by Sam Barone
The deadly rain fell on the Alur Meriki again, wounding man and beast, throwing the unformed mass into more confusion. One horse went wild with pain, kicking and biting until someone killed it.
The Alur Meriki trotted out of range, but Gatus reacted almost as promptly, moving his men forward fifty paces before they stopped to re-form the line of shields. The Ur Nammu warriors paced their horses right behind.
“Time to get to work, Hamati,” Esk kar said grimly. “They’ve figured it out now.” He walked back to Mesilim. “What will they do next? Your side or mine?”
“Your side,” Mesilim answered without turning his eyes away from the enemy, sitting tall on his saddle blanket, trying to see as much as possible.
“They’ll try to ride right through the center of your men, as far from ours as possible. Now they only seek to break out, and they don’t think your bowmen can stop them. If your men can hold, we’ll break them.”
Something in Mesilim’s voice gave Esk kar a chill. He’d heard that tone before, the battle fury that made men berserk with rage at their enemies.
But he had no time for such thoughts. The Alur Meriki began to move toward the east side of the valley, driving their horses to a gallop as they rode up the slight incline.
“Bows up, full range,” Hamati shouted, using the same words as he had done in a thousand training sessions as he gauged the distance for the first shot. “Aim for the horses. If any get through, use your swords on the horses’ legs.”
The bows were drawn and the shafts held, angled up for long — range shooting.
“Ready!” Hamati’s voice carried up and down the line. “Loose! At will!”
Fifty arrows leapt from the bowstrings, their fall timed to arrive at a distant spot of earth at the same moment the barbarians reached it. The shafts whistled as they burst into the air. The second wave launched less than three seconds later, then another, the volley becoming more jagged as the faster men got off shots a bit quicker than the others.
Men and horses went down, but not many, and the barbarians kept coming. Esk kar saw the soldiers’ bows were at level now, the men firing as fast as they could. The Alur Meriki war cries mixed with the thunder of the horses’ hooves and the earth shook from their impact.
The Alur Meriki had to cover more than half a mile to reach Esk kar’s men, which should take them about the time a man might count to seventy, and they’d be in bowshot for almost half that distance. Automatically, Esk kar counted the volleys. One… two… three. Each volley equaled fifty arrows, all aimed at about sixty warriors. Four… five… six.
Arrows flew both ways. A bowman went down, then another, even as an arrow whistled by Esk kar’s ear. Seven… eight… nine. But the soldiers’ heavy shafts kept finding their marks as the range decreased. Ten… eleven. Horses and riders spilled to the earth, slowing the riders behind them. Orak’s archers had turned the rapid — fi re tactics of the steppes people against them, with even greater efficiency and accuracy.
Esk kar heard Mesilim shout an order and saw the first rank of Ur Nammu riders begin to move. Twelve…
With a shout, Mesilim led ten men in a sweep, curving his line to the left and aiming to strike the Alur Meriki from the flank just before they closed with the bowmen. Mesilim’s men launched arrows as they rode.
At the same time, the second line of Ur Nammu wheeled their horses behind Esk kar’s men to back up the line should any of the Alur Meriki break through.
When the Alur Meriki leader saw the Ur Nammu moving up behind the archers, he knew the line wouldn’t break. Thirteen… fourteen. Then, less than seventy paces from the soldiers, the Alur Meriki warriors started pulling their mounts up, unable to continue in the face of the withering fi re.
Esk kar saw their leader shouting, trying to swing his men to his left, to crash through the open space where the Ur Nammu had been. Instead he found Mesilim and his ten riders smashing into them in a fighting melee.
The remaining Ur Nammu were supposed to wait behind, to cut off any that tried to escape. But seeing their brethren in action before them, they ignored their orders and spurred through the bowmen, knocking soldiers down in their eagerness to reach their enemy.
Their actions forced Orak’s archers to stop shooting, as friend and foe mixed together.
