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.”
Corio would not have relished the idea of risking the life of his eldest and ablest son by sending him into a battle. In Eskkar’s eyes, Alcinor had already proved his valor by challenging his father’s decision and risking his life by coming downriver to join the Akkadian forces.
“Then you can take charge of the men. Just tell Grond what you need, and he will inform the commanders. But we must make haste, Alcinor. Your plan seems to be more of a dream now that we’re here than it did in Akkad.”
“It’s no dream, Lord Eskkar. It will work.”
Eskkar still had his doubts, but he gave Alcinor an encouraging smile. “Then your name will surpass your father’s. But I think you’d better start now, and work through the night. We may not have much time.”
G
atus established a camp strong enough to stop any of Razrek’s horsemen from attacking, even if reinforced by soldiers from within Isin. Protected by the river at their backs, the men took their positions facing outward, while the horsemen and archers patrolled the outskirts of the encampment, to make sure no spies from Isin drew close. Eskkar wanted no word of what his men were doing to find its way into Isin. The low hills blocked sight of the camp and its activity from Isin’s walls.
Under Alcinor’s direction, Grond soon had a thousand men stretched out along the river, the shovels distributed among them. Some would dig, others would shift the loosened sand and dirt. Anything that could be used to dig or carry was pressed into service. The sacks used for ballast in the riverboats were utilized. Filled with dirt, they were hauled away, to be emptied and returned to carry another load. Eventually most of them fell apart from the heavy loads, which forced the soldiers to work even harder. Eskkar knew there would be little sleep for any of his men tonight, and plenty of hard labor.
The soldiers complained, of course, loudly and often. They’d marched all day, and had hoped for at least a night of rest. Gatus ignored
their comments. “What would you rather do,” he shouted again and again, “dig or fight?”
Before long, they were shouting back at him. “Fight! We’d rather fight than dig!”
But Gatus had an answer for that, too. “You’ll all be fighting soon enough. Keep digging!”
Day 11
E
skkar watched the work progress until almost midnight. Finally, after Grond’s repeated suggestions, Eskkar took the hint and decided to get some rest. When he woke, the sun was well above the horizon, but he felt as rested as if he’d slept all night.
With a handful of bread, he mounted and rode toward the river. The progress in the ditch surprised him. Working in shifts, the soldiers-turned-diggers had moved an enormous quantity of earth. Grond, who had slept only briefly through the night, professed both Alcinor and himself well satisfied with the men’s labors. Nevertheless, the work continued. There was still much more dirt to be moved. Now as impressed as any of his men, Eskkar decided that this whole scheme might just possibly work.
At midday, Eskkar studied the three men standing before him. Simple farmers, they’d been unlucky enough to be taken prisoner during the march to Isin. All of them showed fear, either on their faces or by their trembling limbs. Eskkar selected the one who trembled the least, and whose eyes showed a hint of steady wits. He moved to stand directly before the man.
“What’s your name?”
“Harno, noble one.”
“Look at me when you speak, Harno. Unlike your Sumerian rulers, I like to see a man’s face when he talks to me, not the top of his head.” Eskkar towered over the man, who appeared to have about thirty seasons. “Do as I say, and you won’t be harmed. I want you to take a message to King Naxos. Tell him I wish to meet him. Tell him to bring his master builder with him, but no others. I will meet him alone, save for my clerk. We’ll meet in the open, halfway between the hills and the walls. Tell him to come at once, if he wishes to save his city. Can you remember all that, Harno?”
“Yes, lord. But if he does not come …”
“You will be safe inside Isin’s walls – at least for a little while.”
“My brother.” Harno gestured toward one of the other captives. “What will happen to him?”
“Ah, your brother. Well, his life will depend on how well you convince Naxos to meet me. Make sure your king knows that there is only this one chance to save his city. Remind him that I gave the same offer to King Naran of Larsa before I destroyed that city. If Naxos fails to meet me, you’ll find your brother floating in the river, without his head. And make sure Naxos brings his master builder with him. That’s as important as the king coming himself.”
“Yes, noble one. I’ll give him the message.”
Eskkar made Harno repeat the message three more times, until he felt certain the man could remember everything Eskkar had said, at least until he reached Isin’s walls. Then he and Grond escorted the man to the edge of the camp.
“Harno, there is something else. I want you to give this to King Naxos as a gift.” Eskkar turned to Grond, who unwrapped a bundle he carried. A lustrous sword, with a carved hilt embedded with jewels, glinted in the sun. “This was the sword of the King of Larsa. He doesn’t need it any more, so I’m giving it to Naxos as a gift. Give it to none but the king. He’ll know what it means.”
Grond rewrapped the sword and handed the weapon to the messenger, whose unsteady hands nearly dropped it. “The sword should convince the guards to take you to the king. Make sure no one takes it away from you. No matter who demands you speak to them, tell your message only to King Naxos. Remember that. Others will try to learn what words you carry. Do not heed them. And call out as you approach the walls, that you bear a message from Eskkar of Akkad for King Naxos. Go!”
Harno, holding the bundle awkwardly with both hands, had to be pushed on his way.
Eskkar and Grond watched the man stumble his way down the hill and break into an unsteady trot toward the city walls.
“Do you think Naxos will come?”
Eskkar shrugged. “Perhaps. He’s a warrior, so he’ll understand what the sword means. I don’t think he’ll be afraid. But he might suspect a trap. If he doesn’t come, he should at least send someone else out to talk to us. Let’s hope some eager subcommander doesn’t force the message from Harno’s lips and twist its meaning. We’ll see soon enough, either way.”
They remained on the crest of the hill until Harno reached the city’s
gate. For a long moment, nothing happened, then one portal of the gate opened a trifle, and Harno disappeared inside the city.
