by Sam Barone
The narrow valley ran fairly straight, rising slightly from south to north.
At the south end, where the settlers established their homes, the opening was ninety paces wide. Once past the entrance, the vale widened quickly to more than twice that. The far end lay more than a mile distant, and that entrance spread about two hundred and twenty paces across. About five hundred paces before the north opening, however, the cliff walls closed in, narrowing the valley at that point to approximately one hundred and twenty paces.
Esk kar approved of the valley walls. Steep and rocky, they offered few places where a horse and rider might, with great care, scramble to the top.
Inside the basin the land was open and flat with no places for concealment or defense. Nevertheless, neither Esk kar nor Mesilim looked satisfied with the location.
Jalen saw the frowns. “Captain, this was the best location I could find.
You wanted something close to the river where they could be closed in.
And it’s nearly on the line of march to Orak.”
“I’m sure it’s the best we could find,” Esk kar said. “But it’s going to be difficult to spring a trap here. We’ll have to split the men, and that means the Alur Meriki will outnumber each half. And the length of the valley means a long run for the men to close up.”
“The canyon is wide here,” Mesilim added. “Our lines will be thin and our enemy can concentrate their forces at any point.” He turned to Eskkar. “Remember, you say we need to kill them all, not just defeat them. If they see the size of our force, they’ll simply turn away and ride south by another route.”
Jalen looked doubtful. “Without a fight?”
“They won’t fight unless they expect to win. They see no dishonor in running away, or shooting arrows at us from a distance for hours or even days.” Esk kar shook his head. “We’ll have to think of something, first to lure them in and then to stop their escaping.”
The group of commanders rode slowly to the north end and inspected the ground there. The entrance proved as wide as Esk kar had feared, though the walls did pinch in before the opening. Esk kar decided he had no choice. This place would have to do. The Alur Meriki might be here any day and he didn’t have time to search for someplace better.
Esk kar, Gatus, Jalen, Mesilim, and Subutai rode back to the center of the valley, close to the east side, dismounted and sat on the ground in a circle. For two hours the fi ve of them went over their options, taking into consideration the capabilities of the bowmen, the Ur Nammu warriors, the ground, and what they thought the enemy would do. Once they had made their decisions, they spent even longer improving the plan, until each knew where and how they would fight.
While this went on, soldiers and tribesmen rested and watched while their leaders scratched lines in the dirt and argued over their fates.
When the leaders finished planning, no one felt completely satisfied, but nobody could offer any further improvements. Esk kar and his men returned to the south end, where the soldiers waited, tense, waiting to learn their future.
Esk kar looked at them, then raised his voice. “You men wanted to fight, didn’t you? Well, you’ll get a fight to remember, I promise you that. This will be a fight like no other. You’ll obey orders or wish you were never born. And work like slaves if you want to live through this one. Remember that if you want to live!”
With that, the camp burst into activity. Subutai gathered what supplies he needed and took fifteen of the fittest and best mounted warriors.
He had the most dangerous assignment-the bait for the trap. They rode south, back the way they came, planning to swing completely around the entire valley so as not to leave a trail. They would eventually ride north and fi nd the Alur Meriki, let themselves be seen, and lure the enemy into the valley.
Gatus took a work crew of thirty and some digging tools from the farmhouse. They walked along the steep east side, to avoid making tracks down the center of the vale. Meanwhile, Mesilim posted men as lookouts on the valley’s heights to make sure no one surprised them. Another work party took the donkeys and marched out through the south entrance, to gather as much wood as they could find.
For the rest of that day and the next, Esk kar’s men labored and practiced their movements, their archery, and their signals. The lead bowmen marked distances up and down the valley, so the archers would always know the range. The steep sides would negate any wind. Finally everything was ready.
Now all depended on Subutai. Not only did he have to find the Alur Meriki but he had to entice them into the valley, close enough behind him for the plan to work, but not too close for them to discover the trap.
