by Sam Barone
Orodes rubbed the sleep from his eyes with the back of his hand. Daro and most of his soldiers had fallen back with the cavalry, to help keep Naxos and Hathor from annoying the digging crews. “None of us would care, as long as he didn’t wake us up doing it. Are the soldiers here?”
“Any moment now,” Daro said. “King Naxos and Hathor are right behind. I came on ahead, as soon as Luka’s messenger brought us the news.”
“Good.” Orodes couldn’t force himself to put any enthusiasm into his words. “We can use the help.”
“Where’s Luka?”
Orodes told Daro about the sea, and that he’d sent Luka on ahead.
“It’s true you can see the Great Sea?”
“Almost,” Orodes said.
Both men turned at the sound of horses approaching. One of Daro’s men had just finished with flint and stone and started a small fire from wood scraps and tinder the soldiers had brought with them. The man touched a torch to the tiny flame, and after a moment, held it high, revealing two tall figures striding toward them.
Daro helped Orodes get to his feet. “King Naxos, Orodes has succeeded. He’s cut his way through the mountains.”
Even in the torchlight, Orodes felt the penetrating eyes of King Naxos of Isin studying him. “Doesn’t look much like the richest man in Akkad right now, does he?” Naxos grunted at his own joke. “How far are we from the sea?”
Orodes, awake now, reacted the way most men did to the King of Isin – with annoyance. “About fifty paces, Lord Naxos. In the morning, after we cut through the last of this rubble, you’ll be able to see the beach from here. Less than a mile, I’d guess.”
“You’ve done well, Orodes, though you don’t look any more cheerful than the last time I saw you.”
Orodes turned to the second man, and recognized Hathor’s gaunt figure even in the flickering light. “Did you have any trouble along the trail?”
Hathor shook his head. “Lost a handful of horses, and two men to falls. But it took us much longer than we thought. We’re about out of food and water, and there won’t be much in the way of supplies coming down the trail for a few days.”
“How much food and how many horses do you have with you?”
Naxos, obviously unwilling to let Akkadians lead the conversation, answered that one. “The last of our forces caught up with us two days ago. We’ve almost five thousand horsemen strung out behind us, most of them wondering where in the name of all the gods they’re going. You’d better get us to the sea, Orodes, or I’ll send you back to Akkad in pieces.”
“You can depend on Orodes, King Naxos.” Daro’s voice showed his confidence. “If he says we’ll reach the water tomorrow, we’ll be there.”
“Have you sent any scouts on ahead?” Naxos paid no attention to Daro’s assurance.
Orodes again felt glad for his foresight. “Yes, Luka and two of his men went on ahead. They haven’t reported back yet. Luka probably went up the coast.”
“Or they’re prisoners of the Elamites, spilling their guts out under torture. If they’re not back here by morning, I’ll send out some scouts of my own.”
“By midmorning you can ride to the beach and see for yourself.” Orodes decided he had enough of the King of Isin.
If Naxos detected the hint of disrespect, he ignored it. Instead, he snorted and stalked away, the soldier carrying the torch accompanying him.
“Don’t hold too much against him, Orodes,” Hathor said. “We’ve been riding and walking the horses for sixteen days, creeping and twisting our way through these mountains. All that without knowing if your plan was going to work. It’s enough to put any man on edge.”
Orodes shrugged. “Well, by midmorning, he’ll be your problem. Me and my men, we’ll be heading back toward Akkad. All I want is enough food and water to get home. ”
“With most of our supplies gone, we’ve more than enough extra horses for your men. I’m sure we can spare you some food, enough to last until you meet up with the next supply train.”
Orodes knew that Lady Trella and Akkad’s efficient system of distributing supplies continued to send food and water through the mountains, to keep the soldiers and Orodes’s men supplied with the essentials as they carved the trail to the sea.
“Then if you don’t mind, I intend to go back to sleep. You and Naxos can ride to war and glory.” Orodes, weary and drained from his efforts, no longer cared who won the battle or lost it. He was going to start for home in the morning. If the Elamites reached Akkad’s walls, he would worry about that when it happened.
