by Sam Barone
“Then I will be sure not to burden him with these matters.” If Eskkar’s sarcasm affected either of them, they didn’t show it.
“Now let me take you to Sargon’s tent,” Petra said. “I appear to have lost my way. Forgive me. His tent is back in that direction.”
Probably a hundred paces from Subutai’s, Eskkar guessed. Well, after traveling all the way from Akkad, another few steps wouldn’t hurt. He turned and led the way, as a man should, in the direction that Petra indicated. As he walked, Eskkar wondered what Trella was going to think about all this.
36
“Sargon, your father is coming.” Tashanella’s words interrupted the discussion between Sargon, Garal, and Jennat. As younger warriors, they had little interest in observing the Council of Leaders. Neither Jennat nor Garal was likely to get close enough to hear what the clan leaders had to say.
Instead the two warriors had decided to celebrate Eskkar’s arrival with Sargon. Now they glanced up to see the King of Akkad approaching. Tashanella, after delivering her warning, disappeared into the tent.
Eskkar strode up to the edge of the open space before the tent, where a small campfire would soon be set alight to cook the evening’s meal and to provide light for the warrior and his friends. Eskkar slowed when he saw the tent, more imposing even than Subutai’s.
Two men sat on the ground beside Sargon, a few paces from the tent’s entrance. The tent flap twitched, and Eskkar realized someone was watching him from inside. No other women were nearby, so that would be Subutai’s daughter.
A long stride from the men, Eskkar halted and studied his son. The boy had changed since their parting. Sargon sat relaxed, his back supported by a good sized boulder. He should have risen, to show respect to his father. Eskkar decided to ignore his son’s disrespect. He would not let Sargon set the tone for the meeting.
The other two rose to their feet in deference, suddenly nervous at the arrival of their friend’s father.
Eskkar knew the effect his presence had on strangers. As tall as anyone in the camp, his chest, despite his age, still revealed powerful muscles that bulged beneath his tunic. The scar on his face added to his grim demeanor.
“Sargon.” Eskkar used his son’s name as a greeting. He glanced around the area, then studied Jennat and Garal. “And these are your friends?”
Both men felt the pressure of that gaze. The two young warriors suddenly appeared anxious and awkward. One looked to be not much older than Sargon.
“These are my friends, Father. This is Garal, son of Chinua, and this is Jennat, another of Chinua’s warriors.”
Eskkar smiled at both of them and bowed in acknowledgement. “You are the fearless warriors that rode into the lands of the Alur Meriki with Sargon. I have just learned some of the brave deeds you accomplished. My thanks, and those of my wife, are offered to you both for protecting our son, and for your courage. If there is anything you need from Akkad, you have only to let me know.”
The young men looked flustered. Unused to dealing with men of power, they had expected Sargon’s father to be as grim and angry as Sargon portrayed him. Now Eskkar’s sudden warmth and easy greeting changed their attitude to one of respect.
Eskkar understood their confusion. Both must have known that he was likely to visit his son, and had wanted to be present. But now that Eskkar had arrived, the idea of getting involved in a family matter must have seemed foolhardy.
“It is we who are honored, Lord Eskkar.” It had taken Garal a moment before he could speak. “My father has spoken of you often. He said he learned much from you at the Battle of Isin.”
“I remember your father standing on the back of his horse, riding up and down the battle line, waving his bare ass at the enemy.”
Eskkar laughed at the memory, as vivid today as it was eight years ago. “Until that moment, everyone had felt only the dread of the coming conflict. Chinua’s bravado broke the spell of the enemy’s superior numbers. Soon that deed will be the only one anyone recalls from that battle. His courage, and that of all the other Ur Nammu warriors, helped turn the tide.”
Garal bowed at the words of praise. He turned to Sargon. “I think we should go. You and your father will have much to talk about.”
Jennat muttered something. He, too, bowed to Eskkar before he followed in Garal’s footsteps.
Eskkar acknowledged them both, then watched as they left, both of them glancing back for one last look at the King of Akkad. Then father and son were alone.
