by H A CULLEY
He was about to enter the audience hall with a fierce scowl on his face but, just in time, realised that both his father and Arishaka would tell him that he was being petty minded and self-indulgent. He had been sent here to help Narem-Suen and his people, not turn them into enemies. As the doors opened he adopted a more neutral face then, when he saw his old friend get up and walk to meet him with a broad grin on his face, he smiled genuinely in return and the two youths embraced briefly before the king turned and introduced him to his queen.
Huchithrâ got up from her chair with difficulty. She was in the latter stage of pregnancy and, after making his bow and greeting her politely, he congratulated the couple and turned to Narem-Suen to ask with a broad smile when the baby was expected.
‘The lazy little bugger is overdue; really Huchithrâ should be in bed but she wanted to meet you.’ Just as he finished speaking his wife gave a little cry and sat down heavily on her throne. Immediately the chamberlain clapped his hands and four men ran in with a stretcher and the queen was whisked away to her rooms.
‘It seems that your arrival was a good omen.’ Narem-Suen tried to be nonchalant but Mutu-Namaha detected deep anxiety underneath the surface.
‘You really love her don’t you?’
‘Is it that obvious? Yes, I do. It was a marriage of convenience so I could become king here but we have grown very fond of one another.’
‘You have more important things on your mind; I’ll take my leave, if I may. I need to see Es-Nasir before he leaves in any case.’
Shortly after Es-Nasir left for Babylon to join the army preparing to march against Sumeria, Huchithrâ gave birth to a daughter. However, the joy was short lived as the baby sickened and died after five days. The queen was distraught and Narem-Suen spent as much time as he could spare comforting her. Mutu-Namaha was therefore left to his own devices.
Once he had got to know his captains better and satisfied himself that the training of the new Hiritum army was going well, he decided to go out with a patrol into the hinterland on the other side of the Tigris. Es-Nasir had instigated these to keep an eye on the Eshnunnans when he had been in command and Mutu-Namaha had continued them. Narem-Suen was uncomfortable with the patrols as they violated territory that was disputed between Hiritum and Eshnunna, but he reluctantly allowed them as he acknowledged the need for warning of any surprise attack.
He took fifty camel archers and ten horsemen with him. He preferred horses to camels, which he considered to be smelly, vicious beasts whose rolling gait tended to make him feel sick after a while. They had advanced ten miles into Eshnunna when one of the horsemen, who he had thrown out as an advanced screen, came riding back at a gallop.
‘Lord, there is a large army approaching across the plain to the south. Because of the dust it was difficult to make out their numbers but the vanguard is marching ten abreast and the dust cloud is half a mile long, at least.’
Mutu-Namaha thanked him and sent him to recall the other scouts. His rough calculation, assuming that each man marching in file took up a yard, was that he was faced by an army fifteen thousand strong. Then he re-considered. Their baggage train and camp followers would take up perhaps a fifth of the column so their numbers were probably no more than twelve thousand.
Once the scouts had returned he rode forward with their leader and an escort of five camel archers so as not to kick up too much tell-tale dust. He found a suitable vantage point on a ridge overlooking the plain that led southwards towards Eshnunna and studied the approaching army. There only appeared to be one chariot, presumably for their commander, unless there were more of them further down the column. This seemed unlikely as he would want them where they could manoeuvre easily. In that case the army would be made up solely of spearmen and archers on foot. He agreed with his scout’s assessment. Their likely strength was around twelve thousand.
As he rode back to the Tigris to share this information with Narem-Suen he wondered about the Eshnunnans’ intentions. How did they plan to cross the Tigris, if indeed Hiritum was their target? They didn’t have many boats. Whilst the tributary on which the city of Eshnunna lay was a useful source of irrigation, it wasn’t a river used by trading boats. Unlike the Tigris, it was too shallow. Goods were off-loaded at one of the ports along the Tigris and then carried overland through Eshnunna by caravans.
