the front and the slower following behind, all intent on closing with the enemy as fast as possible.
Arrows flew toward Eskkar and those leading the charge, a few striking the horsemen, but the Sumerian archers were far to the left of the line, many having been shifted to the river to deal with the Akkadian boats, and not all that remained had a clear shot. And at a full gallop, the moments Eskkar and his men were under fire from the enemy archers would be brief indeed.
Eskkar shifted one lance to his left hand and raised the other in his right hand. The horses thundered across the shaking ground, and already he could see his foes shouting at each other in confusion. No one had expected the Akkadians to attack the Sumerian infantry at their flank, especially not with so many of Razrek’s horsemen ready to oppose such an attempt. Eskkar saw one or two already taking a few steps backward, unsure of what to do.
At about one hundred and fifty paces from the enemy, Eskkar heard Fashod signal the Ur Nammu warriors to loose their arrows. Some had already launched their shafts, counting on the speed of their horses to propel the arrow the extra distance. All the missiles flew straight at the Sumerians directly in their path, those still trying to fill the gap. That first flight didn’t have much effect, but in moments, every one of Eskkar’s mounted bowmen were loosing shafts as fast as they could, guiding their horses with their knees and still managing to give their war cries. With so many men before them, they had no need to aim, just launch as quickly as possible.
Eskkar glimpsed horsemen urging their horses forward to fill in the gap, but now arrows were striking at them. Horses were hit, disrupting the movement. Wounded animals tried to flee, frightened at the mass of horses approaching them. Others reared up in simple fright. Eskkar took all this in as he galloped. From behind, more arrows from his own riders flew just over his head, striking at the Sumerian horsemen moving to fill the gap. Caught in the battle rage, Eskkar gave voice to the battle cry of his fathers, as he hurled himself toward Shulgi’s forces.
Nevertheless, the enemy horsemen kept moving forward from the rear, and the empty gap began to disappear. However, the number of defenders moving into position remained small for the moment, and by now nothing could stop the Akkadians hurtling down on them.
The distance between the forces vanished. Eskkar saw a Sumerian horse fighter, struggling to control his horse, and aiming an arrow at him. Eskkar flung the lance with all his strength, arching it up slightly, its flight intensified by the speed of his horse. The shaft struck the man in the chest, the force of the blow knocking him backward off the horse.
Eskkar had just enough time to snatch the second lance from his left hand, and hurl it toward the mass of riders moving toward him. Then he jerked the sword from his scabbard as his horse burst in the midst of the Tanukh riders, the Ur Nammu warriors screaming like demons beside and behind him.
A touch of the halter guided the stallion between two Sumerians. One man went down from Eskkar’s sword, swinging down with all his strength, while the second was knocked from his horse by the stallion’s shoulder. More arrows, fired at a dead run by both the Ur Nammu and the Akkadians still charging behind their leaders, hissed through the air, striking down men and horses alike, everything in their path. Javelins, too, flung by most of the cavalry, struck with devastating effect. Behind Eskkar, Hathor and his men were screaming their war cries, the sound drowning out any Sumerian battle cries.
Eskkar and Grond, at the head of the Ur Nammu, broke through the thin first rank and smashed their way deep into the Tanukhs moving to fill the gap. The desert horsemen, still shifting into position, recognized the barbarian war cries, though they had no idea of how few such men Eskkar had with him. A handful took one look at Eskkar’s forces and decided they wanted no part in fighting steppe warriors. They turned their horses away, unwilling to face their hereditary foes.
Nevertheless, the sheer mass of Tanukhs slowed Eskkar’s charge, and soon his stallion labored to push its way forward, urged on by the pressure of Eskkar’s knees. The great sword rose and fell, striking at anything that came within reach, man or beast.
Just as the charge’s momentum seemed about to stall, Ur Nammu shafts, fired with rapidity, cleared the path ahead. With one last blow of his sword, Eskkar burst through the last of the Tanukhs, Grond at his side. A savage kick to his horse’s ribs drove the animal forward.
