“If the Great Clan wishes peace, then they must accept the following. First, a thousand warriors to fight under my banner when I summon them. They will have their fair share of any loot when we battle my enemy. Bekka will be their leader, and on that day, he will swear his allegiance to me on his sword and on his honor as a warrior in front of his men. It may be two or three years before your fighters are needed, but then they must place themselves under my command.”
“With so many warriors gone, the Alur Meriki will be vulnerable.” Bekka offered it not as a challenge, merely an observation.
“I understand. When I summon you, your people may place themselves under the protection of Akkad, in our northern lands. They will be safe there, and I will see that they have what they need while your warriors are gone.”
Bekka turned to Urgo, who nodded approval.
Urgo met Eskkar’s gaze. “It will be done.”
“Second,” Eskkar went on, “the Alur Meriki must swear to never again raid the lands of Akkad, or wage war against the Ur Nammu. Like Akkad, the Ur Nammu have suffered greatly from the wrath of the Alur Meriki. Every warrior must swear on his sword and his honor, and with open hands. There must be no pebbles held to deny the oath.”
Some warriors considered that a pebble clutched in one hand rendered an oath meaningless.
Urgo smiled. “You are wise, indeed. Agreed. Akkad and the Ur Nammu will be considered as friends.”
The Alur Meriki hadn’t considered anyone their friends for as far back as anyone could remember, but Eskkar decided not to bring that up, either.
“Third, I will need three hundred war horses. One hundred now, two hundred next year.”
Urgo shrugged. “After last night, we have many extra horses. Agreed.”
“Fourth, the Alur Meriki must free all their slaves. Many of those have been captured in these lands.”
“That can be done,” Urgo said. So far the only thing of real value Eskkar had requested was the horses. The slaves were a useful luxury, nothing more.
“And last, I want all the members of my father’s clan, Jamal’s Hawk Clan, to be given the chance to join my standard. They must be permitted to make the choice freely.”
For the first time, Eskkar saw surprise on Urgo’s face.
The old man took his time before replying. “I don’t know who they are, or even how many of them are left alive,” Urgo said. “It has been many seasons since the Hawk Clan’s banner flew in the sky.”
Over thirty years, Eskkar guessed. But this was something he wanted to do for his father, Hogarthak.
“That may be,” Eskkar said, “but I will make the offer myself to your warriors. And you and Bekka will make sure that they are free to leave the Clan.”
“It can be done,” Urgo said.
“And I want the family of Thutmose-sin protected and cared for. All of them. They are mine by right of conquest, but you will place them under your standard, Chief Urgo. They are not to be harmed or suffer any shame.”
The dead Sarum’s family meant nothing to Eskkar, but many would take offense at any harsh treatment to Thutmose-sin’s family. Instead, Eskkar’s generosity would be appreciated. Not to mention he didn’t need Thutmose-sin’s children growing up eager to avenge their father’s death, and waiting for an opportunity to strike.
“Agreed.” Urgo obviously had little sympathy or interest for his former Sarum’s wives and children. “That is all you. . request?”
“Yes.” Another wild thought jumped into Eskkar’s mind. “And I will speak to all your warriors myself.”
For the second time, Urgo displayed surprise. “How will. . when will you do this?”
Eskkar glanced up at the sun. Midmorning had just passed. From all the morning’s activity, he would have thought the sun about to set. “At midday. Bring your warriors to the bottom of the hill. I will come to you then.”
“Our warriors are angry,” Bekka said, obviously not so much concerned for Eskkar’s safety but he knew what would happen if the Akkadian leader were killed. “Some have lost kin, and others may not like to hear your words. In their anger, they may not listen to our words to hold their vengeance.”
Both clan leaders knew a single arrow could end the last chance of the Alur Meriki.
Urgo considered this for a moment. He turned to Bekka. “It is dangerous, but wise. Eskkar must speak to our warriors himself, if this peace is to work. They may not listen to us, but they must listen to the man who defeated them.”
Urgo sighed, and shifted his gaze to Eskkar. “I will speak to them first and tell them of the bitter herbs they must taste. I believe they will hold their anger.”
Once again Urgo had cut straight to the heart of the matter.
“King Eskkar understands the use of power as well as the need for courage,” Urgo went on. “Is there anything else?”
“No.” Taking care not to disturb A-tuku, Eskkar shifted his leg off the animal’s neck. He shook the halter and added a touch from his left heel. A-tuku picked up his head and turned to the left. Eskkar put him to a canter, which he sensed would be more dramatic than simply walking the horse back to his men.
As he rode, Eskkar let out a long sigh of relief. Once again his luck had held. Sooner or later, Eskkar knew it would run out. He just hoped it would last for the rest of today.
On the Akkadian side of the stream, Hathor paced up and down, his dour countenance hiding his concern for his friend and King. Hathor owed much to Eskkar, and the two had grown close over the fifteen years since Eskkar had spared Hathor’s life. It would be bad enough if his friend were killed in battle. Hathor didn’t want Eskkar getting himself killed doing something foolish. Hathor preferred another battle rather than face Trella in her grief.
Hathor would follow his Captain and friend into the very teeth of the enemy, and he had done so at the Battle of Isin. To stand here and watch Eskkar take a foolish challenge from a defeated enemy had been bad enough. Hathor would have met the leader of the Alur Meriki with a shower of a hundred arrows. But Eskkar had given strict orders, and Hathor trusted his commander enough to follow them.
All the Akkadians had rejoiced when Eskkar took Thutmose-sin’s head. Hathor had led the cheering himself for the few moments before the second warrior attacked. Eskkar could have avoided battle by riding back to the stream, but stayed instead and slew his opponent, once again proving his courage against a mounted foe armed with a bow.
Those moments of worry during the brief fighting were nothing compared to what Hathor endured during the long conference with the two barbarian chiefs. Expecting treachery at any moment, he stared open mouthed when Eskkar relaxed so much that he shifted his leg over the horse’s neck. The long talk between the three dragged on and on, and finally Hathor could stand the tension no longer.
He strode down the rank of soldiers until he reached the position where Alexar and Mitrac stood. Mitrac had a shaft fitted to his string, though he held the bow at his side.
“How long will they talk?” Hathor made no effort to conceal his concern. “Has Eskkar lost his wits, to meet with his enemy like this? Sooner or later, they’re going to kill him.”
“I’ve known him for almost twenty years, since he came to Orak,” Alexar said. “He’s risked his neck at least ten times that I know of. It’s some barbarian code of honor that he still holds to, despite all they’ve done to him over the years. All the same, he usually knows what he’s doing, and with these barbarians, he may be on to something. Those on the hill aren’t getting ready for another attack.”
“Look, he’s coming.” Mitrac gestured with his bow, and the three of them watched as at last Eskkar rode back toward the lines. During the desperate fight with Thutmose-sin, Mitrac had twice raised his bow, ready to shoot if Eskkar fell, but each time Mitrac lowered his weapon.
When Eskkar splashed across the stream, his soldiers roared in approval, shaking swords and spears into the air. The chant of “Eskkar!” sounded again and again, bellowed from close to a thousand throats. He raised his arms to silence their voices, but the sound didn’t subside even as he swung down from his horse. Commanders and leaders rushed to surround him, many clasping his shoulders in relief.