“If we can guide the course of the war in our favor,” Trella said, “we may help bring victory to our men.” She glanced at each of the women. “What we discuss here must never leave this room. Right now, only Eskkar and Bantor know what we know.”
Uvela nodded in understanding.
“Then we are agreed.” Trella leaned back in her chair. “Tomorrow we will make lists of those traders and merchants who deal with the eastern trade. We want to know everything about them, especially if any seem to be in possession of extra gold, or whose sons are quarreling with their fathers or brothers.”
“That will be a long list.” Uvela shifted in her chair. “What will we do when we discover who they are? Kill them?”
“No, not yet.” Trella’s voice took on a hard tone that few ever heard. “I want to use them. But first you must find them for us, Uvela. Once we know who they are, we will observe them and discover who else is in their pay. Only when we are sure of ourselves will we get rid of them.”
“Meanwhile,” Annok-sur placed her hand on Uvela’s shoulder, “you will start your most trusted informers searching for any foreigners who have moved into Akkad in the last year or two. Strangers and newcomers must also be found and watched. In the coming months, we must learn much not only about our enemy, but what his plans are.”
“All this may take longer than a few months,” Uvela said.
“Yes, but we have time.” Trella took a deep breath. The war had indeed begun. “Just not any to waste. We have much to do, and it must start with you. Find them for us, Uvela. Find them all. After that, we will watch them, and then we will decide their fate.”
5
Four days had passed since Eskkar and the soldiers broke camp at Aratta. The Akkadian force had marched hard every day, moving deeper into the foothills of the Zagros Mountains. A little before noon, under a gray, cloudy sky, Eskkar rode at the head of the column, trailed by his ten Hawk Clan bodyguards. Hathor, Eskkar’s cavalry commander, usually led the way, but the Egyptian horse master had ridden on ahead to check on the forward scouts, and Eskkar had taken the lead position.
As he reached the crest of a higher than usual hill, Eskkar held up his hand. His guards, riding in a column of twos, halted, grateful for the rest whatever the reason. The remainder of the force continued up the slope.
An eagle’s view lay before Eskkar, and his eyes swept the countryside around him. To his left rose the base of the mountains, an impassable wall of gray and red-hued rock that towered like a giant over the tiny figures of men. The higher peaks carried caps of snow, most of which would not melt even by the end of summer.
To his right, the empty southern lands lay bare, except for the long tendrils of rock and earth that stretched into the horizon, gradually diminishing in size. He gazed out over a vast panorama of rugged country. This high up in the foothills, Eskkar guessed he could see eight or ten miles.
He recognized the landmarks. The army had traveled as far north as possible. Now the men of Akkad would follow the foothills eastward, until they reached the tiny stream called Khenmet. That destination, though, still lay almost fifty miles east of them.
From this spot forward, the army would be crossing over a long series of ridges and steep hills that extended downward from the Zagros Mountains, like the spread fingers on a man’s hand. Between each finger of rock lay mostly bare land, sprinkled with wild grass that disappeared with the next climb. Marching across these spurs, both man and beast would be put to the test by the earth gods.
Satisfied that no danger appeared close by, Eskkar twisted on his horse to study his soldiers. The first half of the column was comprised of spearmen, archers, and slingers, all marching in dogged silence as they fought the hilly slope. Behind them rode the double column of horsemen who brought up the rear.
Every man wore the linen tunic Trella’s supply clerks had issued. Sand colored, the thick cloth provided warmth while leaving the arms unencumbered and lower legs bare. A wide leather belt that could be laced tight to support the weight of a sword and knife circled each soldier’s waist, and sturdy brown sandals protected their feet. Though they had marched a long way, the men displayed little signs of weariness. Months of strenuous training now proved its worth.
The formation showed the importance Eskkar assigned to those who fought on foot. In the event of an ambush by barbarians, the horsemen would charge forward in response. If the enemy attacked from the rear, Muta could wheel his horsemen around in time to face any assault, while archers and slingers provided additional support. On either flank, outriders guarded the twisting line of men and horses.
Since leaving Aratta, each day’s journey had challenged every man in the army, and pushed both men and horses to their limit. Still, the march had proceeded smoothly, though slower than Eskkar expected. By his calculation, they were at least half a day behind schedule. So far they’d seen no sign of the enemy.
Today the weather gods had seen fit to bless their journey. Except for a brief rain that slowed them down two days ago, Eskkar’s army had made good progress. Now cool winds blew down the slopes, and the flinty snow-capped mountains wreathed in dirty-white clouds threatened to ignore the pale green signs of spring and send one last storm upon them. Tonight the men would huddle close together for warmth, wrapped in their blankets.
The terrain they’d traversed slowed the soldiers’ progress. Under those conditions, the four hundred men on foot kept to a pace almost as well as their mounted companions, often forced to dismount and lead their horses. At the end of each day’s march, every soldier, mounted or walking, dropped wearily to the ground. Legs and feet suffered the most, but many complained about sore backs from carrying the equipment and supplies Eskkar and the other commanders insisted on.
Despite the best efforts of his men, Eskkar fretted at the time lost on the march. And from this point forward, the ground would be even more inhospitable.
A shout turned his head back toward the east. Two horsemen, scouts ranging ahead of the main force, had raced over the top of the next hill. From the riders’ rapid pace, Eskkar decided the chance of good news to be slim. As they drew closer, Eskkar recognized Hathor.
The tall Egyptian must have something of importance to relate, otherwise he would have stayed with the lead scouts. At last the cavalry commander arrived, his big warhorse breathing hard from the steep climb up to where Eskkar waited.
“I think we’ve been spotted.” Hathor guided his horse alongside Eskkar’s, so the two men faced each other, their knees almost touching. “We saw at least twenty barbarians, moving to the south, less than two miles away. They saw us at the same time, so there was no use trying to hide. We turned back at once, and I’m sure they’re following our tracks.”
Hathor and ten riders would be no match for twenty barbarian warriors, not in open country.
“Damn the luck.” If Eskkar’s main force had made better time, say covered another fifteen or twenty miles, being observed by the enemy wouldn’t have mattered. The army would be close enough to the stream to reach it ahead of any Alur Meriki force.
Now the situation could be reversed, with the Akkadians caught short of the stream and needing water. Eskkar noticed Hathor’s grim jaw. His horse commander had come to the same conclusions.
“What will the barbarian scouts do?”
Eskkar frowned. “I’m not sure. It depends. . it depends on too many things. How many men they have, what their orders are, how good their leader is, how large a force they think we might have.”