ll leave at noon. We can still cover plenty of ground before it gets too dark.”
Sisuthros glanced up at the sun. “Captain, you don’t know what you’re facing down there. You may need every man. Let me go with you.”
“I need you here, Sisuthros. Besides, I’ll have Bantor and his men. That should be enough to take care of Ariamus. If not, then what I said before is even more important now. We may need Bisitun as a secure place behind us, if we need a refuge.”
“No one will want to stay behind,” Grond said. “Most of the men have wives and families in Akkad.”
That started another argument. No one wanted to remain in Bisitun, but Eskkar wouldn’t change his mind. “Now let’s get the horses and men ready to go.”
They rose from the table, then stopped when Lani spoke up, her voice firm. “Lord Eskkar, may I say something?”
“Yes, Lani, what is it?” She’d sat quietly, away from the table, and Eskkar had forgotten her presence, all his thoughts turning to Trella.
“Have you thought about the river?”
“The river?” Eskkar answered, a touch of annoyance in his voice.
“What about the river?”
Sisuthros picked up her idea right away. “Of course! She’s right. You can be there in less than three days if you take the boats. And we have plenty of vessels here, more than enough to hold forty men.”
A horseman first and last, the thought of using the Tigris to transport soldiers had never occurred to Eskkar. “Rebba’s farm has its own jetty,” he mused as he thought about the idea. “Can we put the men and arms on the boats?”
“Yes, but you won’t be able to bring the horses. Still, if you reach Akkad, you won’t need them. What you’ll need is a way to get into the city. Maybe Rebba and Bantor will have figured out something.”
“We don’t know how to sail the boats,” Eskkar said, still not sure about this new mode of travel. He had journeyed on a boat for a day once before, and hadn’t liked the experience. He knew the small craft, built mostly of reeds, capsized easily. Cargoes got lost, and men drowned often enough.
“For gold, the boat captains will take you anywhere,” Sisuthros said, his voice rising in excitement. “With extra boatmen along, the boats could go day and night. You’d travel much faster than by horseback.”
The thought of being on the river at night made Eskkar nervous. But if it would get him and his men there in two or three days, instead of five . . . He made up his mind. “You know the rivermen, Sisuthros. Get them here, and arrange for use of their boats.” He thought of something else.
“And make sure no boat has left since last night. I don’t want word of the attack, or our coming downriver, to get ahead of us.”
“You’ll need to pack the weapons, the bows, the arrows, and food,”
Sisuthros went on, expanding on the idea. “You’ll probably want men who can swim, just in case. And you’ll need a way to keep the bowstrings dry. Mitrac will know about that.”
Eskkar looked around the table. Grond nodded, but Hamati said, “I can’t swim.”
“I can,” said Alexar, “but even if I couldn’t, I’m going back to help Bantor, even if I have to walk the whole distance.”
Eskkar put both hands down on the table. “Then we’ll leave as soon as possible. Sisuthros, start with the boats, and get some men on the docks to guard them. Hamati, line up the men and find out who can swim. Grond, figure out what we’ll have to carry. Ask Mitrac what else the archers will need. Make sure we have everything. We won’t be stopping along the way.”
Chapter 20
Eskkar strode out of the house and into the market, his subcommanders trailing behind him. The rest of his men waited there, all regular duties forgotten. One glance at their leaders’ grim faces warned them that bad news was coming.
“Sisuthros. Are all the men here? Everyone?”
“Except for those posted at the gates.”
“Get them. I want everyone to hear the news.” Better they should hear it from him, rather than picking it up in bits and pieces from each other.
It took only moments. The men guarding the gates arrived at a run, bunching up along with the rest of the troop that had marched here from Akkad. Even the scribes and merchants waited to hear Eskkar’s words.
Eskkar stepped to the nearest merchant’s cart, and climbed onto it, letting his eyes sweep the gathering. “You know what happened here last night. This morning word came that Bantor has been ambushed, and half his men killed. It may be that some enemy has seized control of Akkad.”
His words shocked them into silence. He went on before the questions could start.
“I’m taking forty men with me to Akkad, all volunteers. I intend to kill whoever started this. The rest of you will stay here with Sisuthros, and . . .”
