Battle For Empire

28

Bekka watched Sargon and Fashod, escorted by their guards, disappear into the crowd. A crowd, Bekka noticed, that now seemed more curious than hostile to the young Akkadian and his Ur Nammu companions. The arrogant boy, and Bekka had no doubts that he was indeed Eskkar’s son, had upended the Alur Meriki Council almost as much as his father.

“We need to speak further.” Urgo’s voice broke into his Sarum’s thoughts.

“Oh, yes, we need to talk.” He stood and helped Urgo to his feet. “In my tent.” Bekka glanced at Suijan. “Tell the others to join us.”

The clan leaders reassembled inside Bekka’s tent. His wives had built a small fire, to provide illumination for their leaders. Soon a thin stream of smoke wafted toward the top of the tent. As the chiefs settled into a small circle, no one spoke, each man waiting until the women left. Only when the tent flap closed behind them did the discussion continue.

Trayack’s anger returned unabated. “I say we should kill them all. Take them outside the camp, torture them, and then kill them. Let the Akkadians wonder what happened to them.”

Urgo adjusted his stiff leg until he felt comfortable. “You may want to go to war with Akkad again, but I have had enough of Eskkar and his bowmen. He would find out. There are still enough remnants of the old Hawk Clan who would get word to him.”

“Then let this Sargon whelp and his Ur Nammu scum go.” Trayack’s booming voice filled the tent. “The Carchemishi will kill the boy, and there will be no blame on us.”

“I agree with Trayack.” Bekka’s soft words contrasted with Trayack’s fury. “Best to let them go, and let the gods decide Sargon’s fate. But the question remains. Do we ride to war to help the Ur Nammu?”

“You cannot be thinking of helping that filth.” The fire’s feeble light turned Trayack’s face even redder. “Let them be slaughtered. We can fight off the invaders, if indeed there are any Carchemishi in these lands.”

“You think the Ur Nammu made this up?” Urgo’s temper began to fray under Trayack’s constant complaining. “Something we could discover for ourselves in a few days scouting?”

“I think. .” Bekka paused until he had everyone’s attention, “we should ride to war to help Sargon and the Ur Nammu. I believe Sargon spoke the truth about these Carchemishi and their numbers. We will have to fight them. They are too few to trouble Akkad, but more than enough to do battle with us. Do you think they will return to their master in Carchemish and say that they failed to defeat Akkad? And then admit that they turned away from the Alur Meriki, and that now we are moving toward their lands?”

“I agree with Bekka,” Urgo said, “but for another reason. We gave our oaths as warriors to Eskkar, and that binds us to him until the debt is paid. But if we help his allies and save his eldest son’s life, he will be in our debt. There may come a time when we ask him to repay it.”

Bekka nodded approval. He turned to Suijan. “What do you say?”

“I think we must go to war to help the Ur Nammu.” Suijan rubbed the scar on his left arm, where not long ago an Akkadian arrow had sliced along the bone. “While you and Urgo questioned Sargon, I watched the faces of our people standing behind the boy while he spoke. By the time he finished speaking, most of them agreed with his position. Sargon chose his words with care and skill. Our people will talk of nothing else for days.”

“You should have let me kill him.” Trayack’s hatred sounded plain in his voice. “He spoke with a serpent’s tongue. The fools listening fell for his lies.”

“In that, the boastful boy is like his father,” Urgo said. “Eskkar rode into our camp, challenged everyone he met, won the approval of half our men, and rode out untouched. Now his son has done the same. If we fail to fight now, and the Carchemishi fall on us, Sargon’s words will be remembered.”

Bekka turned to Prandar. “And what about you?”

“On the word of a boy, do we ride against a strong enemy? No! Let the Carchemishi and the Ur Nammu kill each other. When the Ur Nammu are dead, if we must, we can confront the invaders. We will be no worse off.”

“And where will we find food, if the countryside ahead of us is already stripped bare?” Urgo’s voice had returned to its even tone. “We must follow the foothills for many days before we reach the steppes. Do we watch our women and children suffer, to sicken and die from hunger?”

“We can manage to find food somewhere,” Prandar said. “We still have plenty of horses to eat.”

“Is this what the Alur Meriki have become?” Suijan struck his knee with one fist. “We had to leave the eastern lands early, before the Elamites attacked us. Now we must grovel before some dirt eater in Carchemish, so far away that we don’t even know his name?”

“What do you say, Virani?” Bekka, too, kept his voice calm.

“I have spoken much with my warriors since the battle at the stream. They want a chance to prove themselves. Let us ride down and kill these invaders. If we help the Ur Nammu and Akkad at the same time, and place them in our debt, so much the better.”

