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Clash Of Empires (The Eskkar Saga)

Page 39

by Sam Barone


  Once in control of the city, he would kill every soldier, every able bodied man left alive. No matter how many of his men died in the attempt, he intended to capture Sumer today, before night fell. His commanders had already learned the price they would pay for any failure – they would be executed.

  He sipped from his wine cup, as he watched his men’s progress. Yes, today would be the day.

  From Sumer’s wall, Jarud and King Gemama observed the same progress. They kept their expressions under control, not wanting to send any discouraging signals to their men. But both knew another attack appeared imminent.

  Yesterday’s onslaught had nearly taken the city. Almost five hundred irreplaceable defenders, archers and fighting men, had died holding off the Elamites. Many leaders of ten and twenty had died as well. Neither the King nor his Captain of the Guard felt certain they could hold off another assault.

  “When will they come?” King Gemama’s voice held more than a trace of resignation.

  “No later than midafternoon.” Jarud’s flat voice showed no emotion, even though his favorite nephew, Jaruman, had taken an arrow in the eye during yesterday’s fighting. Having no son of his own, Jarud had raised the boy when his brother died, treating Jaruman as if he were his own son. “The Elamites will try to get as close as they can before they rush us. But they’ll want enough daylight remaining to finish off any resistance.”

  “We can move all of our men to this section,” Gemama said. “We should be able to drive them back.”

  “Today they’ll attack in at least two key places, perhaps three,” Jarud said. “We’ll move men around, but we may not have enough soldiers to stop two or three attacks at the same time. Chaiyanar’s commanders will be probing other spots as well. If they see any sections unguarded, they’ll attack those points, too.”

  “What can we do?” The King sounded resigned.

  “We fight. Better to die fighting than be slaughtered like cattle, or turned into slaves. Besides we’re . . .”

  “Gemama! Aren’t you going to welcome me to your city?”

  Jarud and Gemama turned to see Yavtar on the rampart, striding toward them, a big grin on his face.

  Astonished at Yavtar’s presence, Gemama forgot his dignity and threw his arms around his old friend. “Yavtar! How did you get here? Did you . . .”

  “My boat just docked. Your men were kind enough to open the river gate for me. I was nearby, and thought I’d pay you a visit.” Yavtar nodded to Jarud. “I’m glad to see you’re both alive.”

  “Perhaps not for long, Master Trader,” Jarud said, though he, too, had a smile on his face. Stories about Yavtar appearing here and vanishing there abounded. Many thought the wily boat master had sold his spirit to the river demons, who transported him wherever he wished in the dead of night. All the same, Eskkar’s Master of Boats, never went anywhere by chance. “The Elamites are readying another assault.”

  “Well, you’ll have to hold them off a little longer,” Yavtar said. “I didn’t risk coming here in daylight just so I could pick up a sword. And I don’t intend to be taken prisoner.”

  “You should leave as soon as you can, Yavtar,” Gemama said. “You may not get another chance.”

  Yavtar chuckled. “Too late, my friend. By now my boat has already unloaded its supplies and departed for the north.”

  “Then you’re trapped here with us,” Gemama said, a sigh of sadness escaping his lips.

  The Akkadian trader glanced out over the wall. “I see that Chaiyanar is readying his men for another attack. That’s good.”

  “Good? Are you mad? We barely drove them back yesterday.” Gemama’s high pitched voice broke at the end.

  “So what news do you bring, Master Trader?” Unlike Sumer’s King, Jarud’s voice held no emotion.

  “Well, it seems Chaiyanar hasn’t yet learned that his cavalry has suffered a great defeat two days ago. Those of Simaski’s forces who survived are scattered to the northwest. Meanwhile, Hathor and Naxos are on their way here.”

  “What’s happened?” Jarud grasped Yavtar’s shoulder. “Is the Elamite cavalry destroyed?”

  Yavtar shrugged. “Hard to say for sure, but definitely dispersed and defeated, according to Hathor. Apparently he and Naxos surprised the Elamites, caught them still asleep at sunrise the day before yesterday. Naxos claims they slaughtered more than half the enemy, captured most of their horses, and broke the rest.”

  “Are you certain they’re coming here?” Gemama couldn’t keep the excitement from his voice. “Can they get here in time?”

