by Sam Barone
“Perhaps he would. But he did not. As Eskkar told you, the fate of the war is in your hands. Even if he wins a victory over the Elamites, it will be of little value if Sumer and the southern lands fall.”
“We’re still outnumbered three or four to one,” Naxos said. “The Elamites may swallow us whole.”
Hathor laughed. “Eskkar once told me that in every battle he ever fought, he was always outnumbered. It’s the will to victory that wins battles. The Elamites are confident of their numbers and sure of their conquest. That will be their weakness. Lead your men with honor. No man can do more.”
Naxos digested that for a moment. “You like Eskkar, don’t you?”
For the first time, Hathor heard only honest curiosity in the King’s voice. “Yes, I do. We are friends. Fifteen years ago, he gave me back my life when a single word could have ended it. Since that day I have found nothing but honor in the man. He cares naught for glory or gold, only for the life of his city.”
Hathor remained the only survivor of the hated Egyptians, who had once fought against the soldiers of Akkad. Hathor and others had seized control of the city after a night of bloodshed. But the Egyptians ruled Akkad only for a few days, before Eskkar returned and led a small group of followers over the wall to rescue his wife and child and reclaim his city.
When the battle ended, Eskkar had fought and captured Korthac, the leader of the Egyptians. Attempting to flee, Hathor had taken a wound that left him unable to fight or escape. Only Trella’s plea to her husband saved Hathor from the torturers and death.
In the years since, a bond formed between Eskkar and Hathor. Both men started life as outcasts, and both found themselves alone in a strange land. Eskkar understood what Hathor had faced in those first few years, before the people and soldiers of Akkad had, grudgingly at first, accepted the role that Eskkar had given him.
Over time, Hathor received many gifts and honors from Eskkar and Trella, but by far the most valuable was his wife, Cnari, who had given him his first real family.
Naxos broke the silence. “Yet Eskkar builds an empire that threatens to swallow Isin and all the other cities of the Land Between the Rivers.”
“You would prefer the constant battles between cities, like the Sumerians did? Or more attacks from the steppes warriors, or this invasion of the Elamites? Perhaps, King Naxos, the age of empires is upon us all. Rather than resist its coming, you might find it more pleasing to become a part of it.”
A shout ended the conversation. One of Naxos’s scouts had returned, galloping his horse until he pulled up at Naxos’s side.
“We saw Sumer’s walls and the Elamite army!” The excited scout waved his hands as he spoke. “We’re less than three miles from the city.”
Even Naxos’s dour face showed excitement. “Were you seen? Did they spot you?”
“No, my lord. Their camp, thousands of men, is spread out in a ring around the city. I ordered my men to stay and keep watch. I came back at once.”
“Good.” Naxos turned to Hathor. “What do you think?”
Hathor had further questions for the scout, but the man had seen little more than the enemy camp and the city.
“Well, it doesn’t look as if they know we’re behind them.” Hathor kept his voice calm. “Let’s ride ahead and see for ourselves what’s there. Meanwhile, I think we should keep our men moving ahead. If we stop here, and someone sees us, it may look odd. If we keep moving ahead, they may think we’re just more reinforcements from Elam.”
Naxos rubbed his beard for a moment. “All right. We’ll take a look.” He ordered his commanders to keep the men going at the same slow pace, told the scout to lead the way, then urged his horse into a gallop.
Hathor touched his heels to his horse, and followed. A mile sped beneath their hooves, and the two leaders soon reached the four scouts waiting for them at a stand of palm trees. The men had tied their mounts to a bush, and now lay on the ground beneath the northernmost stretch of trees.
Hathor dismounted and calmly fastened his horse to a nearby tree, deliberately taking his time. Naxos must have taken the hint, for he slowed himself down. Together the two leaders moved forward, until they reached the others, hugging a small rise in the earth.