Muttering a belated prayer to Carsindar, the god of miners and diggers, Orodes slumped down along the rock, threw his dirty blanket over his chest, closed his eyes, and dropped back into the exhausted rest he’d so recently left.
Chapter 19
The next morning, Daro glanced up, and saw that the sun had climbed high in the blue sky. Mid day approached, as he, King Naxos, and Hathor emerged from the last of the hills and strode onto the grassy dunes that bordered the beach. The commanders left their men and horses back in the hills, hopefully out of sight and out of earshot of anyone on the sandy shore.
The expedition’s long journey through the foothills had ended, only six or seven days later than planned. For better or worse, the first part of Eskkar’s plan to save the City of Sumer from the Elamites had begun.
A few hundred paces away, the low waves rolled gently onto the white sandy shore, broken here and there by a scattering of black rocks spattered with bird droppings. Daro led the way toward two large boulders that marked the end of the hill country. Luka stood there, waiting for them. The slinger had just returned from his second scouting mission. Now the time had arrived for King Naxos and Hathor, as leaders of the expedition, to see and hear for themselves what lay before them.
The four men clambered to the top of the westernmost boulder. While not very high, it overlooked the tall grass, and they could see a mile or more of the shore in either direction. Both the shoreline and the gently rolling sea remained empty of life, except for the noisy gray and white sea birds that circled raucously overhead searching for food, swooping and gliding over the land.
The intoxicating sea smells washed over the four men, a blessing after the baking sun and horse stink that had accompanied their slow journey through the mountains.
Daro nodded to Luka. The two men, thrown together for the last two months, had become friends. The taciturn Orodes, in charge of breaking through the mountains, had kept to himself. Without a backward glance or a word of goodbye, let alone mention of good luck in their coming battle, Orodes and his men had departed just after midmorning. They would retrace their steps through the mountains and hopefully reach Akkad before the Elamites could lay siege to the city.
“What did you see?” King Naxos’s gruff voice cut short Luka’s greeting.
“The cove where the Elamites landed is a little less than three miles to the west, right where Yavtar said it would be.” Luka pointed with his arm. “The beach here was empty yesterday afternoon, so I waited until dark and then went along the coast. The Elamite camp was easy to see. I counted four or five campfires, so it must be big. I didn’t try to get too close. But I could see that supplies are piled up all over the beach.”
“Did you see any ships?” Daro, unlike Hathor, King Naxos, and their horsemen, had a very different mission.
“Not last night. I couldn’t be sure from the light of the fires. But this morning when I went back, I counted eight or nine boats beached on the sand, just above the water line. They look big, too, bigger than what we usually see on the Tigris. Each vessel had at least one tall mast. But no ships have passed this way today.”
Many of the boats that plied the Tigris and Euphrates boasted a small sail, but those that sailed over the Great Sea often relied on taller and stronger masts to harness the wind.
“So many boats!” Daro couldn’t keep the surprise out of his voice.
“I thought that would interest you,�
� Luka said.
Boats that made the journey along the coast line of the Great Sea had to be bigger and more rugged than the river boats that plied the relatively tame waters of the Tigris, Euphrates, or the other countless streams that crossed the land. More than a few river sailors had drowned until they recognized the fact that waves on the Great Sea could swamp the smaller boats.
That necessitated constructing larger and sturdier boats, which carried heavier cargoes and manned by larger crews, probably ten or twelve men to each ship. Even so, the boats hugged the shore as much as possible.
When Daro had first heard the term, “hugging the shore,” Yavtar had explained that meant riding the sea anywhere from a half mile to two miles off the beach, to avoid the low lying rocks and powerful breakers. Not to mention the shallows near the shoreline where waves might roll a vessel over.
“If we can capture those boats,” Daro said, “we can help cut the Elamite supply line.”
