Urgo snorted with amusement. “Today, tomorrow, death will take us sooner or later if we don’t get our people to the stream.”
The new Sarum of the Alur Meriki and one of his few remaining clan leaders approached Eskkar’s position. The Akkadian King sat on his horse, facing them. His face revealed no emotion, no boastful signs of a victorious fighter.
“What are you going to say?” Bekka knew little of negotiations or serious talks between leaders, let alone enemies.
“What we must. The only thing that will save the Alur Meriki from destruction.”
11
Eskkar had collected A-tuku’s halter and stood beside his mount, watching the two warriors walk their horses toward him. Satisfied that their slow pace indicated peaceful intentions, he swung astride his horse and moved a few paces toward them. That would take A-tuku away from the flies, as well as show the approaching horsemen he didn’t fear them.
While he waited for the two to draw near, Eskkar glanced up at the sky. The mountain sun had broken through most of the dreary clouds of morning. The bright sunlight brought back a memory. His father, Hogarthak, always muttered a prayer to the gods for the warmth of the sun.
Today, the day Eskkar had never really believed would arrive, had come. Today he avenged his family. When Eskkar met his own fate and descended into the underworld, he could stand before his father with honor. And for Hogarthak’s bravery to his clan leader, Eskkar knew his father would command a seat of importance close to the gods. His spirit could now rest in peace.
Eskkar brought his thoughts back to the two riders. He recognized Bekka’s stocky form. The other chief, with long wispy gray hair floating in the light breeze, seemed uneasy on his horse. But the older man led the way, with Bekka obviously deferring to his companion’s years. As they drew close, Eskkar saw that neither wasted a glance at the headless body of Thutmose-sin.
The old warrior halted his horse within a single stride of Eskkar’s bay. All three animals stretched out their necks, sniffing at each other, tails swishing away the flies summoned by the freshly spilled blood. More sunlight rent the last of the fading clouds, and shone down on the Akkadian position. The gods had clearly spoken, and they had given their favor to the fighters from Akkad.
The gray haired warrior studied Eskkar’s face for a moment. “I am Urgo. For now, I am Sarum of the Alur Meriki.”
Eskkar searched his memory, but he had left the clan many years ago, when he was fourteen. He couldn’t recall a warrior or chief named Urgo. In those days, there had been twelve clan leaders forming the Great Council. This Urgo was old enough to have been one of those, but he might have risen in the ranks since then.
“I am Eskkar.” He nodded to Bekka. “Do you wish to talk, or have you also come to challenge me again?”
“The time for challenges is past.” Urgo rested both hands on the base of his horse’s neck and leaned forward, as if seeking relief for an injured back. “The women and children of the Alur Meriki need the water you guard. I ask you, as warrior to warrior, to not take your vengeance out on them. If you must destroy our warriors this day, so be it. But after the battle, I plead for mercy for our women, our old, and our young.”
Eskkar studied their faces as Urgo spoke. Trella had taught him to read the subtle signs that often passed over men’s visages, and he recognized the small hints that indicated Urgo was in pain, possibly much pain. Bekka, who had bloodstained bandages wrapped around his right arm, chest, and left leg, betrayed no sign of weakness.
Eskkar sensed something else in the younger man’s calm exterior. Bekka had fought hard, but he, too, realized the time for battle had passed.
The Alur Meriki had indeed grown desperate. Eskkar’s men, their demeanor, their willingness to fight, and their steadiness during the attack, had delivered a chill into the hearts of these brave warriors. With their advantage in numbers gone, they knew they faced hardened fighters. Though the Alur Meriki would never admit it, deep down in their hearts, they knew they could not win.
A glimmer of an idea caught hold in Eskkar’s thoughts. When he finally spoke, he addressed his words to Urgo.
“You speak of mercy, but for many years the Alur Meriki have shown none to the villagers and farmers of this land. Why should I now offer any to you?”
“What you say is true, Eskkar of Akkad. But once you were Eskkar, son of Hogarthak, of the Alur Meriki. I knew your father as a brave and honorable man. I watched him fight and die with honor. Are you so eager now to take revenge on your own kind? You have killed many hundreds of our men since the days of Orak. How many more will it take to satisfy you? How many would Hogarthak want to die?”
Urgo wanted peace, Eskkar decided. More than that, he wanted to preserve the Alur Meriki from destruction. The hastily conceived idea in the back of Eskkar’s mind took hold and grew. The risks would be great, but he much preferred a bold gamble. He would have liked more time to think it through, but knew this moment might not come again.
Moving with care, Eskkar raised up his right leg and rested it across A-tuku’s neck. The gesture left him vulnerable should either of the warriors attack, but it also proved the courage needed to display such strength. Up on the crest of the hill, the watching warriors would see and understand.
“My father’s spirit is satisfied with the death of Thutmose-sin. His father killed mine, so that blood debt is paid. But my brother, my sister, my mother, what of them? How will their deaths be avenged?”
“They cannot,” Urgo answered. “Still, over the years Thutmose-sin lost three of his sons, killed at the hands of your fighters. Now his wives and children will mourn his loss. But if you need to take your revenge on Thutmose-sin’s family, I will send them to you. You can kill them, or keep them as slaves.”
Neither choice interested Eskkar. Instead, the plan developing in his mind fell into place. With luck, it might come to be. Nevertheless, there was only one way to find out. He turned his gaze to Bekka.
“What do you say to this, Bekka?”
The warrior met Eskkar’s eyes for a moment, apparently surprised at being asked his opinion. Then, taking his time, Bekka lifted his right leg up and onto the neck of his horse. To those watching, he and Eskkar might have been old friends taking a moment of rest after a long day’s ride, both too lazy to dismount.
“I have only been a clan leader for four seasons,” Bekka said. “So it is not my place to speak against Urgo’s wisdom. But it may be that the fighting between Akkad and the Alur Meriki should come to an end. Akkad has won the long conflict. Even if we attacked your forces and destroyed all of them, those of us who survived would be too weak to defend themselves and our wagons against our enemies.”
And you have many enemies, Eskkar thought. But now was not the time to remind these proud men of that.
“Akkad, too, still has enemies who would test our swords.” Eskkar paused, searching for the right words. “But it may be possible for there to be peace between us. Are the Alur Meriki willing to accept such a peace?”
“Yes.”
Urgo hadn’t hesitated. No more bargaining, no more threats. Just the single word that might save the Alur Meriki from annihilation.
“I agree with my Sarum,” Bekka said. “What is it that we must do?”
Eskkar wished Trella were here to negotiate with them. She would know the right phrases to smooth the way. All the same, he would have to do his best. He had, after all, sat through hundreds of seemingly endless bargaining sessions with greedy traders and gold-loving merchants, arguing over every copper coin or slight to their honor. Nothing here could be worse than that.