The only ferries across the river at Hiritum were controlled by the city and the landing dock was under the city walls. In any case Narem-Suen was sure to keep them on his side of the river once he learned of the Eshnunnan army’s approach. He was still wondering what their plan could be when he arrived back and went to report to the king.
His wasn’t the only report to have reached Narem-Suen’s ears. An Assyrian merchant, who had come to Hiritum to trade, had got drunk and had been overheard boasting in a tavern that soon Hiritum would fall. He had been arrested and, under torture, he had said that it was common knowledge in Assur that King Ishme-Dagan had concluded a treaty with Sulu-Sin whereby they would join forces and take Hiritum before going on to conquer Mari. Sulu-Sin was to have Hiritum as his share of the spoils and Mari would be re-incorporated within Assyria.
Normally neither Ishme-Dagan nor Sulu-Sin would have dared to hatch such an ambitious plan and risk Babylonian reprisals, but Hammurabi was now totally committed to the conquest of Sumeria.
~#~
Es-Nasir faced a dilemma. By the time that the Sumerians realised that they had been ambushed a quarter of them were still out on the plain so Hammurabi’s plan to bottle them up in the valley was doomed to failure. The baggage train was caught halfway in and half out of the valley with perhaps ten thousand spearmen and archers of the rear-guard behind them. If he attacked with his force of just over four thousand he would be seriously outnumbered. On the other hand, if he did nothing they would escape and the trap wouldn’t be sealed, so many more of the enemy would escape as well.
He was not a man to dither so he quickly decided that he would have to rely on mobility to keep the Sumerians from getting to grips with his men. If he could keep them at a distance they might be able to both pin them down and whittle down their numbers.
He led the chariots around them and attacked from the east whilst the camel archers swept in from the south. The spearmen, archers and slingers took the nearer position to the west. Had the Sumerians been better led, they could have attacked and overwhelmed the division on foot but, instead, they huddled together, uncertain what to do, whilst their archers tried to hit the fast-moving chariots and camel archers. Then they had a stroke of luck. An arrow pierced Es-Nasir’s neck and he toppled from his chariot. Leaderless, the chariots drew off to the west to regroup.
Moments later the senior captain of the camel archers was also hit. Haban looked around for the other captain of a hundred but didn’t see him. He realised with a start that he was now in command. Telling his men to concentrate on taking out the archers, he rode over towards the chariots.
‘Who is the senior here?’
The charioteers looked around uncertainly. ‘All our officers have been killed, captain,’ one of them replied.
Haban glanced towards the enemy foot, some of whom were now trying to escape to the south east, where there was a gap between the camel archers and the group of chariots.
‘Right, you are in charge for now,’ he told the man who had spoken. ‘Take a hundred chariots and keep up the pressure on the main group and send the rest in pursuit of those who are fleeing.’
With that, Haban told Dahaka to take them back to his own men. As he arrived he noted two changes; the numbers he faced were growing as more and more Sumerians streamed back out of the valley and someone had now got the rear-guard organised. Whoever was in charge had elected to ignore the camel archers and advance on the Babylonian foot to the west. Despite the casualties the Sumerians had suffered, they still outnumbered the latter by nearly three to one.
Haban thought quickly. He needed to get the rear-guard to flee so that his foot soldi
ers could swing round and seal the exit from the valley. Then he could use the camel archers and the chariots to pursue the others. Many might escape but most would still be bottled up in the valley.
Meanwhile Arishaka was finding it hot work defending the makeshift wall at the other end of the valley. Thousand upon thousand of the enemy threw themselves at the wall, climbing onto each other’s backs to scramble up and over it. In several places they had established a bridgehead on top of the wall and the spearmen held in reserve had to be called forward to retake that length of the parapet. The archers kept sending volley after volley of arrows into the massed enemy but they seemed to be having little noticeable effect, other than to pile up bodies. The Sumerians were fighting with the fanatical zeal of the trapped.
