Gone were the days when its inhabitants trembled at the name of the dreaded barbarian horsemen.
“Unless they’re betrayed from within.” Eskkar turned to Draelin. “You’re going back on the river at once. Double up the crew and get back there as fast as you can. Tell Bantor to be wary of treachery, some plot to open the gates or scale the wall somehow.”
“I was hoping to stay with you, Lord Eskkar, and join the fight here.”
“I think you’ll find all the fighting you want back in Akkad. Take my message to Bantor and Trella. Go now.”
“Yes, Lord.” Draelin turned and ran off, back toward the river.
“Damn the Alur Meriki!” Eskkar said. “I’d hoped we were done with them for a few more years.”
“May they all rot in the demon’s pits,” Gatus said, not caring that Eskkar had once belonged to that clan. “You think Shulgi has men inside Akkad?”
“We have men inside their cities.” Some of Trella’s deep-laid plans over the last two years were still to be put to the test, but Shulgi and Kushanna were just as crafty. “If the Sumerians have been talking to the Alur Meriki, they must have talked about some way to get inside.”
“We can send some men back to the city,” Hathor said. “A few hundred horsemen ought to be enough to drive them off.”
“No, that’s what Shulgi wants, for us to try and defend the city. If we send men back, we won’t have enough to fight the Sumerians. We need every man we have.” Eskkar took a deep breath. “Akkad will have to hold out by itself.”
“Draelin should be back before the Alur Meriki arrive,” Gatus said. “It’s only going to take him a day or so to get upriver.”
“Trella will be watching for any treachery. As soon as she heard of the Alur Meriki’s approach, she’ll know what to do.”
“I could send some horsemen, in case Draelin doesn’t get through,” Hathor suggested.
“No, we’re already surrounded by Razrek’s fighters. You’d never get a man through on horseback. Only the river is safe now.”
“Then we continue on?”
“We continue. Make sure the men get as much rest and sleep as possible. I want us to be well on our way before daybreak. This may be their last good night’s sleep for quite a while. You know what to do. Make sure everything is ready.”
Eskkar strode away, to try and get some sleep if he could. He had forced himself to sound confident before his men, but worries about Trella and little Sargon’s safety would be with him for the next few days. No one wanted to return to Akkad more than he did, but he had to trust in Trella and her instincts. She would know what to do, and Bantor would heed her advice. Between the two of them, Akkad would be well defended. When Eskkar did finally fall asleep, he dreamt of the days when he stood on Orak’s walls, defending the village from the ravaging Alur Meriki.
The rest of the Akkadians settled in for the night. Nearly a quarter of the men remained awake and alert, and even those who slept kept their weapons at hand. Torches burned all night, lit by oil delivered as part of the boats’ cargo just for that purpose.
He slept uneasily, waking often. Once Eskkar roused himself enough to speak to some of the guards, all of whom urged him to return to sleep. When Grond finally woke him, Eskkar glanced up at the sky. The waning moon indicated dawn was still far off, but that made no difference. In moments he was wide awake, slinging his sword over his shoulder.
“Is everything ready?” Eskkar knew that Grond would have awakened even earlier, and would have checked on Gatus and Hathor’s preparations.
“Yes, Captain. Gatus will be ready to move out in a few moments.” Eskkar strode among his men, stepping in and out of the light cast by the flickering torches. Faces turned toward his, and for the first time he saw a hint of fear and nervousness on their faces. The night held its own terrors, and made even brave men afraid.
He found Hathor, Klexor and Fashod together, making their final preparations. At the last moment, Fashod of the Ur Nammu had decided to join the expedition and take command of the forty warriors who had volunteered to fight Akkad’s enemies. Most of them were young and looking forward to their first battle. All three men faced him as he approached, and in the flickering torchlight he saw no signs of doubt or concern on anyone’s face.
“We’re ready to begin, Captain.”
“Your men are going to be surprised.”
“That they will,” Klexor said. “Half of them will piss themselves with fright when they finally learn of the plan.”
“And the other half will be too scared to piss,” Eskkar answered, the old adage never more true than now. “Good hunting to you all. I’ll see you on the twelfth day.”
“On the twelfth day. We’ll be there, Captain.”
For a moment Eskkar felt tempted to go over the plan once again, but he caught himself in time. Both Hathor and Klexor knew what to do. Their subcommanders would learn the news once the sun had risen and the horsemen were safely out on their way.”
“Then get your men moving. Make sure my way is clear until dawn.”
At the next campfire, he found Gatus and Alexar waiting for him to arrive, both of them ready to move out. “It’s time to go, Eskkar.”
“Well, then, Gatus, lead them out.” Eskkar glanced behind him, and saw the first column of Hathor’s riders on the move.
Everything had been discussed and planned and readied for this moment. Once the horsemen moved out, Eskkar, his commanders, everyone would be committed. If he had misjudged their enemy, or something unforeseen cropped up, they might all be dead by midday.
Grond approached, leading two horses, and Eskkar took Boy’s halter. He’d named his favorite warhorse after the fine stallion he’d ridden many years ago. Boy stood even taller than his namesake, and Eskkar had worked with him until the two of them merged into a single fighter.
“Well, Boy, today’s the day you earn all that grain you’ve been eating all these years.”
He swung up onto Boy’s back. The stallion bucked once, just to show his spirit, and then settled in.
The sun edged over the horizon, casting a rosy glow into the sky. The soldiers shoved the torches into the earth and gathered up their weapons. Gatus started the spearmen moving south. Screened by horsemen on either side, the men walked in a column four abreast, every man grunting under the heavy load of food and bulging water skins they carried, along with their weapons.
Shouts echoed from the darkness all around them. The Sumerian sentries heard the activity, had probably crept up close enough to see what was going on. That didn’t matter, as long as they didn’t try to contest the passage, which wasn’t likely. Shulgi and Razrek had probably expected a night attack. When that had failed to materialize, the Sumerians would assume an attack at dawn. They would expect the Akkadians to move toward them, would be waiting for them when dawn broke. Indeed, Eskkar felt certain King Shulgi and his Sumerian allies had prepared well for any assault on his position.
They were going to be surprised indeed when the sun rose.
42
By mid-morning a crowd of soldiers milled about near King Shulgi’s command post, blocking the path cleared and marked so that scouts and other messengers could bring messages to their leader. Swearing at the stupidity of villagers turned soldiers who couldn’t seem to remember the simplest of orders, Razrek rode his gray stallion to within fifty paces of his destination before he swung down from his horse.
He pushed his way through a group of laughing soldiers, knocking one man aside and sending another stumbling to the ground. The offended soldier rose with a curse that died on his lips when he saw Razrek’s scowling face, even before the man recognized the Sumerian army’s second in command. King Shulgi, seated on a stool before a narrow table scarcely larger than the map that covered its surface, glanced up at Razrek’s approach.
