begin. The horses must get used to seeing other animals coming toward them. They must also think that there will always be a gap for them to pass through. Otherwise they will not charge in combat. Or if they do, they may pull up at the last moment, turn aside, or dig in their heels and toss their rider. Now we begin.”
He moved to the end of the line. “ WALK!” At the same time, he raised his sword in the air, held it for a moment, then lowered it. Fashod repeated the same signal, and his men advanced as well.
The ten men started moving. Immediately the line grew ragged. Some animals were impatient, others too slow. The riders all had different ideas about what a walk meant.
“Damn you, look at Fashod’s line.”
The men lifted their eyes to stare at the approaching line of warriors, all moving evenly across the grass toward them.
“Straighten out the line!” Eskkar knew the warriors would be grinning at the clumsy dirt-eaters.
By now the two lines were drawing close to each other, and the nervous horses added to the confusion. They passed between Fashod’s men in twos and threes, a sorry example of horsemanship.
“Keep the line even!” Eskkar made them continue pacing forward until they reached Fashod’s starting point. “Wheel left! Reform the line.”
Two riders turned to the right, which brought guffaws or curses from the mount they bumped into. Eskkar swore again. The idea of right and left wasn’t clear to some of them. That, too, would have to be explained.
Nevertheless, the line eventually reformed. Of course, Fashod’s line had turned smoothly, without a lost step and they now waited patiently.
“Walk!” the ten horsemen plus Eskkar moved forward, the line ragged within a few steps. “Keep the line even, damn you!” His voice would be hoarse by the end of the day if he kept shouting at this rate.
They did a little better the second time. When they’d finished the tenth pass, the line remained nearly straight. Still, Eskkar wasn’t sure if it wasn’t the horses who grasped the concept quicker than their riders.
“Now we’ll try the same movement at a trot.”
One rider started forward.
“Damn you, wait for the command!” Eskkar bellowed. At this rate his voice wouldn’t last the morning, let alone the day.
The sheepish rider had to ride around his grinning companions to regain his place.
“Trot!”
This went a little better. A lot of the work depended on the horse, but gradually each animal got used to keeping pace with the horse beside it. After ten times, Eskkar gave the order for a canter. Once again, the horse and rider had to learn what that command meant, what gait to set, the faster horses being held back, the slower ones urged to move a bit faster.
Again and again Eskkar shouted to keep the line even. As mid-morning approached, both horse and rider were getting weary. The drill seemed senseless, and only the fact that the warriors executed each pass with precision proved that they, too, had practiced such things.
The men were getting tired, which was what Eskkar wanted. Weary horses and men would be less likely to do something foolish or injure themselves. “Now we try a gallop. The sooner you get it right, the quicker you can rest.”
This time the line held together better than expected, either by luck or skill, and the two lines rushed toward each other. Eskkar repeated the drill three more times, then waved Fashod’s men in.
“Enough for now. Take care of your horses, wash them down, and return here. Move!”
Fashod discharged his men as well, but he rode over to join Eskkar. Both men dismounted and sat down on the grass.
“Your men did better than I expected.”
“These men are experienced fighters, good archers, and decent riders, but they’ve never learned how to use a horse in battle. The next group will be far worse.”
Fashod grunted at hearing that.
In ones and twos, Eskkar’s men returned. He waited until he had all ten sitting on the ground before him. “Any questions?”
The men glanced at each other, but one man finally spoke. “Why are we doing this? We’ll never walk our horses toward the enemy.”
Eskkar kept the frown from his face. Better to let the men ask questions, even stupid ones. If he started cursing at them, they’d never learn to speak out.
“Do you know why the steppe warriors are so ferocious?” No one answered. “It’s because they’re better horsemen. They’ve learned that a well-trained horse is worth two or three men in a battle. And this — what we’ve done this morning — is how they train their horses. Their animals will charge toward an approaching group of horses, because they know there will be a gap for them to pass through. And they trust their rider to find that gap. In battle, they strike together, crashing into their enemy. When villagers fight on horseback, they ride up to an enemy, stop the horse, and start hacking at each other with their swords. The warriors let the horse do the fighting. They never stop. They know a wound is just as good as a kill, so they strike at the horse, the rider, anywhere they can, and they keep moving forward. They push through their enemy until they break through to his rear. Then they wheel around and attack again. They never worry about their back, because they’re always moving forward.
Eskkar glanced at Fashod. “Tell them.”
“What Eskkar speaks is true. We train the horse to use its shoulder to crash into an opposing horse, to step on anything in its path, and to always continue forward. When we attack dirt… villagers, they break quickly, because they suddenly find warriors behind as well as in front. The moment a horse fighter starts worrying what is happening behind him, what danger may be approaching, he’s easy to kill. Either that, or he turns and runs.”
Horses have a natural tendency to jump over obstacles in their path. They had to be trained to step on anything on the ground, man or beast.
“A good horse takes months to train,” Eskkar said. “A warrior guards a prime animal as much as his wife, maybe even more, because he knows a good horse can save his life in battle. It’s not likely we can ever do as well as Fashod and his men, but the Sumerian horsemen are not warriors. Mitrac proved that a few months ago. With a handful of men, he struck a heavy blow. So Akkad’s horsemen just need to be better trained and better mounted than our southern enemy. And that,” he waved his hand toward the valley, “is why we’re here.”
He stood. “Enough talk for now. While the horses rest, we will practice our sword fighting.”
They worked with their swords the rest of the morning and early afternoon. Then they gathered their horses and repeated the morning’s drill, moving quicker this time through the walk, trot and canter, and into the gallop.
When they finished, Eskkar collected his weary men. “Tomorrow, we’ll start again. This time we’ll narrow the gap a little each time, until there is just enough room for horse and rider to pass through Fashod’s line. And then we’ll start all over again, yelling our war cry and waving our swords. The horses need to hear and see all that, as well. In ten days or so, we’ll slaughter a cow and cover everyone with blood. Your horses will need to get used to that scent, too. Now get some sleep. You’re going to need it.”
By noon the next day, both the men and their mounts stood exhausted before Eskkar. He ordered them to take care of the horses first, then find something to eat and get some rest. As they moved to obey, a shout turned Eskkar’s eyes back to the mouth of the valley.
A small caravan had arrived. Eskkar dismounted and led his horse toward the newcomers. As he approached them, he took a count. Thirty men on horseback, another twenty on foot, and three small carts laden with supplies. Klexor swung down from his horse as his captain arrived.
“By the gods, Captain, if you were any farther north, we’d never have found you!”
The two men hugged each other for a moment. “Two days ride from Bisitun, and you’re complaining.”
“If you had to listen for two days to those carts squealing with every turn of the wheel, you’d be glad to arrive anywhere. Even the demon pits below can’t be that noisy.”
“Have you brought everything?”
“Not everything had arrived in Bisitun,” Klexor replied, “and I knew you wanted to start the men training as soon as possible. Another caravan should arrive tomorrow or the day after. After that, Sisuthros will have you on a regular schedule, with a caravan arriving every three days.”
“What have you brought?”
