They ate without leaving their positions, hunks of dry sausage washed down with water scooped directly from the river. Bread completed the meal. Yavtar slowed the boat and waited until all the other craft had caught up with his. After checking with the other shipmasters, he shouted out some incomprehensible orders about how much faster they would travel today, his voice booming over the river. He ordered the sail raised, and the men back to their paddles.
Eskkar scarcely noticed the extra effort demanded by Yavtar, but the boat moved much more rapidly. The morning sun brought a slight but steady breeze from the east, so they quartered the sail in the wind’s direction, and that alone would have kept them going at a good pace. With six men working the oars, the boat appeared to move twice as fast as yesterday afternoon, the water curling noisily from its prow. He asked Yavtar about their speed, wondering if they could move even faster.
“Not likely, lord,” Yavtar answered, sitting back in the stern with the steering oar under his arm. “Everyone will be tired enough by the end of the day at this pace, I promise you. Better pray the gods don’t shift the wind any further, or it will hold us back instead of pushing us along.”
To keep his mind occupied, Eskkar studied the wind, noticing how Yavtar’s sailor kept adjusting the sail to meet the breeze. By noon, Eskkar thought he had the knack of it, and could have handled the sail himself, even without Yavtar’s orders.
The midday sun slackened the wind. Yavtar began eying the riverbank, searching for landmarks, until he found what he sought. A small island appeared near the west bank, with two poplar trees growing on it. Yavtar turned his rudder and put the boat directly into a sand spit that hissed beneath Eskkar as the boat ground to halt. The sudden cessation of movement felt unnatural after being in constant motion for over a day. Before Eskkar could question the delay, Yavtar spoke.
“We’ll rest here while I check the other boats, and rearrange our cargo.
We can all stretch our legs.”
One by one, the other boats beached themselves on the soft sand as they pulled alongside Yavtar’s craft. As soon as the men settled onshore, Yavtar called the boat captains together and spoke with each of them.
When he finished, the boatmen went into the water, checking the hulls for leaks, tipping each craft from one side to the other to inspect all they could see. Afterward, Yavtar made sure each boat captain had what he needed, and understood his orders.
As soon as his men had checked the boats and made any needed repairs, Yavtar ordered the food unpacked. The constant labor in the fresh air had given all of them a huge appetite, and they devoured nearly half their food. After they fi nished eating, they had to wait until the sailors rearranged the goods and weapons, lashing everything securely. Only then did the soldiers climb back aboard the boats, to take their carefully arranged positions. With a single grunt, Yavtar ordered them downstream.
“We’ve had our big meal for the day, lord,” Yavtar said a little later, still chewing on a piece of bread. “Supper tonight will be day-old bread as we row, and we’ll try to keep this pace.”
“How far have we come, Yavtar?” Eskkar asked.
“Farther than I thought we could. Your men have strong backs, I’ll say that for them. I always wondered how fast a trip could be made by sailing through the night, but I never thought I’d make such a voyage. Too risky for the cargo.” He laughed at that thought, but then lapsed into silence.
The land on either side of them flowed steadily by, and those on the land took little if any notice of their passage. A handful of farmers paused to stare at them with open mouths, and once some shepherds tending a small flock of sheep ran along the riverbank, calling out greetings and shouting in excitement as the ships glided by. Those on the shore had probably never seen so many boats passing at one time. Nevertheless, except for some women gathering water or washing clothes, not many people labored at the river’s edge. Eskkar tried to see the trail that paralleled the river, but in most locations, it ran nearly half a mile away.
Hopefully, Eskkar told himself, no travelers journeying on horseback would pay much attention to their passage. If someone saw them, by the time the tale could be told, the boats would be far down the Tigris, moving faster than any horse.
They didn’t stop again until dusk. Yavtar used the last of the day’s light to beach his boat once again, this time on the eastern bank. While he inspected the craft, Eskkar checked the casks that held the bowstrings, to make sure the seals looked dry and tight. One of the smaller boats had capsized earlier in the afternoon, after brushing against some rocks; the men had righted it soon enough, and managed to catch up with the others, none the worse for the experience. Other than that, no mishaps had occurred.
“Make sure the men finish the food, Grond,” Eskkar ordered. There’d be plenty to eat at Rebba’s farm. Either that, or they’d be fighting for their lives.
They ate in silence. This time Eskkar and the others forced themselves to swallow as much of the food as they could. They might be fighting before they got to eat again, and only a few loaves of bread remained when the men reboarded the crafts. They hadn’t stopped for longer than needed, and darkness again covered the river as they pushed off. This time Yavtar slackened the pace at the oars a bit. The river narrowed somewhat as they drew closer to Akkad, and the current speeded up. Still, Eskkar felt his arms aching from the constant strain.
They rowed steadily, picking up the pace again when the moon rose and Yavtar raised the sail. The boat captain kept his crewman attending to the sail, ready to drop it to the deck should any problem arise. They rowed for nearly four hours before Yavtar called for another break; this time he moved down the boat to squat next to Eskkar.
“Lord, I think we’re a little more than three hours from Rebba’s jetty.
If nothing goes wrong, you’ll be ashore not long after midnight. That should give you enough time to rest and stretch your limbs.”
“My thanks to you, Yavtar. I still cannot believe we covered so much distance so quickly. It would have taken days on the road to reach Akkad.”
Yavtar’s teeth flashed in the moonlight. “I’ve enjoyed the trip more than you know. I always wanted to race the river, and you’ve given me the chance, and paid me for it as well. In less than two days, we’ve covered nearly a hundred and thirty miles. No man, no river captain has ever accomplished such a thing.”
“You’ve made me think about using the river to move men in the future, Yavtar. I’ll not forget what I’ve seen and learned on this trip.”
The boat captain focused his attention on the river for a few moments, and Eskkar thought the conversation ended.
“Lord Eskkar,” Yavtar said, “when you go ashore, I want to come with you.”
Eskkar blinked in surprise. “I thought you planned to return to Bisitun. We’ll be fighting for our lives at Akkad.”
“I was going to, but I’ve changed my mind.” Yavtar grunted, as if surprised at his own decision. “In my years, I’ve seen more bandits, brigands, robbers, and thieves up and down the length of the Tigris than you could imagine. Sometimes I ferried them from place to place, and I fought them off more than once. But your soldiers are different. I’ve watched you and your men for the last two days. They show no fear, no doubt. They don’t brag about what they’ve done or what they’ll do. They follow your orders without thinking or worrying about the danger.”
“They’re good men,” Eskkar answered, trying to understand the meaning behind Yavtar’s words. “And they’re well trained. Perhaps that is the difference.”