The same situation applied all along the hills that lined the valley. The Sumerians were swarming up the slopes to be met by the Babylonian spearmen. However, the latter were better trained than their opponents and had the advantage of height. Gradually Hammurabi’s men were winning the battle for most of the hills but the Sumerians had already captured and were holding a few of the tops.
Samsu-Iluna was fighting for his life. He had already killed three men and his right arm was tiring. He had lost his spear and was defending himself with his sword and shield against three spearmen. He batted away one spear thrust with his shield and another with his sword but had to twist sideways to avoid the third, the point of which scraped across the front of his armoured vest, tearing away several of bronze scales sewn onto it to protect his torso. His bodyguard were unable to protect him as half of them were dead and the rest were heavily engaged themselves. Suddenly two of the men attacking the Babylonian prince arched their backs and collapsed.
Samsu-Iluna had no time to see where his salvation had come from. He quickly disposed of his remaining assailant and went to the assistance of his bodyguards. He had no compunction about slicing off the head of a man facing away from him and then attacked two more from behind before the others fled. He and his men stood panting and leaning on their weapons. They were too exhausted to speak and could only nod at each other. They had just recovered enough when they were joined by a party of archers led by a grinning captain of a hundred.
‘Just was well we noticed your predicament, lord.’
Samsu-Iluna laughed. ‘You took your time though. I was beginning to think that Mutu-Namaha might be the next King of Babylon after all!’ His face took on a more sombre look. ‘I am very grateful to you and your men. Remind me to reward you all once this is over.’
He looked around him and saw that in most places the Sumerians had given up the fight and were either throwing down their weapons in surrender or trying to flee back down the valley in the direction of Nippur. Not knowing of his death, Samsu-Iluna muttered ‘I just hope that Es-Nasir can keep the stopper in the flagon.’
Haban was getting concerned about the losses he was suffering. He had succeeded in getting his foot soldiers into position across the entrance to the valley but, unlike Arishaka’s men at the other end, they had no wall to help them. He estimated that he had lost half his spearmen and now his archers and slingers on the slopes above the entrance were under heavy attack. He pulled the chariots and camel archers off to the west and then gave the order for the remaining men on foot to fall back and join him.
As they did so it was like the opening of the floodgates. The Sumerians threw away their weapons and hared off to the south. Once the flood had eased he sealed the valley again with the spearmen and foot archers before leading his camel archers and the chariots in pursuit. Cutting down helpless men by putting an arrow in their backs was not something he enjoyed but his orders were quite clear: kill as many of the Sumerians as possible. He didn’t have the time nor the resources to take prisoners so he and his men were forced to cut down even those holding their hands up in the air in surrender.
The enemy fled past Marad and on towards Nippur fifteen miles away to the south east. Haban kept up the pursuit until the walls of the city hove into view. The area in front of the north wall was full of men crowding around the gates. At first Haban didn’t understand why they hadn’t taken refuge in the city, but then he realised that the gates were firmly shut against them. He and his men, together with the chariots that he had sent off in the initial pursuit, threw a cordon around the stranded men as best he could whilst he sent a message back to Hammurabi.
By the time that the king had arrived with reinforcements Haban had taken the many thousands of Sumerians prisoner by the simple expedient of shooting down anyone who tried to escape. As it got dark the captives were roped together and the king accepted the surrender of Nippur. The city had been Babylonian until a young Rim-Sim had captured both it and neighbouring Isin from Hammurabi’s father nearly fifty years before, so it wasn’t too difficult to persuade the elders of Nippur to re-join Babylonia.
Hammurabi should have been elated by his success but he felt devastated by something that had happened just before the Sumerians had given up their assault on the wall across the valley and retreated. An unlucky arrow had struck Arishaka in the eye, killing him instantly.