Dropping to the ground beside the scouts, Hathor peered beneath some low hanging palm fronds. He took in the grassy countryside that encompassed Sumer. The farmhouses that had once surrounded the city had vanished, knocked into a rubble of mud bricks days ago by the city’s defenders. Anything useful to an invading army had been removed or destroyed. He saw no herds of sheep, goats, or cattle. Black scars covered the land, where Sumer’s defenders had torched the crops and grasslands.
Closer to Sumer, he saw smoke from many fires rising into the air. The fires followed the rough curve of Elamite soldiers that had encircled the city on three sides, from the northern riverbank to the southern riverbank. Both leaders stared at the sight, studying the ground, the enemy, and the lay of the land between. The nearest Elamites were at least a mile away.
Naxos broke the silence first. “A lot of men.”
“Yes, but we don’t have to fight all of them.” Hathor pointed to the well beaten track that led to the city. “We can come down the road until we’re almost at the city. Then we sweep to the left, and attack the enemy on the south side of the city. Either we drive them into the river or up against the walls.”
“This is better than we’d hoped,” Naxos agreed. “Where is the fording place?”
In the war against Sumer, Hathor had studied all the approaches to the city and the surrounding countryside. That personal knowledge of the terrain had been one more reason why Eskkar gave Hathor the responsibility of command. During the long ride through the mountains, he and Naxos had discussed the many possibilities of what could await them when they reached the cove, on the ride to Sumer, and even what they might find when they arrived at the city.
Of course they had hoped to take the enemy by surprise, but every eventuality had to be considered. The worst situation, that they failed to take the Elamites by surprise, would have resulted in their facing a slightly more numerous contingent of enemy cavalry. While the Elamites had a larger force of horse fighters, a sizable number of these would likely be scouting the north, to prevent any reinforcements or attacks from Isin and Akkad.
So even a direct attack by the enemy might not prove disastrous. And Naxos and Hathor could always slip across the Tigris in relative safety.
But the surprise appeared complete. Now the long planning sessions allowed the two commanders to make rapid decisions.
“The fording place is over there, about a mile south of the walls.” Hathor pointed toward the river on their left. “You can just make out the two sandbars that divide the water. We can safely ford there.”
“Once we cross over, we should be able to hold the west bank, at least for a time.”
“There’s a good chance we can ride right up to them.” Hathor couldn’t keep a hint of excitement from his voice. “With the captured pennants from the cove, even when they see us, they may take us for more reinforcements.
Naxos took another long look at the enemy position. For perhaps fifty heartbeats, he said nothing, just stared at the enemy encampments. “I’ve fought many fights, Hathor, but I’ve never led so many men into battle, against so many.” He took a deep breath. “What do you suggest?”
Hathor understood the man’s pride, and his reluctance to take advice from another. But Naxos wanted to win, and obviously he knew now was not the time to spurn the wisdom of others.
“King Naxos, I think we should just continue up the trail, until we’re ready to attack. Then hit the enemy south of the city.” Drawing his knife, Hathor scratched lines in the dirt. Soon Naxos added his own ideas, and the two men worked out the battle plan. It didn’t take long, and when they finished, both men were smiling.
They slipped away from the edge of the trees, and returned to the horses. Hathor swung onto his horse. “Now we j
ust have to tell the commanders. They can tell the men as we ride. I want every man to know what’s going to happen.”
“That won’t take long.” Naxos mounted his horse, but ordered the scouts to stay behind and keep watch, until the Akkadian cavalry arrived. “Our men have trained for this kind of battle, and they’re ready for a fight. They only need to know where to ride and who to kill.”
Chapter 22
Grand Commander Chaiyanar sat on a cushioned and comfortable chair atop a small grassy knoll that gave him a good view of Sumer’s walls and its main gate. The chair had accompanied him on the ship from Sushan. Not trusting such a valuable possession on a pack animal, one of his personal guards had carried it, grunting under the weight, all the way from the beach.
Short in stature and with more than a hint of an expanding belly, Chaiyanar had participated in or directed numerous sieges in the last ten years. Early on he’d learned the importance of a comfortable place to sit.
