Sam Barone: Empire Rising

Eskkar turned his gaze back toward the city. His city. He could make out the scars on the walls from the thousands of arrows launched against them. Even today, almost two months after the barbarians had departed, men still labored on Akkad’s repairs. So much had been destroyed, but the city and its people had survived. Most of them, Eskkar remembered so-berly. Many good and brave men had died in its defense. He took comfort in knowing that the bodies of his soldiers had received the proper rites, and their phantoms would not be condemned to wander in the darkness.

Eskkar shook the black thoughts from his head. Better to think of the future than the past. “We’d best be on our way, Grond. Half the day’s passed, and we’ve a long way to travel.”

They wheeled their horses away from Akkad and rode down the slope.

The horses wanted to stretch their legs as much as their masters, and the two men soon caught up to the rear of the soldiers. Once there, however, Eskkar slowed his mount, to ride behind the column instead of at its head, as was the usual custom. From the rear, he could observe the men, see how they marched, even encourage them if need be. One lesson Eskkar had grasped very well in the last year’s training and fighting was that he needed his soldiers’ loyalty as much as their skill.

Aware of his gaze, the soldiers at the rear of the column straightened up and quickened their pace. Eskkar knew the new men thought him a legend, the fierce warrior who had defeated the mighty Alur Meriki.

The more experienced veterans knew better. They understood exactly how close they’d come to being overwhelmed by the barbarians. These recent recruits needed to master the trade of soldiering. They’d better learn quickly, Eskkar thought. They might be fighting for their lives in a week or two.

“What do you think of the men?” Eskkar said, glancing at his companion. Grond had been a slave in a distant land to the west before coming to Akkad. He’d fought well during the siege and earned the rank of subcommander, but now he filled the role of Eskkar’s bodyguard and friend. A big man, nearly as tall as his Captain, Grond stood even wider across the shoulders, with massive arms that, not too long ago, had carried Eskkar to safety as easily as one might carry a child. In the last few months, the former slave had saved Eskkar’s life more than once.

Grond took his time before replying. “They’ll do, I suppose. But you should have brought more veterans, Captain. Seventy isn’t going to be enough to reclaim a hundred and fifty miles of rough country, not with almost half of the men newly trained.”

Eskkar didn’t want to start that argument again, especially when he’d insisted enough seasoned men must stay behind to guard the walls and patrol the land to the south. He didn’t think the barbarian horde that attacked Akkad would return, but Eskkar had too much respect for their fighting abilities and their hatred of defeat to take any chances.

“All we’ll be doing is chasing after stray bandits and looters, Grond. It’s not as if we’ll be facing hardened warriors in a pitched battle. Besides, the recruits need battle experience, and this is the best way to get it.”

In addition to the soldiers, the column included a dozen camp boys to act as servants to those who could afford to feed them. Five liverymen looked after the fifteen pack animals and the twenty horses, and three younger sons from Akkad’s leading merchants represented their father’s trading interests. They would help reestablish local trade wherever possible. Akkad’s ruling council had also assigned two scribes to help Eskkar.

They would record anything of interest and keep track of any goods or loot Eskkar and his men might acquire.

He hadn’t wanted to take the scribes, but the elders had insisted. How else, they had asked, could everything be accounted for? Eskkar had looked across the table at Trella, saw her nod her head, and gave in. Now he wondered if he had enough soldiers. It seemed such a small force to establish control of all the villages and farms north of Akkad.

“Did you hear anything more about Dilgarth?” Grond said, changing the subject.

“Another trader arrived just before sunset yesterday,” Eskkar said. “He claimed he saw other wayfarers being robbed near the village. There may be several bands of thieves attacking and robbing travelers on the road between here and Dilgarth.”

The small village of Dilgarth lay more than forty miles north of Akkad. Eskkar planned to pass through the place on their way to Bisitun, a much larger village that was his main destination. He intended to sweep the land clear of bandits and marauders between Akkad and Bisitun, to protect the hundreds of farmers and herders who produced the food that Akkad and its busy traders depended upon.

“Well, we should be able to finish off a handful of robbers easily enough,” Grond said.

“Yes, after fighting the barbarians, a few bandits shouldn’t present any problems,” Eskkar said. “And once we’ve taken control of the land around Bisitun, the countryside should start settling down.”

“I hope they brew some decent ale in Bisitun,” Grond said. “I’m thirsty already.”

“They do,” Eskkar said with a laugh. “Just don’t try and drink it all.”

The soldiers made good time that first day, the men glad to stretch their legs, out of the city and into the fresh air that already bore a hint of the autumn’s coming coolness. By the time they made their first camp, Eskkar relaxed enough to smile and joke with his men, enjoying the freedom of the trail and putting all thoughts of Akkad and its intrigues behind him.

In his heart, he felt glad to be away, free to be himself without worrying about what some merchant or tradesman would think about him.

For the last few months, he’d struggled with his changing role. No longer merely a soldier defending the village, Eskkar now had to rule nearly three thousand people, all of them demanding immediate attention to their particular problem. Nothing in his years of wandering had prepared him for such responsibility. Even with Trella’s help, the weight of constant decision-making strained his patience. Unlike the preparation for the siege, when he could just make military decisions, now every conflict-ing claim seemed to require endless hours of discussion, which invariably turned into arguing and complaining that left neither side satisfied.

Eskkar had believed he could deal with his new position, but in the last few weeks, doubt had crept in, and he found himself growing more and more irritable and short-tempered. And that, he realized, made dealing with everyone even more difficult. So he felt glad to put down that mantle, even temporarily, and deal with something familiar-like ridding the land of thieves and murderers.

Out here in the countryside, among his men, he could be a soldier once again. That satisfaction, combined with the fresh air, the rough-cooked food, and the tiredness from walking and riding all day, let him enjoy a good night’s sleep for the first time in weeks.

The next morning Eskkar rose before dawn, happy that his body remembered the old ways. He demanded the soldiers be on their way an hour after sunup, and threatened to leave anyone and anything behind that wasn’t ready. The men had scarcely enough time to eat a hasty meal, care for the animals, and pack their goods before the march resumed. Almost immediately, complaints of sore feet and tired muscles rang out as they continued their way north, still following the east bank of the great river Tigris.

Today Eskkar ranged ahead of the main group, accompanied by Grond and six of his horsemen. They rode more toward the east, away from the river and into the countryside. Eskkar wanted to see for himself the devastation the barbarians had caused. Everywhere the scattered homes and fields lay barren, the crops burned. The grass had just started to return, having first been burnt by the villagers to deny food and fod-der to the approaching enemy, and then the fresh growth overgrazed by the barbarian herds. This winter’s harvest would be small. Still, the farmers considered themselves fortunate. At least they’d have a chance to get enough of the precious and carefully preserved seeds planted in time for next season.