So much could go wrong that Esk kar refused to think about it. Instead he complained about everything the men did, cursing them even as he urged them to work harder. As they sweated, everyone kept an eye on the horizons and hilltops, keeping their weapons close at hand. When all the preparations had been made, they finally rested and tended to their weapons.
The waiting began. Mesilim looked tense as well, shouting at his men over every little annoyance. The Ur Nammu leader worried about his son.
Jalen kept pacing back and forth, certain his choice of the valley would be blamed if anything went wrong. Only Gatus seemed above it all, calmly making sure the men did their tasks properly, saw to their arms, and trained in every spare minute.
At midmorning the next day, one of the sentries on the north rim gave a shout. Moments later a rider came into view, galloping an obviously weary mount into the valley. Every eye followed the lone horseman. Sweat covered his mount’s sides as he rode straight down the center of the valley until he reached the huts at the south end where Esk kar and Mesilim waited. It was Fashod, sent by Subutai with the news.
Dismounting, Fashod spoke so quickly to Mesilim that Esk kar had trouble understanding. Finally Mesilim turned to the waiting commanders.
“Subutai found a small scouting party of the Alur Meriki yesterday and ambushed them, letting a few escape. Then he rode west, pretending to hide his trail, before turning south. The main force of the Alur Meriki is following him, and he’s riding slowly as if his horses are tiring. Fashod thinks there are about seventy men in the war party. Subutai will be here in an hour with the Alur Meriki right behind him, if all goes well.”
Esk kar felt the sweat start on his hands but didn’t wipe them on his tunic, a gesture every man would see and understand. Anything could go wrong. The barbarians could catch up with Subutai earlier than expected; they could stop for some unknown reason; or simply turn away and head back toward the river. But now was not the moment to show fear or doubt.
“Then it’s time. Gatus, take command here.” Esk kar looked at Mesilim.
“May the gods smile on us today.”
“I’ll be at your side when the battle begins,” Mesilim answered. He turned to Fashod. “Stay here with Gatus, and make sure when Subutai arrives, he knows where we are and what we do.” With that Mesilim went to his men and, in a few moments, all twenty — two remaining Ur Nammu rode south out of the valley, leaving only Fashod with Gatus and fifty soldiers at the south end. Mesilim had an hour’s ride through the hills to circle the valley and appear at the north end.
Esk kar turned to Jalen. “Start the men moving, and by the gods, they’d better not leave anything behind or forget what they’ve been told.”
Esk kar, Jalen, and fifty bowmen moved north, in single file, hugging the east side of the valley and treading carefully so as not to leave any trace of their passing. For the last two days, everyone avoided trampling the grass in the center of the valley. When the Alur Meriki rode in, they must not see any sign of Esk kar’s men.
Near the north end of the valley, where the walls pinched sharply, Eskkar and each of his men paused long enough to leave their weapons in the deep pit they had carefully created and cunningly concealed.
Then they continued moving, still in single file, exiting the valley’s north entrance and turning to the northeast. The l
ast two men used pieces of brush and took care to remove any trace or scent of their passage.
Three hundred paces from the valley entrance, Esk kar, Jalen, and fifty men packed themselves into a tiny cul — de — sac, sat on the ground shoulder to shoulder, and waited.
One man with good eyes and who could count was assigned as lookout, crouching in some rocks a few paces from their hiding place. Esk kar squatted down in the dirt with his men. The battle smell, that familiar combination of sweat, urine, and feces, soon filled the tiny space, as fifty unarmed men were wedged together in a space little bigger than Esk kar’s workroom.
Weaponless except for a few knives, a child with a sword could probably kill all of them. Esk kar knew this would be the most dangerous part of the trap. He’d decided to stay with the men most exposed to danger, to keep them steady by sharing the risk.
“Riders coming!” The sentry called out softly.
Esk kar pictured Subutai’s men riding into the valley from the north.
They’d be moving slowly, letting the Alur Meriki catch up. He strained to hear them, but there was too much hillside in the way, and Esk kar felt no vibration in the earth.