Overhead, a reasonably clean white awning, fastened to four tall stakes driven into the ground, provided the only patch of shade. The Sumerians had cut down every tree, and burned every bush within miles of the city’s walls. But Chaiyanar expected the usual petty inconveniences, and no longer let such things bother him.
A small table stood at his left hand, holding pitchers of water and wine, as well as a platter containing dates, honey, and bread, everything covered by a white cloth to keep off the bothersome flies. His chief servant hovered nearby, eager for the chance to do his master’s bidding. At Chaiyanar’s right, a naked girl knelt, waiting to perform more personal tasks.
Commander Chaiyanar had less than thirty-two seasons, but had already demonstrated both his skill and his loyalty to his Uncle Shirudukh, the King of the Elamites. In the last five years alone, Chaiyanar had besieged three cities, and captured every one.
The walls of Sumer impressed him not at all. His men had surrounded the city four days ago, to make sure no one escaped, and that no reinforcements could join the defenders. After his first inspection, Chaiyanar estimated that it would take about twenty days to breach the walls and storm the city, certainly no more than thirty. Since then, nothing had caused him to change his schedule.
The spies who revealed information about Sumer, its strengths and weaknesses, had gauged it well. No unexpected surprises, no hidden defenses, no increased numbers of defenders on its walls. If the city proved as wealthy as the spies declared, Chaiyanar would use its gold to gratify his every need for the rest of his life. Sumer, King Shirudukh had promised, would be his to rule.
Meanwhile, his men, nearly sixteen thousand strong, knew what to do, and they had their orders. Some dug trenches, to protect them as they worked their way closer to the city’s defenders. Others made shields and ladders, while some sharpened digging sticks to help weaken the walls.
A siege remained a complicated affair, and Chaiyanar had no intention of simply starving Sumer into submission. That might take months, and he didn’t intend to delay the conquest of the other Sumerian cities. He inspected his men’s progress twice daily, at midday and again just before sundown. In between, he took his ease or amused himself with his slave girls.
His men had captured only eight women since they reached Sumer’s outskirts, and, following his standing order, the soldiers brought all of them to him first, so he could choose however many he wanted for himself. This time he had selected two. One had long blond tresses, a rarity among his own people.
She had proved most satisfactory last night and again this morning. Now she waited at his feet, to bring him food or wine or anything else he needed. Later he would have her suck his rod while he watched his soldiers sweating under the fierce Sumerian sun.
A hundred paces away, his senior commanders had set up three tables, where they issued orders and resolved the usual problems with any siege. The commanders went about their business quietly, so as not to disturb their general. He’d made it clear to them years ago that he did not want to hear the endless details of every decision as the siege progressed.
Chaiyanar sipped wine and contemplated his future city. He would have to rename it in honor of his uncle. But aside from that courtesy, the city and lands of Sumer would belong to him and his descendants for all time, a generous gift from King Shirudukh. No doubt Chaiyanar would have to return to Sushan yearly, to prostrate himself before the king and renew his oaths of fealty, but that minor inconvenience could be borne.
He took another sip of the well-watered wine, then reached down and stroked the girl’s blond tresses, before tightening his grip on her hair and twisting her head so he could see her eyes, wide with the pain. Chaiyanar enjoyed hurting his concubines, watching their expressions change when he inflicted pain on their bodies.
The fact that they dared not resist or even protest made their suffering all the more pleasant. Yes, soon it would be time for her to pleasure him again.
One of his commanders walked over and bowed, keeping his head down until given permission to speak.
“What is it?” Chaiyanar didn’t bother to conceal his irritation. Interruptions always meant some kind of trouble.
The commander lifted his head, and shifted position to face his general. “My Lord, one of our sentries just returned. He reports a force of cavalry approaching from the south.” He raised his arm and pointed. “You can just see them from here.”
Chaiyanar frowned. He had all the men he needed, and wasn’t expecting any reinforcements. He’d led the last troop of cavalry up to Sumer’s walls himself, after joining them at the beach. Setting down his cup, he stood, lifted his head, and gazed toward the south. Yes, Chaiyanar saw the soldiers, a long column, moving slowly up the road. Two pennants flew behind the lead horsemen.
