“Because the Ur Nammu are the allies of Akkad. Because they are friends to my father and mother. And because you may save the life of their son, Sargon. Because I will be returning to the Ur Nammu. I have not yet completed my training, and I must stand with my friends.”
Another murmur passed through the crowd. Urgo took a deep breath, stared at the ground for a moment, then turned to Fashod. “You are. .?”
“I am Fashod, second in command of the Ur Nammu.” He bowed respectfully to the older man. “My thanks to you, Chief Urgo, for letting us speak. First, let me say that I have fought with Eskkar of Akkad in three battles, and with Hathor the Egyptian in three more. Our Sarum is Subutai. He, too, is a friend of Eskkar. Neither of us thought to approach the Alur Meriki for help, but Sargon suggested this. May I tell you what else we have discovered about our enemy, and what we have planned?”
Sargon noticed that Trayack could scarcely conceal his impatience. That should teach him to speak foolishly. Now he dared not interrupt, if he didn’t want to be escorted from the Council.
Urgo didn’t look to his Sarum for approval. “Yes. Tell us what you’ve learned.”
Fashod told them about the hurried ride back to the camp, and of Subutai’s difficult decision to head toward the Alur Meriki. He also told them all they had learned about the Carchemishi, the size and disposition of their forces, and their probable plans.
As Fashod spoke, Sargon felt the presence of the crowd growing ever larger and creeping ever closer with each word. A routine Council meeting had turned into something far more urgent.
No doubt Chief Bekka, if he had known what Sargon planned to say, would have met with him privately. But now everyone knew of the coming battle, and of Sargon’s offer to provide food and anything else they needed. The Sarum and his clan leaders’ decisions would be scrutinized by all.
Fashod finished up. “Subutai knows that he cannot ask for your help out of friendship. But he does ask it, because he knows that it will also help you. Perhaps if we survive the battle, the time may come for friendship, or at least peace, between our clans. Is not Thutmose-sin dead, and Subutai’s father? Both those leaders waged war upon the other. But I was present when Subutai’s father died many years ago, and that day Subutai declared that the Shan Kar between him and your clan had ended. With Thutmose-sin gone, is there any longer a reason for our clans to do battle?”
“Your words have wisdom, Fashod. Tell your Sarum that we have heard his words.” Urgo glanced at the other clan leaders, but no one seemed to have anything else to say. “Then we are finished. Sargon, is there more you wish to tell us?”
“Only that we would request fresh horses, so that we can ride back to join the fight against the invaders. The horses we rode are spent, but they are some of the finest we have. We would trade them for an equal number. And we would leave at dawn.”
“We will consider that as well,” Urgo said
“Then I give thanks to the Council for letting me speak.” Sargon rose to his feet, the scabbard of his sword held in his left hand. “Now I must accept the challenge of those who have spoken against me. Den’rack was the first to offer a challenge, so I will fight him first.”
Even Urgo appeared surprised at Sargon’s foolishness. But a challenge was a challenge, and every warrior could always exercise his right to fight another. Still, no one watching could now doubt Sargon’s courage. Urgo lifted his gaze, and picked out the warrior standing motionless a few paces away.
“Den’rack, do you offer the challenge to Sargon, son of Eskkar?”
“No, I do not. When I challenged Sargon, I did not know he had come to warn our people of danger. Only a fool fights with one who would offer the hand of help and friendship.”
Sargon had faced Den’rack during his reply. Now Sargon bowed to the warrior. “Den’rack is a loyal and wise warrior. I and all the Alur Meriki are in his debt for his help in bringing us here as quickly as he did.”
Sargon turned back to Urgo. “Now I must face Lugal. Is he here?”
“I am here.” Lugal’s voice came from the crowd. He stepped forward until he stood just behind Sargon.
Urgo had frowned at hearing Lugal’s name. “Lugal is a wise warrior, who fought beside me many times when we were both young. I ask you, Lugal, do you demand your right to combat with Sargon of Akkad, son of Eskkar?”
From the expression on Lugal’s face, Sargon knew the man still wanted to fight. But Lugal also understood Urgo’s meaning. If Lugal offered the challenge, he would be pitting himself against Urgo’s wishes. Fortunately, Den’rack’s words had given him an easy opportunity to abandon the challenge.
“I withdraw my challenge. I, too, did not know that Sargon came to warn us.”
“Then you have done your duty as a brave and loyal warrior,” Urgo said.
Sargon bowed again.
That left only Trayack. Sargon shifted his gaze toward the angry clan leader, but before Trayack could offer the challenge, Bekka held up his hand for silence. “There can be no challenge between a clan leader and an untested warrior. It would be beneath the dignity of any clan leader. Is that not right, Trayack?”
Sargon felt his heart racing. He hadn’t thought Den’rack would fight him, not after they had ridden together for three days. And Sargon knew he might stand a fair chance against Lugal, who had already passed his prime as a warrior. But Trayack was tall and strong and in his prime. He would cut Sargon to shreds.
Every eye in the camp went to the still truculent clan leader. A loud murmur rippled through the spectators. No one wanted to see Sargon’s blood spilled in the dirt.
But Trayack could read tracks in wet ground as well as any. He had to unclench his teeth before he could speak. “No, there is no challenge. It would be beneath my honor to fight someone as young and untried as. . Sargon.”
Sargon bowed to him, and again to the entire Council. “Then I offer my thanks to the Clan of my father. May they always ride in the lands of the steppes with honor.”
As Sargon turned away, a wave of relief flowed through his mind. His luck had held. He might just live to see another day.
28
Bekka watched Sargon and Fashod, escorted by their guards, disappear into the crowd. A crowd, Bekka noticed, that now seemed more curious than hostile to the young Akkadian and his Ur Nammu companions. The arrogant boy, and Bekka had no doubts that he was indeed Eskkar’s son, had upended the Alur Meriki Council almost as much as his father.
“We need to speak further.” Urgo’s voice broke into his Sarum’s thoughts.
“Oh, yes, we need to talk.” He stood and helped Urgo to his feet. “In my tent.” Bekka glanced at Suijan. “Tell the others to join us.”
The clan leaders reassembled inside Bekka’s tent. His wives had built a small fire, to provide illumination for their leaders. Soon a thin stream of smoke wafted toward the top of the tent. As the chiefs settled into a small circle, no one spoke, each man waiting until the women left. Only when the tent flap closed behind them did the discussion continue.
Trayack’s anger returned unabated. “I say we should kill them all. Take them outside the camp, torture them, and then kill them. Let the Akkadians wonder what happened to them.”
Urgo adjusted his stiff leg until he felt comfortable. “You may want to go to war with Akkad again, but I have had enough of Eskkar and his bowmen. He would find out. There are still enough remnants of the old Hawk Clan who would get word to him.”
“Then let this Sargon whelp and his Ur Nammu scum go.” Trayack’s booming voice filled the tent. “The Carchemishi will kill the boy, and there will be no blame on us.”
“I agree with Trayack.” Bekka’s soft words contrasted with Trayack’s fury. “Best to let them go, and let the gods decide Sargon’s fate. But the question remains. Do we ride to war to help the Ur Nammu?”
“You cannot be thinking of helping that filth.” The fire’s feeble light turned Trayack’s face even redder. “Let them be slaughtered. We can fight off the invaders, if indeed there are any Carchemishi in these lands.”