by Sam Barone
“Perhaps you would find me more attractive in bed, my king. Your queen would like to please you in many ways.”
His manhood had swelled into a solid rod against the touch of her leg. Shulgi picked her up, carried her into the bedroom, and tossed her onto the bed.
Shanna laughed as she bounced on the mattress, then held her head on one elbow as Shulgi pulled off his tunic. He moved onto the bed and knelt astride her, his staff brushing her lips. With a smooth motion, she lifted her head up and took him in her mouth, her hands reaching around to clutch him firmly.
“Ahhhha,” he gasped, as a wave of pleasure passed through him. “For this… I would kill a dozen men.”
She looked up at him. “You will kill many more than that for me, my king.”
H alf the afternoon had passed before Shulgi and Kushanna once again sat at the table. This time she sat across from him. “We need to talk, Shulgi. At least for awhile.”
“Talk about what?” He still could see her naked in his bed, kneeling on her hands and knees as he entered her from behind, pounding against her soft flesh, while she moaned in delight.
“Talk about the destruction of Akkad.”
That took his mind off her body. “What about Akkad?”
“It will not be easy to defeat this Eskkar and his bowmen. And the walls of Akkad are strong and high. We will need to set many things in motion to destroy him and his city.”
“And what do you suggest? Already Razrek knows that we will need more men.”
“There are many other tasks that we must begin. First, we will need more informers and spies in Sumer and the other cities. In Akkad, Trella has her agents everywhere, and we must do the same. Nothing must happen in any part of Sumeria that we do not know about. The other cities are almost as dangerous to us as Akkad. The more we know about what happens in Larsa and Isin and the others, the better. Then we must dispatch spies to Akkad as well, so that we may learn about Eskkar’s plans and discover the size of his army. When he becomes aware of the threat to his lands, he may even try to strike you down here in Sumer, so we must protect you from that danger as well.”
“All that will cost plenty of gold.”
“Trella spends that gold in Akkad without hesitation, and with no complaints from her husband. Can you do any less? Would you risk your victory over a few gold coins spent to gather information?”
“No, I suppose not. What else must we do?”
“Trella will soon have her agents here in Sumer, if indeed she does not already. We must find them out, and get rid of as many as possible. The longer we can keep our plans a secret, the stronger we will be.”
The idea of Eskkar and Trella spying on him hadn’t occurred to Shulgi, but he didn’t want to admit that. Shanna certainly had her wits about her. “Spend whatever you need,” he said. “Just remember I need all the gold I can get to buy men and weapons.”
“A few more men or swords won’t make that much difference,” she said. “Not if you don’t learn everything about your enemy.”
He sighed. “I suppose you’re right.”
“Good. Then I will start in the morning. You will also need to stockpile weapons, thousands of them, and I think I know how that can be done without anyone noticing, and without spending too much gold.”
“How will you accomplish that little trick?”
“We will buy the weapons from the land of the Indus. Our traders go there now and again. I’m sure those barbarians will be willing to sell us all the swords, knives and spears we want. We can have the traders deliver what we buy to any of the cities, or even the western lands where you’ll be training the men. That way, it will not look as if our craftsmen are working night and day outfitting an army. And perhaps we can establish our own forges in those outlying areas, staffed by slaves, to make weapons for us. That will keep the greedy craftsmen from asking such high prices for their goods.”
Casting bronze swords and other edged blades took both skill and time, as well as plenty of copper and tin. He realized that building an empire might require more than just raising an army. Shulgi poured himself a half cup of wine, then filled the rest with water. “That is a good idea.”
“I have another. If we can manage it, that is. We should try and make contact with the Alur Meriki. Maybe when we’re ready to go to war, we can encourage them to attack Akkad once again.”
“How will that help us? The Alur Meriki are not as strong as they once were. Eskkar can sit behind his wall and slaughter them even easier than he did before.”
