Eskkar released his hold on Naran’s wife. “Bring them.” He entered the second chamber, a comfortable room where Naran no doubt took his pleasure. A large chest rested against the wall, the only concealment possible.
Grond went to it, placed his foot against one side, and shoved. The chest slid aside, revealing an opening cut into the wall.
“Get him out.”
Grond would have to bend over double to squeeze inside the dark hiding hole, and he knew better than to do that. Instead he took a spear from one of the grinning soldiers, and thrust it into the darkness.
“Stop! I’m coming out.”
On his hands and knees, King Naran emerged from the hidden chamber, his bronze helmet still on his head. If he had a sword, he’d left it behind.
A soldier arrived with a torch, shoved it inside, and inspected the hiding hole. “It’s empty, Lord Eskkar.”
“Don’t take any chances. Tear the wall down. There might be another hole concealed within this one. Check all the rooms, break open every wall. There will be more hiding places for his gold.”
Grond jerked the helmet from Naran’s head, turned him around, and began tying his hands behind his back.
“Guard him and his women well, Grond. I’ll be back for them later.”
T he moment Razrek heard the alarm about Akkadians entering the city, he knew it was time to go. Already the mass of soldiers outside the city had begun abandoning their position and started jogging toward the main gate. The threat against the south wall had been a ruse.
“Damn that demon Eskkar!” Razrek shook his head in frustration. “Summon our men to the river gate, and get them mounted. We’ve only moments before these bastards seal us in.”
He raced down the steps and ran as fast as he could toward Larsa’s river gate. Fires burned everywhere, and the heat from the flames would have given him pause at any other time. With swords in their hands, Razrek, Mattaki and his men rushed down the lane, forcing their way through the terrified mob of people pushing and shoving in every direction.
“Use your swords on the rabble,” Razrek shouted. “Clear the way to the corrals!”
Mattaki shouted orders to every horseman they passed, and soon hundreds of men milled about in the stable area. Razrek reached the house where he’d stabled his horse, and those of his commanders. Some were already there, others arriving breathless, pausing only long enough to fit a halter over their horse’s head.
Frantic soldiers tore loose the gate’s fastenings and flung it open. Men kicked their horses hard and burst through the opening, riding south along the river toward safety. Razrek saw a few arrows reach out from the darkness and strike down several of his men. The shafts didn’t descend in force, but he knew that would soon change as more archers reached the rear of the city.
Razrek finally fitted the halter to his nervous mount’s tossing head. He swung onto his stallion and hunched over his horse’s shoulder as he urged the big animal forward. With a thunder of hooves, Razrek and the rest of his men fled into the darkness, away from the walls and burning debris. Behind him came hundreds of the city’s inhabitants, desperate to escape before the Akkadians sealed them in. Shouting and pushing, they forced their way through the gate, running for their lives.
The Akkadian bowmen, slowed down by the tangle of broken huts that littered the ground, finally pushed their way toward the river gate, trying to seal off the most likely escape route. But only a few arrived before Razrek and hundreds of his men galloped out. Arrows flew at them, but the leader of the first group of breathless archers didn’t have enough men to contest their escape. He shot arrows at anything that moved, and emptied his quiver with the last shaft launched into the darkness.
More archers kept arriving, and now Razrek’s stragglers were cut down, arrows killing horses and riders, driving them back into the city. When men and horses littered the space just outside the gate, the exodus stopped. A few defenders tried to close the portal, but Eskkar’s spearmen arrived and took control. The last escape route out of Larsa had been closed.
A mile downriver Razrek halted in an open field. He and Mattaki bellowed commands, stopping the panicky gallop. Men and horses were breathing hard from the desperate dash through the night, and it took a long time under the moon’s feeble light before Razrek finally collected all his men and took a count.
“Damn those Akkadians!” he shouted at Mattaki’s white face. Only two out of every three of Razrek’s horsemen got away before the Akkadians sealed the city. He’d lost valuable horses, men and weapons, not to mention the city of Larsa. Shulgi would not be pleased.
49
Day 5
Eskkar woke to find the morning sun in his eyes. Something felt odd, until he realized he hadn’t slept on hard ground for the first time in almost ten days. He remembered dragging the remains of Naran’s bed close to the window, so that dawn’s first light would wake him. By then Eskkar felt as tired as if he’d fought a dozen fights.
Midnight had come and gone before he managed to snatch some sleep, throwing himself down on the king’s fancy blankets, exhausted by the long day’s march and the night attack on Larsa. Now the sun shone brightly, well above the horizon, and Eskkar realized he’d slept right through sunrise. Throughout the city, his men were up and about, while he slept in comfort on a thick spread of rich cloth that until last night had no doubt pampered the soft flesh of King Naran, his wives and concubines.
For a moment, Eskkar lay there thinking about last night’s events, ignoring the sounds of activity in the courtyard below. His mouth felt dry, and his head ached as if he’d been drinking all night, instead of capturing his first city. He was, he decided, getting too old for this kind of warfare.
Grond entered the room, carrying an ornate carved tray in both hands. “Everything’s under control, Captain.”
Leave it to Grond to make sure his commander knew the situation first.
“There’s fresh water, bread, hot chicken, and some dates. And a cup of Naran’s finest ale.” Grond set the tray down on a low table beside the bed. “We; d better drink as much of that as we can. Probably won’t see anything as good as this again.”
Eskkar pushed himself up. The smell of smoke still lingered in the air, and every breeze brought more of the acrid smell inside. Most of the fires from the attack would have burned themselves out by now, but the charred embers would linger for some time.
Despite the small amount of sleep, he felt rested. He grasped the cup of ale, drank half of it, then filled it again with water. This time he emptied the cup. “Demons, that’s good ale. You’re sure everything’s under control?”
“Oh, yes. The city’s still burning here and there, but our men and supplies are all inside the walls. The Sumerian horsemen have moved in closer, to watch us, but they’re not going to attack a walled city.”
“Useless fools. Shulgi should have known better.”
“I’m sure he knows by now.” Grond sat down on the bed, which sagged under their combined weight. “No sign of Razrek. That wolf must have gotten away before they closed the river gate.”
“How many men did we lose?”
“The commanders are still counting, but not many. Less than fifty, I’d guess. Another forty or fifty wounded. Half the men are still busy chasing women or looting.”
“The wounded will thank the gods for Yavtar and his boats.”
“A quick river trip back to Akkad, if they can get through. By the time they recover, the war will be over.”
“Or we’ll all be dead.” Nevertheless, Eskkar had a smile on his face. “And Naran’s gold?”
“Piled up in the next room, under guard. We found the third hiding place after you went to bed. Very small, but stuffed with fine jewels and precious stones. The homes of the leading merchants are still being searched, torn down, actually. It’s faster than trying to torture the information out of them.”
Last night, under the threat of torture, Naran had revealed two hiding places where he kept his hoard of gold and other valuables. But despite his protestations, the king of Larsa had given them up too easily, and Eskkar had