Mesilim’s men and horses were rested and prepared. Their first wave of arrows cut down their foes before they could bring their superior numbers to bear. Then lances and swords were swept up. Esk kar saw Mesilim bring down a horse with his first arrow, then kill a warrior with the second, before the Ur Nammu leader crashed his horse into the Alur Meriki leader’s beast. Esk kar saw Mesilim drop his bow and swing up his lance before he disappeared from sight in the swarm of horses, men, and dust.
Cursing at every god he could think of, Esk kar broke into a run, determined to stop as many as possible from escaping into the now — open gap to his right. Three Alur Meriki did get through, but Hamati had seen the danger and pulled men off the line, turning them to stop this new threat.
They launched their arrows and brought down the men, multiple shafts protruding from horse and rider, before the Alur Meriki could get away.
The surviving attackers had broken off in defeat, turning their horses and heading back to the center of the valley. Esk kar saw Mesilim again.
The Ur Nammu chief clung to his horse’s neck, unable to recall his men.
Blood covered both horse and rider when Esk kar arrived at a run to grasp the halter just as Mesilim started to fall.
Esk kar caught the wounded man and lowered him to the ground. Mesilim’s horse had taken a slash across the neck as well, its eyes wide and stumbling in its gait. Many riderless animals milled about and some of Esk kar’s men began wasting time trying to catch them.
The Ur Nammu jumped down from their horses, surrounding their leader and pushing Esk kar aside in their haste, but in moments they returned to their horses. One of them turned to Esk kar. “Mesilim is dying.
But he orders us to obey you until Subutai says otherwise.”
“Check every horse. No one must escape clinging to a horse’s belly.
Send five men to guard the north entrance and tell them to stay there no matter what. And make sure every Alur Meriki is dead. Thrust a lance into every body.”
Turning his attention back toward the center of the valley, Esk kar saw the retreating barbarians had gotten another surprise. Gatus had moved his men forward at a dead run as soon as the charge began, and now his men formed up two hundred paces closer in. The barbarians found themselves under long range fire from both sides, as Hamati ordered his men fifty paces forward.
They could go no farther. Any greater advance would put them into the widest part of the valley and spread the line too thin. Nevertheless, arrows began to fly from both ends of the valley. The shafts flashed high into the sky before arcing down upon the enemy.
Esk kar caught a glimpse of the Alur Meriki chief. He’d survived Mesilim’s attack but looked wounded. Esk kar took a quick count; only about twenty barbarians remained alive. Gatus moved again, advancing another fifty paces before setting up the new line.
Alur Meriki men and horses, hit at long range by lethal, bronze — tipped arrows, continued to fall. Their chief didn’t have enough men left to break through either side now. He gave another command and his men began racing toward the west wall.
They began to climb, scrambling up the steep sides. The Alur Meriki had to dismount to lead and drive the horses up the slope. The moment they’d started toward the cliff, Ur Nammu from both sides charged, ignoring the soldiers’ arrows still arching over their heads and striking at the fl eeing men.
Esk kar saw horses slip and fall, screaming in pain, men and beasts dying as shafts found their marks, but the Alur Meriki kept climbing, fighting up the rocky slope as they strove to escape the valley. But as the first man reached the top, four Ur Nammu strode to the edge of the cliff and began firing arrows down into the struggling mass.
The few surviving Alur Meriki left alive were helpless. If they let go of the horses, the animals would immediately turn and try to descend.
And they couldn’t shoot a bow with one hand. In moments they were all dead or dying, either from the carefully aimed arrows fi red at close range by the men above, or the storm of missiles from Subutai and his men below. The Ur Nammu had joined together at the base of the hillside to finish the slaughter, some of them jeering at their victims as they handled their bows.
One of Esk kar’s men captured a horse and brought it to his captain.
Esk kar swung onto the back of the wild — eyed animal. Once he had control of the excited brute, he rode deeper into the valley and reached the Ur Nammu as the last body came crashing down the hillside, pushed down by the men descending from the top.