“You did well with them, Father. Now my friends will boast about meeting you, and how respectful you were.”
“They may be your friends, but they are allies of Akkad, and as such, they are worthy of more than just my respect.” Eskkar glanced around. “Are you going to invite me to sit down, or must I stand in the presence of my son?”
Sargon sighed. “Sit, Father. Would you leave if I asked you to go?”
By custom, every warrior ruled over his tent and its surroundings.
“Yes, after a time.” Eskkar settled himself on the ground, slipping the heavy sword from over his shoulder and resting it across his knees. He faced his son over the kindling that would soon be the supper fire. “But first, I must do my duty. You have become a man by killing an enemy in battle. For that, your mother and I honor you. And now that you are man, you must be treated as one. Remember that, if you remember nothing else.”
“Then you’ve done your duty,” Sargon said. “If you’ve come to bring me back to Akkad, you can tell Mother that I intend to remain here, as one of Subutai’s warriors. I want nothing more from either of you.”
A boy’s pride at becoming a man, Eskkar decided. That, and the arrogance of a son who believed he no longer needed his father or mother.
“Who said that I wanted you back in Akkad?” Eskkar smiled at the expression of surprise that crossed Sargon’s face.
“Why else would you visit my tent?”
“Ah, but there are a few reasons. First is that I’ve come to see my daughter in law.” He glanced around, as if expecting her to bound into his presence. “Or is she not allowed to meet her husband’s father?”
“She has nothing to say to you. Nor does she need to hear anything from you. She knows that my life in Akkad has ended.”
After his talk with Petra and Roxsanni, Eskkar doubted that. He contemplated his son for a moment. Sargon might have convinced these warriors that he had achieved manhood, he might even have convinced himself, but the boy still had much to learn.
“Well, then if your wife has more important duties than to talk to the ruler of Akkad and the ally of her father, I will depart. I’m sure Subutai will not take offense at the slight.”
Eskkar pushed the tip of the scabbard into the ground, and started to rise.
“Wait!” Sargon’s voice revealed the anger that still lurked just below the surface of his words. But despite what Sargon must feel, he dared not refuse his father’s request.
With a few words, Eskkar had already won over his two closest friends. Garal and Jennat were probably even now recounting their meeting with mighty Eskkar of Akkad, slayer of Thutmose-sin, and the words of praise he’d heaped on them and their Clan.
Tashanella would be devastated if her father learned Sargon had refused to let her meet with Eskkar. Not to mention that Subutai, as leader of the clan Sargon now claimed as his own, might simply order Sargon to produce his wife.
Eskkar settled himself back on the ground and again let the sword rest across his knees. He was beginning to enjoy himself. Sargon had always been difficult to deal with, even as a young boy.
Now, all that had changed, and Eskkar felt relieved that the obligations of fatherhood had ended. Sargon called himself a man, so now he had to act like one. And dealing with men of all kinds and ages was something that Eskkar had many years of experience with.
“Tashanella! Join us.”
A moment passed before the tent flap opened and the girl emerged, though Eskkar had no doubt that she
had been standing just inside, listening to every word. She took the three steps needed to bring her to Sargon’s side.
“Yes, Husband.”
“This is my father, Lord of the City of Akkad.”
Eskkar ignored the hint of sarcasm. He was too busy studying the girl, dressed in what must be her finest dress and obviously new sandals. Among the Ur Nammu, she would be considered a real beauty, and even in Akkad her face and shapely legs would attract every man’s eyes. Long dark hair swirled around Tashanella’s face, and her wide, deep set eyes could make any man tremble.
She seemed familiar. Something about her tickled Eskkar’s memory. He must have seen her before, at Subutai’s camp, though he couldn’t recall it.
Tashanella took another step forward, to stand directly in front of him. “I am pleased to meet the father of my husband, Lord Eskkar.” She bowed low, her chin and eyes downcast.
