The southern end of the stream, where it disappeared beneath the rocks, had already been turned into a latrine. Two soldiers stood there, side by side, talking as they pissed into the waters.
“How many are there?” Thutmose-sin had heard the number already, but it might have changed since yesterday.
“Just over a thousand men, Sarum.”
“Damn that Eskkar,” Thutmose-sin muttered. “How did he get so many men here without our learning of his movements?”
“My scouts have already reported in,” Bekka said. “They back-tracked the Akkadians and found their trail, coming straight from the west, right along the crest of the foothills.”
The last place the Alur Meriki expected to find anyone approaching them. Too late to worry about that now.
Instead, Thutmose-sin examined the enemy force across the stream. First he studied the horsemen, all apparently skilled with the short curved bow that once marked only the Alur Meriki. Then his eyes picked out the accursed Akkadian archers that had slaughtered his men at Orak, recognizable by the longer bows they carried.
Thutmose-sin next turned his gaze on the spearmen, what the dirt eaters now called infantry. They carried true spears, not lances, each one as thick as a man’s wrist and longer than the tallest warrior.
He gave but the briefest of looks at the company of slingers, who even from here looked more like boys than men. Still, the Akkadians had selected a carefully chosen force to fight in this particular place, and Eskkar must have some plan for the slingers.
“Any signs of confusion, fear, any quarrels in their ranks?”
“None, Sarum.” Bekka kept his voice respectful. “These men are under strong discipline. When we charged, they took their positions and stood their ground. Not a man turned to flee.”
Thutmose-sin shifted to face Urgo and Altanar, the other two chiefs who had accompanied him. Urgo had not spent so much time on a horse’s back in months, and the old man’s pain, though he tried to hide it, showed in his clenched jaw. But Thutmose-sin knew he would need the old fighter’s experience, especially his knowledge of the land.
“What do you think, Urgo?”
The experienced warrior shook his head. “First there were eleven. Then they became a hundred. Now they are a thousand. They spread across the pass from end to end. Any more men would only be in the way, not worth the food they would need to eat. This Eskkar of Akkad has chosen this place, this time, and these men to offer us battle.”
Thutmose-sin frowned at Urgo’s words and what they implied.
“The outcast Eskkar seems confident of victory,” Altanar said, after a long silence, “if he brings so many dirt eaters to this place. Although he blocks our way, he, too, is trapped here, cut off from his supplies. He cannot have brought much food with him. We could starve him out in eight or ten days.”
“Yes, if we could last that long.” Urgo reached behind to massage a sore spot on his hip. “Meanwhile we have not enough water to fill our bellies, let alone our horses. And what will our women and children drink? Already their water skins hang flat from the wagons. In one day and half of the next, they will arrive here, desperate for water.”
Yesterday the clan leaders had met and decided to move forward, not back. No one believed that a force of dirt eaters could prevent the Clan reaching the water. Once again Urgo had urged them to turn the caravan around, but that choice was too bitter for any of the others to stomach.
And now, Thutmose-sin realized, it was too late to change his mind. Even if he gave the order to retrace their path, half and maybe more of the Alur Meriki would never reach their last watering place.
“What do you say, Bekka?” Thutmose-sin gazed at the man beside him. “You’ve been watching the dirt eaters for more than two days, and fought them. What do you think?”
“I say we must drive them away from the water. I know that many of us will die, but at least we will die with honor. To turn back without a battle. . to refuse to fight dirt eaters, how could we face our women and children again?”
Urgo shook his head. “We know Eskkar has two or three times this number of fighters at his command in Akkad. By now, a second horde could be marching toward this place from the south. Even if we drive these dirt eaters away from the water, if we kill every one of them, how many warriors will we have left to face the next force of soldiers Akkad will send against us? Who will defend our women and children and wagons then?”
“We do not know if there are more coming,” Altanar countered. “Our scouts have seen nothing. If the Akkadians come, we can attack them in the foothills. These dirt eaters fight well in a fortified position, but on the march, out in the open, they may not prove so formidable.”
“Your scouts may have seen nothing, but that does not mean they are not coming.” Urgo shook his head again. “We did not see these dirt eaters approaching until it was too late.”
“The Council has made its decision.” Thutmose-sin didn’t want to go over the old arguments again. “But no matter what, we need every warrior we can put on a horse to finish Eskkar and these dirt eaters. If more Akkadians are indeed coming toward us, the sooner we destroy those in our path and secure the water, the better.”
He turned to Bekka. “Your men are more rested. Dispatch riders to collect every band of warriors. I want every warrior from every clan here as soon as possible.”
“Yes, Sarum.”
Even as Thutmose-sin gave the order, he wondered if this was not exactly what Eskkar wanted him to do. The Sarum let his gaze roam up and down the ranks of the Akkadians. Two men, taller than most, stood together, staring up at this very hilltop. One of them likely was Eskkar himself.
Without thinking, Thutmose-sin touched the scar on his forehead. The next time he met Eskkar in battle, no broken blade would be enough to stop Thutmose-sin from killing the traitor. Of that, he was certain.
“Is it him?” Alexar strode over to join Eskkar and Hathor, craning his neck and shading his eyes as he stared across at the enemy hill. None of the Akkadians had ever seen the dreaded Thutmose-sin, except for Eskkar.
“I think so,” Eskkar said. “If it’s not, then whoever it is has taken charge.”
“The one on the end.” Hathor pointed toward the right. “I recognize him. He was one of the leaders in the attack.”
“Four clan chiefs together. They’re making their plans while they gather their men.” Eskkar turned away from the hill. “By now they’ve figured out that they have to fight. Let’s just hope they don’t come up with anything better than charging at us from across the stream.”
Eskkar glanced toward his own soldiers. “How soon before we are ready?”
“Not long,” Alexar said. “The men still need some time to recover from the march. Meanwhile, the slingers are busy chipping away at the cliffs, and the rest of the men are cursing at me for making them carry rocks. By the end of the day, we’ll be as ready as we’re going to be.”
Water-polished stones from the stream, some larger than a melon, were being scattered over both sides of the waterway, with twice as many on the Akkadian side. If the barbarians succeeded in crossing over, the stones would make it difficult for a charging man to keep his footing. It would be yet one more obstacle to overcome before the enemy could come to grips with the Akkadians.
“They’ve known about us for almost four days,” Eskkar said. “It will take them at least the rest of the day, and probably tomorrow, to assemble enough warriors for another attack. And Thutmose-sin knows by now that he’s going to need every one if he wants his horses to drink from the stream.”
“Then I’ll have time to rest the men. All that walking has taken its toll.” Alexar rubbed his hands together in anticipation. “I’ll even make sure they do a little training.”