“I’ve taken the count of the dead and wounded.” Urgo dropped to the earth beside his Sarum and closed his eyes for a moment of comfort.
“How many?” Not that Thutmose-sin cared any longer. This defeat ended his rule over the Clan. It would have been kinder for his guards to have left him behind, to be hacked to death by the dirt eaters along with the other wounded unable to crawl away.
“Three hundred and forty dead,” Urgo said. “At least that number wounded. Many of them will die, even if they reach the wagons. Altanar is dead, as is Narindar and Praxa. Suijan is badly wounded, and can fight no more today.”
Four clan leaders dead or unable to fight. More than one warrior in three dead or wounded. For the first time, Thutmose-sin heard their moans rising up all around him. From their youngest days, warriors were taught not to show pain, but some wounds were too severe for even the bravest to resist.
“We will have to attack again,” Bar’rack said, breaking the custom of not speaking until the eldest clan leader had finished. “At least this time we’ll ride into battle like warriors.”
The first criticism of his leadership, Thutmose-sin noted. Of course, if the night attack had succeeded, no one would have dared say anything. “How many dirt eaters did we kill?”
“It’s hard to say.” Urgo stretched out his leg and grimaced. “But not many. Perhaps a hundred, maybe more. Their archers cut down many of our men before they crossed the stream.”
Six dead or wounded warriors for every dirt eater. Thutmose-sin had attacked at night to prevent just such a disaster, and it had still befallen him. In his anger, Bar’rack spoke the truth. They would have done as well to attack at dawn on horseback. At least they would have died with more honor than crawling on their bellies.
“Who gave the order to retreat?” Thutmose-sin lifted his brow, expecting Urgo to answer.
“I did.” Bekka’s voice sounded firm and unapologetic. “I’ve lost nearly half my men. The dirt eaters weren’t going to break, and I saw no sense in the rest of us dying on their spears.”
“You should have kept fighting until you broke their ranks!” Bar’rack’s accusing voice revealed his anger.
Bekka eyed his detractor. On another day, Bar’rack’s criticism might have resulted in a challenge. But not today.
“No, Bekka was right to stop the slaughter.” Thutmose-sin spoke quickly to avoid the quarrel. “Eskkar spoke the truth. Even if we broke their ranks, it would have meant the end of the Alur Meriki.”
“When will we be ready to attack again?” Bar’rack raised his voice, his rage and humiliation clear to all. “We need the water more than ever. Soon we will lose control of the horses.”
The animals had scented water for two days now, but been held from reaching the stream. Many had not tasted more than a mouthful of water for longer than that. Another day, and no amount of rope would hold them from breaking free and rushing to the stream.
“An attack in daylight will mean the end of the Alur Meriki,” Urgo said. “The Akkadians will break our charge, and then our women and wagons will be at their mercy. Another day or two without water, and our surviving warriors will have no strength to resist them.”
“Are we to do nothing then?” His hands clenched into fists at his side, Bar’rack could barely control his anger and frustration. “Will we just sit here until thirst kills us in front of our women?”
“What do you suggest, Urgo?” Bekka sat down beside the old warrior.
Thutmose-sin understood the implication. Bekka, too, had signaled his lack of confidence in his Sarum.
“We need to find a way to deal with Eskkar.” Urgo kept his voice calm. “He was one of us once. He will not want to see the women and children die a slow death from lack of water.”
“No! We must attack now.” Bar’rack’s contorted face flushed red. “Either we achieve victory or we die in battle.”
“Silence!” Thutmose-sin climbed to his feet. “You must not fight among yourselves. Whatever you decide to do, you must be in agreement.”
“And what do you suggest?” Urgo spoke before Bar’rack could again vent his rage.
“I will make one last attempt to talk to Eskkar,” Thutmose-sin answered, “to challenge him to a fight to the death. If he refuses to fight, then I will ride against his forces and kill as many as I can before I die.”
His words stunned them into silence.
“No matter what happens, I am no longer your Sarum. Choose another as soon as I am gone. Urgo, you will take command of my clansmen.”
Thutmose-sin called for his horse. The last of his guards led the big gray over, and Thutmose-sin swung onto the animal’s back, ignoring the pain in his side. He settled his sword into place across his back, snatched a lance from one of the warriors, and rode off.
No one, not even his guards, followed him. Most didn’t even bother to lift their heads as he passed through their midst.
“We must have a new Sarum.” Bekka didn’t even wait until Thutmose-sin had disappeared over the hill.
“I will take command of the Alur Meriki.” Bar’rack voice rose up loud enough to be heard by those near them. “If this is to be our last fight, then we must die with honor.”
“No. I chose Urgo as our new Sarum.” Bekka’s words carried a force that caught both Urgo and Bar’rack by surprise. “Now is not the time for another slaughter of the Alur Meriki. Urgo will find another way.”
“Urgo is too old. .”
“Urgo is wise.” Bekka rose to his feet. “The Alur Meriki need wisdom now if we are to survive. Unlike you, I am not so eager to see my women and children dead in their wagons.” He turned to the old warrior. “Will you accept the name of Sarum?”
“Yes.” Urgo offered his hand to Bekka, who helped lift him upright. “And Bekka will be my war chief.”
Bar’rack’s eyes flashed from one to the other, his teeth bared in disgust. “So the coward and the old fool join together. No warrior will follow a fool into battle.”
“Summon your clan, Bekka,” Urgo ordered. “Tell every warrior the news. The sooner they know who leads them, the better.”
Bekka nodded. He understood what must happen. Bar’rack had to be prevented from ordering the warriors to follow him in another attack.
With an oath, Bar’rack spun on his heel and walked away. Bekka went in the opposite direction, both men seeking out his horse, and leaving Urgo behind. Once mounted, Bekka rode through the dispirited warriors, shouting the news and ordering his men to pass the word.
As the news spread, Bekka looked around for Bar’rack, and saw him pacing his horse away in silence. Bekka did not notice that Bar’rack rode not toward where his clansmen sat, but toward the top of the hill, following the path taken by Thutmose-sin.
“Captain! Wake up.” Hathor shook Eskkar’s shoulder a second time. “There’s a rider coming.”
Eskkar pulled himself to his feet. After a long day, a sleepless night, and a hard fought battle, he’d hoped to get a few moments rest. A glance at the gray clouds that stretched overhead and blocked the morning sun told him he’d slept only a few moments. A few drops of rain fell from the sky, scattering themselves on the ground.
“One rider?” Eskkar felt a sudden breeze against his face that pushed the rain aside. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Hathor wouldn’t have roused him for a single warrior.
“Just one, but I think it’s Thutmose-sin. At least it’s the same gray stallion.”
A look toward the enemy lines showed a single horsemen picking his way to the bottom of the hill. As Eskkar watched, the warrior brought the horse into an easy canter. By now Eskkar had reached the front ranks of his men. He stared at the approaching rider.