The men looked edgy, their breathing rapid, waiting the release of energy. Esk kar fought the urge to join the sentry, but there wasn’t much cover, and one man could see as well as ten. The waiting played tricks with his senses. One moment Esk kar could hear nothing, then he fancied he could hear the roar of flames and Subutai’s war cries.
“The barbarians are in sight. They’re moving… they’ve stopped! Keep silent!” the sentry hissed the last words.
The man would be hugging the ground. The men jammed behind Eskkar ceased all movement. No one spoke or made a sound, no stone kicked loose, and each man watched his neighbor closely for a cough or a sneeze that could ruin everything.
The barbarian riders would be little more than three hundred paces from Esk kar’s hiding place. Would the Alur Meriki sense a trap, would they see the men’s hiding place, or spy the sentry? Perhaps their horses would catch their rank smell. He tried to put himself in the mind of their war chief.
The Alur Meriki would see the Ur Nammu had ridden into a tiny valley, one with a small settlement at the far end, a settlement already sending fire and smoke into the sky. The war chief would hear men screaming, others sounding war cries, and would think the Ur Nammu too busy looting and killing to notice that riders had gradually overtaken them from behind.
Take the bait, Esk kar pleaded. You can have your enemy and the loot, too. Just ride in and take it. He heard the sound of horses. The much larger band of Alur Meriki warriors made more noise than Subutai’s smaller party. Then the sounds began to fade, and Esk kar knew the enemy had entered the valley. He saw the excitement in Jalen’s eyes.
The last hoofbeat disappeared. Esk kar remained immobile until the sound of scraping earth announced the sentry at the opening.
“They entered the valley, Captain, like you said they would!” The man’s grin looked like it would split his face in two.
“All of them?” Esk kar asked. “How many were there?”
“I counted seventy — three,” the man whispered, “and they all entered!”
Esk kar leapt to his feet. “Let’s go, men! Keep silent, and run as you’ve never run before!” With that he began racing toward the entrance of the valley, the sentry passing him in a flash and leading the way. Esk kar ran hard, and reached the opening of the gorge just in time to see the Alur Meriki, already more than halfway down the valley, burst into their charge as they launched themselves at what they thought were the unsuspecting Ur Nammu.
At the far end flames and black smoke rose high into the sky as the buildings and corrals burned, stoked by heaps of wood and dried grasses carefully placed under or inside them. In a moment, Gatus and his men would rise from their hiding places and launch the first flight of arrows, though they would wait until the last moment to give Esk kar as much time as possible.
He ran as hard as he could, head down, feet pounding. They had to cover more than a quarter of a mile to reach the weapons cache and arm themselves, and all this must be done before the Alur Meriki spotted them.
In practice, their best runners had covered the distance in the time a man could count to seventy — eight.
This time they ran for their lives and their weapons, and Esk kar’s men kept passing him, Jalen already far ahead, as the younger and faster men easily outpaced their leader. Esk kar cursed himself for being so old and slow. Though for his men, he’d chosen those who could run the fastest.
They had to reach the weapons, arm themselves, and form a battle line across the narrowest part of the valley before the barbarians recognized the snare and escaped back the way they came.
If the plan worked the trap would be considerably smaller than the valley’s full length, maybe small enough to allow Esk kar’s men to support each other when the barbarians hurled all their force at one contingent or the other in an effort to escape.
Esk kar reached the weapons pit at last and found his great sword out and leaning against a rock. Even with his head start, all the men had passed him. The line had already started to form, the men struggling with their equipment as they extended toward the middle of the valley. A gold coin had been promised to the first man to reach that station. The men moved slower now. Each had to carry a sword, bow and quivers, the wooden shield, and a thick staff to support it.
Snatching up his sword, he didn’t bother to buckle it on. He ran toward the valley’s center. He saw the fi rst soldier reach the midpoint of the valley, plant his shield, and notch an arrow. The trap was nearly complete.
