by Sam Barone
As Eskkar saw it, that left Ninazu with only one other course of action-attack the Akkadians before the reinforcements arrived, overwhelm them, and take their weapons. Faced with such a defeat, the supposed reinforcements might turn back. At the least, Ninazu would be no worse off than he was now. A victory might even give his men the courage and resolve to resist another group of besiegers.
The rider had come from Akkad only yesterday, and it would be dark before news of the “reinforcements” reached Bisitun. It wasn’t likely Ninazu could get his men ready on such short notice to attempt anything tonight. Eskkar intended to keep the pressure on Ninazu, to continue forcing him to react as Eskkar wanted. Tonight, the next step of the plan would begin, the one that would draw the noose around Ninazu even tighter.
6
As the afternoon waned, Eskkar met with his commanders and the fifteen men chosen for the initial raid. They’d had to wait until all the farmers moved well away from the camp. The carefully selected soldiers received their instructions, and Eskkar used the few hours before darkness to make sure Sisuthros and the men knew exactly what to do. Only after Eskkar felt satisfied did they gather around the campfire for the evening meal.
Nevertheless, Eskkar kept reviewing the details of the attack during dinner, speaking to each man, making sure each knew his assignment. Finally even Eskkar could find nothing wrong. He went off by himself, to try and get some sleep, leaving word to wake him when the men were ready.
Sleep came slowly. Eskkar had never sent men out on a raid before, had never delegated such a command to another. Always he had led sorties like this himself. To send others out into danger while he remained safe in camp seemed unmanly. But he knew that he couldn’t risk his own life on such a small raid, just as he knew Sisuthros could easily direct the men.
At midnight, Grond woke Eskkar from a restless sleep. Sisuthros and his men stood ready, each standing by his horse. Eskkar gripped Sisuthros by the shoulder, then stood aside as his subcommander led the first two of his men out of the camp. The rest of the soldiers left, two at a time, after a slow count to one hundred, so that the horses wouldn’t get nervous in the darkness and begin whinnying, or making sounds that might alert any keen ears in Bisitun. Eskkar knew horses could do strange things at night, spooking at some shadow, the moon, or even a breeze.
Each man would walk his horse a full half mile before mounting and waiting for the rest of the men to join up. When all the riders assembled, they would pace their horses at a slow step for another mile before turning north.
The last of them disappeared from sight, and nothing remained for Eskkar to do except wait. He didn’t expect Ninazu to launch an attack tonight, but Eskkar wanted his remaining men alert and ready just in case.
The moon had risen late and progressed steadily across the starry sky.
The scouts stationed between the camp and the village came in at regular intervals, all reporting no activity from Bisitun’s defenders. Eskkar paced back and forth, checking with the men as he went, urging them to stay vigilant. Time seemed to slow the moon’s journey across the night, and he thought morning would never come.
A few moments before dawn, the sound of hoofbeats came from the south. Though expected, the sentries gave the challenge. Sisuthros called out his name in a loud voice, though the approaching horses slowed to a walk a hundred paces from the camp. Eskkar gave the word, and soldiers lit torches that revealed a smiling Sisuthros leading his horse back into the encampment.
As Sisuthros and the others passed in, Eskkar grasped him by the arm and pulled him aside. “Did it go well? We heard nothing from here.”
Sisuthros’s grin turned into a laugh. “Yes, Captain, it went well. They never heard a thing. If we had more men, we could have forced our way in by the river. I’ll wager they don’t notice anything until well after sunup.”
“You mean they saw nothing? And the men? All went according to plan?” By now, everyone pressed round Sisuthros and his band, who came in laughing and swaggering, pleased with themselves and the ease of their mission. “Tell us what happened.”
“We walked the horses, until we were out of earshot, then rode to the northern part of the river.” Men jostled each other to hear Sisuthros’s words, every one eager to learn about the first action against Bisitun. “I sent the rest of the riders, with all the horses, downstream of the village, telling them to swing wide of the encampment. My men and I boarded the boats with no problems.”
The scouts had found a farm a few miles upriver that possessed two small boats, probably used mainly for fishing, but each large enough to carry a few men. No doubt by now the puzzled farmer wondered who had stolen his vessels.
“We let the boats drift downstream,” Sisuthros went on. “Just before we reached Bisitun, four men from each boat slipped into the water and clung to the boat’s sides.”
Sisuthros had chosen only strong swimmers for this raid, men who stood ready to trust themselves to the river’s current to carry them to safety, if need be.
“We drifted in among the vessels at the rear of the village,” Sisuthros continued. “We untied or cut the ropes mooring all the boats there, and shoved them well out into the current. It didn’t take long, and we stood by in the boats to carry the men off as soon as someone raised the alarm.”
“We heard no outcry here, Sisuthros,” Eskkar said.
“No one gave the alarm. We could see guards walking the palisade, but they noticed nothing, and no one raised a cry. The sound of the river must have muffled the noise.”
“The guards were that lax in their duties?” Eskkar couldn’t believe it.
“They never saw you at all?”
“No. We made certain the current took all the boats downstream.
