was no horseman, and Eskkar wanted skilled horsemen only. Meanwhile, Grond’s presence moving about the city would convince many that King Eskkar remained within the Compound.
The river journey to the north had another purpose. Yavtar’s men had finished two new boats, and he wanted Eskkar to inspect them. The boat captain had taken over a farm about ten miles north of Bisitun, and installed everything needed to build and test the new boats that Eskkar and his commanders required.
Two days after departing Akkad, the ships rowed past Bisitun during the late afternoon, and reached the small jetty of Yavtar’s farm just after dusk. Every member of the crew slumped against the oars, exhausted from driving the boats upriver. Eskkar had taken a hand with the oars, unwilling to sit idle while others worked. Besides, he wanted to get a feel for the boats that plied the river, and he enjoyed every chance to work his muscles. By now he’d overcome his initial worries about being on the water, and almost managed to enjoy the trip.
Once on shore, they ate a quick meal, then relaxed over a few cups of ale. The difficult journey upriver made sure every man slept well that night. In the morning, as soon as the sun had begun its journey across the heavens, Yavtar brought the three soldiers stationed at the dockyard and more than a dozen villagers to meet their king. Since this was Eskkar’s first visit, he took the time to ask each one his name, and say something encouraging. They might be mere carpenters or laborers, but these were the men who would build the boats Akkad needed. Most just stood there, wide-eyed, and afraid to say anything to the man who ruled their world.
Yavtar’s shipyard, as everyone called the place, didn’t look like much. Three small houses, a few sheds, and a corral that held the dozen or so horses that would take Eskkar and his guards on the next part of their journey.
The most impressive part of the shipyard was the dock itself.
Built with sturdy wood from the northern lands, it had enough slips to hold seven vessels. Three of the slips were occupied — two with Yavtar’s boats that had just carried them up the river, while the third slip held a craft that had arrived yesterday from the north carrying more lumber.
“This may not look like much now, Captain, but when we have forty or fifty men building ships, all those slips will be filled, I promise. Almost all the wood needed to construct our ships comes down the river. Just not enough big trees near Akkad.”
Most of the trees in the land between the rivers were willows or date palms, and even Eskkar knew that their wood wasn’t hard or dense enough for major projects. Good enough for cups, bowls, small tables and chairs, but not for much else. The gates that provided entry into Akkad had all been built from trees floated downriver from the northern forests.
“With the docks in place,” Yavtar continued, “we can load and unload all we need, at the same time we can keep two or three of our new boats floating there while we work on them. But now let me show what I wanted you to see.”
Not far from the docks Yavtar had established four construction cradles. Boats in various stages of assembly rested on each of them. He guided Eskkar to the first cradle, where a half-finished boat sat on its blocks.
“This is the third one we’ve started. The first two didn’t meet your needs, so we tore them apart and started over. But this one will, I think. At least, it will last long enough for us to learn all we need.”
“It doesn’t look any bigger than what’s plying the river now.”
“It is at least five paces longer than my longest riverboat. But what’s more important is that it’s almost two paces wider, and with a steeper pitch to its sides. That means it will ride lower in the water.”
“Why is that important?” Trella had finally overcome Eskkar’s reluctance to admit that he didn’t know everything, and he no longer hesitated to ask questions. Making assumptions, he’d learned, almost always led to mistakes.
“You wanted boats that could carry plenty of men, especially archers, as well as large cargoes to resupply your fighters. But if we’ve got a dozen archers shooting arrows at the shore or another ship, the boat will tip over at the slightest movement. So we need to have a way to keep it stable. Since we won’t be carrying any fragile cargoes, like wine or pottery, we can take advantage of heavier ballast. My builders have worked on an idea that we’ll need to test, but I think it will work.”
Eskkar couldn’t help laughing. “I’ve never seen you so excited. You seem to enjoy building ships.”