That was more support than Bekka had hoped for. He’d expected Suijan and Urgo to agree with his decision, and that Trayack and Prandar would refuse to go along. Virani, however, had the respect of many in the camp, and his opinion mattered. Bekka hadn’t been sure of which way Virani would turn. “Trayack?”

“I say we should leave the Ur Nammu and this boy Sargon to their fate,” Trayack said. “If the Carchemishi challenge us, that will be the time to ride against them. I’ll waste none of my men’s lives on Ur Nammu scum. No warrior of mine will ever lift a sword for them.”

But that threat wasn’t as bad as it sounded. Trayack’s Lion Clan, under Thutmose-sin, had suffered heavy losses in the battle at the stream. Trayack had little more than a hundred and twenty or so warriors fit to fight.

Bekka glanced at each man, as if considering their words. But the only thought in his mind was that Trayack had given him the opening Bekka wanted.

“I say we will ride to fight these Carchemishi,” Bekka said. “If that helps the Ur Nammu and even the Akkadians, so be it. Suijan, Virani, and I will lead our warriors, and depart tomorrow at midmorning. Trayack and the Lion Clan will remain behind to protect the caravan. Urgo, I will need your warriors.”

“You may have them. They will be glad to ride with you.”

Bekka turned to Prandar. “You say you do not approve of helping the boy and the Ur Nammu. If that is your decision, you can stay behind with Trayack. Or you can choose to join us.”

Every eye went to Prandar, who suddenly realized the difficult position Bekka had maneuvered him into. If Prandar sided with Trayack on this issue, Prandar would be forever branded with the same mark — that he had remained behind while others rode to war.

Prandar, older and wiser than Trayack, understood what was at stake. Trayack’s hatred of anything that had to do with Akkad was well known. Since the defeat at the stream, much of that hatred had turned toward his new Sarum. If Bekka returned victorious, Prandar’s warriors would lose faith in their leader, and Bekka could remove Prandar from the Council with a wave of his hand.

As for Trayack, the fool didn’t even understand what Bekka would do to him when he returned. So it all depended on whether or not Bekka could win without Prandar and his hundred and seventy warriors.

Bekka kept his gaze on the hesitating chief as the silence lengthened. “What is your decision, Prandar?”

Prandar had one last thought. Bekka did not need to win a fight to the death. Any small victory, even a brief skirmish, would give the new Sarum the authority to solidify his rule over the Council of Chiefs and the Alur Meriki people. And if that happened, Prandar had better be on the winning side. Trayack was a fool after all.

Prandar lifted his gaze to meet his Sarum’s. “My men and I will ride with you, Chief Bekka, to fight the invaders.”

Trayack shook his head and muttered something under his breath.

“Good.” Bekka nodded in approval. “Then it is settled. All of you should return to your men and tell them to prepare for a long ride and a hard fight. The Alur Meriki are going to war.”

“You are a fool, Bekka,” Trayack practically spat the words in his Sarum’s face. “All of you are fools.” His face reflected the rage that burned inside him. Trayack scrambled to his feet and left the tent, almost tearing the flap from its fastenings as he passed outside.

One by one, the others left, until only Urgo remained, facing the Sarum.

“You did well, Bekka.”

“Now all I have to do is win.”

“Yes.” Urgo let out a long sigh. “Winning overcomes all mistakes. But better to risk everything than to live with fools like Trayack and his constant complaining behind your back. Sooner or later, he would have brought you down.” Urgo sighed. “Help me up, my friend.”

Bekka assisted the old man to his feet, and offered to help him to his tent. Urgo protested, but Bekka insisted. “Besides, I want to speak to Sargon, and your tent is on the way.”

Urgo glanced at the man he’d chosen to replace him as Sarum. Urgo had selected Bekka, keen of wit despite his relative youth, and then swung the other clan leaders to agree with the choice. “Be careful what you say to that boy. Every time he speaks, I hear Eskkar and his witch wife talking. And I suspect there is more to Sargon’s story than what he told us.”

“I will take care.” Bekka smiled. “I don’t want him to challenge me. Not yet, at least.”

Sargon had just finished retelling the details of the meeting outside the Sarum’s tent to Garal and Jennat for the second time. Both kept shaking their heads at Sargon’s boldness.

“You’re lucky they didn’t take your head right there,” Jennat said.

“The clan leaders of the Alur Meriki understand power.” Sargon shrugged. “It’s the only thing they respect. My father knew it, too. It was important to act like a leader.”

Fashod nodded. “I wonder what Eskkar will say when he hears of this.”

“That’s the least of our worries now,” Sargon answered. “Let’s just hope they give us some fresh horses and let us go.”

