Conflict of Empires (2010) (61 page)

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Authors: Sam Barone

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BOOK: Conflict of Empires (2010)
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“After you’ve been defeated at Kanesh!” Bantor couldn’t conceal his anger.

“I don’t intend to be defeated at Kanesh,” Eskkar said. “In fact, I don’t
intend to fight at all, at least not yet, and certainly not at Kanesh.”

They stared at him, some smiling for the first time, others surprised at the hint of a new strategy.

Gatus laughed, his coarse guffaw breaking the tension. “So you’ve come up with some new hare-brained idea to get us all killed. I’ve been expecting some strange barbarian tactic to pop out of your mouth.”

“It’s dangerous enough, Gatus,” Eskkar said, “but you’re the one who made it possible. So if anything goes wrong, it will be as much your fault as mine. Now, do you want to complain or would you rather hear what I’ve got to say?”

He went through the plan for the second time that day, explaining every task he expected to complete, and the role each of them would play. Eskkar plotted each day’s position on the map, laid out his forces and their objectives. He spoke slowly, covering every essential point. Men, horses, boats, supplies, weapons, Eskkar explained how he intended to use each of them. Slowly, his commanders began to nod their heads in agreement.

Nevertheless, every one of them had a half dozen objections and as many suggestions. Eskkar answered them all, one by one, and in as much detail as he could. Then Gatus started answering the questions, followed by Hathor. By then, Eskkar could lean against the Map Room wall and watch. He turned to Trella and saw the slight movement of her eyes that meant approval. Eskkar’s commanders had accepted his plan, and soon they would make it their own.

Gatus had the last question, and he directed it not at Eskkar, but Trella. “And you think this can work? Ismenne agrees with this? Annoksur?”

“We see no other way to win, Gatus,” Trella answered. “Every other course of action merely delays our defeat. Eskkar’s plan is not something Shulgi will expect. It is dangerous, to be sure, but no more dangerous than remaining inside Akkad and waiting for the end. And we’ll be on the offensive.”

Gatus snorted. “Offensive, is that what you’re calling it? Well, I always said your husband would get us all killed one of these days. I just never expected anything like this. Still, I do like it better than hiding behind Akkad’s walls and waiting. Doing that once was enough.” He glanced around the table. “When do we march?”

“Tomorrow.” Eskkar glanced up at the narrow windows, and saw only
grayness. Dusk had fallen. “You’ve got the rest of the night to prepare your men, all of you.”

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.”

41

 

 

 

T
he army of Akkad marched south at an easy pace. They stayed close to the Tigris, both for access to fresh water, and to be resupplied by Yavtar’s boats. For the last two years, while Eskkar worked and trained with his commanders, Yavtar and Trella had planned ways to supply the army. In preparation, they established eight temporary docks and way stations between Akkad and the border outpost of Kanesh. As soon as the army commenced moving south a steady stream of boats loaded up their cargo and pushed away from Akkad’s jetties. Trella’s supply clerks, many of them women, had planned each march of the campaign and knew what particular supplies would be needed at every step.

Those cargoes would make sure Eskkar’s forces traveled light and fast. The army would stop briefly at each way station on their journey south, and Yavtar’s fleet of boats would bring grain for the horses and fresh bread for the soldiers. Eskkar knew that Trella would keep the cooking ovens in Akkad burning from dawn until well into the night, and that supplies and even a few extra men would be ready for him at every stage of his march.

Shulgi’s army also relied on the river for food and supplies, but if Trella’s spies knew their business, the Sumerians had less than fifty boats working the river. Yavtar, meanwhile, commanded over sixty supply vessels, plus ten ships fitted specifically for battle. Each warship carried at least sixteen to twenty archers in addition to the regular crew of sailors and rowers. These ships would provide protection for the supply ships.

The Sumerians had captured the trading post at Kanesh, established
two years ago to facilitate trade between Akkad and the Sumerian cities. Located at the juncture of the Tigris and the Sippar, the post had little value, except as a place to store goods being shipped north or south, and to provide travelers and traders a safe place to meet and haggle over prices. Nevertheless, almost a hundred archers and swordsmen had been stationed there, and the villagers dwelling within had increased that number to well over three hundred.

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