“You know we won’t be able to come back for you if you get into trouble.” Hathor made it a simple statement, not a warning.
Daro grinned at that. “You’ll likely find more trouble than I will.”
“What about the Elamite forces at the camp?” Naxos, impatient as ever, ignored Daro and kept his gaze on Luka.
Daro knew the boats meant nothing to Naxos, nor did the King have much interest in Daro’s plan for them. Still, Daro felt some sympathy for Naxos. The man had a daunting task of his own to deal with, and it had nothing to do with ships. The King of Isin had to worry about the twelve thousand or more enemy soldiers who might already have captured Sumer. Or if the Akkadians had been betrayed or detected, the Elamites might be just out of sight beyond the cove, waiting for Naxos and his soldiers to appear.
With luck, however, the enemy would believe their spies’ latest reports, and think that King Naxos and his horsemen had departed toward the west, to attack the city of Lagash.
“From the campfires, King Naxos,” Luka repeated, “I think they have less than three hundred men at most. Probably more than half of them sailors.”
King Naxos, in charge of the cavalry, had brought twenty-six hundred riders with him, nearly every mounted fighter he and his city could muster. Hathor and Akkad had contributed fifteen hundred more, almost half of all the Akkadian horse fighters. Another eight hundred horsemen came from Sumer, dispatched to the northern lands in small groups long before the enemy arrived.
All together, close to five thousand cavalry lay hidden in the hills behind the Akkadian leaders. If Eskkar’s luck still held, the Elamites knew nothing about this unseen force at their rear.
It also meant that these Elamites guarding the beach must be overwhelmed before they could send warning to their companions of the Akkadian presence.
Daro knew that for Naxos to have any chance of success, he needed to catch the enemy by surprise. The Elamite army, now encamped around Sumer’s walls, far outnumbered Naxos’s fighters. The cavalry he led might be behind the invaders, but should the Elamites discover this danger lurking in their rear, they would whirl around fast enough, and then Naxos would be the one with the sea at his back.
If that happened, it wouldn’t take much misfortune for the combined horsemen of Akkad and Isin to be trapped against the seacoast and destroyed.
Naxos stared at the empty windswept beach. As the moments passed, Daro wondered whether the King of Isin wished he and his men had remained safe behind their city’s walls. Even now, he might be considering turning around and retracing his steps through the foothills. Hathor and the Akkadians would stay, of course, and probably the Sumerians.
Hathor finally broke the silence. “The soldiers guarding the ships matter little. If we can finish them off before they can send a warning, the Elamites won’t know we’re here.”
Naxos shook off whatever gloomy thoughts had troubled him. “You’re right. We need the food and water anyway. At least we’ll be finished with these damned hills. We’ll move out as soon as the men are ready.”
The King of Isin, away from the treacherous mountains at last, seemed more relaxed. The prospect of fighting against a superior force apparently didn’t bother him.
As Daro watched, Hathor and Naxos scratched out lines on the top of the boulder, and went over the assignments and the order of march one last time. When they finished, Luka dashed off back into the hills, to bring the vanguard of the cavalry down to the beach. It would take time for the entire force to work its way through the last part of the narrow trail and assemble here.
Hathor turned to Daro. “Are you and your men ready? You’ll be on your own.”
“Better that, than galloping across the country,” Daro laughed. “My men are archers and boatmen, not horse fighters. As long as we can capture at least two boats, we’ll take our chances on the sea.”
“Then we’d better get moving.” Naxos turned his face away from the sea. “Hathor, post lookouts, and let’s get the men formed up as soon as we can. The quicker I get away from these damned hills, the better.”
“Remember, we just need to make sure that none of the boats get into the water,” Daro said. “If even one of them escapes to the sea, it will put all of us in danger.”
“We’ll do our best,” Hathor said. “You’ll ride with us?”
“Oh, yes. I need to see the boats, and I might have to get two or three of them into the water as quickly as possible. If any do escape, I might have to pursue. Hopefully, by the time we’re ready, no more will be arriving so late in the day.”