  “Well, that’s what the bloodthirsty Naxos said last night. He said they would be riding at dawn, and should be here sometime after midday. He and Hathor wanted you to be well prepared. So I took ship just before midnight. We sailed throughout the night, and now I’m here to watch the battle. Hopefully Hathor’s cavalry will arrive in time.”

  Near Sumer, the wide span of the Tigris meant that boats could move without interference from troops on shore. A fast-moving boat driven by ten or twelve strong rowers could navigate the river by day or night with equal ease.

  During daylight hours the vessels stayed in the center of the channel, safely away from the reach of the Elamites. That ability let them far outrange cavalry, which needed to stop and rest the horses.

  Jarud gripped the grinning Yavtar by his arms. “By the gods, that’s what we needed to hear!” He turned to Gemama. “I’ll spread the word to our men. Knowing that help is on the way will make them fight harder. We’ll hold out until Hathor arrives. Meanwhile, I think we’ll prepare a few surprises for the Elamites.”

  “Before you rush off, I’ve brought you some reinforcements.” Yavtar turned and gestured to a man standing a few paces away. He wore a bow slung across his back and a fat quiver of arrows hung from his hip. “This is Sabatu. He’s been trying to get here for the last few days, but his boat ran aground and he had to turn back. He’s here to fight against Chaiyanar.”

  “King Gemama, Lord Jarud.” Sabatu stepped forward and bowed low at the introduction.

  “Sabatu knows how to command men,” Yavtar offered, putting his hand on Sabatu’s shoulder. “I promise you, he knows how to use that bow. If you need someone to help lead the fight, you can rely on him.”

  “Every man is doubly welcome.” King Gemama’s voice carried his appreciation.

  “My nephew was killed yesterday,” Jarud said. “He commanded twenty archers at the main point of attack. More than half his men died or took wounds. They could use someone to lead them who can use a bow.”

  “Then I place myself in your service, Lord Jarud.” Sabatu nodded to Yavtar. “Again, my thanks to you for getting me here.”

  “Come with me, Sabatu. We’ve got work to do.” Jarud dashed off, racing down the steps and calling for his subcommanders, Sabatu trailing behind.

  “Yavtar, you’ve saved us all.” Gemama took a deep breath. “I thought I’d be dead by nightfall. But what of Eskkar and Akkad? Do you have any news?”

  “Not much. Two days ago I learned Engineer Alcinor managed to close the Jkarian Pass, so that should keep the Elamites out of the northern territories for a while longer. Other than that – by now Eskkar and Lord Modran are probably locked in battle in the Dellen Pass.”

  Both men knew that if Akkad fell, sooner or later, Sumer and Isin would be taken as well.

  Yavtar again glanced over the wall, taking his time to study the enemy’s positions. “Not many guards to the north, and less than a thousand cavalry riding patrol, I’d guess. Most of those well south of Sumer and the rest dispersed.” He shook his head. “You think Chaiyanar would have learned his lesson. It’s his Elamites who are about to be caught between your walls and Hathor’s cavalry.”

  “I pray to the gods that Hathor’s men aren’t held up,” Gemama declared.

  “I thought you didn’t believe in the gods.”

  “Today, Yavtar, today I believe in all of them, even the most foolish. I’ve sworn an oath to sa
crifice an entire goat to each and every one.”

  “I didn’t think you had a whole herd of goats in the city.”

  “I’ll buy twenty from the first goat herder who comes back to Sumer.” He took a deep breath and let it out. “May we all live through the rest of the day.”

  “If we do,” Yavtar said, “I’ll sacrifice a goat, too. Only one, though.”

  Chapter 34

  Inside the City of Sumer . . .

  Sabatu had participated in two sieges in his lifetime, and in both instances the armies of Elam had overwhelmed the hapless defenders in less than ten days. He recalled the confusion behind the walls during those assaults, but that was as nothing compared to the noise and turmoil he now experienced within Sumer’s walls. Fearful men and women wandered around, crowding the lanes. Children dashed about, babies cried, and the occasional dog barked, all adding to the tension in the air.

