2
An hour after dawn, the Akkadians marched out of Dilgarth. The villagers stood around sullenly, watching them go and waiting until the soldiers were well on their way before turning to their own tasks. Some of the men went down to the fi elds, others to the river.
The women soon followed their men out of the ruined gate, to kneel in the mud and repair the vital irrigation ditches that carried precious water from the river to the ever-thirsty crops. A thin plume of smoke rose up from the smith’s fire, and the carpenter’s hammer rang out as another day’s work in the rebuilding of the village began. Like the bandits, the soldiers had come and the soldiers had gone. With no other option, the villagers would attempt once again to get on with their lives.
The morning passed uneventfully. Noon arrived, and the villagers trudged back to their homes, to eat a meager meal and take a brief rest before returning to their labor. At midafternoon, despite the sun still high in the sky, they began moving back to the village, carrying their burdens or tools, walking slowly, heads downcast, their exhausted stares fixed on the dust of the earth.
When the last of them passed inside the gate, Eskkar stepped back from the edge of the square. From there he could just see the village entrance. He returned to the village elder’s house and pushed open the door.
For most of the day he had stood guard over the house and its eighteen occupants, mostly children or those too old or ill to work, making sure only his soldiers had gone forth to the fields. Eskkar didn’t want to take any chance the villagers would betray him, either willingly or with a knife at their throat. His men had kept track of the women they took with them into the fields. Only those Nisaba vouched for were allowed to depart, and then only in close contact with Eskkar’s men.
The rest of Dilgarth’s men, dressed in soldiers’ garb, had marched off with the rest of Eskkar’s force in the morning. The tallest “soldier” in the column wore Eskkar’s tunic and sat astride the captain’s horse. That soldier had ridden at the head of the column, between Grond and Sisuthros, as the Akkadians departed the village and continued their northward journey. If the bandits had left behind a spy, he would report that Eskkar personally led the column.
If the spy could count, he could also declare that all of the soldiers went north. At least Eskkar hoped his departure would be reported that way. Meanwhile, the soldiers would march north until they made camp at dusk. Then the twenty horsemen would turn about and begin retracing the journey back to the village. With luck they would arrive before midnight, though Eskkar expected everything to be long over by then.
Eskkar had stayed behind with ten men, the only number he could match against the able-bodied men of Dilgarth. But he selected some of the finest fighters and archers in his troop, all eager to prove themselves at Eskkar’s side, to show themselves worthy of the Hawk Clan.
In Eskkar’s rise to power, many of the old ways had fallen aside and many new customs created. After one of his earliest battles, Eskkar established a new kind of clan, a clan not of blood or place, but one of fighting brotherhood. Since then, every Hawk Clan member had sworn an oath of loyalty first to Eskkar and then to each other.
In the subsequent fighting against the barbarians, the Hawk Clan grew in number, though many died in the final assault. Only those who had proven themselves in battle could be nominated for entrance to the Hawk Clan. If accepted, their past, their homeland, their old clan did not matter.
Now men from the corners of the earth, many once homeless and friend-less, had a clan of their own, a new family, where all stood equal in honor.
The Hawk symbol grew into a mark of valor and prestige, and any soldier worthy of his sword hungered to wear the Hawk emblem. Though they numbered less than thirty, these elite soldiers formed the backbone of Eskkar’s subcommanders and bodyguards, the core of fighting men who supported Eskkar’s power.
Each Hawk Clan member wore the emblem proudly on his left shoulder, so that all could see the mark of bravery and distinction. Any of Eskkar’s soldiers would jump at the chance to demonstrate his courage and worth, and how better to do it than to fight at Eskkar’s side. Five of the ten soldiers who stayed with Eskkar belonged to the Hawk Clan. The others hoped to earn that honor in any upcoming battle.
Without any way to know if the village remained under the bandits’ scrutiny, Eskkar ordered the men back from the fields early. He didn’t want the bandits riding in while his few soldiers were scattered in the fields, or heading back to the village, to be killed or captured by ones and twos. Besides, his men would need some time to rest, to prepare their weapons, and take their stations. Eskkar hoped that the bandits, if they were watching, wouldn’t think the early return of any significance.
Hamati, the only other senior man in the group, walked to his captain’s side. Hamati had stopped only long enough to take a deep drink of water at the well and to wash the mud and muck from his hands and face.
“Marduk’s curses on these farmers, Captain, and their filthy way of life. I haven’t worked so hard in years.”
Legend told that Marduk, ruler of the heavens and father of the gods, had created the first farmer from river mud to till the soil. Farmers asked his blessing for their crops, even while they swore at him for making farming such a difficult labor.
“You’re soft from too much easy living, Hamati,” Eskkar said with a laugh. “Not even a full day in the fields and you’re complaining. Be grateful you don’t have to do it each day. Did the women give you any trouble?”
“No, but they kept looking over their shoulders toward the hills. Half of them wanted to run back to the village and the other half wanted to hide in the fields or along the river.”
A few nervous women wouldn’t arouse anyone’s suspicions. After what Dilgarth had been through, it would be natural enough for them to keep their eyes out for bandits and robbers. “Make sure your men are fed and ready, Hamati. If I were the bandits, I’d be here an hour or two before sunset. That will give them enough time before dark to gather what they need and be gone.”
Or they might not come at all. Eskkar worried they could already be far away, or be planning to come back in a few days or a week’s time. He had tried to put himself in their place and hoped they would do what he would have done. If he were wrong, if they had moved on.. three days out of Akkad, and he’d look like a fool in front of his men, outsmarted by a few lazy bandits. He resolutely put the thought away. The afternoon sun promised several more hours of daylight. If they didn’t come today, his horsemen would be back tonight, and he could ride out and search for them tomorrow.
If Hamati had any doubts of his own, he didn’t voice them. Instead, he moved off to see to the other soldiers.
Eskkar turned to find Nisaba standing before him. She, like Hamati, was covered with dirt from the fields. The women had rebuilt an irrigation ditch a few hundred paces from the village. Even in the best of times, ditches needed constant repair as they channeled the life-giving water to the growing crops. “What do you need, elder?”
“Nothing, noble. I have already offered prayers for your success in battle. Kill all of them, noble. Avenge my sons.”
Eskkar smiled at her. “Take the bravest women and keep them at work just beyond the village entrance, elder. The bandits might think it strange if they see no one outside the village. At the first sign of trouble, return to this house and bar the door.”
As soon as the meaningless words left his lips, he wanted to recall them. If he and his men failed, a wooden stick across a door wouldn’t stop any bandit.
She bowed and left him. He strode quickly through the tiny square, making sure the men stood ready and that everyone understood the plan.
That earned him a disapproving look from Hamati, who had just performed the same rite. Nevertheless Eskkar wanted to take no chances, and his concern showed each man how important their orders were.
In his successes against the Alur Meriki, Eskkar had learned no detail was too small to leave to chance, just as no order was too simple, but that some fool would forget it in the excitement of battle. Only when he felt sure everyone was ready and in place did he go to his own station near the main entrance. He’d assigned the best archers to Hamati. While Eskkar could shoot a fair shaft, he’d never managed to match the rapid-fire pace of his best trained men. Better to help hold the entryway, where his sword might prove useful.
Once a crude gate had stood there, more to keep tame animals in and wild creatures out at night, but the bandits wanted nothing to impede a quick entrance or exit from the village. So they knocked it down and used it as