By mid afternoon, the last of King Naxos’s force finally emerged from the hills and joined the march westward. The long column of horses plodded along, not on the sandy beach, but farther inland, along the grassy belt that sprouted at the base of the hills.
A refreshing sea breeze in the men’s faces marked a dramatic change from the hot and still air of the mountains. For the first time in many days, the soldiers felt at ease. Even the prospect of a fierce battle against a numerically superior force didn’t seem to give them any concern.
The horsemen rode in two thick columns, with riders four abreast in each column. Despite the eight man wide front, the double line of horsemen stretched back almost a mile and a half.
Naxos wanted a slow pace, which made sense to Daro, who rode beside Hathor at the head of the column closest to the water. The Elamite army had trodden this same path, and hopefully the men at the beach would think this new approaching force just another, late arriving, part of the army. After all, Daro reasoned, enemies would not approach at a walk.
Soon the enemy camp could be seen, and Daro took a quick count. Eleven boats, far more than he had expected, lay in a jagged line on the sandy beach, out of the surf and well above the high water mark.
He saw no signs of crews loading or unloading cargoes, so the work must be finished for the day. Some of the empty boats likely would push out to sea and set sail for Elam at first light tomorrow. No doubt the others waited for Sumer to fall, so they could stuff their holds with captured loot before returning home.
Now, however, the boat masters and their sailors rested from their long voyage. With any luck, Daro prayed, half of them would be swilling wine or ale stolen from the cargo. The more he thought about it, Daro decided that many of them would be drunk. Sailors had uncanny skills at tapping into and skimming portions of the kegs, skins, or jars that carried ale and wine intended solely for the army’s commanders.
The blue waves topped with white foam of the Great Sea beat and fell upon the shore, moving back and forth with a powerful regularity that drew the eye. The sounds of the surf rumbling onto the sand added to the pleasant ride. Cool air blew off the water, refreshing soldiers who had sweltered among the rocks during the long journey south. Even the horses showed more spirit, apparently enjoying the softer mix of sand and grass beneath their hooves.
By now Daro could see the entire cove. No one in the camp paid any attention to their approach. He reminded himself that thousands of Elamite s
oldiers had made the same journey along the coast, and this would appear to be just one more contingent of soldiers joining the campaign.
Daro kept his position alongside Hathor. The column closest to the water was comprised of Akkadians. Naxos led the second column. All the men had been ordered to ride slumped on their horses, and to look both weary and bored, as if they had just completed a long journey. The King had also warned them not to gape like fools at the sight of the water, the first time most of these men had ever seen the Great Sea.
“Might as well turn toward them,” Naxos called out. He led the column closest to the hills. “We’d be expected to stop and talk.”
By now they were within five hundred paces of the camp. Two pennants flew about fifty paces apart, one yellow with black trim, and the other crimson with some emblem stitched in its center. As Daro watched, two men swung up onto horses and trotted out to meet them.
Without turning his head, Hathor gave the first order. “Pass the word. No one is to reach for a weapon until I give the command. ”
The two Elamites cantering toward them suspected nothing. One wore a brightly colored cloth wrapped around his head, with a glistening gemstone set in the fastening band. A sword hung from his waist. The other, unarmed, looked more like a servant than a guard. Daro surmised they were used to seeing strange folk in their empire. They halted their horses twenty paces from the head of the column. Naxos raised his right arm, and the vanguard eased their horses to a stop.
The leader of the Elamites spoke, his words an odd combination of gutturals and higher pitched sounds. Daro, though fluent in the language of southern Elam, had trouble understanding the meaning. Naxos didn’t bother to reply to their incomprehensible language. Instead he kicked his horse into motion, drawing his sword as the same time.
For a moment, the man just stared at the horse and rider rushing toward him, flashing death in his hand. The Elamite didn’t know whether to draw his sword or turn to flee. Before he could do either, Naxos’s sword swung down, striking at the base of the man’s neck.