The Blood Star (63 page)

That the brigands were regularly sending
parties of raiders over the mountains was, apparently, a recent
development. Maelius had assumed that the “great king in the east”
made war against some neighboring peoples and that Collatinus was
acting as his ally, and in this he had not been far wrong.

He was very precise about the brigands’
strength and disposition, telling me that Collatinus had a force of
about two hundred horsemen and that they occupied a stronghold less
than two hours’ walk to the north. And, as soon as I had discharged
my duty as a guest by eating a bowl of barley and milk curds
Maelius’ wife had prepared for me, it was in that direction that I
rode.

Collatinus’ “stronghold” consisted of a log
stockade with some earthworks thrown up outside the walls—in its
very air of casualness it demonstrated how safe the brigands felt
themselves, how little they looked for any armed resistance within
their own territories. I was able to ride all the way around it, at
a distance of no more than five hundred paces, without ever being
challenged or even encountering a patrol. I doubt if they even saw
me.

I had led a hundred men on a five days’
campaign to besiege a fortification in which the soldiers of Ashur
would not have descended to corralling their pack animals. How my
brother Esarhaddon would laugh now, I thought, to see the paltry
scale on which I fight my wars.

At about an hour past midday, the two horses,
with their slain riders still tied to their backs, at last stalked
up to the stockade gates. I watched from a clump of trees,
invisible in the shade, and I could hear the cries as the sentries
sent up their alarm. Since this was a provocation not even villains
careless as these could overlook, I started back toward our own
encampment.

“By the gods, Tiglath, where were you hiding
yourself? We began despairing of your life these three hours ago. .
.”

They crowded around me, my hundred
citizen-warrior Greeks, like children who had thought themselves
abandoned by their mother. I climbed off Epeios’ horse, and someone
handed me a cup of wine.

“Their riders have been everywhere—we thought
sure they would attack. What would we have done then, Tiglath, with
you face down in the mud somewhere?”

“These brigand horsemen are easily evaded,” I
told them. “A few gave chase along the way, but those who came
close enough to offer battle have not lived to regret it. Believe
me when I tell you, my friends, that we have nothing to fear. Our
enemies are perhaps just good enough to raid farmhouses, but they
are no army.”

“Neither are we, really. What if they had
attacked during your absence?”

“They will not attack as long as we stay
within our earthworks—horsemen are useless against a fortified
position. That is why we will leave here tomorrow and force a
battle upon them on their own ground.”

“Tiglath, the sun must have baked your
brains!”

The soldiers of Ashur would never have spoken
thus to me when I was
rab shaqe
of my father’s northern
army, but the Greeks were the Greeks and no respecters of rank.
That night, after the evening meal, for all that the assembly in
Naxos had elected me Tyrant, I had to explain my plans to these
farmers-turned-soldiers and to listen with patience to all their
objections and complaints, all their nagging fears that the style
of warfare I had taught them could not possibly prevail against
even such a force as Collatinus and his rogues. I listened, and
tried as best I could to explain away their fears, for had they not
been satisfied with my leadership they doubtless would have elected
themselves another commander and I would have found myself fighting
in the ranks.

“They have horses, Tiglath—all of them! How
are men on foot to stand against horsemen?”

“A horseman is still nothing but a man on a
horse, and cavalry are no better than a mob that can run fast. The
only advantage their horses will confer upon Collatinus’ band of
thieves is that, once we have defeated them in the field, the
survivors will find it easier to escape. Believe me, for I have
never seen horsemen prevail against foot soldiers, not even when I
fought against the Scythians, who are the best riders and the
bravest warriors the gods ever made.”

“Yet if we lose, we perish; while if they
lose, they can leave us with nothing gained except the field of
battle. What is the point of fighting them at all if, even when we
defeat them, they have only to run away?”

“My friends, where will they run except to
their stronghold? We will know where to look when we want
them.”

“They will be safe there.”

“No, they will be trapped.”

“That is foolish, since you claim we are safe
from attack behind these earthworks—how is it different for
them?”

“Cavalry cannot attack a fortified position,
but foot soldiers can. Once we have defeated them in the field,
their stronghold will serve for nothing except their tomb.”

“Yet we must defeat them first, and they
outnumber us two to one.”

“Smaller forces than ours have prevailed
against greater. We will defeat them.”

Thus it went, through half the night. I think
that the only reason they at last decided to accept my plan was
that no one had another. For this I did not fault them—I was much
less sure of victory than I sounded.

The gray light of dawn found me sitting atop
the crest of our earthworks, watching the brigand scouts as they
cantered back and forth, back and forth, across the plain, some six
or seven hundred paces distant. I saw four riders, but there were
probably more—they could not know if we would be prepared to offer
battle today or if we would wait, but Collatinus would want to hear
as soon as we broke out of our encampment.

Epeios came and joined me, bringing with him
a bowl of dried meat for my breakfast.

“The men have all eaten,” he said. “So should
you.”

“The river is an hour’s march from here,” I
answered, setting the bowl aside—somehow I could never seem to keep
anything on my stomach at such times. “We must be on the other
shore before word reaches Collatinus that we have started to move.
If they gain control of the north bank ahead of us, and we are
caught on this side, then there will be no battle and he will have
won by default. If they surprise us while we are still fording the
river, it will be a disaster. He does not know where we intend to
cross, so he must wait for his scouts to bring him notice—that is
something. And his stronghold on the other side is twice as far
from the river as is our encampment. We are entitled to hope that
time is with us. In his place, I would bring my forces closer in,
within sight of the bank, and wait with them there even if it took
a month, but I do not think Collatinus has done that.”

“Why do you think he has not?”

“Because I do not think he can keep his men
under that kind of discipline—no one likes to sit in his armor on
the cold ground. We do not fight an army, remember, but a band of
thieves.”

