Quest for Honour (82 page)

His soldiers cursed and swore at him as they labored, covered with sweat, dust and soot from the fires. Nevertheless, every man took satisfaction in the destruction. Uruk had provided men and supplies to both Sumer and the Tanukhs, and now terror had come upon them.

Just before mid-morning, Hathor swung himself onto his horse, and led his men out of the north gate. The Akkadian cavalry now resembled a vast caravan, with over a hundred captured horses loaded down with loot, the spoils of an entire city. Behind them, they left an empty shell, inhabited only by the dead, and possibly a handful who might have saved themselves by concealing themselves in their hiding holes. Hathor had
even ordered the captured women, some still crying after being raped, driven out of the city. Some would return, but they would find little to sustain them.

The supply animals forced the Akkadians to travel slowly. The horses had a night’s rest, but they were still weary from the great distance they had traveled yesterday. Still, Hathor knew he had to balance his men’s need for rest with the need to keep moving. By now word of his raid would be spreading throughout the land, and every city and village would be scrambling to assemble a force large enough to hunt him down. This deep into enemy territory, anything could happen. Given enough time, the Sumerians could raise enough men to trap him.

Hathor led his men back up the Euphrates, to the place where he had crossed only yesterday. They pitched camp there and set up picket lines. Not only was the crossing a good place to camp, with plenty of fresh water, but they could see a good way in every direction, which meant no enemy could surprise them. Everyone not on guard duty slumped to the ground to fall asleep within moments. Hathor wanted to do the same, but he forced himself to remain awake, letting Klexor and Muta get some rest first. That would ensure that at least one of the senior commanders stayed awake and alert.

When they woke Hathor, the sun was falling toward the horizon.

“Commander, boats are approaching. It must be Yavtar.”

Hathor accepted the soldier’s hand and pulled himself to his feet. By the time he reached the river, six boats were heading for the shore, three of which were Yavtar’s fighting ships. Hathor recognized Maralla, the commander of this little fleet. He stood in the prow of the lead boat, then jumped into the river and splashed his way to where Hathor stood.

“Welcome, Maralla.” Hathor clasped the man’s shoulder.

“Welcome, Hathor. We saw the smoke, and knew Uruk was burning.”

“We were fortunate. They had no idea any Akkadians were within two hundred miles of Uruk.”

“Did you lose many men?

“About twenty dead, and thirty-six wounded. Can you take all of them?”

“Yes, and whatever loot you want us to carry, as soon as we unload the grain, food and arrows.”

“You may need more boats. My men brought plenty of valuables with them. And the horses need the grain. We didn’t have time to take much
food from Uruk. We’ll stay here and rest for a day or two, before moving east.”

“As soon as we’ve exchanged cargoes, I want to be out of here.” Maralla glanced up and down the river, as if expecting a fleet of enemy ships at any moment. “It’s a long haul upriver, and we’ll need to stay off the main branch of the Euphrates until we’re past Lagash. If we row through the night, we may slip past anyone watching for us.”

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

A
fter 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.”

Day 10

E
skkar 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.

Though 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.”