A few moments later Esk kar reached the center as Mesilim and his band rode slowly in to complete the line of battle. The Ur Nammu formed into two ranks. The riders, a few feet apart, bows in hand, lances slung across their backs, had determined looks on their faces, prepared to pay back their hated enemy for the killing they’d endured.
Esk kar’s fifty men stretched across two — thirds of the gap. Mesilim and his twenty — two warriors filled the remaining portion.
Gasping for breath, Esk kar stopped a few steps from Mesilim’s horse as the Ur Nammu chief took his place. Esk kar took his first good look down the valley.
The Alur Meriki milled around, trying to understand what happened.
One moment they’d been charging toward a dozen dismounted Ur Nammu raiders. Then a line of men had risen as if by magic from the earth and launched a flight of arrows toward them. In the same instant the looting and burning Ur Nammu had leaped to their horses and launched their own arrows.
The Alur Meriki, taken by surprise, had wheeled their horses and galloped back out of range. Esk kar knew they’d already lost their best chance to escape. If they’d continued with their charge, they would have taken heavy losses but at least some would have broken through Gatus and Subutai’s men.
Esk kar picked out their leader, surrounded by his men as he tried to figure out why the strangers didn’t pursue the attack, why they stood there shouting and cursing and waving their bows, while the Ur Nammu rode back and forth. Esk kar counted thirteen riderless horses scattered among them, attesting to the damage done by the arrows from Gatus’s men.
Those arrows had flown at the Alur Meriki until they stopped and turned, then ceased abruptly. The Subutai’s warriors remained behind Gatus’s bowmen. Those archers, protected from foot to midchest by the heavy shields, propped upright by a stake, waited for the next charge.
As Esk kar watched, one Alur Meriki warrior, shouting and waving his bow, finally reached the side of his chief and pointed toward the north.
The chief looked back the way they had entered and saw a line of men stretching across the narrowest part of the gorge, more Ur Nammu at their side.
The Alur Meriki had ridden into a trap, and now their leader knew it.
Esk kar glanced back down the line and saw that it had fully formed up.
Each man stood two
paces from his neighbor, behind the shield that gave him partial shelter from Alur Meriki arrows. Each man had one quiver on his waist, the other resting on the shield, arrows splayed out for easy grasping. Every man’s sword was thrust into the earth, ready for instant use should the Alur Meriki survive the arrow storm.
Jalen commanded the men closest to the walls, standing behind the line, sword in hand, while Hamati, one of Gatus’s subcommanders, took his position at the center of the bowmen. Hamati would direct the archers’ fire.
Everyone was in place. Everything had gone as planned. Now Esk kar and his men waited. Only one more piece of the plan was needed to make the trap complete.
Hamati, calmly chewing on a blade of grass and with a big smile on his face, walked up to Esk kar. Three water skins had been stored in the hole, and Hamati had just handed off the last of them to the soldiers. Every man would have his fill of water before the fight.
“Well, Captain, they’ve got their water. Now they can piss all they like.”
He squinted down the valley. “I think they’re still in arrow range of Gatus’s men and don’t know it.”
“They’re confused, all right,” Esk kar agreed. “This isn’t how they’re used to fighting, but they’ll make a new plan soon enough. Are the men ready?” A stupid question, and Esk kar regretted the words as soon as he uttered them.
The veteran Hamati had heard a hundred such questions from senior leaders. “They’re ready. And I’ve told them again to aim at the horses.” He smiled at his captain’s worries. “They’ve got confidence now, too, knowing that Gatus stopped them. Don’t worry, we’ll hold them.”
There was movement in the Alur Meriki ranks and their horses began to turn toward Esk kar, a ragged line forming. Their leader had evidently decided to take no more chances with what might lie before him. He’d try to escape the way he came.
Gatus saw the same movement and knew what it meant. Esk kar couldn’t hear the order, but suddenly arrows winged their way toward the barbarians, just within range of the soldiers’ long bows. Mitrac, with his longer and more powerful bow, would be able to reach them easily. Esk kar had left Mitrac with Gatus, thinking the youth would be safer there.