by Sam Barone
Maralla had come down from the north, bypassing Lagash, but word of his passage would have been dispatched, and no doubt foes would soon be waiting for him on his return. The sooner he got out of Sumeria, the better.
“We’ll be moving out tomorrow as well. One day of rest is all we can risk this far south.”
Hathor gave the orders, and soon the wounded were carried to the shore and handed down into the boats, the men returning with whatever cargo they were handed. It didn’t take long to empty the boats, but it was well past dusk when Maralla and the last of the ships pushed off and headed north, their small sails catching a breeze that helped the rowers.
“I hope they make it,” Klexor said. “It’s a long way home.”
The mention of home brought Cnari back to Hathor’s thoughts. For the first time in his life, Hathor wished he, too, were home. He took a breath and put his wife out of his mind. “Even if they don’t, they’ve fulfilled their task. Our horses will be well fed, the men rested, and we’ve plenty of arrows.”
“Let’s hope we don’t need to use them until we rejoin Eskkar’s forces.”
Day 10
After a day and a night of rest, Hathor’s forces moved out with the dawn. If he were to keep his rendezvous with Eskkar, he had two days to reach Isin, a journey of over one hundred miles. Hathor would have preferred to depart yesterday, but the horses needed rest and a chance to stuff their bellies with grain. It would be of little benefit if either his men or their mounts were unable to fight when they joined Eskkar’s forces.
They traveled light, carrying only enough food for the two-day journey. The water skins stayed empty, as there would be at least a dozen streams to cross between Uruk and Isin. The horses had already devoured all the grain carried on Maralla’s ships, and for the next few days would have to forage as they traveled. To make that easier, Hathor spread his men out over a wide front. He stayed in the center of the line, with Klexor on the right, and Muta commanding on the left. The temptation to burn and kill everything in his path was strong, but he knew he had no time to waste, and so the countryside was spared the worst.
They stopped at midday, after crossing over a small stream.
“I wish we knew how Eskkar is doing.” Klexor had ridden in from the flank.
“We’ll know when we get to Isin.” Hathor had asked himself the same question, but refused to let his men see that he shared their concerns, not even his commanders. If they reached Isin and didn’t find Eskkar waiting, they would probably all end up dead.
“If he’s not there, we’ll have a hard time getting back north.”
“If Eskkar isn’t there, word will still come down the river.” Hathor didn’t really believe it. If Eskkar wasn’t there, it meant he’d been defeated in battle.
“And if we meet Razrek’s cavalry …?”
“Then we’ll have a good fight before we get home.” He clasped his hand on Klexor’s shoulder. The two men had become good friends during the last year, training side by side. “Now we just need to get to Isin. Tell the men to start moving. We’ve still got a long ride ahead of us.”
54
Day 10
Eskkar and his commanders crested a low hill at mid-morning and caught their first glimpse of Isin, less than two miles away. The Akkadian army had approached the city from the north, and as soon as they reached the Euphrates, Yavtar’s boats had joined them.
Like Akkad, Isin nestled in a gentle curve of the river. And, like Akkad, it had three gates. Eskkar had visited this city several years ago, but it was good to match what he remembered against the actual sight. Isin boasted a good anchorage, and he could see a dozen river boats crowded against each other. High walls ringed the city, and a fresh scar in the earth showed that the surrounding ditch had only recently been dug out, expanded and deepened.
“Won’t be easy to get in there,” Gatus said, his eyes scanning the possible field of battle. “Not with the reinforcements they got yesterday.”
Over a thousand horsemen had ridden past Eskkar’s infantry yesterday just after midday. The Sumerians hadn’t bothered to avoid Akkadian scrutiny, and Eskkar frowned when he saw that these men were not the rabble Tanukhs or regular Sumerian cavalry. Shulgi had no doubt sent men to Isin who could be expected to stand and fight.
“It’s not likely Trella’s spies will be able to help us this time.” Eskkar’s eyes told him there would be no easy way into Isin. “They’ll keep a better watch over the walls after what happened at Larsa.”
“Too bad there was no time to dig the tunnel.”