Then, with our men again clinging to the sides of their boats, we followed, making sure none of the boats had grounded. A mile downriver, we found our men and horses waiting, and rode back.”
“Well done, Sisuthros! You’re sure you cut all the boats loose?”
“Every one. We gave the river gods many offerings, for whatever gods and fortunate farmers live downstream!”
Everyone laughed. Sisuthros had to repeat his story in more detail, his men adding their own actions. By the time he finished, the torches had gone out, and the sun climbed above the horizon in the eastern sky.
Eskkar, a smile on his face for the first time in many hours, ordered the men to get some food and rest, while he sat atop the rampart and watched the village.
So far, the plan that he had fi rst sketched out in his mind back in Dilgarth continued to progress smoothly. When he’d learned the size of Ninazu’s force, he had known that, even though he could probably take the village by direct assault, he would lose far too many men in the process.
No, he knew he needed to capture Bisitun quickly, and with a minimum of casualties to his valuable men. Besides, he needed the village and its inhabitants as intact as possible. Now, in less than two days and thanks to Sisuthros’s well-executed raid, Eskkar had bottled Ninazu’s men in the village.
Now the next part of the plan would begin. Ninazu and his men would have plenty to worry about. They’d seen firsthand that they faced a disciplined force, real soldiers who could throw up a fortified camp in less than a day. The threat of reinforcements coming soon would make some of them think about moving on.
With all the boats gone, Ninazu’s quick escape across the river would be greatly reduced. At this time of the year, a strong horse, ridden by a good rider who could swim himself if necessary, might make it across. But that rider couldn’t carry much loot, and Eskkar was willing to wager that if ten good men attempted it, three or four would likely drown.
So Ninazu would have to fight or run, before his own men began to slip away. Not that Eskkar wanted them to run. He didn’t want them plundering up and down the river for the next few weeks, with his Akkadians wasting their days in pursuit. He wanted most of the bandits dead, and the rest as slave labor to rebuild Bisitun.
The village shone in the morning light, as the sun moved ever higher in the sky, and Eskkar fancied he saw fewer defenders than yesterday. Everyone inside Bisitun would know about the loss of the boats, and worry, if not fear or panic, would start taking its toll. Some would be thinking about escape. The more they thought about escaping, the less willing they would be to fight. Eskkar decided to apply more pressure.
He turned back to the encampment and found Grond waiting there, a few steps behind him. “Grond, get the men on their horses. Send ten riders and ten archers to each side of the encampment. If any in the village want to make a run for it, make sure they have to fight their way out. I don’t want anyone going in or out of Bisitun.”
Grond relayed the orders to Hamati and the other men. It took only a few minutes to get the forty men chosen something to eat, and send them on their way. When they reached their positions, each detachment would block any escape attempt by anyone, on foot or mounted, to pass through Bisitun’s back gate, and follow the river to safety.
Of course if the defenders came out in strength on either side, then the situation would change. But they talked about even that possibility.
While the full force of the bandits could certainly ride through twenty men, it might take some time, and with enough time, the rest of the Akkadians from the main camp might catch them with their backs against the river.
What Eskkar thought more likely was that a hundred men would burst out of the front gate, and attempt to ride right through, or around, the encampment. He now had only thirty-two fighting men, plus the scribes, boys, and liverymen remaining to defend the camp. Eskkar had stretched his forces very thin, but he needed to act as if he had the upper hand. As soon as the men in the camp finished their meal, he had them ready their weapons and stand to their posts. With his men in place, he returned to the embankment and watched the palisade.
Once again, the man with the silver bracelets stood there, studying the Akkadians, and undoubtedly making plans of his own. Nevertheless, the loss of Ninazu’s boats changed the situation, and now the ground outside the palisade, with its tumbled-down houses, worked to Eskkar’s advantage.
Men on horseback would only have a clear path directly down the main road, which would send them straight at the encampment, or along the river’s edge, where they would encounter archers and mounted men. Ninazu would see all this, as could his men, and they would begin to worry.
For days Ninazu had assured his men that they could easily fight off Eskkar’s small force from behind the palisade. Instead, the bandits could see a hard fight ahead of them if they tried to escape. Moreover, the worst worry of all would be knowing that, in two or three days, another strong force would reinforce the attackers.
Grond returned to join him. “All the men are in position, Captain.
Sisuthros and Hamati are getting some sleep, but the rest of the men are resting at their posts.”
“Watch the walls, Grond. If they all decide to run for it, the guards on the palisade will slowly be replaced by villagers. They’ll be nervous and frightened. That might give us warning.”
“Do you think they’ll run?”
Eskkar thought about that. “His brother was brave enough. I don’t think Ninazu will give up Bisitun without a fight. Besides, he sees us splitting our force, and that will make him wonder what we will do when night falls. If he thinks that we’ve weakened our force here, he may fall into our trap.” Once again, Eskkar went though the thought process. “I still think he will come tonight, with a large force, right at our camp.”
He faced his bodyguard, who still stood there, doubt still written on his face. “I know, Grond, I have my own doubts. But if he does nothing, and another hundred men appear, he’ll be trapped. His men will run if he does nothing.” Eskkar shrugged. “Well, that’s what I would do. But I am not him, so we’ll have to wait and see.”