Shouts rose up, everyone speaking. They all wanted to go.
“Silence!” Eskkar put all the force he could into the word. “Listen to me, men. I know you all want to go. But you can’t. First of all, there aren’t enough boats. And I’m only taking men who can swim. The rest of you will have to stay here and fortify the village. There may be more attacks here, and the villagers will need your protection. Sisuthros and Hamati will be staying in Bisitun, and will need your help.”
“But what about my family?” The voice came from one of the younger archers. “My wife and . . .”
“The men I bring with me will protect all your families, I promise you that. You’ll have to trust them as you’ve always trusted each other. They won’t fail you. And I pledge that we will do everything we can. You’ve trusted me before. Don’t fail me now, when I need your loyalty and courage.”
Groans of disappointment filled the market as the men realized that some would have to stay behind. Eskkar let the rumblings go on for a few moments, then raised his hand.
“Whatever has happened in Akkad will be dealt with, I swear it,” Eskkar said. “Our city will not fall into an enemy’s hands.”
A shout of approval echoed around the square.
“The time for talk is over,” he said. “Now it’s time to avenge Bantor’s dead and rescue our kin. The faster we can get started, the sooner we’ll reach the city. Are you with me?”
A roar of assent followed his words, and for a moment Eskkar thought five hundred men had answered him, and the clamor continued until he held up both hands.
“Then let’s begin. Sisuthros, secure the boats and crews. Hamati, start gathering supplies. Mitrac, see to the weapons. Grond, find out who can swim and who knows the river. Drakis, get what we need from the villagers. Start moving!”
Soldiers and villagers worked like slaves for the rest of the morning.
Eskkar and his commanders selected the men who would accompany him, a process that took longer than he expected because a few soldiers tried to claim they could swim. Everyone wanted to join him and recapture Akkad.
To his surprise, many of the soldiers had lived on and around the river for most of their lives, and more than a few knew how to swim.
Obtaining the boats proved more difficult. Even for gold, two boat owners refused to help, and Sisuthros simply commandeered their boats.
In the end Sisuthros selected six boats. Each vessel would need a crew of two, and could carry at least half a dozen men, plus their equipment.
Crewmen utilized every rope and cord they could find in Bisitun, to lash down swords, knives, sandals, food, anything that could be lost. That way, even if the boat capsized, a not unexpected event, the food and weapons would be secure.
Mitrac ordered the bows coated with grease, then wrapped in rags and bound with cords. A short immersion in the water wouldn’t weaken them too much. The master archer packed all the bowstrings into two small clay jars, then sealed them with plenty of wax and bundled them with blankets and straw, much the way the traders shipped beer or wine. The jars, too, were fastened down throughout the craft, in the safest and most secure places. The bowstrings had to be kept dry at all cost. If they got wet, it would take most of a day to dry them out, and the bows would be useless during that time. A little water wouldn’t hurt the arrows, Mitrac decided.
Nevertheless, they stored them in jars as well, though they didn’t bother sealing these as tightly.
All this took time. The village square and the docks looked like a serpents’ pit with everyone scurrying around. Lani organized the women to cook as much food as possible. Every chicken they could lay their hands on ended up on a spit, and the aroma of roasting meat wafted throughout the dockside. The men would eat a big meal before they left and have more to take with them. The women fired up the morning ovens once again and began baking more bread. Lani supervised the collection of fruits, dates, and any other edible items that wouldn’t be ruined by water, gathered them together, and sent them to the boats.
Counting Eskkar, Grond, and Alexar, thirty-nine men assembled at the jetty, ready to board. Eskkar mustered all those selected. “Quiet now,” he ordered. “Yavtar will speak to you. Listen carefully to what he says.”
Yavtar owned two of the boats, and would command one of them.
Sisuthros had dealt with the ship owner turned trader several times during the last month, and suggested Yavtar be put in charge of the whole expedition. A big man, with thick arms from years of handling an oar, Yavtar pushed his way into the center of the Akkadians. He had dirty blond hair tied at the back of his neck, and wore nothing but a skirt and a belt holding a knife. When he spoke, his deep voice carried across the docks.
