T he next morning, just before dawn, Eskkar rode out of the Compound, Grond at his side. Twenty picked warriors from the Hawk Clan waited in the lane outside, his personal guard. Ten rode in advance, and ten followed close behind Eskkar’s horse. The horsemen kept their eyes moving and their hands on their swords. War had come to Akkad, and treachery could strike at any moment and from any direction. The city always held a good number of strangers, and even Annok-sur’s army of women couldn’t watch all of them all the time. A single arrow shot from a rooftop could bring down even Eskkar.
But the lanes of Akkad remained almost empty of life, and the few sleepy tradesmen who happened to be up and about shrank in fear against the nearest wall or ducked back into the first doorway they could reach as the grim riders trotted by. Eskkar’s guards never slowed, and they soon reached the city’s main gate, which creaked open just in time to let the king and his guards ride through without breaking the pace.
They followed the well-packed dirt of the road until it forked, then took the southern route toward the first assembly point, about six miles away. In the last few days, Eskkar’s commanders had assembled the army in four such camps, each a few miles apart. With such a large number of soldiers under arms, Eskkar didn’t want the men wandering loose in Akkad, with its numerous temptations for women, wine and gambling. Not to mention any possible spies from Sumer, or even traders who might talk too much about what they’d seen or heard. And so the men had said their farewells days ago, and now waited for the order to march.
Eskkar had said his goodbye to Trella last night, when they held each other tight. They had never endured a parting such as this. Often enough, Eskkar had ridden off to do battle, but this time he went to wage war on the land of Sumeria, and for this conflict there would be many battles to be fought. Both of them knew that this might be the last time they could cling to each other. Even Eskkar’s final words had acknowledged the risk. “Watch over Sargon, our son. Train him well.”
A poor choice of words, Eskkar decided in the light of dawn, almost as if he expected to fall in battle. He felt no such premonitions, no hint from the gods that this time his luck might desert him, but only a fool tempted fate with such words. The one sensation he experienced was relief. More than two years of preparation had created a well-trained and superbly equipped army. Now would come the true test of all that time and training. The sooner he closed with Shulgi’s invaders, the quicker the war would end.
At the first camp Hathor waited with three hundred horsemen mounted and ready to ride. In addition to their weapons, each man carried a water skin and a sack bulging with food. Twenty pack animals brought up the rear, each burdened with a cooking pot and as much bread and grain as it could carry. No fires burned, and only a few women and boys stood watching in silence, many with tears streaming down their faces, as their menfolk rode off to war. Eskkar and his guards fell in beside the Egyptian, who gave the command that started the entire force moving in a double column.
“Any problems?” The two leaders rode close together, feet almost touching as they cantered along at an easy pace.
“None, Captain. Not even a horse going lame. The men are eager to ride.”
“Let’s hope they feel that when they see Razrek’s cavalry.”
Hathor laughed. “One battle at a time, isn’t that what you keep saying?”
This time it was Eskkar who laughed. “My father used to say, don’t count the number of your enemies, just kill the man in front of you.”
“Your father must have been a great and wise warrior.”
“He was.”
Something in Eskkar’s words told Hathor not to pursue the subject. Not many knew about Eskkar’s early years and his wanderings before coming to Akkad. He preferred to keep that part of his life a well-guarded secret.
They reached the second camp without speaking further. Klexor pulled himself onto his horse as they approached, and swung in beside Eskkar and Hathor, who slowed their pace but didn’t halt the men. “Good morning, Captain. My men are ready to ride.”
“Well done, Klexor.” Eskkar reached out and placed his hand on the man’s shoulder.
As the original column rode past, Klexor’s five hundred and thirty riders fell into place behind them. By the time they gathered in the scouts on patrol and the Ur Nammu riders, there would be close to eight hundred and fifty horsemen.
The third camp stood ready when they arrived. Gatus, wearing a wide-brimmed reed hat to shade his bald head from the sun, sat astride a gentle mare. At least for this campaign the old soldier had decided to admit his age. Gatus had promised his men that he would march and fight on foot beside them, but they had protested until he agreed to use the mare to keep pace with his men. Now he waited at the head of twenty-eight hundred spearmen.
Eskkar halted the horsemen, and waved toward Gatus, who ordered his men to move out, marching them four abreast and taking the lead. Except for those riding patrols around the main force, the horsemen would follow in their path, leaving the way free of horse droppings for the foot soldiers.
The bowmen, slingers, and the remaining men waited at the fourth camp. Eskkar could see a few of them still taking target practice as his men approached. When they saw Eskkar approaching at the head of the army, Alexar and Mitrac summoned their men back into ranks, and they fell in behind Gatus and his spearmen.
The city of Akkad was going to war, with a mighty army larger than anything Eskkar had ever imagined. Counting everyone, the army numbered just over five thousand, an incredible number of fighting men. He knew they were good men. Many had trained for this day for over two years, and even the least experienced man among them had at least six months to learn his trade. Those with less experience remained in Akkad, to continue their training and defend the city’s walls under Bantor’s command.
Eskkar’s most loyal commander, Bantor had protested his assignment most of the night. Finally Gatus ended the argument. “We’re leaving our women and children in your care, because you’re the best man to protect them. So follow your orders and stop complaining just because you can’t go off and get killed with the rest of us.”
Eskkar had smiled at that. In reality, he had wanted to leave Gatus behind as well, but he knew all the spearmen would fight better under Gatus’s eye. Besides, he would never have obeyed such an order.
As they marched south, Eskkar studied the men. The soldiers’ training had been arduous, even brutal at times, but as Eskkar and every barbarian knew from childhood, you trained long and hard so that the actual fighting would be easy. Not easy, but at least something familiar to each man. He had to remind himself that more than half of these men had never raised a weapon in anger. For many of them, real battle would be something new and frightening, something beyond anything they’d ever dreamed of.
Fortunately, the Sumerian soldiers were much the same, at least as far as battle experience. But what the Sumerians lacked in experience, they made up in numbers. Trella’s spies had come up with all kinds of numbers, but they all agreed on one thing — at least fifteen thousand men were under arms, controlled by King Shulgi. Other estimates had placed the number of Akkadian enemies at as much as twenty-five thousand, a number so vast that Eskkar had trouble grasping it.
Six cities, plus the half-barbarian scum that lived and raided along the western desert now served under Shulgi’s banner. The Sumerian king might be little more than a boy, but somehow in two short years he had assembled and trained the largest army the world had ever seen, and now he intended to use it against Akkad.
Eskkar understood what risks lay ahead of him. If he faced Shulgi in battle and were defeated, it might mean the end of Akkad. Even if Eskkar and part of his army survived and managed to retreat behind Akkad’s walls, such a huge enemy force could take its time and starve the city until it surrendered. And these new besiegers would not repeat the mistakes of the Alur Meriki. The Sumerians would establish their resupply lines and take their time, until the city was ripe for the taking. Eskkar frowned at the thought. The idea of someone other than himself and Trella ruling Akkad’s people and lands was unbearable.
“Worried about something, Captain?”
Hathor’s words brought Eskkar back to the present. He straightened up, and pushed the dark thoughts from his mind. “Just thinking about what’s ahead of us.”
“Shulgi has raised a powerful force, but our men are better trained. And he’s young, and lacks experience. As long as — ”
“As long as we don’t fight him on his terms.” Eskkar laughed. “Well, let’s hope our plan for that works.”
“It will, Captain. It will.”