Subutai, blood on his lip and a look of triumph on his face, looked otherwise unharmed. His jubilant men shouted their war cries. He saw Eskkar. Then his eyes went wide as he realized his father was not with him.
“Your father is dying, Subutai.” Esk kar knew no way to soften the news.
Subutai gave a gasp of anger and frustration but said nothing.
Esk kar couldn’t wait. “Subutai, we must check all the bodies, make sure that none are playing dead or hiding in the rocks. We have to count the dead, you understand?”
Subutai took a long time before replying, his face betraying the anger he tried to hold in check. “Take me to him.” Nevertheless, he shouted orders at his men before turning his horse away from the hillside.
The two rode back to where Ur Nammu warriors attended their chief.
Mesilim lay still, either dead or unconscious, so Esk kar left the tribesmen to their grieving and rode off, to make sure Jalen and Hamati sealed the valley and counted the dead. Then he turned and galloped back to Gatus, who followed orders and retreated back to the south end of the valley.
“Gatus, guard the entrance, and keep men at watch along the walls of the canyon.”
Gatus would take care of the details, so Esk kar wheeled the horse around and headed back to the warriors, now bunched around Mesilim’s body. Dismounting, Esk kar found he was still carrying his sword, never having thought to belt the scabbard to his waist, and he’d done nothing with the heavy blade but carry it from place to place.
This time he saw Mesilim had died. Esk kar stood beside the body and offered the warrior prayer to the gods. When he finished, he nodded to Subutai, then withdrew to leave the Ur Nammu to their death rituals. Eskkar had work enough to do.
He started with the Alur Meriki dead, and it took some time before Esk kar felt satisfied, and then only after he’d counted the bodies personally. He ignored the numbers of Jalen and Gatus and demanded all the bodies be gathered at one site to make sure seventy — three dead Alur Meriki lay on the earth. Darkness began to fall, coming earlier in the hill — shaded valley, and the men built a fire. When Esk kar sat down near the fl ames he felt exhausted, as if he’d been fi ghting all day, though he hadn’t raised his sword once.
Someone brought him a wineskin stolen from the farmhouse, and Eskkar drank it gratefully, for once not caring there was only enough for himself, and the men would have to do without.
Gatus had lost only three men, with two more wounded. The men with Esk kar had taken more losses, five dead and four wounded, but with only one or two likely to die. The heavy shields the men had complained about carrying for days had undoubtedly saved lives and prevented wounds.
The Ur Nammu had lost four men and two wounded, all occurring when Mesilim led his men at the barbarians. It was an amazing victory, seventy — three enemy killed, while losing only twelve of their own. Esk kar had never heard of such a battle before, in which a large and powerful force could be defeated so easily and with so few losses.
Normally when men fought, the side with the greater number won unless the other side proved tougher, better armed, or more rested. Here the battle had first been considered weeks before. Then the details of the trap carefully plotted. Esk kar decided more such victories could be achieved with the same forethought, like the way they planned the defense of Orak.
He’d think more about it later.
When Esk kar dropped the empty wineskin to the ground, the soldiers had gathered around the fi re. Those closest to the blaze sat, while the rest stood behind. Almost ninety men waited patiently, wanting to hear what he would say.
A few whispered to one another, but most remained silent. Everyone stared at him and Esk kar saw admiration in their eyes. It took a moment before he understood. Trella’s words came back to him. The men first, Eskkar, build on their loyalty. Remember how much you need them. He must say something to them.
He stood up. Instantly all conversation ceased, and every eye rested on him. Taking a deep breath, Esk kar raised his voice.
“Today we defeated the barbarians in battle. But this was no common clash in the hills. We had to kill all of them. Well, today you men killed seventy — three barbarians and we lost only twelve men. To win, you had to follow your orders exactly and fight bravely. You needed to work together to save each other’s lives. You did that well, and at the same time you proved that the enemy could be beaten with the bow. Now they’ll have no force behind us when they come to Orak, and we’ll beat them there just as we did here. Today, the glory was yours. Today I did nothing but run so slowly that all of my men passed me by.”