“Eskkar will not be there,” Shanna said. “When you destroy Eskkar and his army, you must do it in our lands, or along the border. He must be drawn south, and he must bring all his forces with him. If we can find a way to have the Alur Meriki strike at that time, the city may not have enough men to defend itself. Even if the barbarians fail to capture the city, they can devastate the countryside, burn the crops, even foul the wells. Eskkar’s soldiers will lose heart, and many will want to return to Akkad rather than fight your men. All of this will make your own success when you attack the city easier.”
“If we could get the Alur Meriki… they certainly would like a chance to pay Akkad back for their defeat. And it would cost us almost nothing to encourage them.”
“Meanwhile, you will recruit and train an army of men, thousands of them, more than any man has ever assembled. When you meet Eskkar and his forces, you must not only defeat them, but you must crush them completely. There must be none to escape back to Akkad and defend its walls. You must have an army so vast that no matter what tricks and schemes Eskkar comes up with, you can still destroy him on the battlefield.”
“And how many men will that be?”
“I think you will need twenty thousand soldiers, perhaps more, to defeat him.”
“Twenty thousand! No man has ever raised and commanded such a force. It would take years…”
“No, it must be done in less than two years,” Shanna said firmly. “If we stretch and squeeze every gold coin from every merchant and city in Sumeria, we will just have enough to last that long. If we do not capture Akkad to regain our wealth, we will be ruined, our people starving. And if that happens, the farmers and villagers will rise up against us.”
“But so many men… Eskkar cannot raise a quarter of that number. There aren’t that many men of fighting age in the north.”
“Nevertheless, that’s what you will need to defeat him. He is resourceful, and despite everything we do, Trella and he will soon learn that we are preparing for war. And his soldiers are battle hardened, as Razrek says. They have already fought many battles, which makes them more dangerous. Don’t forget, Eskkar will make his own preparations to defeat us, even as you prepare your men. And that is why he must be drawn to Sumeria and overwhelmed by your soldiers.”
“When will this great battle be fought, my bloodthirsty queen?”
She smiled at the compliment. “In twenty-two months. The crops will be in, the soldiers trained, the weapons delivered, and our people ready. And that will be the best time for the Alur Meriki to strike. If we wait longer than that, the Akkadians will have gathered enough men to march on Sumer.”
“Is that enough time?” The breadth of her plan stunned him, but the thought of commanding twenty thousand men in a battle… he would be remembered for a thousand years. With that many men, he would rule all of Mesopotamia, and possibly even the lands beyond. It would truly be an empire worthy of Sumer, and of himself.
“It will have to be,” Shanna said. “Meanwhile, you must do as Eskkar has done. Train with your soldiers, fight as many battles with the western raiders as you can, make your men have confidence in you and trust your judgment. If the soldiers in your army stand behind you, none of the other cities in Sumeria will dare to disobey your rule. And when the Akkadian soldiers learn of your skills, they will begin to doubt their own leader. They will remember that Eskkar is a barbarian, and that he grows old. When you meet him in battle, he will have at least t
hirty-five seasons, perhaps more. Too old to fight himself, too old to command his army.”
War, as everyone knew, was best left to the very young. Razrek had over thirty seasons, and he had grown soft of late.
“Twenty thousand men,” Shulgi mused. “With so many, I can rule the world.”
“With so many, we can rule the world. The empire of Sumeria will rule the land in every direction.”
“How long have you been planning all this?”
“Since our fool of a father decided he wanted to wage war against Akkad. I sat at his side at every meeting, every war council, every dinner with Razrek, while he planned his pathetic venture. I could have told him he would fail, but, of course, he would not have listened to me. So I used the time to make my own plans, to decide what you and I would do if Eridu were out of the way. I gave thanks to the gods when Eskkar defeated him. If Eridu had won… I still shudder at the thought.”
“With so many soldiers, we will not fail.”
“If you heed my words, my Lord Shulgi, we will not fail. Together we can build an empire, and I can help you rule it. In time, gold, slaves, the most beautiful women, everything in that empire will be yours.”
“Including you, my dear sister.”
