After hearing that, Khnan’s smile grew even broader. “Not any more. Now King Shalmanisar rules these lands.” He spoke slowly, slow enough to make sure Sargon understood. “Take your people and leave, or bow down and pay tribute to our king, if you don’t want to be destroyed.”
Sargon had to struggle to get that translated, but he repeated it to Jennat as best he could.
“Tell. . Khnan that he will need many more men than thirty to take these lands from the Ur Nammu.”
Khnan seemed to take no offense when Sargon repeated Jennat’s words. “King Shalmanisar has many thousands of men. Any steppes warriors who dare to resist will be swept aside.”
Jennat grunted when he heard that. “Tell him. . tell him that we will carry his message to our leader.”
Sargon doubted if that message would get them away from Khnan and his men without a fight. He thought of something else that might. “These lands are held by the Ur Nammu, but under the protection of the City of Akkad.”
For the first time, the smile disappeared from Khnan’s face as he stared at Sargon. “Akkad. I’ve heard of the city that sits in the fertile land between the rivers. Akkad is nothing to us. If they dare to challenge King Shalmanisar, their city and its people will be destroyed.”
It took time to get the gist of that speech, and first Sargon told Jennat what he’d said to Khnan, then what the man’s answer was.
“Tell him. . tell him whatever you think.”
Sargon wet his lips. “Akkad’s walls are high and strong, and their warriors are as numerous as the blades of grass. Tell your King Shalmanisar to beware before he angers King Eskkar of Akkad.”
A faint shout made Khnan glance over his shoulder. Sargon saw that the rider who had departed was returning, this time riding hard. Even from this distance Sargon could see that the sweat-covered horse labored at the rapid pace set by its master.
Khnan returned his attention to Jennat and Sargon. “Tell this king of a dung heap,” he spat on the ground to show his contempt, “to hide behind his walls. If he dares to face us, he and his city of soft farmers will be destroyed.”
Sargon opened his mouth to translate, but never got the words out. Khnan had taken a second look behind him. The approaching rider was shouting something, something that turned the heads of the rest of soldiers behind Khnan. The remaining strangers were already on their feet.
Jennat scratched his chest, and everything happened at once. He loosed a savage war cry that echoed over the land. At the same time, his horse burst into movement, charging straight ahead at the rider and bowman on Khnan’s left. The speed of the attack, the last thing the strangers expected from a single fighter and a boy, caught the soldiers of Carchemish by surprise.
Jennat’s sword, ripped from its scabbard in a blur of bronze, came down in the same motion. The blade struck the horse just to the right of Jennat across the forehead. At the same time, Jennat’s mount crashed into the nearest bowman. The archer went down knocked backwards by Jennat’s horse.
Khnan managed to get his jeweled sword out, but by then Jennat had whirled his blade around, and managed to slash Khnan’s left arm before Jennat’s horse burst past.
Sargon’s horse understood the war cry far faster and better than its master. It, too, surged forward, almost without Sargon’s urging, knocking down the second bowman and brushing past the mounted man on Khnan’s right. The man’s sword flashed just behind Sargon as he went by. Another instant and Sargon would have taken the blow.
By then Jennat had wheeled his horse around, and Sargon managed to do the same. Both of their horses were at a full gallop in a handful of strides, Jennat urging them on with another full war cry.
The rider Sargon had bumped against gave chase, but by the time he got his horse moving, Sargon and Jennat had covered twenty paces, and both horses were running flat out. Sargon glanced behind him, and saw that the rider would never catch them. But the bowmen had regained their feet. Both had strung their bows, and the first arrow flashed over Sargon’s head.
“Separate!” Jennat guided his own horse to the side, so that the archers wouldn’t have an easy target.
Sargon’s horse caught the excitement, and they raced for the distant hilltop where Chinua had been. Sargon, clinging low to his horse’s neck, kept urging the animal onward even as he guided the beast over the shortest distance. Meanwhile, he expected an arrow in his back at every stride. Looking ahead, he saw that the rest of the Ur Nammu warriors had charged forward, moving to provide help.
More arrows hissed by, and Sargon risked a glance to his rear. The horseman had given up, not wanting to be in line with the shafts that searched for the fast moving riders. Another arrow brushed past Sargon’s arm, and hissed past his horse’s neck. It served only to spur the animal to a faster pace, and by now Sargon had drawn ahead of Jennat.
Sargon realized Jennat had a shaft protruding from his left arm. However the distance had grown too great for the bows to be shot accurately, though Sargon knew a lucky arrow could still find them. He and Jennat charged into the gulley and urged the horses up the steep side. Sargon nearly lost his seat, and had to cling to the horse’s neck for a handful of strides before he recovered.
A few more arrows landed around them, but then the mounts had regained their gallop and moved out of range. In moments they joined up with Chinua’s men.
Pulling hard on the halter, Sargon managed to halt his horse before it raced past Chinua. By the time he dragged the animal around, Jennat had started reporting. Chinua listened, but his eyes remained to the west.
Jennat finished relating what had passed, and Sargon heard his name mentioned more than once. Chinua merely nodded. Whatever had been said really meant nothing now. “Here come the rest of them.”
Sargon, his heart still beating rapidly, looked back toward the enemy. Two large bands of horsemen, at least forty or fifty men in each, had appeared over the farthest ridge. They weren’t riding straight at Chinua’s position, but angling off to the left and right. The ten horsemen with Khnan’s group started toward them as well, coming straight for the Ur Nammu.
“They’ll try and cut us off,” Jennat said.
A warrior who acted as a healer reached Jennat’s side. With a quick twist, he snapped the shaft in two, and jerked the pointed end from Jennat’s arm. The wounded man flinched, but no sound escaped his lips. The healer, with another swift move, tugged a rag from his belt, passed it around Jennat’s arm, and knotted it fast. Even before he finished the knot, blotches of blood seeped through the rag.
“We ride to the northeast,” Chinua said, raising his voice so that everyone could hear. “Once we get out ahead of them, Jennat will take the horse boys and head straight for our camp, to tell Subutai what has happened and give him time to prepare.”
“And what will we be doing?” Skala looked toward the two war parties closing in on them. Khnan’s small force of horsemen was only a few hundred paces away.
“We are going to teach these invaders not to enter the lands of the Ur Nammu. Now, let’s ride!”
The warriors burst into motion. Once again, Sargon found himself in the rear, and had to struggle to catch up with Timmu.
Sargon glanced over his shoulder. The northernmost band of enemy riders had already drawn within half a mile, and the course Chinua had set would soon shorten that distance. It would be close.
Sargon, riding as he’d never ridden before, suddenly realized that these men chasing after him would kill him if they could. It wouldn’t matter to them that his father was Eskkar of Akkad. All it would take was one false step from his horse, a fall, even a lucky arrow shot high in the air, and Sargon would be dead or wounded. Chinua would leave him behind, just as he would leave any of his men behind who couldn’t keep up.