A good strong voice, the words properly humble. Her figure appeared a bit thin, but a few children would change that. Then Eskkar realized why she touched a memory. Tashanella held herself much like Trella had, the first night he’d met his new slave.
The powerful recollection washed over him. Eskkar had to restrain himself from reaching out and lifting up her chin, the way he had done that night more than fifteen years ago. Though Sargon didn’t realize it, he’d chosen a woman much like his mother. Eskkar wondered what Trella would make of that fact.
“Your father did not tell me how beautiful his daughter is.” Eskkar’s voice now held a trace of sadness. As if it had happened yesterday, he remembered the rush of passion that had come over him, over both he and Trella, that night long ago.
“I am pleased that you do not find me unattractive.” She lifted her eyes and met his gaze.
Looking into those eyes, Eskkar realized something else. She appeared determined to stand by her husband, even against Eskkar’s wishes.
He also realized that the plan her two mothers had put forward earlier was not going to work. Not without some changes. Suddenly Eskkar felt better about that, too. Waiting a year or two for Sargon to grow up and change his ways didn’t appeal to Eskkar.
“Is there something you wish to say to my wife, Father?”
The moment of silence had stretched out longer than Eskkar realized. “No, Sargon. I don’t think there is anything I need to say. Except to give my approval on your choice of a wife. Your mother will be pleased.”
He turned back to Tashanella. “And I’m sure my wife would invite you to visit us in Akkad. It is the custom, is it not, to pay your respects to the mother of your husband?”
“We have no need to return to Akkad.” Sargon’s voice sounded as petulant as Eskkar’s had been lighthearted. “I wish to have nothing to do with either of you.”
Eskkar shrugged. “Well, then there is little more I can say. I will give Subutai the bad news.”
This time Eskkar used the sword to lift himself to his feet. Once upright, he took his time as he slung the sword over his shoulder.
“What bad news do you have for my father, Lord Eskkar?” Tashanella couldn’t keep the hint of worry from her voice. She might look much like Trella, might even have keen wits, but few women in the land, or men, for that matter, possessed Trella’s sharp mind. Not to mention that the young bride still had much to learn about the ways of men.
Eskkar took a deep breath. “Tomorrow I meet with Subutai and Chief Bekka of the Alur Meriki. It seems that Sargon made certain promises to him, in the name of Akkad and of the Ur Nammu. Those assurances were the real reasons Bekka rode to assist the Ur Nammu. I told him that I would stand behind my son’s words. Now I will have to tell Bekka that perhaps not all those promises may be kept. And Subutai also. Since your husband wants no part in Akkad’s future, his words do not bind me. It will be embarrassing for me to admit that my son wants to disown his heritage, but that will soon pass. Of course I will make my own arrangement with Chief Bekka and the Alur Meriki.”
Tashanella’s eyes widened in shock. Unlike her mothers, she had not considered all the possibilities of Sargon’s choices. The new found peace between the Alur Meriki and the Ur Nammu might vanish like smoke in the night. And all because of her husband and his stubborn pride.
“You would do that?” Once again, Sargon let his anger show through. “You would deny me in front of all my friends?”
“Four months ago, you told me you hated the entire Ur Nammu Clan. You called them dirty and ignorant barbarians. Now they are your friends, your new family. Who knows what you will think in another few months.”
Eskkar turned away from his son, and directed his words at the girl. “Of course, your father will be disappointed as well. He had hoped that closer ties with Akkad would help safeguard his people. That, too, may have to change. Akkad will have to decide what is in its best interest.”
“Damn you!” Sargon rose, his hands clenched and his face turning red, the pose of indifference gone. “I only did what you would have done!”
“Perhaps.” Not long ago Eskkar’s temper would have flared at such a display from his son. Now he merely shrugged, and kept his gaze on Tashanella. “But Sargon wants to keep his status with the clans as my son, and speak for Akkad in my absence. Bekka and Subutai must be made aware that Sargon, by his own choice, does not have that authority.”
Tashanella, her eyes wide, stared at Eskkar.
He softened his voice. “You need not be concerned with such things, Tashanella. Your husband will still see to your needs.”