“Including me, my dear brother.” She took a deep breath and leaned provocatively toward him. “Am I not worthy to be your queen?”
“More than worthy. Tomorrow I will tell the people that you are to be my bride, their queen.”
“Then, my lord and master, let me thank you again tonight for the honor you will bestow on me.”
20
Ten days after Eskkar’s march with the spearmen, he and Grond splashed their horses across the Tigris. Accompanied by Hathor and twenty horsemen, they departed the northern village of Bisitun and rode to the north-west. The trip had taken months to arrange. Sisuthros, who ruled Bisitun in Akkad’s name, had sent word through his traders that Lord Eskkar wished to meet with the leader of the Ur Nammu. But the clan of steppe warriors had migrated to the west, and it took endless days of often aimless and always dangerous riding to make contact with them. At last a message arrived at Akkad that a time and place to meet had been arranged.
As soon as he received word, Eskkar had dispatched Hathor and a group of horsemen to Bisitun. Only after Hathor’s horsemen had departed Akkad did they learn their true destination. Meanwhile, Eskkar and Grond took passage on one of Yavtar’s ships, and reached Bisitun five days later, where they rejoined Hathor and his men.
After a single night in relative comfort in Bisitun, Eskkar resumed the journey to the north-west. All were mounted on good animals, and each day they covered plenty of ground. After three days of hard riding, they passed into the rugged and mostly empty land of rolling hills and rocky crags. Wild goats watched their progress from the heights, and hawks soared overhead, but they encountered few men. The dry soil made for poor farming, and the ever present danger from bandits or barbarians made the occasional inhabitants wary of strangers.
For Eskkar, the journey provided a chance to forget the troubles and problems of Akkad, and enjoy the pleasure of traveling long distances by horse once again. The clear air, now with a hint of coolness, cleansed the smells of the crowded city from his body. And the trip provided time for Eskkar to grow close to his men, something he did at every opportunity.
“The more men know you,” Trella said to him many times, “the more loyal to your cause they will be.” So he took advantage of these days of riding with the soldiers. They spoke about weapons, horses, women, all the things fighting men had discussed and argued about since the dawn of time.
They remained alert for danger at all times. The land they traversed belonged to no one, though the Ur Nammu rode through these places often. Akkad had established a truce of sorts with the Ur Nammu, and both sides had managed to avoid conflict for over two years. They had fought together twice against the Alur Meriki, and after the final victory, Eskkar had established a small trading settlement north of Bisitun, to facilitate trade with the Ur Nammu.
Twice each year, traders from Akkad and Bisitun met with bands of Ur Nammu. The warriors had plenty of gold, usually taken from the dead bodies of their enemies, for which they had little use, and they needed the tools and higher-quality bronze weapons that the villagers could produce more efficiently. The trade benefited both the horse clan and the Akkadians. But Eskkar knew how fragile such agreements could be. A slur on some warrior’s honor, an insulting glance, a drunken brawl, any incident could trigger an outbreak of raiding and looting along Akkad’s northern border. And right now Eskkar needed an ally, not another problem to distract him from the enemy in the south.
On the afternoon of the third day, the Akkadians saw three riders watching them from a distant hilltop. Eskkar gave the order to halt. The horses could use a brief rest, and the lack of movement, either to attack or flee, evidenced the newcomer’s peaceful intentions.
“Is that them?” Hathor, like most of the horsemen riding with Eskkar, had never encountered any of the steppe warriors before.
“Could be,” Eskkar said, “could be anyone.” He turned to their guide, a leader of ten from Bisitun named Meskalum. “How close are we to the meeting ground?”
Meskalum moved his horse forward to join the leaders. “Not far now, captain. We should be there by sundown.”
Eskkar made the calculation. About ten or twelve more miles, if the guide didn’t miss a landmark and get lost. Even after all these years, he still disliked following someone else’s lead. But he had no choice. No man could master every trail and landmark in such a vast land. “Then it’s not likely there would be any other bands of warriors nearby. Break out the standard.”