The approaching riders certainly were not hostile. No enemy force would travel at such a plodding pace. It was possible that King Shirudukh, at the last moment, had diverted some more forces away from Lord Modran or General Jedidia, and dispatched them toward Sumer. Nevertheless, it did seem odd that no messenger had brought word of such action.
“I think I recognize the red pennant, my Lord. It’s the emblem of Sushan.”
The line of men continued to grow, the men leading the column now less than a mile away. The end, however, remained out of sight. Then a shift of the wind turned the pennant broadside, and Chaiyanar indeed recognized the familiar emblem of the port city of Sushan. He frowned again, and wondered if his uncle had decided to burden him with another general.
“Send a rider out to see who they are,” Chaiyanar ordered. “Tell their commander to report to me at once.”
He slipped back into his chair, picked up his cup, and drained it in his annoyance. Still, the additional cavalry might prove useful. He could extend his patrols halfway to Akkad. With so many extra men, perhaps the siege could be shortened.
“It’s working.” Hathor kept his voice low, though there was no need.
“They’ve seen us.” Naxos, too, tried to conceal his excitement. “Look, a rider is coming our way.”
“Better a messenger than a call to battle.”
Naxos laughed. “It’s too late for that, I think.”
Hathor glanced around. They had nearly reached the outskirts of the Elamites’ camp. Any farther, and they would be too close for an effective charge. “Then perhaps you should give the order, King Naxos.”
“Good hunting to you, Hathor of Akkad.” Naxos twisted on his horse. “Strike those pennants, and sound the charge.”
A grinning soldier a few ranks back took a deep breath and raised a ram’s horn to his lips. A moment later, the deep boom of the horn floated over the land.
Naxos didn’t wait for the sound to end. “Attack! Attack!” He kicked his horse forward, drawing his sword at the same time.
The city of Sumer possessed four gates, all hastily reinforced in preparation for the Elamite siege. The largest, used by the majority of traders, farmers, and visitors, faced the east. Atop the wall beside the Eastern G
ate, Jarud, Commander of Sumer’s Guard, stood beside King Gemama.
The height of the wall gave them an excellent view of the rolling farmlands that surrounded the city. Jarud had ordered the destruction of every dwelling within two miles. Both Jarud and Gemama could clearly see the billowing awning that covered General Chaiyanar’s head, and even the naked girl kneeling at his feet.
Now, however, they ignored the thousands of soldiers who ringed Sumer. Instead, they stared with dread at yet another column of horsemen approaching from the south.
A moment ago, King Gemama and Jarud had cursed their luck at the arrival of still more invaders. The besieging forces already surrounding Sumer were daunting enough. Then the lowing call of the ram’s horn changed everything. The pennants vanished, tossed aside as the men urged their horses to a gallop. Weapons suddenly glinted in the bright sunlight.
For a moment, Jarud stared in shock at the wave of horsemen bearing down on the Elamites. Then he heard the war cries of Akkad and Isin rising over the pounding of the horses’ hooves. Comprehension came. “By every demon burning below, I didn’t think they’d get here this soon!” He clapped Gemama on the shoulder, a blow strong enough to knock the breath from the King’s portly body.
Gemama scarcely noticed. “Thank the gods! Look at the Elamites!”
Just out of range of Sumer’s defenders, the enemy host had surrounded Sumer’s walls, except for the narrow stretch along the river. Since their arrival, the Elamite soldiers had stacked their weapons for the eventual attack. Then they joined the hundreds of laborers, those skilled in digging and building platforms, all working together to prepare for the assault.
Now those soldiers and workers on the southern side of the city rushed about in panic, searching for their weapons, as an irresistible river of fierce horsemen engulfed them.
Realization of what was happening swept along the walls. The defenders erupted in cheers, their mood shifting from despair and gloom in an instant.