patrols, we’ll know better what to do.”
“We may learn more from our spies in the next few days.” Annok-sur waited until all the bad news had sunk in. “And those fleeing the Tanukhs may be able to tell us more.”
“Meanwhile, we should not let the city see how grave this situation is,” Trella said. “If they see us looking worried…”
The commanders understood that problem. If the people living in and around Akkad saw doubts and fears on their leaders’ faces, they’d flee the city, and the defenders would have even fewer resources to withstand Sumer’s armies.
“We need to do more than that.” Eskkar looked for a moment at each of his commanders. “We need to tell… no, show the people that we will not only strike back, but that we will defeat Sumer. We need to remind everyone in Akkad that the one who strikes the first blow may not be the one who strikes the last. In battle, anything can happen. Our first defense has been broken, but we’ve many more weapons we can bring to bear. The people need to know that we will not only avenge the loss of Kanesh, but punish Sumer and the other cities until they beg for peace. We need to show more than strength. We need our people to understand that we are determined to avenge our losses, and that we will win.”
“The people already believe it,” Trella said. “You saved Akkad once from certain destruction. If we show strength, then they will remember that above all else. You will protect Akkad.”
“When I march our spearmen through the city’s lanes,” Gatus said, “the people will believe in our victory.”
“And as Annok-sur says,” Eskkar reminded them, “we’ll know more in a few days. There is no real danger to Akkad yet, and we’ve enough time to prepare.”
“Still, we’re going to need a new plan,” Gatus said.
Almost all of their tactics had relied on Kanesh withstanding any attacks, at least for a few days, until help could arrive or an orderly retreat set in motion. Now ninety good fighting men were dead or captured in Kanesh, and another thirty in Adarnar. Other outposts along the river had probably met the same fate. Akkad would be cut off from all information about the borderlands.
“Oh, yes,” Eskkar answered, wondering if his face revealed his own doubts. “We will most certainly need a new plan.”
A t sunset, Eskkar and Trella dined alone in the workroom. Neither had much to say. She had set aside their usual evening meal, eaten outside in the courtyard and always with the company of one or two of Eskkar’s commanders and their wives, or a few important tradesmen. Tonight they needed to be alone with their thoughts.
Eskkar had given all the necessary orders, and his commanders had taken over. Within the city three hundred archers readied themselves for a possible attack. Messengers galloped off to the north, announcing the arrival of war and summoning all the soldiers from the training camps.
Over the last few months, in preparation for the call to arms, Akkad’s horsemen and spearmen had moved closer to the city, shifting in small groups from the northernmost camps to newer ones closer to Akkad. Only a few miles away, just across the Tigris, close to three hundred of Hathor’s best-trained cavalry stood ready to ride at a moment’s notice. And on the east bank of the river, less than three miles away, five hundred tough spearmen waited for Gatus’s orders. The complete force of Akkad’s army needed only a few more days to reach the city.
Other riders had ridden to the outlying farms and villages, warning them to seek protection within Akkad’s high walls. In the next few days, grain, herd animals and other supplies would flood into the city, in preparation for a siege of long duration. Storage rooms would be filled to capacity with everything needed to withstand a siege. Akkad’s leaders had prepared as best they could for exactly this event. In the coming days, weeks or months those preparations would be tested against swords and spears.
Eskkar ate without tasting, pushing the warm chicken into his mouth, washing it down with well-watered ale. He left untouched the plate of still warm vegetables that he usually enjoyed, especially when dipped in oil.
At last Eskkar pushed his plate away and lifted his eyes to find Trella’s gaze on him.
“The barbarians are coming once again,” Trella said. “It’s almost as it was the night before the Alur Meriki attacked. We’ve done all we can to prepare. Now we have to fight to learn our fate.”
“The Sumerians aren’t barbarians.”
“Yes, they are, husband. Of a different sort, but just as eager to destroy what we’ve built. It seems as if mankind is divided into two kinds of people: barbarians who want to take from others, and those of us who want to make something better for ourselves, our friends and our children. All the progress we’ve made in the last few years, it’s all the work of a few good men working together. In a way, the Sumerians are even worse barbarians than the Alur Meriki. At least the steppe people know no other way. But Sumeria’s rulers should know better. They should work for their own people. Instead they crave triumphs over their own kind and others. They create disaster everywhere. They must be stopped.”
Eskkar accepted the gentle rebuke. Trella understood his concerns, his worries, his fear of failure. But she also wanted him to stand strong, and do what had to be done.
“Not stopped, Trella. They must be crushed, beaten down so hard that they never attempt this kind of war again. To give passage to the Tanukhs, the enemy of their own kind… everyman’s enemy, so that they can pillage our lands… you’re right, they’re worse than the Alur Meriki ever could be.”
“You are the man to do it, Eskkar. There is no other in Akkad who can do what needs to be done.”
“It will be a hard fight,” he reminded her, though she as well as anyone understood the ways of war. “Many will die.”
“If you do not win, everyone in Akkad may die. Remember that, Eskkar. Do what you must to make sure this doesn’t happen again. Sargon and I will await your return.”
Without realizing it, Trella had uttered much the same words that every mother in the Alur Meriki and other barbarian clans spoke when they bid their husbands and sons a final message before departing for war — return victorious over your enemies, or die bravely. Only by victory could the women and children left behind be truly safe.
Eskkar reached out and touched her hand. “Then I’ll return with a victory, wife.”
40
Five days later the Tanukhs continued raiding the southern countryside, but they had not moved as far north as Eskkar expected. Instead they remained close to Kanesh and the Sippar. Hundreds of farmers and villagers had fled the desert horsemen’s advance, running in fear to Akkad, some continuing on to even more distant villages. Most of the land between the city and Kanesh lay empty. There would be no harvest this season, and crops not burned by Tanukhs would wither in the fields. Only mounted scouts from both sides now ranged the empty land, each probing the other’s strength and gathering what information they could.
As Eskkar predicted, the same day the Tanukhs attacked Kanesh, the Sumerians summoned their men, gathered their forces, and moved northward. Shulgi’s vast army of soldiers traveled slowly, carrying a mountain of food with them, and making sure their supply lines remained intact. To everyone’s surprise, they halted when they reached Kanesh, and soon word reached the Akkadians that Shulgi had begun strengthening the village’s defenses.
With the war now openly proclaimed, Trella’s spies and informers had gleaned the basic thrust of Shulgi’s plan. He intended to march to Akkad north along the Tigris, but he also planned to establish half a dozen fortified outposts along the way. If that required twenty or thirty days, or even longer, it didn’t matter. Shulgi intended to ensure that supplies from the south could continue to reach his massive force. If attacked by Akkad’s army, the Sumerians could simply fall back to the nearest outpost and regroup before resuming their northward trek.
Trella had even learned the planned location of the last outpost, a mere four miles from Akkad. From there, Shulgi’s men would encircle the city. Crowded with people, the city would have to surrender in a few months when the food ran out.
Eskkar spent half the morning with his commanders discussing the latest reports, though they added little to what he already knew. When he had heard all the evil tidings he could stomach, he dismissed his men. Now only he