“Well, at least they let him in. I was half expecting they’d riddle him with arrows.”
“Bring my horse, Grond. And tell Alcinor it’s time.”
Eskkar and Alcinor rode down the hill and moved out of bowshot from the crest. They stopped a little less than half a mile from the city’s walls, just out of range of any bows. Eskkar dismounted, tied his horse to a scraggly bush, and sat on a small boulder to wait. The land – part of a grain field – lay empty after the recent harvest. Only a flat expanse of short grass remained. That should make it clear to Naxos that there would be no attempt to capture him.
The sun crawled across the sky, and started its descent. When the rock grew too hard to sit, Eskkar slid to the earth and stretched out his long legs on the ground, with his back to the boulder, and closed his eyes. Alcinor, too nervous to remain in one place, paced back and forth, his eyes wide as he stared at the city, unable to control his excitement.
“Your messenger has been gone a long time, Lord Eskkar. More than enough time for them to hear your message and act on it.”
“He’s a king, Alcinor. He can’t appear to run when someone calls. Besides, the longer he takes, the closer your men get.”
Nevertheless, sun had traveled a good distance across the sky. At last Eskkar decided that Naxos wasn’t coming. He stood and stretched. Just then the gate opened, and twelve men rode out. They rode leisurely toward Eskkar’s position.
He loosened the sword in its scabbard and moved toward his horse. If the men kept coming, he and Alcinor would ride back up the hill. Mitrac and fifty archers waited there, in case they were needed.
But ten of the men halted halfway, while two continued to ride. Eskkar checked the fastening that tethered his mount, then studied the men approaching. One was old and thick-waisted. Even at this distance, Eskkar could see the man’s wispy gray hair floating around a mostly bald pate. Isin’s master builder rode awkwardly on an old brown horse that looked more suited to pulling a plow than to carrying a man.
Naxos rode a rangy red stallion bigger than Eskkar’s. Tall and broad, Naxos wore a bronze helmet and breastplate. Thick legs kept the horse under firm control, and a sword hung from his left hip. He stopped about fifty paces from Eskkar and looked around, taking his time and checking
for any possible ambush. Naxos’s nose, like Eskkar’s, had encountered something solid in his youth. Then Naxos turned his gaze to Alcinor for a few moments, before giving his attention to Eskkar.
Eskkar said nothing. Anything he could say now, any words or assurances, would mean little to Naxos. The sword had brought Isin’s king out from behind his walls, but the man still needed to make up his own mind, and Eskkar knew there was no need to rush him.
Naxos made his decision. He said something to his companion, tapped his horse’s flank, and stepped his horse closer, his master builder following with obvious reluctance. When Naxos halted again, he was only ten paces away.
“You’re Eskkar.”
It wasn’t a question, just a statement.
“I am. You’re as men have described you, Naxos of Isin.”
“What do you have to say?”
“In a moment. Is this your master builder?”
Naxos snorted in disgust. “One of them. The other was too frightened to come. He fell to his knees and couldn’t stop shaking. He thought you would cut out his heart and eat it before his eyes.”
Eskkar grunted. He’d seen such stupidity before. He turned to Alcinor. “Take Isin’s master builder … what is your name?”
The man had to lick his lips and clear his throat before he could get the words out. “Sardos, King Eskkar.” He gave a fearful glance not to Eskkar, but to his king, to see if Naxos approved of the use of Eskkar’s title.
“Well, Sardos of Isin, I want you to go with Alcinor here to the top of the hill. There’s something you need to see. Nothing will happen to you. And when you get there, make sure there are no soldiers lurking about. King Naxos will want to know that.”
Sardos turned to Naxos, licking his lips in fear. “Lord, do I have to go …?”
“Get going, you fool, or I
will
cut your heart out myself. Do you think he’s lured me out of Isin just to take your fool head?”
Alcinor, who appeared almost as nervous as Sardos, gingerly mounted his horse and started trotting up the hill. Naxos slapped the rump of Sardos’s horse, to send him along.
Naxos watched as the two rode slowly up the hill, then turned his gaze to Eskkar. “You know, I’m tempted to kill you right here.” He let his left hand drop to the scabbard of his sword. The weapon would slide easily
when held that way. “Shulgi thinks that killing you would end the war in one stroke.”
Eskkar met Naxos’s gaze. “Don’t you want to hear what I have to say?”
“Your death scream would tell me all I need to know.”
“Bigger and better men than you have tried to take my head.” Eskkar kept his voice calm, with no trace of emotion, as all barbarians did when they faced their foe before battle. “But if you think you’re good enough … think how happy Shulgi would be. I’m sure he would give you a suitable reward. Or perhaps he would be even more satisfied if I killed you. I’m sure I can deal with your successor just as well.”
Naxos tightened his lips at the taunt. Eskkar could see the man considering his chances. He was on horseback, facing a man on foot. It should be easy enough to ride him down, one quick slash of his blade, but … Naxos took his hand off the hilt of his sword.
“Damn you, Eskkar, and damn Shulgi even more! I’ll not do his dirty work for him, at least not yet. What is that old fool doing up there?”
That last was directed toward the top of the hill. Eskkar turned to stare upwards. Alcinor and Sardos had reached the crest, and now the two were exchanging words. Alcinor pointed to the north, moving his hands for emphasis. In a moment Sardos’s high-pitched voice floated down the hill, but not his words. Both men continued talking, and the discussion went on and on. Every few moments, Sardos gestured impatiently. Even Eskkar grew tired of watching them.
“Alcinor is showing your man … Sardos? … how we’re going to destroy Isin. I thought it best to have it explained to a builder who can understand such things. The idea is hard to grasp. I didn’t believe it possible myself, but Alcinor and my other builders kept assuring me it would work.”