Grond pulled the yellow streamer, as long as a man was tall, from his sack. Meskalum fastened it to the tip of his bow. The wind lifted the cloth and sent it billowing.
“Everyone keep your eyes open,” Eskkar said. “It’s an old barbarian trick to keep your attention on one band while another slips up on you from behind. Meskalum, take the point.”
With the guide out front, Eskkar set the pace at an easy canter. He didn’t want to tire the horses, since one never knew if they would be needed to run or fight. And whether they reached the agreed upon place by sundown or not didn’t matter. Meetings like this, arranged so long in advance and through so many intermediaries over great distances, could never be exact as to time. Five, even ten days early or late would be considered normal.
The riders continued the journey and, after a time, the horsemen on the hillside matched their pace and direction. As the sun descended, the two groups of riders began to converge.
“Looks like they know where we’re headed,” Grond observed. He’d fought against men such as these twice before, and had a healthy respect for their fighting skills.
“Let’s hope they’re not getting ready to ambush us,” Hathor said. “All this empty land — no villages or farms — makes me nervous.”
Everyone remained alert, and Eskkar stopped twice more, to study the land and the obvious ambush sites. A little before sundown they topped a hill and saw a meandering stream, bordered with willow trees. Beneath their shade, a thick belt of grass grew down to the water’s edge. Two tents marked a campsite, and the blackened remains of a fire pit showed even from the top of the hill. A small herd of horses, penned in by a rope corral and guarded by a mounted rider, gave Eskkar a quick count of the warriors. He halted the troop once again while he examined the terrain ahead.
“Twenty, maybe,” Grond said, coming to the same conclusion. “Maybe twenty-five, counting the three behind us.”
By then the Akkadians had been spotted by the warriors in the camp. Within moments, a yellow standard fastened to a lance waved at them.
Eskkar grunted in relief. “That’s the Ur Nammu. My thanks to you, Meskalum.” Whether the guide knew the land as well as he claimed, or had just gotten lucky, he deserved a word of praise in front of his companions.
They cant
ered down the hill. The three warriors behind them swung wide around the Akkadians, and raced recklessly toward the camp, their horses flinging clods of dirt high into the air, shouts floating across the land as they urged on their mounts.
Eskkar smiled at the display of horsemanship. In his youth he might have attempted such a ride, but no longer. A rider needed to be astride his mount ten hours a day for years to master that kind of riding. As the Akkadians drew near, a warrior separated from the group and walked toward them. When they approached within fifty paces, Eskkar swung down from his horse.
“Wait here a moment,” he said, then moved toward the approaching warrior.
“Greetings, Subutai, chief of the Ur Nammu.”
“Welcome to our camp, Eskkar of Akkad.”
The two men clasped arms in the way of the warrior, then paced side by side back to the camp. Eskkar waved his men forward. Subutai had marked a place for them about two hundred paces from the tents. The Akkadians would have easy access to the river without getting too close to his own camp.
Eskkar and his men tended to their horses first, making sure the animals were watered in the stream, and the Akkadians used the one rope they had brought with them to make a rough corral of their own, winding the cord around two willow trees and a bush. Not much more was needed to keep the mounts penned in. With plenty of water and grass to eat, they weren’t likely to stray.
With the horses taken care of, Eskkar washed his hands and face in the stream, another gesture of politeness. To meet with a clan chief was a serious matter, and it would not do to appear covered with sweat and dirt. Eskkar drank his fill from the stream, but shook his head at Hathor’s offer of a drink from one of the two wineskins they’d brought with them.
“You’ll come with me, Hathor. By custom, each clan leader brings one subcommander with him, so that there may be no misunderstanding or forgetting of what is said.”
They strode across the grass to the Ur Nammu campsite, where Subutai and another warrior waited for them. Subutai led the way upstream to a small patch of grass a hundred paces from the river. The two leaders sat facing each other. Unlike villagers, who might talk half a day before getting down to business, barbarians preferred to take care of serious matters first.