“A good place to camp.” Suijan led his horse over to join Bekka. “My bones are aching. I haven’t ridden so hard for years.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Bekka said, grateful for the interruption to his gloomy thoughts. He slid down from his horse. His back felt stiff as well, and he leaned backward to stretch his muscles. “We’ve both gotten lazy and. .”
A shout announced the arrival of a scout, urging a tired and well-lathered horse down the length of the column. Bekka realized it wasn’t one of his war party, but Unegen, the warrior Bekka had sent ahead to escort Sargon and his companions.
“Chief Bekka.” Unegen slid from his horse and strode over to where the two clan leaders stood.
Bekka frowned. “I thought you were going to stay with the forward scouts.”
“I was, but things are happening too fast. I thought you should know.”
The other clan leaders, Virani and Prandar, had seen Unegen ride in. Now they pushed their way through the gathering crowd, anxious to hear the latest news.
Unegen waited until all the chiefs stood together. “The Ur Nammu have gone to ground. They’ve taken refuge on a hilltop. The invaders, and there may be as many as two thousand, have surrounded the Ur Nammu. We couldn’t be sure of the exact number of the Carchemishi. They keep moving around. Nevertheless, Sargon and his companions broke through the lines last night. I think at least one or two reached the safety of the hilltop, to tell their sarum of our plan.”
“That’s good, then.” Bekka felt relief that the boy hadn’t died, not yet. “We’ll be there sometime tomorrow, probably just after midday.”
Unegen shook his head. “That will probably be too late for the Ur Nammu.” He explained the method that he and Fashod had agreed upon, to signal how long the besiegers could hold out. “They’re out of water by now, have been for a day or two. They’ll attack the Carchemishi at dawn tomorrow.”
Bekka grimaced at the bad news. “And how far away are they?”
“A little less than thirty miles,” Unegen said.
A murmur passed through the warriors at the distance. Bekka felt the eyes of the other clan leaders on him, and the gradual shifting of the warriors as they drew close enough to hear their leaders’ words. The little gathering had suddenly become a war council.
Bekka thought about the thirty miles, and knew it couldn’t be done. The distance was too far to cover before darkness, and the men and horses were already bone tired.
“Chief Bekka,” Unegen broke into his clan leader’s thoughts. “I was hoping you could give me some men to return as soon as possible. If we could make a show of force, we might be able to draw off some of the Carchemishi invaders. Even a hundred warriors could make a difference.”
“The invaders would turn on you fast enough,” Suijan said. “Are you willing to risk your life for these Ur Nammu?”
“No, Chief Suijan, not for them.” Unegen’s voice sounded firm. “But this Sargon seems like one whose life we should try and save. I’m willing to risk it, and perhaps a few others would join me.”
Bekka smiled at his young subcommander. Unwittingly, Unegen had given Bekka the opportunity he needed.
“No, Unegen.” Bekka shook the tiredness from his shoulders and raised his voice so that all the warriors, many of whom had clustered around their leaders, could hear his words. “You cannot return alone or with a handful of men. We will all ride together.”
He glanced up at the sun. “If you guide us, we can make another fifteen miles before it grows too dark. Then we’ll rest as long as we can, before we start to walk the horses. With luck, we’ll reach the battleground by dawn.”
Unegen’s eyes lit up at the prospect. “If we do, we’ll catch them from behind, while all their attention is on the Ur Nammu. And there’s the biggest horse herd I’ve ever seen, just waiting for us.” He described the enemy camp, and told the clan leaders about the horses, and where they were corralled.
Bekka nodded. “Yes, that would work.” He turned to the chiefs. “Pass the word to every man. We’re going to have a long ride, a long walk, and a hard fight when we arrive. Any warrior who cannot keep up, will be left behind, to catch up when he can.”
Even the weariest of the warriors understood the subtle challenge. No man could plead exhaustion and keep his honor, not when his clan chiefs and brother warriors went on ahead to war.
Everyone started talking at once, and Bekka heard many voices supporting Unegen and his plan. Others just called out approval, caught up in the excitement of the moment.
Bekka knew Unegen had done more than rally the warriors. Without Unegen’s riding in and volunteering to go to Sargon’s assistance, Bekka might not have been able to convince the others to go on.
But Unegen had ridden as hard as any man, and now he had unwittingly put all of them in a position where they would have to admit their weakness if they refused to press ahead. Bekka promised himself that Unegen would indeed be a chief some day, and soon. Unegen understood the way of the warrior, and now he’d begun to learn the mysteries of power and command.
And even more important, Unegen had probably just saved his Sarum’s life. Not today, but without a victory, sooner or later Trayack would sway the other chiefs and discontented warriors to his side. If Bekka survived the coming battle, Unegen would find himself a chief.
He put that thought aside. “You’ve done well, Unegen. Now, tell us what to expect when we arrive.”
“It’s time to go, Tashanella.” Sargon was grateful for the darkness that hid the tears in his eyes. He held her close, and felt her body shake from her own emotions, but she made no sound. They’d said their goodbyes much earlier and in private, holding each other through the night.
“Ride with courage.” She leaned back and lifted her face to his. “Fight hard, and stay alive. This will not be our end, my husband.”
He smiled at the tender words, the first time she had uttered them. Earlier in the evening, Sargon had stood before Subutai, and claimed Tashanella as his wife. With a wan smile, her father had placed his hands on Sargon’s shoulders and given his approval. Then Subutai had moved away and resumed his preparations for the coming battle.
Sargon hugged her one more time, then turned away. He didn’t trust himself to look back. He’d wanted to stay at her side, but knew that was not the way of the warrior. Tashanella would have been shocked if he failed in his duty.
She, too, had a lance, and she knew how to use it. Anyone who could hold a weapon would follow the warriors down the slope. Roxsanni and Petra had urged her to follow the men, saying they would stay behind to protect the children.
The women knew it was better to die fighting, rather than wait for the rape and other brutality that would be their fate at the hands of the invaders. Sargon hoped Tashanella would die quickly. His own coming death didn’t worry him. He’d expected to die ever since his father dragged him to these lands.
Now, in the predawn darkness, Sargon formed up with the other warriors. He mounted his horse and took his place at Garal’s side, not far from Jennat and Timmu and the rest of Chinua’s clan.
Sargon found the presence of his friends and trusted companions comforting. They had ridden together, fought together, and endured many hardships. If he had to die, then there could be no better place or time. He held tight to his lance, taking strength from the weapon. Sargon vowed he would not let his friends down.
Fifty paces in front of Sargon, Subutai had massed his own warriors. The Sarum would lead his clan down the slope first, and attack the defenders waiting behind the ditch and stakes the Carchemishi had dug into the base of the hill.
Subutai’s fighters would throw themselves against the enemy fortifications and most would sacrifice their lives in what would likely be a futile assault. Chinua led the second force, and would attempt to break through whatever gap the Ur Nammu Sarum could open.