Battle For Empire (The Eskkar Saga)

by Sam Barone

  Eskkar never let his sword stop moving. The blade whirled up and swung down in a sideways motion, and at the bottom of its arc, driven by all the strength in both of Eskkar’s arms, it sliced through Thutmose-sin’s neck with a spray of blood, sending the Sarum’s head rolling across the hard ground.

  A roar erupted from the Akkadian line. Men jumped and waved their weapons. “Eskkar! Eskkar!” The deafening cry echoed from the cliff. Eskkar took a deep breath, then reached down and slid the big copper medallion from the Sarum’s body and stuffed it into his tunic. Suddenly the cheers from the Akkadian line changed in intensity. Eskkar glanced up toward the hilltop.

  A lone rider raced down the hillside in a reckless display of horsemanship. This one clenched a bow in his left hand, and even as he descended, Eskkar saw him fit an arrow to the string.

  A-tuku stood waiting only a dozen paces away, chewing on a lonely tuft of grass. Eskkar could leap astride and reach the safety of his men before the rider could get close enough to launch an arrow. But Eskkar recognized the horse. It belonged to Bar’rack, the clan leader who had sworn the Shan Kar against his hated enemy.

  Eskkar made up his mind. The lances that he and Thutmose-sin had hurled to show their defiance stood close at hand. Eskkar ran toward them, shifting his sword to his left hand. The drumming hoof beats changed as the warrior’s horse reached the base of the hill and increased its speed. Head down, Eskkar covered the last few paces.

  Without stopping he ripped the Akkadian lance from the earth and flung himself to the side, back toward the way he’d run. An arrow hissed through the spot where Eskkar had been only a moment ago.

  As Bar’rack fitted another shaft to his string, Eskkar charged toward him, reaching back at the same time with his right hand and tightening his grip on the weapon. Before Bar’rack’s bow could come up, Eskkar’s lance flew through the air, flung with all his strength. The bronze tipped lance struck the charging horse, now less than twenty paces away, full in the chest.

  The animal took two more strides, stumbled, and fell to its knees, less than five paces from where Eskkar stood. The arrow launched by the warrior flew wide, as Bar’rack was pitched from the dying horse’s back. He landed heavily, rolling once, the bow flying from his hand.

  Stunned, Bar’rack tried to regain his feet as he tugged clumsily at his sword. By then Eskkar had reached him.

  “Your brother died with honor, but you will die like a coward, and your kin will not mourn your passing.” Once again the big sword descended and bit deep into flesh, a showering of blood marking the place where the blade impacted the side of Bar’rack’s neck. The warrior fell, and lay twitching on the ground, still alive, bleeding to death.

  Eskkar stared at him. Before Eskkar could regain his breath, Bar’rack’s body went limp, the man’s sword still half in its scabbard. Taking his time, Eskkar wiped his bloody blade on the dead man’s tunic. Then he walked back to A-tuku and swung astride. He forced himself to take a deep breath, though he felt his heart race within his chest from the battle fury. He had truly avenged his father’s death.

  “We did it, A-tuku.” He patted the animal on the side of the neck. “We defeated the best the Alur Meriki could send against us. Never again will they doubt the strength of our men or of our horses.”

  Overhead, the last of the dusky rain clouds had faded away, and suddenly a wide swatch of sunlight streamed down from the sky, bathing the patch of ground where Eskkar stood with its warmth. A good omen, Eskkar thought, to mark the death of Thutmose-sin.

  A glance toward the enemy hill showed the Alur Meriki warriors looking up, and the faint murmur of their words drifted toward him. They, too, saw the omen and understood. The gods had given their approval to Eskkar’s victory.

  Another shout from the Akkadians turned Eskkar’s head back toward the enemy’s hilltop. Two riders were descending, but this time at a slow and measured pace. Neither carried bow or lance, and one lifted his right hand high in the air, to show that he carried no weapon.

  “Now what do these two want, A-tuku?”

  A-tuku snorted in reply, and lowered his head once again to tug at the stubborn clump of tough grass.