“Are you sure that we can withstand them, if he sends everyone against us?”
“These are bandits, Grond, not Alur Meriki warriors. They have no clan or family to fight for, no code of bravery to sustain them. They are held together only by their lust for gold. If thirty of us cannot break them…” He shook his head and headed back to the rear of the camp.
The daylight hours dragged by, one by one, with Eskkar pacing back and forth. The camp had to appear no different from the day before, so all the regular activities continued. Men stood to their watches, cooking fires sent smoke into the sky, and anyone not standing guard relaxed on the embankment, watching the village.
The detachments on either side of Bisitun reported in, but they saw no sign of anyone trying to cross the river or escape along its banks.
Sisuthros, after he had taken his rest, declared that to be a good sign-if they weren’t trying to run, then they would be ready to fight.
As the afternoon began to lengthen, Eskkar, Sisuthros, Hamati, and Grond met once again, and began to prepare for the night’s work. They went over everything for almost two hours, thinking of what could go wrong, what evil chance could upset their plans, what they would do if the plan failed, and even what they would do if they were beaten.
The soldiers started the evening fires and prepared their meal before Eskkar and his subcommanders finished. At least the men continued eating well, thanks to his largess with the local farmers. With dinner finished, Eskkar and his commanders met with the other senior men. The thirty men in the camp would be at the greatest risk, and Eskkar wanted them to know exactly what he expected of them. Each of the subcommanders went over it yet again, this time with their men.
Eskkar watched, looking for signs of confusion, but saw nothing but confidence. No one showed any fear, or doubted their ability to beat off an attack. The men believed in him, believed in his luck if nothing else. At last, it was time to go. “Take care, Sisuthros. And good hunting to all of us.”
Grond had made all the preparations, and he and Eskkar slipped out of the camp. They took their time moving across the dark landscape, swinging wide to their rear, lest some chance fl ash of moonlight revealed them to any sharp-eyed guards on the village palisade. Eskkar didn’t want to trip and sprain an ankle in the darkness. Finally, they joined up with the men who guarded the southern edge of the river.
The small camp had only a single fire burning in front of it, lighting the darkness between it and the village. The men sat well back from the firelight, waiting for Eskkar to arrive. They’d spent the afternoon practicing their archery, the same as they had done every day before and during the siege of Akkad, and talking over what situations they would likely encounter and how they would respond. Every one of these bowmen could loose a properly aimed arrow every three seconds, and some even faster.
Now they waited, confident in the skills and in their leaders.
Grond had briefed them earlier in the day, but as soon as Eskkar joined them, they checked their preparations again. These men were eager, anxious to go on the offensive, and ready to take their chances. Five of them were already Hawk Clan members and another seven, mostly experienced fighters, looked to prove themselves worthy of such an honor.
Mitrac waited there, leaning on his bow, next to the two men he had considered his best archers, both men who had fought beside Hamati at Dilgarth. Even Eskkar felt satisfied that everyone knew what to do.
Midnight passed without event. Eskkar could do nothing to make the time pass faster, not even pace around. If Ninazu’s attack came, it would likely be when the moon began to set, about two hours before dawn. Too excited and nervous to rest or sleep, Eskkar and his men just waited. Most of them lay on their backs and watched the silver orb slowly cross the night sky. At last the moon began to fade. The time had arrived.
Eskkar sat on the ground, drumming his fingers against his leg, a bad habit he had picked up during the siege of Akkad. He didn’t like anyone knowing he felt nervous, and he stopped the motion the moment he became conscious of it. Except for the faint crackling of the fire, Eskkar could hear noth
ing. Another hour crept by, and still he heard no sign of any activity. He wanted to start moving, but he didn’t dare take the chance.
Any unusual sound might stop Ninazu’s attack. If Ninazu even did plan to attack tonight, it should have come by now.
His doubts growing every moment, Eskkar had just decided that he had guessed wrong when a shout went up from the Akkadians’ main encampment. A moment later someone hurled a torch into the sky, Sisuthros’s signal an attack had begun. Shouts drifted across the black ground.
Without any commands, Eskkar and his men started to advance, trying to make as little noise as possible. They swung wide around their small fire.
In single file, they moved rapidly toward the southern corner of the village, each man following the man ahead of him. Mitrac led the way. He’d studied the ground during the day, and now Eskkar and the others followed him. Behind Mitrac strode his two picked archers, trailed by Eskkar, Grond, and the rest of the men.
Time moved quickly, and they soon drew close to the village, where it came closest to the river. When Mitrac stopped, less than a hundred paces separated them from the palisade. They crouched among the rubble, and hoped no one watched this side of the village too closely. Mitrac and his chosen archers disappeared into the darkness.
Sound continued to drift in from the front of the village, though Eskkar couldn’t tell what any of it meant. For all he knew, his men in the camp had been overrun and slaughtered, or they had already driven back Ninazu’s men. Whatever the result, Eskkar was committed, and they hadn’t much time. He hoped any sentries watching this side of the village would be lax, their attention focused on events happening in front of the main gate.