“Do you think they will help us?” Garal couldn’t keep the worry from his voice.

“I don’t know. Nothing showed on their faces. Now that we’re here, it seems doubtful.”

“I will be glad to get back to my family,” Jennat said, “no matter what happens. I wonder what they’re doing.”

A stirring among the men guarding them made Sargon glance up. A warrior had approached the guards, and now spoke with two of them. The ground the Ur Nammu occupied had no campfire, so Sargon couldn’t make out who the stranger was.

“Sargon. Come join me.” Bekka’s voice came from the darkness.

Sargon climbed to his feet and walked toward the shadowy figure. “Chief Bekka.”

“Walk with me,” Bekka said. “I want to talk to you.”

Without waiting for a reply, Bekka turned and strode off in the darkness. Sargon moved quickly in order to not lose sight of the Sarum. They passed through the outer edges of the camp and through some trees before Bekka finally halted near the stream. A string of small boulders and rocks lined the channel, and Bekka took a seat on one of them, his back to the flowing water.

“Sit here, beside me,” he ordered.

Sargon obeyed, unsure of why the Sarum had brought him to this place. With the stream at their backs, the light from the many campfires cast a faint glow over the empty ground that led to the stream. The silver colored moon glowed overhead, and the shadowy trees gave off a pleasant scent. A private place to talk.

“How many seasons do you have, Sargon?”

He decided to tell Bekka the truth. “In two moons, I will have fifteen seasons.”

“If you expect to live long enough to reach that happy day, you would do well to cease challenging everyone you meet.”

“I wanted to show you and your clan that I am to be taken seriously, despite my years.”

“You survived three challenges,” Bekka said. “Do not tempt the gods by issuing a fourth.”

“Then you are going to let us return to the south?”

“Yes. I’ll give you fresh horses and you can depart in the morning. I’ll also provide an escort to make sure you reach the border alive. Trayack is still angry, and he is not the only one. Many hate your father for the fight at the stream, and for making them swear the oath.”

Sargon thought about that for a moment. The Sarum’s words meant that he did not have full control of his chiefs or his fighters, if one or more of them could dare to disobey his orders.

“So you will not ride to help the Ur Nammu.”

“No, that is why I will ride south to fight these Carchemishi. I need a victory for my warriors, or I will not lead the Clan for long. We have lost too many battles in the last few years. The Alur Meriki need to defeat a worthy enemy to regain their honor and enjoy once again the taste of victory.”

Sargon’s heart jumped at the news. The Alur Meriki would help. Which meant hope still lived for Tashanella and her family.

“Then we are in your debt, Chief Bekka.”

“Remind your father of that when you see him. I will hold you both to your word. Now, I have a question for you.”

Sargon glimpsed a flash of teeth in the moonlight.

“When you told Trayack that Hathor and his fighters could not be resisted once they had reached the stream, was that merely more of your bold words?”

Sargon wondered about the odd question, but he didn’t hesitate. “No. Hathor has fought in even more battles than my father, from Egypt to the Land Between the Rivers. He does not speak much of those days, but Hathor was a leader of a thousand for many years. His horsemen, the ones chosen for the ride to the stream, were the strongest and bravest in Akkad’s cavalry. They’ve trained together for many years, and have mastered the use of the horseman’s bow.”

Bekka laughed aloud. “Then I made the right decision, not to fight him at the stream.”

Suddenly Sargon understood. “You led the men who first opposed him?”

“Yes. We had only a few men, and Hathor’s horsemen looked too strong. Your words at the Council tonight removed some of the doubt that lingers over me.”

“You made the right decision.”

Bekka ignored that. “Now, tell me why you ride with the Ur Nammu, and why no Akkadian warriors accompany you. No king would leave his first born son alone to complete his training, with strangers and so far from home.”

Caught by surprise at the unexpected question, Sargon couldn’t find the words for a moment. Once again, he decided to speak the truth. “My father. . my parents, were. . disappointed with me. They felt I had failed them. In his anger, my father sent me to the Ur Nammu. I was not to return until I regained my honor.”

“Or died.” Bekka sighed. “I suspected something like that. Well, the wildness of young warriors must be tamed one way or another, if they are to grow to manhood and be of use to their Clan.”

He laughed again. “Let us hope that we both live long enough to learn whether or not we have proved our worth. If I return without a victory, I might as well fall on my sword. Better that than watch Trayack become Sarum.”

With a few words, Bekka had shown he understood Sargon’s position. “Trayack would lead your people to disaster.”

Bekka ignored that, too. He stood. “Time to go back. There is much to do. But remind your father that I will hold him to your words. We will need the protection and livestock you promised to feed our people, before this is over.”