Each man would walk his horse a full half mile before mounting and waiting for the rest of the men to join up. When all the riders assembled, they would pace their horses at a slow step for another mile before turning north.
The last of them disappeared from sight, and nothing remained for Eskkar to do except wait. He didn’t expect Ninazu to launch an attack tonight, but Eskkar wanted his remaining men alert and ready just in case.
The moon had risen late and progressed steadily across the starry sky.
The scouts stationed between the camp and the village came in at regular intervals, all reporting no activity from Bisitun’s defenders. Eskkar paced back and forth, checking with the men as he went, urging them to stay vigilant. Time seemed to slow the moon’s journey across the night, and he thought morning would never come.
A few moments before dawn, the sound of hoofbeats came from the south. Though expected, the sentries gave the challenge. Sisuthros called out his name in a loud voice, though the approaching horses slowed to a walk a hundred paces from the camp. Eskkar gave the word, and soldiers lit torches that revealed a smiling Sisuthros leading his horse back into the encampment.
As Sisuthros and the others passed in, Eskkar grasped him by the arm and pulled him aside. “Did it go well? We heard nothing from here.”
Sisuthros’s grin turned into a laugh. “Yes, Captain, it went well. They never heard a thing. If we had more men, we could have forced our way in by the river. I’ll wager they don’t notice anything until well after sunup.”
“You mean they saw nothing? And the men? All went according to plan?” By now, everyone pressed round Sisuthros and his band, who came in laughing and swaggering, pleased with themselves and the ease of their mission. “Tell us what happened.”
“We walked the horses, until we were out of earshot, then rode to the northern part of the river.” Men jostled each other to hear Sisuthros’s words, every one eager to learn about the first action against Bisitun. “I sent the rest of the riders, with all the horses, downstream of the village, telling them to swing wide of the encampment. My men and I boarded the boats with no problems.”
The scouts had found a farm a few miles upriver that possessed two small boats, probably used mainly for fishing, but each large enough to carry a few men. No doubt by now the puzzled farmer wondered who had stolen his vessels.
“We let the boats drift downstream,” Sisuthros went on. “Just before we reached Bisitun, four men from each boat slipped into the water and clung to the boat’s sides.”
Sisuthros had chosen only strong swimmers for this raid, men who stood ready to trust themselves to the river’s current to carry them to safety, if need be.
“We drifted in among the vessels at the rear of the village,” Sisuthros continued. “We untied or cut the ropes mooring all the boats there, and shoved them well out into the current. It didn’t take long, and we stood by in the boats to carry the men off as soon as someone raised the alarm.”
“We heard no outcry here, Sisuthros,” Eskkar said.
“No one gave the alarm. We could see guards walking the palisade, but they noticed nothing, and no one raised a cry. The sound of the river must have muffled the noise.”
“The guards were that lax in their duties?” Eskkar couldn’t believe it.
“They never saw you at all?”
“No. We made certain the current took all the boats downstream.
Then, with our men again clinging to the sides of their boats, we followed, making sure none of the boats had grounded. A mile downriver, we found our men and horses waiting, and rode back.”
“Well done, Sisuthros! You’re sure you cut all the boats loose?”
“Every one. We gave the river gods many offerings, for whatever gods and fortunate farmers live downstream!”
Everyone laughed. Sisuthros had to repeat his story in more detail, his men adding their own actions. By the time he finished, the torches had gone out, and the sun climbed above the horizon in the eastern sky.
Eskkar, a smile on his face for the first time in many hours, ordered the men to get some food and rest, while he sat atop the rampart and watched the village.
So far, the plan that he had fi rst sketched out in his mind back in Dilgarth continued to progress smoothly. When he’d learned the size of Ninazu’s force, he had known that, even though he could probably take the village by direct assault, he would lose far too many men in the process.
No, he knew he needed to capture Bisitun quickly, and with a minimum of casualties to his valuable men. Besides, he needed the village and its inhabitants as intact as possible. Now, in less than two days and thanks to Sisuthros’s well-executed raid, Eskkar had bottled Ninazu’s men in the village.
Now the next part of the plan would begin. Ninazu and his men would have plenty to worry about. They’d seen firsthand that they faced a disciplined force, real soldiers who could throw up a fortified camp in less than a day. The threat of reinforcements coming soon would make some of them think about moving on.
With all the boats gone, Ninazu’s quick escape across the river would be greatly reduced. At this time of the year, a strong horse, ridden by a good rider who could swim himself if necessary, might make it across. But that rider couldn’t carry much loot, and Eskkar was willing to wager that if ten good men attempted it, three or four would likely drown.
So Ninazu would have to fight or run, before his own men began to slip away. Not that Eskkar wanted them to run. He didn’t want them plundering up and down the river for the next few weeks, with his Akkadians wasting their days in pursuit. He wanted most of the bandits dead, and the rest as slave labor to rebuild Bisitun.
The village shone in the morning light, as the sun moved ever higher in the sky, and Eskkar fancied he saw fewer defenders than yesterday. Everyone inside Bisitun would know about the loss of the boats, and worry, if not fear or panic, would start taking its toll. Some would be thinking about escape. The more they thought about escaping, the less willing they would be to fight. Eskkar decided to apply more pressure.
He turned back to the encampment and found Grond waiting there, a few steps behind him. “Grond, get the men on their horses. Send ten riders and ten archers to each side of the encampment. If any in the village want to make a run for it, make sure they have to fight their way out. I don’t want anyone going in or out of Bisitun.”
Grond relayed the orders to Hamati and the other men. It took only a few minutes to get the forty men chosen something to eat, and send them on their way. When they reached their positions, each detachment would block any escape attempt by anyone, on foot or mounted, to pass through Bisitun’s back gate, and follow the river to safety.
Of course if the defenders came out in strength on either side, then the situation would change. But they talked about even that possibility.
While the full force of the bandits could certainly ride through twenty men, it might take some time, and with enough time, the rest of the Akkadians from the main camp might catch them with their backs against the river.
What Eskkar thought more likely was that a hundred men would burst out of the front gate, and attempt to ride right through, or around, the encampment. He now had only thirty-two fighting men, plus the scribes, boys, and liverymen remaining to defend the camp. Eskkar had stretched his forces very thin, but he needed to act as if he had the upper hand. As soon as the men in the camp finished their meal, he had them ready their weapons and stand to their posts. With his men in place, he returned to the embankment and watched the palisade.
Once again, the man with the silver bracelets stood there, studying the Akkadians, and undoubtedly making plans of his own. Nevertheless, the loss of Ninazu’s boats changed the situation, and now the ground outside the palisade, with its tumbled-down houses, worked to Eskkar’s advantage.