against us during the night, trying to pick off our guards or just trying to shoot a few arrows into the camp. We need to kill or drive them off. Otherwise, we’ll be dodging arrows all night while the men are trying to sleep.”
“Yes, Lord Eskkar.” Shappa’s voice cracked at the words, and the rest of the group smiled.
Most of Shappa’s slingers were short and slim, and their weapon made almost no noise when it launched a stone. A bow’s sharp outline could often be seen against the night sky, and its twang heard. For this sort of action, the skirmishers had practiced using another way to cast a stone, whirling the missile around their heads. It wasn’t as accurate a way to launch a missile, but it could be done while hugging the ground, and at close range was almost as effective.
“Collect your men,” Eskkar went on, “and get them ready. I want them out in the darkness tonight.” He turned to Chinua. “I know the Ur Nammu can move silently in the darkness. Do you think a few of your men could reach the enemy camp?”
Mindful of the warriors’ pride, Eskkar had taken pains not to give them a direct order. Better to tell them what was needed, and let them offer to help.
Chinua had said little to anyone during the last few days, and the rest of the Akkadians had left him and his warriors alone.
“I can take three or four men out into the night,” he said, speaking slowly, to make sure everyone understood him. “We can hunt those the enemy will send against you.”
“That would be good. Perhaps you and your men might even get close enough to loose a few shafts at their herds. A stampede would slow them down.”
The warrior took his time before answering, and Eskkar had almost decided to drop the matter when Chinua spoke.
“I will speak to my warriors. After we have killed anyone approaching us, the way should be clear to reach their camp.”
Eskkar drew his knife and scratched out an outline of the camp in the dirt. “Shappa, you will take your men out here and here. This path,” he indicated a line that led directly toward the nearest Sumerians, “will be for the Ur Nammu. The rest of your warriors, Chinua, should guard that path, so that your men are not attacked when they depart and return.”
Shappa darted off to find his slingers, while Eskkar and the commanders made sure everyone knew what was happening. He didn’t want fifty archers launching arrows into the darkness while some of his men were out there.
The Akkadians were settling down for the night. Snoring loud enough to wake the spirits soon drowned out all other sounds. Meanwhile, Chinua and five men slipped away in the darkness, and soon afterward, Shappa took two groups of five into the night.
“You think the Sumerians will come?” Grond sat at Eskkar’s side, alert as always for any danger to his commander and friend.
“They have to do something,” Eskkar said. “Otherwise Shulgi is wasting his time having them follow us when he knows where we’re going.”
“They may wait until we reach Larsa. Then they can attack us from behind.”
“Perhaps. Still, I think they’ll try and worry us tonight. They’ll do something more direct tomorrow,” Eskkar said. “Remember, they’re just trying to slow us down so that Shulgi can get to us.”
Gatus laughed. “If that boy can march his army fifty miles in two days, I’ll give him my hat when I see him. By the time we reach Larsa, he’ll be at least three or four days behind us.”
If there were no delays in the march, and if the men could keep up the pace in spite of any Sumerian attacks, Eskkar expected to reach Larsa in less than two more days. But something always went wrong, he reminded himself. Battles were often little more than a collection of mistakes, with victory going to the side that made the least. Which was why he and Trella had worked so long preparing the men and equipment needed to fight this war.
“Let’s hope we can take the city before Shulgi arrives,” Eskkar said. “And that will depend on Trella’s people.”
“She knows what’s needed. As long as your luck holds out, barbarian, we’ll take the city.”
Eskkar grunted. The gods who controlled men’s fates could change a man’s fortune in a heartbeat. “Then you’d better offer some extra prayers, Gatus. I think we’re going to need more than luck for the next few days.”
47
Day 3
In the pre-dawn darkness, Eskkar rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. Not that he’d gotten much rest during the night. He woke at every odd noise, and walked the camp, talking to the sentries and worrying about the skirmishers and Ur Nammu. If the slingers were killed or captured, it would be a small loss. Nothing they knew could change the battle plan. But if too many of the Ur Nammu were lost, then the rest of Chinua’s fighters might just decide they’d had enough of Eskkar’s war, pull out, and head back home.
None of the men he’d sent out last night had returned yet, but he really wasn’t expecting them before dawn. The sentries Gatus posted had kept a sharp lookout for anyone trying to creep up to the Akkadians. During the night, odd noises out in the land between the rival camps kept every sentry on edge. Just before midnight, a few arrows had come flying into the camp, and one sleeping soldier in the middle of the camp had taken an arrow in the leg. But the arrows stopped almost as soon as they had started, and never restarted.
Nevertheless, Eskkar greeted the dawn at the camp perimeter, watching anxiously for his men. As the sun rose he saw them, crouched over and moving quickly toward the camp. As they drew closer, the returning skirmishers broke into a run, waving their hands and they raced back as swift as a young horse to the camp’s safety. Eskkar saw that two of them had blood on their tunics.
Shappa, out of breath but grinning like he’d just taken his first woman, jogged over to where Eskkar stood.
“Captain, we killed three of them, and drove the rest off. Did any get through?”
Eskkar had taken a quick count and saw that all of Shappa’s men had returned. “No, only a few arrows launched from a distance. One man was wounded.”
The slinger glanced around. “And the warriors? Did they make it back? We glimpsed them moving toward the enemy camp.”
One of the sentries gave a shout, and Eskkar looked out to see a small herd of horses galloping toward the camp, urged on by the war cries of the Ur Nammu warriors.
“I’ll be damned,” Gatus said, yawning as he walked over to join them. “I thought you told them to stampede the horses, not steal them.”
Eskkar shook his head. “You can’t send warriors near horses. It’s a sign of weakness not to try and steal a few. I should have known they would try something like this.”
“Well, no thanks to you, but now we’ve got another ten spare horses to use as pack animals. I can put the wounded man on one. Another fool sprained his ankle, so he can ride, too, instead of tiring out his friends.”
Eskkar had seen the man during the march, fighting the pain and supported on either side by his comrades, while others struggled under the extra weight of the man’s gear.
Chinua rode up, his body drawn up to its full height, head held high and proud of his men’s accomplishments. “Hail, Lord Eskkar. We killed six men, and captured ten horses.”
Eskkar bowed in recognition of the Ur Nammu’s success. He saw that one of the returning warriors had a bloody arm. “The horses are yours, of course, Chinua, but if my men may have the use of them… we will be in your debt for the animals.”
Chinua turned to his men, speaking rapidly in their own tongue, explaining the arrangement.
“Get the men moving, Gatus.” Eskkar raised his voice. “At least we’ve taught the Sumerians not to try and sneak up on us during the night. Now it’s time to march.”
They broke camp quickly. The men were used to eating as they walked, and it took little time to gather