One of the many plans discussed at the war table was the digging of a tunnel under the city’s walls. But such a task proved too daunting for the few men inside Isin working for Trella.
The last report Eskkar had received from Akkad’s spies within Isin was that King Naxos had retained four to five hundred fighting men within the city. With the reinforcements sent by Shulgi, at least fifteen hundred fighting men would be preparing to defend the city.
“I never believed they could dig a tunnel without getting caught,” Eskkar said. “If Shulgi hadn’t sent those horsemen, we could have taken the city, despite the losses. But now, we’d lose too many men, and even then might not break through the defense.”
“Let’s hope that Corio’s plan works.”
The master builder who had erected Akkad’s walls had dispatched his son, Alcinor, to each of the six Sumerian cities last year, ostensibly on trading missions. His “bodyguards” for that journey were veteran soldiers who focused their attention on the forces defending the cities and to the quality and quantity of men and weapons. Alcinor, who already equaled or possibly surpassed his father’s skill as a master builder, had returned with much good information on the Sumerian cities, their strengths and weaknesses, and how and where they could best be attacked. Isin, however, had one feature that made it unique. Taking advantage of that, Alcinor and his father had come up with a dubious plan for taking the city.
In many ways, Isin appeared the strongest of the six cities. Its walls, while not as high or as thick as Akkad’s, stood tall enough to require the construction of ramps for scaling. No easy approaches would provide any cover. Even if it could be taken by direct assault, Eskkar didn’t dare risk losing half his army. King Shulgi would finish them off with ease after that.
“We’ll have to give Corio’s scheme a try. If it fails, we’ll look like bigger fools.” Eskkar took a deep breath and let it out. “Best to get started on the preparations.”
“I don’t think King Naxos will scare too easily.”
The name of the king of Isin always awoke memories in Eskkar. His long travails toward the kingship of Akkad had begun when he had slain a man named Naxos, who had received orders to kill Eskkar from one of the ruling nobles. Trella’s insight had provided Eskkar with enough warning, and Naxos had died with Eskkar’s sword in his belly, a slow and painful death. The death of Naxos precipitated Eskkar’s decision to stay and fight against the barbarians.
Now another man named Naxos ruled in Isin. Unlike merchants such as Eridu or Naran who bought their way into power, Naxos was a true warrior and he had won his kingship by fighting for it. The lands around Isin were some of the most fertile in Sumeria, and never failed to produce good harvests. Palm trees provided shade and numerous streams bordered with willows made irrigating the crops even easier than at Akkad. The people of Isin had grown prosperous in the warmth of the Sumerian sun.
The bountiful land with its warm climate had not made them soft or lazy. Eskkar knew that it was not only the hard lands that bred strong and ferocious fighters. All Isin’s neighbors coveted the land that Isin claimed, and Naxos had built a strong fighting force to keep the other cities at bay. The city’s inhabitants knew that their land and families remained safe only because of the weight of their soldiers’ swords. Some of the strongest and best-trained forces that Shulgi would array against the Akkadians would have come from the levies that Isin provided.
Tho
ugh Eskkar had never mentioned it to anyone except Trella, ten years ago he had briefly fought with the forces of Isin against an invasion from Nippur. His respect for the fighting skills that Naxos possessed was based on that experience. But Eskkar had never crossed paths with Naxos, who had also risen from nothing to assume control of the city. What he had fought so hard to take, Naxos would not relinquish without a hard struggle.
The city’s sentries had spotted Eskkar and his company. The north rampart now thronged with soldiers, and even at this distance Eskkar could see them waving bows and spears in defiance.
Eskkar ignored them. “Let’s get busy, Gatus. We only have two days, possibly three before Shulgi arrives with his army.” He turned his horse aside, and rode back to the camp, Gatus and the others following.
By the time Eskkar reached the river, the last of the seven boats was being unloaded. Grain for the horses, bread and fruit for the men made up the bulk of the cargo, in addition to another three thousand fire-arrows, a hundred torches and twenty jugs of the oil that burns. But Alcinor’s plan required something else, and two of the boats had carried nothing but shovels, six hundred in all.
