“Nice and steady,” Eskkar said, touching his heels to his horse. “Just match their pace.”
Step by step, the two groups walked their way toward one another. The gap between them narrowed, until the Alur Meriki halted.
“They’re just in range,” Mitrac commented, his eyes gauging the distance. “My archers can reach that far.”
Eskkar shook his head. “The minute they see a shaft in the air they’ll turn and gallop away.” He touched the halter against his horse’s neck, and the three resumed their slow pace.
When the distance closed to ten paces, Eskkar eased A-tuku to a stop, and the enemy warriors did the same. Mitrac and Hathor remained on either side, about two paces away from their Captain, leaving each with enough space to use their weapons.
Eskkar studied the three chiefs facing him. In the center, wearing the gleaming bronze medallion that signified the leadership of the Alur Meriki, was Thutmose-sin. He rode a powerful looking gray stallion.
Though Eskkar couldn’t recall the man’s face, he recognized the powerful emblem of the clan. As a youth, he’d seen it hanging on the breast of Maskim-Xul, father of Thutmose-sin. And in the nighttime fight outside Orak’s walls, Eskkar had glimpsed it again on the chest of Thutmose-sin, gleaming in the light from the raging fires.
The second warrior wore a fresh bandage on his thigh and another on his arm. Despite the wounds, he seemed calm enough, betraying no emotion either by his face or body movements. That one, Eskkar decided, would be dangerous.
The third and youngest chief struggled to control his anger. While Eskkar didn’t have Trella’s skill in reading people’s faces, he recognized raw hatred when he saw it. Eskkar returned his gaze to Thutmose-sin.
“You are Eskkar of Akkad, what was once known as Orak. I am Thutmose-sin, leader of the Alur Meriki. This is Chief Bekka,” he nodded to the bandaged warrior on his left, “and Chief Bar’rack.”
Eskkar acknowledged their names with a nod. “I am Eskkar of Akkad. This is Hathor, commander of my cavalry, and this is. .”
“We know the Great Slayer of warriors,” Thutmose-sin finished. “He is Mitrac the Archer. Many of our women have cried out into the night and cursed both his name and his arrows.”
Even before the siege of Orak, Mitrac’s shafts had killed many warriors. During the siege Mitrac and his deadly bow had killed or wounded an uncountable number of the enemy. No single man had ever slain so many of the Alur Meriki. No wonder they knew his name and cursed his existence at their cooking fires.
“He gives insult by bringing the Slayer before us,” Bar’rack said, not bothering to conceal his hatred. “Even an outcast should know that bows are forbidden when warriors meet.”
“Control your tongue.” Despite giving the rebuke, Thutmose-sin betrayed no trace of anger toward his commander for speaking out of turn.
Eskkar smiled. So that was what had prompted the brief discussion when they had first seen him and his men ride out.
He considered Bar’rack’s outburst. It seemed odd for the Sarum of the Alur Meriki to bring a young clan leader with him, one who could not control his emotions. Eskkar finished his examination of the three clan leaders before he answered. “We have met once before, Thutmose-sin, on the night of the great burning.”
“My sword shattered against your blade,” Thutmose-sin said, “or I would have killed you.”
Eskkar shrugged. “Perhaps. But you are the one who bears the mark of my sword on your forehead. If the wagon had not burst into flame, I would have killed you.”
Thutmose-sin frowned at the memory. Though the years had faded the scar, the force of Eskkar’s pommel had indeed left its mark, and not only on Thutmose-sin’s body. “The custom of meeting before battle forbids the carrying of bows.”
“Your customs mean nothing to me.” Eskkar kept his voice calm, almost placid, another piece of useful advice from Trella. Let your words carry the message, not your voice or face, lest you reveal too much of what is in your heart. “If Mitrac frightens you, I can send him back to my men.”
That elicited a second, deeper frown from Thutmose-sin, while Bar’rack’s lips formed a thin line across his face. Only Bekka remained unmoved, almost unconcerned.
Eskkar kept his face impassive as the warriors swallowed the insult. “What does the leader of the Alur Meriki wish to say?”
“Your men hold the water.” Thutmose-sin once again had his voice under control. “Our women and children will soon arrive here. They need water for themselves and their herds.”
“The water of this stream belongs to Akkad, as all of this land now belongs to Akkad. If you want water, you will have to find it somewhere else.” Eskkar didn’t bother to add, or fight for it.
“We have come too far to turn back,” Thutmose-sin said. “And a battle between us will leave many dead on both sides. If you abandon this place, we will let you depart in peace.”
“We are not ready to depart,” Eskkar said. “In four or five days, we may wish to move on. If you wait until then, you may have your water.”
Thutmose-sin knew that in four more days, the Alur Meriki wouldn’t have any warriors who could fight or horses to carry them. “If you leave now, we will give you gold, as well as many horses, at least one hundred.”
The Alur Meriki were indeed desperate. Eskkar shook his head. “You want to burden my men with gold and have them tending a horse herd when you attack? The moment your warriors’ horses finished drinking they would ride to attack us. No, keep your gold. If you want water, turn your horses back toward the east and leave this land.”
“So you came here only to challenge the Alur Meriki.” Thutmose-sin’s voice now betrayed his anger.
Trella’s advice once again proved its worth. The calmer Eskkar remained, the angrier Thutmose-sin grew.
Eskkar leaned forward and rested his left hand on the neck of his horse, who bobbed its head contentedly at the touch. “I came here to end once and for all time the raids and attacks against the farms and villages and herds of this land. If that means I have to destroy the Alur Meriki. .” He shrugged again, the gesture so familiar among steppes warriors.
Silence met the blunt words. At least now, there would be no compromise, no turning back for either side.
“Then you will never leave this place alive.” Thutmose-sin’s voice betrayed his hatred.
“That may be. But even if we are defeated, the might of the Alur Meriki will be broken here forever. Never again will your warriors ride freely though our lands. And while we fight, more forces from Akkad approach. How will you stop them?”
There were no more soldiers coming, but Eskkar knew Thutmose-sin couldn’t be sure of that.
“You are a traitor to your kind.” Thutmose-sin clenched his fist, unable to contain his rage any longer. “Your father killed my half brother. For that you and your clan were declared outcast. Now you shall pay for that deed as well.”
Eskkar had never heard the whole story of what had happened the night his parents died. To learn that his father, Hogarthak, had killed a clan leader before his own death, now made his memory all the stronger. “Then my father died as a brave warrior doing his duty. I will honor his memory.”
“And I will kill you myself.” Bar’rack moved his horse a few steps closer. “I’ve sworn the Shan Kar against you, Eskkar of Akkad, to avenge my brother’s death. He died in the valley north of Orak, ambushed by you and the Ur Nammu scum. If you have any honor, you will take the challenge I offer you, and fight me man to man, here and now.”
So that was why Thutmose-sin brought the young warrior. To see if he could goad Eskkar into accepting a challenge.
At Bar’rack’s advance, Hathor let his horse take one step forward, ready to block the way, and moved his hand closer to his sword’s hilt. Mitrac shifted his bow, which had been resting across the back of the horse’s neck, and let it hang down at his left side. Despite what many believed, he could nock and shoot a shaft from a horse if he had to.