  Following his new commander, Sabatu trailed behind Jarud, the Captain of Sumer’s Guard and the man in charge of the city’s defenses. Jarud ignored the chaos, barreling his way through the throngs, shouting orders as he went. Sabatu, trying to keep pace, had nearly tumbled down the steep steps that led from the battlement to the ground, and then almost lost Jarud in the crowd. By the time they reached the main gate, Jarud had collected two subcommanders, who jogged alongside. Sabatu found himself breathing hard.

  The commander of the gate, his left arm in a sling, stood on a small platform before Sumer’s main entrance. Two young boys, perhaps ten or eleven seasons, stood beside him. Both had red strips of cloth wound around an arm – official messengers.

  “Bila!” Jarud shouted even before he reached the injured man’s side, “all of you! We just received word that Hathor and Naxos have defeated Chaiyanar’s cavalry and are on their way to Sumer. They’ll be here before sundown. We’ll have to hold off the Elamites when they attack until the Akkadians arrive. Then we’ll break the siege and finish off Chaiyanar!”

  The cloud of gloom that hung over the men’s faces vanished at the news. Bila, the commander of the main gate’s defense, appeared stunned. “Are you sure, Captain Jarud? How did you find out?”

  “Yavtar brought a boat in. This man,” Jarud jabbed his finger at Sabatu, “arrived with him. Tell them what message Yavtar carried.”

  “It’s true,” Sabatu said. “The Elamite cavalry under Simaski was defeated and scattered two mornings ago, about ninety miles to the northwest. Lord Hathor and King Naxos – he killed Simaski himself – are on their way here. Yavtar and I met up with them last night. They . . .”

  “That’s enough, Sabatu.” Jarud had no interest in hearing the details. “You can tell them the rest later. Bila, you’ll have to hold the gate until Naxos and Hathor arrive no matter what. And I want your men prepared for a sortie. If we move fast enough, we may be able to catch Chaiyanar between our forces.”

  Jarud spun on his heel and started off, then realized he’d forgotten Sabatu. “Bila, put Sabatu in charge of Jaruman’s men.” Then he was gone, vanishing into the swarm of people hanging about. A few started to cheer at the news.

  “All right, get our men ready,” Bila ordered, speaking to the two subcommanders Jarud had brought with him. “Sabatu, come with me. I’ll give you your men and show you where to stand. I hope you can use that bow.”

  Bila’s expression as he took in Sabatu’s hands revealed his doubts. But following orders, Bila led Sabatu up the steps beside the main gate, to the left side of the parapet. “Here’s your new commander.” Bila turned and rushed back down the steps.

  Sabatu found himself facing eleven men, all of them slumped against the parapet. A few had wounds wrapped with dirty bandages spotted with blood. They looked weary, and they stared at their new commander with indifferent eyes. Sabatu took a deep breath. He recognized all the signs of lax discipline. Well, he’d dealt with that before.

  “On your feet, all of you.”

  No one moved. One man shrugged. “We’ll get up when the Elamites come.”

  Sabatu smiled. There wasn’t much room atop the parapet, but he took a single step closer. At the same time he whipped the bow from his back, and using plenty of muscle, rammed it into the man’s stomach.

  A regular bow might have snapped from such a thrust, but the hard wood and extra width of Sabatu’s weapon withstood the stroke easily.

  The man, taken by surprise, gasped in pain.

  “Get him up. Now!” He swept the bow through the air with a humming sound. “When I give you an order, you’ll obey it, or I’ll put a shaft into the next man that doesn’t.”

  To emphasize that he meant what he said, Sabatu jerked an arrow from his quiver. With speed that would have impressed any of Akkad’s master bowmen, he nocked the arrow and launched it, seemingly without aiming.

  The missile traveled less than ten paces, and buried itself into the wood of a pole that held one of Sumer’s standards.

  With a rush, the startled men climbed to their feet, two of them dragging upright the one who’d felt Sabatu’s bow in his belly.

  “First, I’ll tell you the good news.” Sabatu told them of Yavtar’s meeting with the Akkadians, and that their cavalry were on the way even now. The men shook off their lethargy in an instant. Cheers erupted, to join with those already arising from the mass of people below the gate, as they, too, received the news and spread the word.