The men unloading that odd cargo stared at the digging tools with quizzical looks, already spreading rumors about tunneling their way into Isin. Eskkar smiled at the sight. His men would soon have plenty of experience handling a shovel.
“Good morning, Lord Eskkar.”
He turned to find Alcinor standing there. “You came? I thought that your father was sending another to join me.”
Tall and earnest-looking, the young man shook his head. “He wanted to, but I insisted on coming. This is too important to delegate to someone else. It was my idea, and I wanted to be sure it was carried out properly.”
Corio would not have relished the idea of risking the life of his eldest and ablest son by sending him into a battle. In Eskkar’s eyes, Alcinor had already proved his valor by challenging his father’s decision and risking his life by coming downriver to join the Akkadian forces.
“Then you can take charge of the men. Just tell Grond what you need, and he will inform the commanders. But we must make haste, Alcinor. Your plan seems to be more of a dream now that we’re here than it did in Akkad.”
“It’s no dream, Lord Eskkar. It will work.”
Eskkar still had his doubts, but he gave Alcinor an encouraging smile. “Then your name will surpass your father’s. But I think you’d better start now, and work through the night. We may not have much time.”
Gatus established a camp strong enough to stop any of Razrek’s horsemen from attacking, even if reinforced by soldiers from within Isin. Protected by the river at their backs, the men took their positions facing outward, while the horsemen and archers patrolled the outskirts of the encampment, to make sure no spies from Isin drew close. Eskkar wanted no word of what his men were doing to find its way into Isin. The low hills blocked sight of the camp and its activity from Isin’s walls.
Under Alcinor’s direction, Grond soon had a thousand men stretched out along the river, the shovels distributed among them. Some would dig, others would shift the loosened sand and dirt. Anything that could be used to dig or carry was pressed into service. The sacks used for ballast in the riverboats were utilized. Filled with dirt, they were hauled away, to be emptied and returned to carry another load. Eventually most of them fell apart from the heavy loads, which forced the soldiers to work even harder. Eskkar knew there would be little sleep for any of his men tonight, and plenty of hard labor.
The soldiers complained, of course, loudly and often. They’d marched all day, and had hoped for at least a night of rest. Gatus ignored their comments. “What would you rather do,” he shouted again and again, “dig or fight?”
Before long, they were shouting back at him. “Fight! We’d rather fight than dig!”
But Gatus had an answer for that, too. “You’ll all be fighting soon enough. Keep digging!”
Day 11
Eskkar watched the work progress until almost midnight. Finally, after Grond’s repeated suggestions, Eskkar took the hint and decided to get some rest. When he woke, the sun was well above the horizon, but he felt as rested as if he’d slept all night.
With a handful of bread, he mounted and rode toward the river. The progress in the ditch surprised him. Working in shifts, the soldiers-turned-diggers had moved an enormous quantity of earth. Grond, who had slept only briefly through the night, professed both Alcinor and himself well satisfied with the men’s labors. Nevertheless, the work continued. There was still much more dirt to be moved. Now as impressed as any of his men, Eskkar decided that this whole scheme might just possibly work.
At midday, Eskkar studied the three men standing before him. Simple farmers, they’d been unlucky enough to be taken prisoner during the march to Isin. All of them showed fear, either on their faces or by their trembling limbs. Eskkar selected the one who trembled the least, and whose eyes showed a hint of steady wits. He moved to stand directly before the man.
“What’s your name?”
“Harno, noble one.”
“Look at me when you speak, Harno. Unlike your Sumerian rulers, I like to see a man’s face when he talks to me, not the top of his head.” Eskkar towered over the man, who appeared to have about thirty seasons. “Do as I say, and you won’t be harmed. I want you to take a message to King Naxos. Tell him I wish to meet him. Tell him to bring his master builder with him, but no others. I will meet him alone, save for my clerk. We’ll meet in the open, halfway between the hills and the walls. Tell him to come at once, if he wishes to save his city. Can you remember all that, Harno?”
“Yes, lord. But if he does not come …”
“You will be safe inside Isin’s walls – at least for a little while.”