They laughed at that, a few calling out comments about Esk kar getting old.
He raised his arm and pointed toward the other fire fifty paces away, where the Ur Nammu sat silently, watching Esk kar speak to his men. “But never forget that we would not have been so lucky without their help.
Some of them died today, including their leader, to help us. For that we must honor them and join them as brothers.”
Esk kar glanced around the ring of men. He could see some eyes glistening with moisture. “Tonight we’ll take many new men into the Hawk Clan. Gatus, Hamati, Jalen… we all observed many men who fought bravely. But each of you stood at your companion’s side, and each of you can speak up about his courage. First, I call out the name of Phrandar, the fleetest runner and the first to reach the battle line, earning a gold coin for his speed. He held the end of the battle line. I ask you, is he Hawk Clan?”
A roar of approval answered his choice. Men shouted out other names.
Then someone began to chant the name “Esk kar!.. Esk kar!.. Esk kar!”
Others took up the cry, until the walls of the valley echoed from the din. It went on for so long he thought their lungs would burst. When they quieted down, the men sat there, looking at him.
Esk kar had never seen such honor given before. Though he’d done little, the soldiers gave him credit for their victory. The men believed in him. More than that, they trusted him to keep them alive. Trella had been right. He no longer needed to fight himself, to prove his valor, to keep their respect. They accepted his leadership, as they trusted him to lead them to future victories. He’d won their loyalty. Now he needed to build on it.
“Soldiers of Orak,” he began, “the Hawk Clan awaits the bravest of the brave. Give me their names!”
Another roar went up into the night. Again they shouted out names, until Gatus stood up and restored order. When they finished, eighteen more men would be entitled to wear the Hawk symbol. And they all swore they’d follow Esk kar into the demon’s pits if he led them.
Esk kar finally slipped away and walked over to Subutai and his men.
They silently mourned their leader, as they watched the soldiers celebrate.
“Subutai,” Esk kar began, “I’ve come to offer my thanks to you a
nd your men. Without your help, we would not have achieved this victory. I also offer my sorrow for Mesilim. He was a great fighter, a brave man who led his people well.”
“You honor my father, and that is good. He died as he wanted-in battle.” Subutai kept his voice strong and clear for all to hear, the voice of a chief. “But you, too, are a great leader, and you’ve led us to a great victory.
Because of this I have declared the Shan Kar of my father satisfied. He gave us the Shan Kar and this victory, but now both are finished. We’ll return to the north from whence we came.”
The moment Subutai had declared the Shan Kar over, Esk kar knew the Ur Nammu would fight no more. Mesilim had made the arrangement to fight with Esk kar, not Subutai, and his son wasn’t bound by oath or duty to abide it. In his heart, Esk kar could not argue with the decision. Too few now to do much damage, the Ur Nammu would be lucky to stay alive.
“I’m glad your Shan Kar is ended. But the friendship between our people will not end. We owe you much, and we’ll remember our debt.”
Esk kar described his plan to begin the march back to Orak in the morning. They’d both bury their dead at first light. Subutai would return with Esk kar to gather the women and children left behind.
Hours passed before everyone finally settled down to sleep. Esk kar felt dog — tired, more from worrying than fi ghting. At last the sentries were posted and the watch established. He was about to wrap himself in his blanket when he heard his name. Turning, he saw Subutai walking through the crowd of soldiers toward him. He started to get up, but Subutai sat down close beside him, their faces close together.
“Esk kar, I would speak with you a moment.” Subutai kept his voice low, and he spoke in his native tongue though the nearest man was ten paces away. “I know what my father promised you, and I’d help you if I can. My men are weary, and need time to rest, and we must regain our lands before another takes them. But I don’t want to leave you as a friend in the morning and find ourselves enemies by night.”