  “Now for the bad,” Sabatu said, after he’d given them a few moments. “Chaiyanar and his men are coming, and they’re coming with everything they’ve got. It’s our job to make sure they don’t take this gate, and a lot of us are probably going to die holding them off. But if they get over the walls, every man they don’t want as a slave will be slaughtered. Those allowed to live,” he lifted both his hands, to show them where his thumbs had been broken, “will never hold a weapon again.”

  It took a moment for his words to sink in, that Sabatu had faced Elamite torture and survived, and that he’d somehow managed to become a commander and a master bowman. His arrow, still protruding from the pole, attested to his words.

  “But there’s more,” Sabatu went on, striding up and down before his new charges. “As soon as the Akkadians get here, Captain of the Guard Jarud wants Bila and his men to open the gate, and attack Chaiyanar’s soldiers. Jarud wants to take them from the rear. More important, you men are going to see to it that I’m the first man through this gate. I’ve got something to settle with Grand Commander Chaiyanar, and I don’t want to miss the chance to greet him. If any of you want to follow me, I’ll make sure you receive five silver coins. And if . . .”

  “Make it ten, and I’ll follow you anywhere.”

  Sabatu grinned at the speaker, a short, swarthy man with the long, ropy arms that made for a good bowman. “What’s your name?”

  “My name is Hurin of Uruk, Commander.” He picked up his bow. “And I can shoot as good as you. Want to see?”

  “Later, perhaps, Hurin from Uruk.” Sabatu couldn’t keep the smile from his face. “All right, it’s ten silver coins, even if I have to borrow them. Now shut up and listen. It’s better if you know everything.”

  When Sabatu finished, smiles covered most of their faces. Every one of them had lost friends and kin during the siege. More than a few wanted a chance to revenge themselves on the hated Elamites. If there were some coins to be earned in the process, so much the better.

  “Good! Now let’s make sure we’re ready for them when they come.”

  Chapter 35

  Grand Commander Chaiyanar, after stepping onto the back of one of his kneeling clerks, mounted his warhorse. A bronze breastplate covered his chest, and a red-plumed helmet of the same material protected his head. A short sword forged by the master sword-makers of the Indus hung from his waist.

  A glance at the sky brought a frown to his face – the sun had already marked the midpoint of the afternoon. All the same, the well-planned assault on Sumer was about to begin, and Chaiyanar knew that many decisions would need to be
made during the attack. He would direct the final charge himself, the one that would swamp the defenders and sweep them from the northern wall and main gate.

  The first foray, however, would come on the eastern wall, another weak point that his men had identified. Two thousand soldiers, backed by eight hundred archers, would attack there. The Elamite trenches had snaked their way close to that wall, too, and it was very possible Sumer’s defenses might be breached there as well.

  Meanwhile, a second and smaller Elamite force would launch another thrust at the southernmost section of Sumer’s defenses. A thousand men and two hundred bowmen would try to overwhelm the southern wall, or at least draw off as many of the defenders as possible.

  Once those attacks had begun, Chaiyanar would fling the remainder, and by far the largest portion, of his assault forces at the north wall and Sumer’s main entrance. Under his direct command three thousand men, backed by fifteen hundred bowmen and all the support troops, would attack a strip of wall barely a hundred paces wide. Chaiyanar felt certain his men could overcome the defenses there.

  The western side of the city, that closest to the Tigris, would be ignored. The narrow land gap between the river and the walls made it too difficult to marshal enough men to try an attack.

  His remaining cavalry, less than a thousand men, still ringed the city. Earlier this morning, Chaiyanar had dispatched most of them, over five hundred, to guard the southern approach. He wanted plenty of warning in case the Akkadians once again tried to sneak up on his army from that direction.

  The Elamite horsemen also had orders to make sure no one got out of the city by land or river. The Sumerians had at least twenty boats nestled along the docks, and Chaiyanar wanted to make sure no rich merchants or any of the city’s leaders made their escape that way.

  He had learned of the destruction of the supply cove only yesterday. The loss of the beachhead and the disruption of supplies from Sushan hit Chaiyanar hard. He’d never expected to find an enemy behind him, nor to have his link with Elam cut. But that no longer mattered now. Once he had Sumer under his grip, the supplies could come up river direct to the city’s docks.

 

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