“My brother.” Harno gestured toward one of the other captives. “What will happen to him?”
“Ah, your brother. Well, his life will depend on how well you convince Naxos to meet me. Make sure your king knows that there is only this one chance to save his city. Remind him that I gave the same offer to King Naran of Larsa before I destroyed that city. If Naxos fails to meet me, you’ll find your brother floating in the river, without his head. And make sure Naxos brings his master builder with him. That’s as important as the king coming himself.”
“Yes, noble one. I’ll give him the message.”
Eskkar made Harno repeat the message three more times, until he felt certain the man could remember everything Eskkar had said, at least until he reached Isin’s walls. Then he and Grond escorted the man to the edge of the camp.
“Harno, there is something else. I want you to give this to King Naxos as a gift.” Eskkar turned to Grond, who unwrapped a bundle he carried. A lustrous sword, with a carved hilt embedded with jewels, glinted in the sun. “This was the sword of the King of Larsa. He doesn’t need it any more, so I’m giving it to Naxos as a gift. Give it to none but the king. He’ll know what it means.”
Grond rewrapped the sword and handed the weapon to the messenger, whose unsteady hands nearly dropped it. “The sword should convince the guards to take you to the king. Make sure no one takes it away from you. No matter who demands you speak to them, tell your message only to King Naxos. Remember that. Others will try to learn what words you carry. Do not heed them. And call out as you approach the walls, that you bear a message from Eskkar of Akkad for King Naxos. Go!”
Harno, holding the bundle awkwardly with both hands, had to be pushed on his way.
Eskkar and Grond watched the man stumble his way down the hill and break into an unsteady trot toward the city walls.
“Do you think Naxos will come?”
Eskkar shrugged. “Perhaps. He’s a warrior, so he’ll understand what the sword means. I don’t think he’ll be afraid. But he might suspect a trap. If he doesn’t come, he should at least send someone else out to talk to us. Let’s hope some eager subcommander doesn’t force the message from Harno’s lips and twist its meaning. We
’ll see soon enough, either way.”
They remained on the crest of the hill until Harno reached the city’s gate. For a long moment, nothing happened, then one portal of the gate opened a trifle, and Harno disappeared inside the city.
“Well, at least they let him in. I was half expecting they’d riddle him with arrows.”
“Bring my horse, Grond. And tell Alcinor it’s time.”
Eskkar and Alcinor rode down the hill and moved out of bowshot from the crest. They stopped a little less than half a mile from the city’s walls, just out of range of any bows. Eskkar dismounted, tied his horse to a scraggly bush, and sat on a small boulder to wait. The land – part of a grain field – lay empty after the recent harvest. Only a flat expanse of short grass remained. That should make it clear to Naxos that there would be no attempt to capture him.
The sun crawled across the sky, and started its descent. When the rock grew too hard to sit, Eskkar slid to the earth and stretched out his long legs on the ground, with his back to the boulder, and closed his eyes. Alcinor, too nervous to remain in one place, paced back and forth, his eyes wide as he stared at the city, unable to control his excitement.
“Your messenger has been gone a long time, Lord Eskkar. More than enough time for them to hear your message and act on it.”
“He’s a king, Alcinor. He can’t appear to run when someone calls. Besides, the longer he takes, the closer your men get.”
Nevertheless, sun had traveled a good distance across the sky. At last Eskkar decided that Naxos wasn’t coming. He stood and stretched. Just then the gate opened, and twelve men rode out. They rode leisurely toward Eskkar’s position.
He loosened the sword in its scabbard and moved toward his horse. If the men kept coming, he and Alcinor would ride back up the hill. Mitrac and fifty archers waited there, in case they were needed.
But ten of the men halted halfway, while two continued to ride. Eskkar checked the fastening that tethered his mount, then studied the men approaching. One was old and thick-waisted. Even at this distance, Eskkar could see the man’s wispy gray hair floating around a mostly bald pate. Isin’s master builder rode awkwardly on an old brown horse that looked more suited to pulling a plow than to carrying a man.