Bekka picked up the pace, setting his horse to a trot. He guided his warriors toward the south first, angling away from the enemy camp. Bekka wanted to drive the invaders’ herd around the base of the hill, to overrun the ditch the Carchemishi had dug to keep the Ur Nammu warriors trapped on the hill. To accomplish that, his fighters had to approach from the south.
Keeping the horses at a trot, the warriors moved southward. The shift in direction didn’t take long. Soon Bekka, taking his lead from Unegen, turned his horse’s head toward the west and led the way in the direction of the enemy herd. Bekka’s fighters now took their position on him, fanning out on either side.
Ahead, Bekka saw a handful of small fires still burning, and he saw shadows shifting at the base of the plateau. No sentries had yet discovered the Alur Meriki. No doubt every eye was focused on the hill, waiting for the Ur Nammu’s attempt to break out. Meanwhile, no alarms had sounded yet, so Bekka took his time approaching. Behind him, his men drew up alongside, gradually forming a line on either side of their Sarum.
“You’re sure we’re heading toward the horse herd?” Bekka still couldn’t see them.
“Yes, Chief Bekka.” Unegen leaned toward his Sarum as he spoke. “My men confirmed that they bedded down the animals for the night in the same place.”
The warriors had now spread out into a line almost a quarter mile wide, just over eight hundred men moving to the attack.
Unegen marked the distance. “We’ve covered the first mile.”
Bekka nodded. He’d expected the Carchemishi to have discovered his approach by now. Every additional stride forward only gave his warriors more of an advantage. He glanced again over his shoulder and toward the east.
The sky seemed brighter over the eastern plain, as the pitch dark night grew lighter with each moment. Another quarter mile passed, and still no alarm. He’d never expected to draw this close without being spotted.
On both sides, Bekka heard the horses snorting and making noise. They sensed their riders’ excitement. Ahead, he could make out the enemy’s horse herd. Less than half a mile to go. Unegen had spoken the truth — a very large herd.
A few of the Carchemishi horses caught the scent of Bekka’s riders. Their whinnies sounded, giving warning. A handful of Alur Meriki animals responded. The enemy sentries must know something was wrong, but as yet they had no idea of the blow about to be delivered.
Step by step, the makeshift corral drew closer, until it was only a quarter mile ahead. Shouts from the sentries floated through the air, giving the first warning, but the Carchemishi would need time to react and form a battle line, time they did not have. Bekka knew his men wanted to rush forward, but he held the horses to a trot for another hundred paces.
A drum began to beat, a frantic pounding that sounded the alarm. The first rays of the sunlight shot up into the sky, the last of the darkness faded, and a swath of sunlight swept over the land. Up ahead, Bekka glimpsed men scurrying around, but it was far too late to organize any resistance.
He drew his sword and raised it high over his head, letting the rising sun glint off the bronze. Even without any commands, the well-trained warhorses began moving faster, the trot turning into a canter, and then to an easy gallop with little urging from their riders.
Bekka took a deep breath. “Attack!”
The whole line charged forward, as the warriors urged their mounts to their fastest speed. The ground beneath them shook and thundered from the horses’ hooves. The wailing war cry of eight hundred Alur Meriki sounded over the plain, a frightening sound that never failed to strike fear in their enemies. It took only a few heartbeats at the charge to bring his warriors within range of the already nervous herd.
“Let fly! Let fly!”
Bekka heard his order repeated, as the chiefs and leaders of ten drew within long bowshot. Launched from the back of a galloping horse, the shafts would fly almost twice as far.
The first flight of arrows arched high up into the air, aimed directly at the Carchemishi horse herd.
Eight hundred arrows slammed into the herd, far more than necessary to stampede the horses. The entire mass panicked, some driven wild by wounds, others by the scream of dying animals nearby, every one spooked by the pounding charge closing in upon them.
The rope corral collapsed. Guards on the far edge of the herd disappeared under a mass of frightened animals determined to escape an unknown but terrifying enemy. In moments, the panicked Carchemishi horses were at a full gallop with only one thought in their heads, to escape the unknown terror bearing down on them.
As they bolted, the right wing of Bekka’s line loosed another volley of arrows, to turn the herd and keep it as close as possible to the base of the hill. Not only would they overrun the ditch and stakes, but that was where most of the Carchemishi had taken their positions for the night.
More arrows, shot at a dead run, now sought out the mass of men struggling to find their weapons and prepare for battle. With so many invaders bunched together, nearly every shaft struck flesh. Cries of pain rose up into the air, mixing with the shouts of fear and panic that raced through the Carchemishi ranks. The alarm drum, if it still sounded, could no longer be heard over the din.
At this tactic, riding down masses of undisciplined or surprised men, the Alur Meriki had no equal. Arrows shot at close range brought down even more of the enemy, as Bekka’s men followed the bloody path churned by the stampeding horses’ hooves.
Bekka saw the frightened herd swerve to the left around the base of the plateau, the lead animals hurling themselves into the ditch. Some managed to jump the obstacles, but others crashed into the earth on the far side, adding their own wretched cries of panic to the noise of war.
More screams from wounded men and animals rose up into the early morning air. By now many of Bekka’s men had slowed their horses, to fall upon the injured or disoriented men staggering about. Some of his fighters had already exhausted their arrows, so fast had they shot their missiles at the enemy.
The stampeded horses, guided by the warriors on Bekka’s right flank, swept around the base of the hill, trampling everything and everyone in their path. Gaps appeared in the mass of animals, and Bekka could see men running about, all sense of organization lost. Pointing with his sword, he swept his force right at the largest group. Unegen rode at his side, both of them screaming their war cry.
Lances, either flung through the air or thrust downward at those hugging the ground took an even further toll. Swords, ripped from their scabbards, swung down, crunching through shields or upraised blades, and splattering bone and blood into the air. With the speed of the horse added to the rider’s muscles, no one could withstand such a blow.
Now the screams of men, dying or wounded, surpassed the thunder of the horses’ hooves. On foot, most of their weapons gone, and in complete disarray, the Carchemishi were easy prey for the savage warriors. The invaders still outnumbered Bekka’s horsemen, but they had no idea of how many had attacked them. The unending war cries of the Alur Meriki made them sound like twice their number.
Fear and confusion added to the rout. Many of the invaders threw down their weapons and ran. Others dropped to their knees, the sign of surrender, but the Alur Meriki had no time or inclination to take any captives. Some Carchemishi fought to the end. Others ran, only to be run down or hacked to pieces.
33
From the top of the plateau, Subutai had clear view of the Alur Meriki charge. He saw the white faces of the Carchemishi, caught in the rising sun, as they stared at the oncoming wave of horses. Many stood there, rooted to the earth, even as the panic-stricken horses charged toward them. Others ran about, bumping into each other in the confusion. Shouting and pushing, the frightened men searched for any escape.