  From the hilltop, Bekka and Urgo watched Thutmose-sin’s final moments. Every Alur Meriki warrior knew of their Sarum’s prowess, but it seemed that this Eskkar had dispatched their ruler with both skill and a display of better horsemanship.

  “That bay didn’t look that powerful,” Bekka remarked, sitting on his horse beside Urgo. “I think Thutmose-sin made the same mistake.”

  They both turned to stare when they saw Bar’rack disobey his Sarum’s final order, and dash down the hill, blind in his hatred.

  Urgo shook his head. “Bar’rack is a good clan leader for one so young, but his Shan Kar has driven reason from his head. If he kills Eskkar, we are doomed. The Akkadians will never leave the stream until we are all dead.”

  “He will not get close enough,” Bekka said. “The archers will . . . by the gods!”

  Both men stared open mouth as the King of the Akkadians raced across the field to where the jutting lances protruded from the earth. A few moments later, they saw the long sword, reflecting a gleam of sunlight, swing down to end the life of another clan leader.

  Silence swept across the hilltop. Until now, the Alur Meriki warriors had offered many reasons for their defeat at the Akkadians’ hands. Now one man, even one who once had belonged to the Clan, had struck down two of their leaders with apparent ease. No longer could any warrior dare impugn such a fighter’s honor.

  “At least it is finished.” Urgo raised his voice. “Pass the word. No warrior is to leave the hilltop.” He waited a moment as the order spread out to either side. “Come, Bekka, ride with me.” He touched his horse’s neck with the halter, and the animal started down the slope.

  Bekka joined him. Neither man said anything, both concentrating on guiding their respective horse. Urgo led the way, and Bekka suspected that he did so to conceal the grimaces of pain from his body. Bekka knew the old warrior could ride for short stretches on level ground, but a steep slope such as this amounted to agony with each step.

  “He waits for us,” Bekka said, as they reached the level ground.

  “He has no fear,” Urgo agreed. “Which means that he probably won’t order his archers to strike us down.”

  Bekka had been thinking about that as they stepped past the ragged line of long shafts angled skyward that marked the extreme range of the powerful Akkadian bows.

  “It’s not that I’m afraid, Urgo, but you have lived many years, while I still have more children to father.” He could see a wide line of Akkadian bowmen formed up along the edge of the stream, and Bekka recognized the Slayer of Warriors, bow in hand, standing at their center. A hundred shafts could rain down from the sky upon them at any time.

  Urgo snorted with amusement. “Today, tomorrow, death will take us sooner or later if we don’t get our people to the stream.”

  The new Sarum of the Alur Meriki and one of his few remaining clan leaders approached Eskkar’s position. The Akkadian King sat on his horse, facing them. His face revealed no emotion, no boastful signs of a victorious fighter.

  “What are you going to say?” Bekka knew little of negotiations or serious talks between leaders, let alone enemies.

  “What we must. The only thing that will save the Alur Meriki from destruction.”

  11

  Eskkar had collected A-tuku’s halter and stood beside his mount, watching the two warriors walk their horses toward him. Satisfied that their slow pace indicated peaceful intentions, he swung astride his horse and moved a few paces toward them. That would take A-tuku away from the flies, as well as show the approaching horsemen he didn’t fear them.

  While he waited for the two to draw near, Eskkar glanced up at the sky. The mountain sun had broken through most of the dreary clouds of morning. The bright sunlight brought back a memory. His father, Hogarthak, always muttered a prayer to the gods for the wa
rmth of the sun.

  Today, the day Eskkar had never really believed would arrive, had come. Today he avenged his family. When Eskkar met his own fate and descended into the underworld, he could stand before his father with honor. And for Hogarthak’s bravery to his clan leader, Eskkar knew his father would command a seat of importance close to the gods. His spirit could now rest in peace.

  Eskkar brought his thoughts back to the two riders. He recognized Bekka’s stocky form. The other chief, with long wispy gray hair floating in the light breeze, seemed uneasy on his horse. But the older man led the way, with Bekka obviously deferring to his companion’s years. As they drew close, Eskkar saw that neither wasted a glance at the headless body of Thutmose-sin.