“I hope you are right.”

“So do I.”

We watched the brigand scouts a while longer,
consoled by our own silence.

“Assemble the men,” I told him at last. “Give
me five minutes after I have taken them over the earthworks, then
come out with your horsemen. Some of you will provide Collatinus’
riders with someone to chase, and the rest will fan out toward the
river to see if anything is moving there. Keep me informed.”

“Where will you be?”

“In the second rank of the left-hand battle
square, with the javelin throwers.”

“Should you not stay in the center? It is not
wise to expose yourself like that—what if you are killed?”

“I must be where I can keep our lines in
order. Besides, who will follow a leader who will not share the
common danger? Our neighbors would think me a coward, and they
would be right.”

“It shall be as you order, Tiglath.”

The men stamped their sandaled feet against
the earth and looked about them nervously as they adjusted spears
and leather shields, the unaccustomed implements of battle. Hardly
anyone spoke, and each did what he could to hide his growing fear.
I knew how they felt, for I remembered what it was to face an enemy
for the first time. It was not so very different with me now.

“We will go over the earthworks at quick
march,” I told them. “We will all call the pace together—right,
left, right, left. Do not be tempted to break into a run, or your
lines will go to pieces. Remember, survival in battle depends on
keeping together and maintaining a decent order. Do not be afraid
of the brigand horsemen, but depend upon the archers and the
javelin throwers to deal with them. As long as we keep our squares
tight and our spears level, they can do nothing against us—after
all, not even a horse is stupid enough to try eating a
hedgehog.”

This made them laugh, which was good. Men who
can still laugh are proof against any sudden panic.

I took my place in the left-hand battle
square. Enkidu was in the right-hand square, in the center of the
first rank. He was like a wall, and he feared nothing—as I had
known they would, men drew confidence from the mere sight of
him.

“Over the top, then!”

We breasted our earthworks one rank at a
time, slowing when we reached level ground that the rank behind
could pull up. It took us five or six minutes for everyone to reach
the plain, but by the time Collatinus’ scouts had begun to react we
had reformed our squares and were back in good order.

I shouted a command and both squares wheeled
to the right and began moving north at a quick trot.

For several minutes, while their horses
snorted with impatience and pawed at the ground, the brigand scouts
simply watched us, as if they did not quite know what to do. Then
two of them broke toward the river at a dead gallop. The remaining
three, more foolish than the others, started toward us.

I cannot guess what sport they expected, but
they thundered down on us waving their swords over their heads. I
called a halt, told the first two rows of archers in both squares
to make ready, and waited the quarter of a minute it required to be
sure the riders were within range before I gave the order to
shoot.

There was the harsh twang of thirty
bowstrings singing together and a cloud of arrows took off, sailed
through the empty air, and then dropped on their targets. Two of
the brigands fell limply from their seats, dead before they touched
the ground, and the third, alive and apparently unhurt, was pitched
off by his wounded horse. He scrambled to his feet and ran like a
rabbit.

The Greeks cheered, but there was no time to
celebrate a victory. We took up our trotting pace again, and a
quarter of an hour later the first of our riders returned.

“Clear to the river, Tiglath!” he shouted.
“Callias went across to climb the bank for a look—he shouted back
that he could see nothing.”

Half an hour later we were there to judge for
ourselves.

There are few undertakings so frightful to a
commander as leading an army across a river and into hostile
territory. To be surprised at such a time is to be annihilated, for
soldiers can do little to defend themselves while they are still
waist-deep in swirling water. We were forty minutes getting the
last man over, and I died inside every time a scout rode up to
report if Collatinus’ horsemen had been sighted.

And indeed we had hardly dried our sandals
when Epeios rode up to announce that the enemy would be on us in a
quarter of an hour.

“It is all right,” I said to him, loud enough
that everyone might hear. “We have made the bank, so we have level
ground to fight upon. And we will have no need of a retreat.”

I did not give them time to think—no man is
better for thinking when he is face to face with his first battle.
Our riders, as they came in, one after the other, with the same
news, abandoned their horses and joined the ranks of the two battle
squares.

“Remember—stay tight! Let their charge break
over us like the sea over a rock. Let them die before our arrows
and impale their lives upon the iron points of our spears!”

They shouted their answer, for they were
defying their own fear as much as any enemy. We trotted forward at
the same steady rate until the river was some hundred paces behind
us. We could already see the clouds of dust raised by the brigand
horsemen.

How many were there? A hundred and fifty? Two
hundred? Such things freeze a soldier’s bowels with terror. Soon
the pounding of their hooves against the earth was like summer
thunder, and here and there the pale morning light flashed from
their bronze swords. War cries like the shrieking of hawks trembled
in our ears—these were not men but demons, pouring toward us to
deal out cruel death, to leave our corpses to rot unmourned in the
pitiless sun. Thus our fears would have it. There seemed nothing to
do except to wait.

Yet a soldier lives not to die but to fight,
and these were not demons but men. I delayed only until they came
within range.

“Draw your bows!—let fly!”

Massed arrows are as indiscriminate as rain,
but they kill at a great distance. I know not how many of
Collatinus’ robber warriors fell dead in that one instant, but we
could see their horses tumbling over into the dust like wine jugs
toppled from a shelf. Suddenly there was a new sound, the screams
of the maimed and dying rending the air.

A second flight dropped hissing down upon
them to bury their points in the flesh of men and animals.
Collatinus lost fully one in six of his horsemen before they ever
came within seventy paces of our lines. And then it was time for
the javelins to do their work.

There were twenty of us, ten each in the
second and third ranks of both squares, and the men behind fell
back to give us space for throwing. The brigands were almost upon
us now, and they were still many, so each of us had to measure our
aim and only the quick had any chance for a second dart.