“These are new kinds of ships, Captain, and that’s something to get excited about,” Yavtar said. “I’ve got women in Bisitun stitching linen bags with a drawstring top for us. We’ll fill the bags with sand or dirt, and spread them flat on the bottom of the ship. The archers and crew can stand on them if they need to. When we’re ready to go into action, the ships’ crew will shift the cargo to one side or the other, to compensate for the archers’ weight. And if we have to carry cargo, we just dump the sand, and stuff bread or whatever into the sack.”
“Will that be enough to keep the ship from rolling over?” Eskkar could picture archers trying to work their bows while the ship bobbled and wavered beneath their feet.”
“You should have been a ship builder, Captain. No, it probably won’t be enough. But one of my men thought of this. What do you think?” Yavtar took a few steps and stopped before two wooden sawhorses. A thick log about three paces long rested there. It had two support members fastened to it at either end. The supports ended in a thick crosspiece.
“What is it?” Eskkar had never seen anything like it before.
“We’ve been calling it a brace, but that doesn’t explain what it does. When we’re ready to go into battle, these crosspieces will fit into notches cut in the sides of the ship. The log will ride in the water. If the boat starts to lean toward that side, the log will be forced deeper into the river, and it will resist the boat’s tendency to roll.”
Eskkar had noticed that the unfinished boat at the slip had notches cut into its sides. “How will that keep the boat from tipping?”
“Ever try to hold a log under water, Captain? The more you try to submerge it, the more it resists your efforts. And since it projects out two paces from the side of the ship, it will be almost impossible to roll the boat over. It should keep the ship stable enough for your archers to loose their shafts.”
“If you say so.” Eskkar still wasn’t sure how it would work, but if Yavtar thought it would be useful, he would trust the old sailor.
“Next time you visit here, you’ll get a real demonstration on the river. But I think we can build boats that can carry fighters and supplies at the same time. A craft like that would be able to defend itself from horsemen and archers on the shore, or another boat for that matter.”
“I’ll need the supplies, Yavtar. In our last fight in the south, we were out of food. Another day or two and the situation would have been bad. If we have ten times the number of men, we’ll never be able to carry enough food for them, not to mention grain for the horses and extra weapons. Besides, carts and wagons need more horses or oxen to pull them, and will slow our pace.”
“The good thing about Sumeria is that the land is full of rivers and streams, and you should be able to march near one. If you do, we’ll be able to bring you supplies.”
“Something else that would be useful… can you build a few boats built for speed and nothing else? We could use them for carrying messages back to Akkad.”
“Hmmm, I suppose we could do something. No one’s ever thought about a ship that didn’t need to carry cargo. Let me think about it. Now it’s time to have some bread and ale for breakfast.”
T he next morning, Eskkar and his ten guards crossed to the west bank of the Tigris and rode north, to meet the Ur Nammu and learn how many horses the steppe warriors had brought with them. This side of the river held few farmers, and the land remained mostly empty, though Trella had predicted that in a few years, all of this would be under cultivation or support flocks of sheep and herds of cattle, with all the land under Akkad’s protection. By the third day, the land had turned hilly, and the number of valleys began to increase. None of them were large or had steep walls, but they sheltered good grassland that would be ideal for raising horses.
Mid-morning on the fourth day, Eskkar saw Ur Nammu riders standing on a crest line, outlined against the sky. He gathered his horsemen around him.
“I think we’ve reached the place,” Eskkar said. “Now remember what I’ve told you. Make sure you give no offense, no matter what happens. And the first man who puts his hand on a sword will wish he’d never been born.”
They rounded the base of the hill and trotted the last few hundred paces until they reached the entrance to the valley. He counted fifteen warriors waiting for them. Subutai wasn’t among them, but Eskkar relaxed when he saw Fashod. Eskkar halted his men a few paces from the waiting horsemen.
“A good day to ride,” Eskkar said, one of the traditional greetings used by the horse people.
“A good day to ride,” Fashod replied. “Welcome to our camp.”
