Sam Barone: Conflict of Empires

The binding promise each man swore united them as brothers and pledged their loyalty to Eskkar’s leadership as head of the Hawk Clan. This new force of battle-tested warriors, now joined in bonds of brotherhood, turned out to be Eskkar’s single most important contribution to defeating the barbarian horde. For what brave man could abandon his brother in time of need, or fail his family when danger threatened? The clan linked each man to every other, and promised a haven of safety when advancing age or wounds meant they could no longer fight against Eskkar’s enemies.

As they fought together, the bond between the Hawk Clan grew deeper. Having gained their trust and respect, Eskkar repaid it by making sure his commanders and even his newest recruit knew not only what he intended, but what he was thinking. That knowledge made them confident of his leadership, and established that same trust in each other.

Eskkar’s proven ability not only to fight but to lead men into battle enabled him to rely on simple instructions and to avoid complicated strategies, even in the chaos of battle. With his close commanders, he felt certain they had the ability to carry out his orders, act independently if necessary, and improvise where needed. That closeness made them a unique group of warriors, who not only thought as a band of brothers, but fought as one, too. Almost as important to Eskkar, none of them would hesitate to speak his mind.

“It’s time to decide what we face and what we’re going to do,” Eskkar began. “We’ve been chasing these riders for three days, and still they elude us. Whatever city sent them — Larsa, Sumer, maybe even Isin — needs to be taught a lesson. In these lands, and with a force that large, I’ll wager that these bandits are Sumerians, or at least in their pay.”

The city of Larsa had the most to gain from the border lands, and their history of raiding Akkadian territory went back more than a generation. But Trella had a sufficient number of spies in that city, and Eskkar doubted their king, Naran, could organize such a raid without her agents noticing. Isin, farther to the south and west, had a king bold enough for such an affair, but King Naxos hadn’t launched any raids on Akkad’s lands since he came to power several years ago. That left the city of Sumer, ruled by King Eridu.

“Meanwhile we’re moving further and further south,” Alexar said, “and in another day’s march, we’ll reach the River Sippar. That will put us south of our own border, and into the lands of Sumeria. We don’t have enough food or supplies to go that far south, and if we did, we would need to find some way to get across the river. If these bandits or Sumerians crossed over and took all the boats with them, we’d be trapped on the wrong side of the river, and helpless.”

“No, we can’t go further south,” Eskkar agreed. “We need to finish these invaders off once and for all.” He looked at Mitrac, who commanded twenty of the archers.

“Mitrac, what do you think?” Eskkar always started with the youngest of his commanders. His wife, Trella, had suggested that idea to her husband, so that the youngest would not feel the pressure of contradicting their elders.

“Our men can keep up the chase for another few days. If we can close within bowshot, I don’t care how many men they have. So far, the scouts have seen no sign of longbows. We just need to get within reach, so our bowmen can kill them.”

Klexor, who commanded half the horsemen under Hathor, spoke next. “We can’t get close with their scouts watching our every move. The archers can’t keep up with our horsemen if we try and chase the bandits. I think we need to learn more about them, how many mounted men they have. Maybe we should set a trap tonight for one or two of them. We’d have them by morning. We’d soon find out what they know.”

“Even that might not tell us how many men we’re facing, or what their leader’s plans are,” Drakis said. He commanded twenty archers. “There could be hundreds of soldiers just waiting for us to come within their reach. We move toward them, they fall back, and somehow increase their strength.”

“I agree with Drakis. There must be a large force of archers or soldiers somewhere nearby.” Alexar commanded all of Eskkar’s archers. “Otherwise, the tactics of these men make no sense. Why else would they linger near our force, when they could just ride away?”

Eskkar turned to Grond, his bodyguard. “And what do you think?”

“I think they’re luring us into a trap,” Grond answered without hesitation. A large man, even broader than Eskkar, he’d been a slave in the western desert before reaching Akkad. “Somewhere up ahead, where the ground is favorable for them, they’ll turn on us and attack. We’ve little more than a hundred men. If they strike hard enough and with enough men, we’ll be overwhelmed. You need to find a way to get close to them, and soon.”

All eyes went to Hathor, the last to speak. A few years older than Eskkar’s thirty-two seasons, he was the oldest of Eskkar’s leaders. While all the commanders recognized Hathor’s ability, many of the men and inhabitants of Akkad remembered the past. The sole survivor of the band of despised Egyptians who had seized power in Akkad, Hathor had fought against Akkad’s forces. He’d escaped death first by chance, and then by Lady Trella’s intervention.

“Their horsemen,” Hathor said, “outnumber ours at least two to one. They’re well-armed and mounted on animals as good as our own. Not what you’d expect bandits or raiders to be riding. If we have to engage a force twice our size without support from the archers, it could get very bloody.”

Eskkar started to speak, but Hathor wasn’t finished.

“If we had enough men,” he said, meeting Eskkar’s gaze, “it wouldn’t matter where we fought them. But our enemies have counted our soldiers, and still they remain close by, readying themselves for the battle. So they don’t fear either our numbers or our weapons. If we’re outnumbered, it would be foolish to fight them at a time and place of their choosing. That is the one advantage a smaller force cannot yield. Without a good plan of our own, I say we should retreat, march north toward Akkad for a few days, and send for more men and supplies.”

All the other commanders dropped their eyes. No one wanted to propose an embarrassing retreat, and only someone with Hathor’s experience and proven valor had the strength to make such a suggestion.

Eskkar grunted. “First, let’s make it clear that these men are soldiers under good discipline. That means they’re probably ready for whatever we do, and they won’t be afraid to face us in battle. If we retreat, they won’t just let us go. They’ll nip at our heels all the way back to Akkad if we let them, attacking us at every opportunity. By the time we gather enough men to confront them, the countryside will be ravaged beyond repair, and a whole growing season lost. But Hathor is right. We must not fight on their terms. We must select the time and place of battle, and use it to crush them.”

“And how will we accomplish that trick?” Grond asked.

“We must do what they don’t expect,” Eskkar said. “They’ve made their plans, and they’re waiting for us to advance or retreat. Instead, we must devise something different. The first thing I want to do is stop moving south. Our men are tired from eight days of marching. They need a rest anyway, if they are to fight well. So we’ll stay right where we are tonight and all day tomorrow. The next day, we’ll begin marching back north, and at a good pace, as if we’re afraid to remain this far south any longer.”

He turned to Hathor. “If you were in their place, what would you do in response?”