“My Lord, why do you quarrel with your son?” Tashanella could scarcely keep the panic from her voice. “He has done nothing but good since he came here.”
“That pleases me to hear. But I no longer have any quarrel with him, Tashanella. I brought to your father a boy who needed training. Subutai and your people taught Sargon to be a man and a warrior, and my son has completed his training honorably. I wish him only the best of fortune.”
Eskkar leaned forward and looked into her eyes. “He did tell you why I brought him here, didn’t he?”
The girl couldn’t help but dart a glance at her husband. “Yes, he told me.”
The seed of doubt had been planted. She had probably accepted Sargon’s version of events. Now she would insist on hearing the whole story.
And if she didn’t get a satisfactory reply, there were other ways she could learn the details. Eskkar decided to tell Petra and Roxsanni the entire story, that the boy had defied his mother, physically threatened his father, and renounced them both. Yes, when Tashanella learned the truth, she would indeed guide her husband.
“Then I am satisfied.” Eskkar bowed to her, then turned to his son. “I thank you for letting me meet your wife, and for the hospitality of your tent. My men and I will leave for Akkad tomorrow, after I finish meeting with Chief Bekka. The sooner we return home, the better. Too many fighting men too close to each other always leads to trouble.” He lifted his gaze to the tent, and shook his head. “That is the grandest tent I have ever seen.”
Eskkar turned and strode off into the gathering darkness, wondering how long the silence would endure after he was out of earshot. He resisted the temptation to double back and try to catch a few words. If anyone saw him, it would be too embarrassing.
By the time Eskkar found his way back to Subutai’s tent, the feast had begun. Eskkar knew there would be no more serious talk for the rest of the night. The captured Carchemishi baggage train contained more than a few wineskins, and Subutai had managed to save six of them for just such a celebration.
Eskkar had always frowned on his men getting drunk, and had established a rule for his soldiers. No man was permitted to get drunk more than once a month. Even less often would be better, but men were men, and to try and stop something as natural as drinking would have made him look foolish. But no matter how much they drank at night in the ale houses, every man still had to attend to his duties the next day.
As soon as the evening meal was put away, the wine appeared
, and Eskkar knew that everyone would soon be decently drunk. Unlike villagers, who had more access to heady date wine or strong ale, warriors seldom enjoyed that luxury, and so it took little more than a cup or two to raise both their spirits and voices.
Bekka and his commanders appeared, as did Fashod and Chinua and their men. Soon more than fifty warriors reveled in the fire’s light. Surrounding them were other Ur Nammu warriors, as well as their women and children, who came to stare at the circle of leaders.
Though Eskkar rarely drank more than a cup of well-watered wine, he let himself drink almost as much as the others. Fortunately for Eskkar’s head, the wineskins soon ran empty. The talking and shouting continued, broken by the occasional song giving praise to some battle or another.
Eventually the powerful wine had its effect. Eskkar had ridden hard for many days, and the rapid journey had taken its toll. He felt his eyes growing heavy. Warriors began to nod off, some falling flat on their backs. Others were led away by their wives or comrades. Subutai’s fire burned down to a dull glow.
Finally Bekka and his companions left, and Eskkar accepted Subutai’s invitation to sleep in his tent. Eskkar told Hathor to return to the Akkadian camp. Then Eskkar and Subutai fumbled their way inside the Ur Nammu chief’s dwelling.
By then Eskkar couldn’t stop yawning. Fortunately, Subutai was too tired or drunk to take either or both of his wives, not that the noise or activity would have kept Eskkar awake. He dropped onto the blanket they’d given him, flung his arm over his eyes, and fell asleep. Or passed out, he couldn’t be sure which.
When Eskkar awoke it was still dark. The leader of the Ur Nammu snored peacefully on the other side of the tent, flanked by his wives. But dawn approached, so Eskkar pushed himself up, eased the tent flap aside, and stepped outside. The sun had yet to clear the horizon, but already shafts of light struggled against the remnants of the night sky.