A hundred paces away Shulgi’s guard had formed up around their leader. Some had bows and they launched arrows at the charging Akkadians toward Shulgi’s guard. A shaft rattled against Eskkar’s bronze breastplate before glancing off, and he felt the force of the blow. Another shaft hissed by his face, and he felt something else glance against the bronze helmet.
Then arrows didn’t matter, as the two forces collided. Eskkar’s sword came down with all his strength, knocking aside an enemy blade raised in defense. With Grond and the Ur Nammu and two hundred other horse fighters, Eskkar had thrust himself deep into the rear ranks of the Sumerians.
Shulgi’s fighters, driven back at first, finally managed to slow the attack by sheer numbers. Now swords rose and fell, as Eskkar kept pushing his horse forward, determined to close with Shulgi. The Sumerian king’s men — no less determined — tried to halt the deadly advance toward their leader. The jam of horseflesh and men blocked the way, and Eskkar found himself fifty paces from Shulgi’s red standards, still waving gaily in the gentle breeze.
Surrounded on all sides by desperate men fighting to the death, all Eskkar could do was strike as hard and fast as he could. He struck a horse in the forehead, and it reared up, screaming in pain. A following thrust caught its rider in the belly. Another rider pushed forward to take his place, and Eskkar’s stallion butted shoulders with the new attacker.
On all sides, horses neighed and screamed, either from fright or wounds, as they pushed against each other at the brutal urging of their riders. Men, too, screamed in pain or in rage, as swords — swung with all the force each man could muster — clashed against the bronze blades raised against them. Grond’s horse went down, it’s legs in a tangle, and Eskkar saw his bodyguard crash to the ground.
In spite of his fury, Eskkar’s advance slowed and stopped. He found himself beset on all sides with thrusting blades and spears. His horse reared up, screaming in pain and sending Eskkar sliding down the animal’s rump, unable to maintain his seat. He landed on a still-moving body, as the horse turned into a kicking and biting beast, striking at anyone within reach.
A twitching Tanukh body beneath him had taken a lance in the throat. Eskkar seized it with his left hand and jerked it free. He’d managed to hang onto his sword. The battle rage still swept over him. A war cry burst from his lungs, and he charged forward into the mass of men and horses before him.
Two strikes of the sword cleared his advance and he thrust the lance into a horse’s open mouth before the rider could get close enough to bring his blade to bear. Ducking under another wild swing, he extended his body and drove the point of the sword through a man’s stomach. Using lance and blade, he cut his way forward.
I gnoring Eskkar’s battle, Hathor and three hundred men closed the gap, shifted slightly to their left, and smashed into the flank of the Sumerian spearmen. Disrupting the enemy infantry remained his primary task. Arrows and javelins flew through the air, striking into the midst of the spearmen, still trying to advance against the Akkadians.
Sumerian commanders screamed orders, and tried to turn the line to face Hathor’s horsemen. A few managed to do so, and raised their shields and spears against this new foe. But the Sumerians had only a small number of men opposing Hathor’s three hundred, and he had the advantage of numbers at the point of contact.
Akkadian javelins hurtled through the air. At such close range, many found their target. Even those that missed striking flesh penetrated the Sumerian shields, entangled themselves, and hindered the spearmen’s efforts to form a line.
Hathor grunted in satisfaction at what he saw. Spearmen — to withstand infantry — need to be in a formed line and moving forward. Now horses and men clashed over the ragged remnants of the Sumerian left flank, stepping over the dead and dying. The enemy continued to try and shift their position to face this sudden threat, urged on by the desperate shouts of their commanders. Despite those efforts, the left flank of Sumer’s spearmen crumbled under Hathor’s ferocious onslaught, then started to collapse as the men were driven backward, pushing and shoving against others still in ranks, disrupting them further and preventing them from facing the Akkadians.
Nevertheless, the dense mass of infantry slowed Hathor’s advance. Horses went down, stabbed by enemy spears. Wounded animals, mad with pain, lashed out at friend and foe alike. Horsemen, flung to the ground, found themselves scrambling away from spears thrust at them. The Akkadians drew their swords and kept fighting. They had no other choice. The Sumerians had to be broken, or all was lost. Any retreat would give the Sumerians time to
