Sam Barone: Battle For Empire

“You need say nothing.” Petra spoke quicker now, eager to make her argument before Eskkar changed his mind. “All you need do is not make the situation worse. There must be no quarrel that ends in Sargon refusing to acknowledge his role in Akkad’s future. As he grows older, Sargon will realize that you and Lady Trella acted only for his own good. And during that same time, Tashanella will slowly bend Sargon back to your House. In a year or two, no more than three, he will return to Akkad, a dutiful son.”

“And he will be older and wiser, and better prepared to rule Akkad one day.” Roxsanni said. “Meanwhile, I am sure that he will soon be eager to visit his parents and present his wife to Lady Trella.”

Tashanella would make sure of that, especially with these two advising her. Eskkar wished Trella were here, to help deal with these women. But he would have to do the best he could. “And how soon before the first of these visits takes place?”

“A few months, perhaps three or four. Soon Tashanella will be carrying your son’s heir, and she will not want to travel far once she is heavy with child.”

Of course the girl would be pregnant soon, if she weren’t already. He had forgotten about the burning passions of youth. That led to another thought.

“It might be wise,” Eskkar said, almost thinking aloud, “if your daughter Tashanella delivers her first child in Akkad. You both could accompany her for that event.”

“You are indeed as wise as men say, Eskkar of Akkad,” Petra said. “Yes, it would be best for everyone to have the people of Akkad see Sargon’s firstborn as one of their own.”

Eskkar grunted. He hated this kind of plotting and scheming. “And how much of this should I discuss with Subutai? He is, after all, your husband.”

“Our husband has little interest in such things.” Roxsanni waved her hand in the air, as if these matters were beneath her husband’s notice. “He will be satisfied if Tashanella is happy, and if there is a union with Akkad as a result.”

“Then I will be sure not to burden him with these matters.” If Eskkar’s sarcasm affected either of them, they didn’t show it.

“Now let me take you to Sargon’s tent,” Petra said. “I appear to have lost my way. Forgive me. His tent is back in that direction.”

Probably a hundred paces from Subutai’s, Eskkar guessed. Well, after traveling all the way from Akkad, another few steps wouldn’t hurt. He turned and led the way, as a man should, in the direction that Petra indicated. As he walked, Eskkar wondered what Trella was going to think about all this.

“Sargon, your father is coming.” Tashanella’s words interrupted the discussion between Sargon, Garal, and Jennat. As younger warriors, they had little interest in observing the Council of Leaders. Neither Jennat nor Garal was likely to get close enough to hear what the clan leaders had to say.

Instead the two warriors had decided to celebrate Eskkar’s arrival with Sargon. Now they glanced up to see the King of Akkad approaching. Tashanella, after delivering her warning, disappeared into the tent.

Eskkar strode up to the edge of the open space before the tent, where a small campfire would soon be set alight to cook the evening’s meal and to provide light for the warrior and his friends. Eskkar slowed when he saw the tent, more imposing even than Subutai’s.

Two men sat on the ground beside Sargon, a few paces from the tent’s entrance. The tent flap twitched, and Eskkar realized someone was watching him from inside. No other women were nearby, so that would be Subutai’s daughter.

A long stride from the men, Eskkar halted and studied his son. The boy had changed since their parting. Sargon sat relaxed, his back supported by a good sized boulder. He should have risen, to show respect to his father. Eskkar decided to ignore his son’s disrespect. He would not let Sargon set the tone for the meeting.

The other two rose to their feet in deference, suddenly nervous at the arrival of their friend’s father.

Eskkar knew the effect his presence had on strangers. As tall as anyone in the camp, his chest, despite his age, still revealed powerful muscles that bulged beneath his tunic. The scar on his face added to his grim demeanor.

“Sargon.” Eskkar used his son’s name as a greeting. He glanced around the area, then studied Jennat and Garal. “And these are your friends?”

Both men felt the pressure of that gaze. The two young warriors suddenly appeared anxious and awkward. One looked to be not much older than Sargon.

“These are my friends, Father. This is Garal, son of Chinua, and this is Jennat, another of Chinua’s warriors.”

Eskkar smiled at both of them and bowed in acknowledgement. “You are the fearless warriors that rode into the lands of the Alur Meriki with Sargon. I have just learned some of the brave deeds you accomplished. My thanks, and those of my wife, are offered to you both for protecting our son, and for your courage. If there is anything you need from Akkad, you have only to let me know.”

The young men looked flustered. Unused to dealing with men of power, they had expected Sargon’s father to be as grim and angry as Sargon portrayed him. Now Eskkar’s sudden warmth and easy greeting changed their attitude to one of respect.

Eskkar understood their confusion. Both must have known that he was likely to visit his son, and had wanted to be present. But now that Eskkar had arrived, the idea of getting involved in a family matter must have seemed foolhardy.

“It is we who are honored, Lord Eskkar.” It had taken Garal a moment before he could speak. “My father has spoken of you often. He said he learned much from you at the Battle of Isin.”

“I remember your father standing on the back of his horse, riding up and down the battle line, waving his bare ass at the enemy.”

Eskkar laughed at the memory, as vivid today as it was eight years ago. “Until that moment, everyone had felt only the dread of the coming conflict. Chinua’s bravado broke the spell of the enemy’s superior numbers. Soon that deed will be the only one anyone recalls from that battle. His courage, and that of all the other Ur Nammu warriors, helped turn the tide.”

Garal bowed at the words of praise. He turned to Sargon. “I think we should go. You and your father will have much to talk about.”

Jennat muttered something. He, too, bowed to Eskkar before he followed in Garal’s footsteps.

Eskkar acknowledged them both, then watched as they left, both of them glancing back for one last look at the King of Akkad. Then father and son were alone.

“You did well with them, Father. Now my friends will boast about meeting you, and how respectful you were.”

“They may be your friends, but they are allies of Akkad, and as such, they are worthy of more than just my respect.” Eskkar glanced around. “Are you going to invite me to sit down, or must I stand in the presence of my son?”

Sargon sighed. “Sit, Father. Would you leave if I asked you to go?”

By custom, every warrior ruled over his tent and its surroundings.

“Yes, after a time.” Eskkar settled himself on the ground, slipping the heavy sword from over his shoulder and resting it across his knees. He faced his son over the kindling that would soon be the supper fire. “But first, I must do my duty. You have become a man by killing an enemy in battle. For that, your mother and I honor you. And now that you are man, you must be treated as one. Remember that, if you remember nothing else.”

“Then you’ve done your duty,” Sargon said. “If you’ve come to bring me back to Akkad, you can tell Mother that I intend to remain here, as one of Subutai’s warriors. I want nothing more from either of you.”