  The old warrior halted his horse within a single stride of Eskkar’s bay. All three animals stretched out their necks, sniffing at each other, tails swishing away the flies summoned by the freshly spilled blood. More sunlight rent the last of the fading clouds, and shone down on the Akkadian position. The gods had clearly spoken, and they had given their favor to the fighters from Akkad.

  The gray haired warrior studied Eskkar’s face for a moment. “I am Urgo. For now, I am Sarum of the Alur Meriki.”

  Eskkar searched his memory, but he had left the clan many years ago, when he was fourteen. He couldn’t recall a warrior or chief named Urgo. In those days, there had been twelve clan leaders forming the Great Council. This Urgo was old enough to have been one of those, but he might have risen in the ranks since then.

  “I am Eskkar.” He nodded to Bekka. “Do you wish to talk, or have you also come to challenge me again?”

  “The time for challenges is past.” Urgo rested both hands on the base of his horse’s neck and leaned forward, as if seeking relief for an injured back. “The women and children of the Alur Meriki need the water you guard. I ask you, as warrior to warrior, to not take your vengeance out on them. If you must destroy our warriors this day, so be it. But after the battle, I plead for mercy for our women, our old, and our young.”

  Eskkar studied their faces as Urgo spoke. Trella had taught him to read the subtle signs that often passed over men’s visages, and he recognized the small hints that indicated Urgo was in pain, possibly much pain. Bekka, who had bloodstained bandages wrapped around his right arm, chest, and left leg, betrayed no sign of weakness.

  Eskkar sensed something else in the younger man’s calm exterior. Bekka had fought hard, but he, too, realized the time for battle had passed.

  The Alur Meriki had indeed grown desperate. Eskkar’s men, their demeanor, their willingness to fight, and their steadiness during the attack, had delivered a chill into the hearts of these brave warriors. With their advantage in numbers gone, they knew they faced hardened fighters. Though the Alur Meriki would never admit it, deep down in their hearts, they knew they could not win.

  A glimmer of an idea caught hold in Eskkar’s thoughts. When he finally spoke, he addressed his words to Urgo.

  “You speak of mercy, but for many years the Alur Meriki have shown none to the villagers and farmers of this land. Why should I now offer any to you?”

  “What you say is true, Eskkar of Akkad. But once you were Eskkar, son of Hogarthak, of the Alur Meriki. I knew your father as a brave and honorable man. I watched him fight and die with honor. Are you so eager now to take revenge on your own kind? You have killed many hundreds of our men since the days of Orak. How many more will it take to satisfy you? How many would Hogarthak want to die?”

  Urgo wanted peace, Eskkar decided. More than that, he wanted to preserve the Alur Meriki from destruction. The hastily conceived idea in the back of Eskkar’s mind took hold and grew. The risks would be great, but he much preferred a bold gamble. He would have liked more time to think it through, but knew this moment might not come again.

  Moving with care, Eskkar raised up his right leg and rested it across A-tuku’s neck. The gesture left him vulnerable should either of the warriors attack, but it also proved the courage needed to display such strength. Up on the crest of the hill, the watching warriors would see and understand.

  “My father’s spirit is satisfied with the death of Thutmose-sin. His father killed mine, so that blood debt is paid. But my brother, my sister, my mother, what of them? How will their deaths be avenged?”

  “They cannot,” Urgo answered. “Still, over the years Thutmose-sin lost three of his sons, killed at the hands of your fighters. Now his wives and children will mourn his loss. But if you need to take your revenge on Thutmose-sin’s family, I will send them to you. You can kill them, or keep them as slaves.”

  Neither choice interested Eskkar. Instead, the plan developing in his mind fell into place. With luck, it might come to be. Nevertheless, there was only one way to find out. He turned his gaze to Bekka.

  “What do you say to this, Bekka?”

  The warrior met Eskkar’s eyes for a moment, apparently surprised at being asked his opinion. Then, taking his time, Bekka lifted his right leg up and onto the neck of his horse. To those watching, he and Eskkar might have been old friends taking a moment of rest after a long day’s ride, both too lazy to dismount.