Chapter Nine – Balshazzar – 1764 BCE
Mutu-Namaha entered the council chamber to join Narem-Suen, Huchithrâ and their council. He had met a few, but not all of them, before. One caught his eye in particular. Like the rest he was bearded, but it was obviously a false one worn for effect. He was introduced as Xvarenah, the son of a Hittite merchant and a Babylonian mother who had arrived a year ago to offer his services to the new Hiritum army. He had proved to be a good soldier and a promising leader and had quickly risen to become the captain of archers. Mutu-Namaha thought that he looked vaguely familiar but he couldn’t place him.
The young man’s expression on meeting him puzzled the prince; it seemed to him to be a strange mixture of wariness and superciliousness, as if he had got away with something important but was still afraid of being found out. He banished the thought from his mind and concentrated on the matter in hand, but he glanced over at Xvarenah from time to time. The man ignored these glances but the prince was certain that he was aware of them.
‘It makes sense to prepare for a siege, though the thought of undergoing the privations of another so soon after the last has dismayed the people,’ the king began. ‘However, I suggest we load what boats we have with archers and slingers and patrol the upper reaches of the Tigris to try and stop the Eshnunnans from crossing.’
‘That makes sense lord king, but if they cross the Tigris under the walls of Assur there is nothing we can do about it; and we may antagonise the Assyrians further to no purpose,’ Xvarenah said with conviction.
Mutu-Namaha gave him an annoyed look before replying. ‘That may well be true but Assur is not easy to reach, and they will have to cross the River Adasi, which flows into the Tigris from the east, to get there. Perhaps we can forestall them there? It is worth shadowing their march from the river in any case.’
‘I agree,’ Narem-Suen gave him a brief smile. ‘But we also need to enlist the help of our allies. I propose to send messages to Mari suggesting that they come to our aid to forestall the Assyrians and the Eshnunnans taking us out one by one, and to Babylon to let them know of the situation. I know that Hammurabi is fully engaged with Sumeria but he may be able to do something to help.’
‘I would be happy to act as your emissary to Mari, lord king,’ Xvarenah volunteered.
‘Thank you. I will send two of the elders with you.’ He named them before going on to ask Mutu-Namaha to appoint one of his officers to inform Queen Adiar in Babylon. The discussion then turned to the defence of the city.
Xvarenah left the meeting wondering how he was going to get rid of the two elders and the escort detailed to accompany him to Mari. He had no intention of asking Yarim-Lin to bring the Marians to the aid of Hiritum. He had been worried that Mutu-Namaha might recognise him but the little prig had no idea that his real name was Balshazzar.
When he had lef
t Babylon, bought by a farmer at the slave market, he vowed to himself that he would be avenged on Hammurabi and all his brood. The farmer had been left a farm near the city of Mari and Balshazzar was sent there, with ten other slaves, to work the land for the farm manager. The latter was a young man a few years older than Balshazzar who was the son of a Hittite merchant and a Babylonian mother. His name was Xvarenah.
Balshazzar was a model slave: hard working, loyal and apparently trustworthy. Within two years he had been made one of the two overseers who helped Xvarenah manage the farm. This brought him additional privileges, such as a room in the main house which he shared with the other overseer. The door was still locked at night but Balshazzar was confident that he could overpower Xvarenah when he unlocked it in the morning. Unlike the other slaves he wasn’t required to work with a rope hobble around his ankles to prevent him from running away.
One night he waited until his fellow overseer started to snore and then he strangled him. The man thrashed around and fought like a man possessed but he was old and smaller than Balshazzar. Eventually his struggles ceased and the former Babylonian captain of slingers covered him with his threadbare blanket made of goat hair as if he was asleep, then waited for dawn.
When the door was unlocked and Xvarenah stuck his head around it to ensure that his two overseers were up and about, Balshazzar slammed it against the jamb, trapping the manager’s head between the two pieces of wood and knocking him out. He lugged the unconscious manager over to his bed before locking the door and hastening into the main house to find his money chest and the parchment which confirmed Xvarenah’s identity. By the time he had done this the farm manager had regained consciousness and was banging on the door. The other slaves were clamouring to be let out of the room in which they were locked for the night too.