  “I have only been a clan leader for four seasons,” Bekka said. “So it is not my place to speak against Urgo’s wisdom. But it may be that the fighting between Akkad and the Alur Meriki should come to an end. Akkad has won the long conflict. Even if we attacked your forces and destroyed all of them, those of us who survived would be too weak to defend themselves and our wagons against our enemies.”

  And you have many enemies, Eskkar thought. But now was not the time to remind these proud men of that.

  “Akkad, too, still has enemies who would test our swords.” Eskkar paused, searching for the right words. “But it may be possible for there to be peace between us. Are the Alur Meriki willing to accept such a peace?”

  “Yes.”

  Urgo hadn’t hesitated. No more bargaining, no more threats. Just the single word that might save the Alur Meriki from annihilation.

  “I agree with my Sarum,” Bekka said. “What is it that we must do?”

  Eskkar wished Trella were here to negotiate with them. She would know the right phrases to smooth the way. All the same, he would have to do his best. He had, after all, sat through hundreds of seemingly endless bargaining sessions with greedy traders and gold-loving merchants, arguing over every copper coin or slight to their honor. Nothing here could be worse than that.

  “If the Great Clan wishes peace, then they must accept the following. First, a thousand warriors to fight under my banner when I summon them. They will have their fair share of any loot when we battle my enemy. Bekka will be their leader, and on that day, he will swear his allegiance to me on his sword and on his honor as a warrior in front of his men. It may be two or three years before your fighters are needed, but then they must place themselves under my command.”

  “With so many warriors gone, the Alur Meriki will be vulnerable.” Bekka offered it not as a challenge, merely an observation.

  “I understand. When I summon you, your people may place themselves under the protection of Akkad, in our northern lands. They will be safe there, and I will see that they have what they need while your warriors are gone.”

  Bekka turned to Urgo, who nodded approval.

  Urgo met Eskkar’s gaze. “It will be done.”

  “Second,” Eskkar went on, “the Alur Meriki must swear to never again raid the lands of Akkad, or wage war against the Ur Nammu. Like Akkad, the Ur Nammu have suffered greatly from the wrath of the Alur Meriki. Every warrior must swear on his sword and his honor, and with open hands. There must be no pebbles held to deny the oath.”

  Some warriors considered that a pebble clutched in one hand rendered an oath meaningless.

  Urgo smiled. “You are wise, indeed. Agreed. Akkad and the Ur Nammu will be considered as friends.”

  The Alur Meriki hadn’t considered anyone their friends for as far back as anyone could remember, but Eskkar decided
not to bring that up, either.

  “Third, I will need three hundred war horses. One hundred now, two hundred next year.”

  Urgo shrugged. “After last night, we have many extra horses. Agreed.”

  “Fourth, the Alur Meriki must free all their slaves. Many of those have been captured in these lands.”

  “That can be done,” Urgo said. So far the only thing of real value Eskkar had requested was the horses. The slaves were a useful luxury, nothing more.

  “And last, I want all the members of my father’s clan, Jamal’s Hawk Clan, to be given the chance to join my standard. They must be permitted to make the choice freely.”

  For the first time, Eskkar saw surprise on Urgo’s face.

  The old man took his time before replying. “I don’t know who they are, or even how many of them are left alive,” Urgo said. “It has been many seasons since the Hawk Clan’s banner flew in the sky.”

  Over thirty years, Eskkar guessed. But this was something he wanted to do for his father, Hogarthak.

  “That may be,” Eskkar said, “but I will make the offer myself to your warriors. And you and Bekka will make sure that they are free to leave the Clan.”

  “It can be done,” Urgo said.

  “And I want the family of Thutmose-sin protected and cared for. All of them. They are mine by right of conquest, but you will place them under your standard, Chief Urgo. They are not to be harmed or suffer any shame.”

  The dead Sarum’s family meant nothing to Eskkar, but many would take offense at any harsh treatment to Thutmose-sin’s family. Instead, Eskkar’s generosity would be appreciated. Not to mention he didn’t need Thutmose-sin’s children growing up eager to avenge their father’s death, and waiting for an opportunity to strike.

  “Agreed.” Urgo obviously had little sympathy or interest for his former Sarum’s wives and children. “That is all you . . . request?”