“By Ishtar, I never thought it would work,” Draelin said, “but you’ve done it!” He slapped Jahiri on the back.
Alcinor climbed to his feet, surprised to find that his legs trembled so much he could scarcely stand. “I knew she’d come down. She protested, but she succumbed at the last moment.”
“If the trail is truly closed, you may have saved Akkad,” Jahiri said.
That took the smile from Alcinor’s face. “Let’s hope that Eskkar and the others are as successful.”
“We still have to get you and your men back to Akkad,” Draelin reminded them. “Remember, there’s that Elamite scouting party that already went through the Pass.”
“They won’t all linger at the mouth of the Pass, will they? Don’t you have enough men to drive them away?” Alcinor had forgotten about the enemy scouts.
“Yes, but I have to leave some behind, to watch the Elamites and make sure they don’t somehow find a way through your landslide. But I don’t think I’ll need to keep too many here. The mountain you moved should be enough to hold them back for a few days, even if it doesn’t send them all running back to Elam.”
Draelin clasped Alcinor and hugged him until he gasped, then did the same to Jahiri. “Take care of your master. I’m going out to see what the Pass looks like, and make sure it’s completely blocked.”
“It is,” Jahiri asserted. “Master Engineer Alcinor is the first man to ever move a mountain.”
And that, Alcinor decided, would be his contribution to the war.
Chapter 16
Half a mile away, General Jedidia guided his big stallion, a rangy black brute with a single splash of white on its forehead, as he led the two-mile long column of Elamite horsemen through the Jkarian Pass. Yesterday his troop had crested the route’s highest point, and now the final leg of the journey to the Land Between the Rivers lay before him.
While the Pass still held many twists and turns, the gradual descent would continue. In two days, three at most, he would reach the open grasslands that lay to the northeast of Akkad.
Once there, Jedidia would unleash his ruthless fighters, and they would loose terror on the helpless villagers and farmers. More important, his soldiers would destroy Akkad’s main source of food and supplies. No matter how determined or violent a resistance King Eskkar offered from his city’s wall, the destruction of the northern countryside meant, sooner or later, the end of the conflict.
To achieve that goal, General Jedidia commanded an army of almost six thousand horsemen. He had received a simple set of instructions from King Shirudukh — destroy any Akkadian force he encountered, devastate whatever countryside he traversed, cut any supply lines, and bring his horsemen down to the city of Akkad, killing or capturing any that tried to flee the doomed city. Once Jedidia reached Akkad, he had orders to place himself and his cavalry under the command of Lord Modran.
That part of Jedidia’s instructions still rankled. The fawning sycophant Lord Modran had obtained the coveted assignment of capturing Akkad with all its wealth, the task that Jedidia knew he deserved. To humiliate Jedidia even further, Grand Commander Chaiyanar — the pompous title never ceased to grate on Jedidia’s nerves — had received the second most desirable objective, the rich City of Sumer. Their machinations had left Jedidia, Elam’s most experienced and efficient soldier, with the smallest army and the least profitable mission.
Lord Modran’s victory was assured. He led enough soldiers to overwhelm the entire Land Between the Rivers by himself. It was just a matter of time. Chaiyanar, whose only military skill consisted of laying siege to cities, would easily pluck the second and far weaker apple from the tree — Sumer. He, too, had more men than he needed. Jedidia, however, had only six thousand men, not enough to capture Akkad or face King Eskkar’s army.
Jedidia understood King Shirudukh’s cunning decision. The King knew his generals could never be completely trusted. He wanted no strong commander in the field who might someday rival his own glory, or perhaps even threaten his rule.
Only twenty years ago, King Shirudukh’s father, after assassinating his liege lord, had seized the crown of Elam. What had happened in the past, could yet happen again, and so the present King of Elam trusted none of his commanders with too much power.
Despite their repeated oaths of fealty to his rule, Shirudukh knew that none of his three most senior generals could be allowed to grow too powerful. If any of them tried to seize the throne, the other two would unite against him. The balancing of power between them meant far more than any mere pledges of loyalty. After all, a successful revolt absolved the oath giver of all guilt or punishment.
Zathras, Jedidia’s second in command, guided his horse alongside. “General! Do you see the smoke rising from the cliffs?” Zathras raised his left arm, pointing toward the left side of the Pass.
Jedidia put aside the gloomy thoughts that had eaten at his guts for the last few months. He lifted his gaze, following the direction Zathras indicated. For a few moments he observed the dark plume of greasy smoke billowing into the air.
“What could be burning so fiercely in these rocks, General?” Zathras’s voice held more curiosity than concern.
“I don’t know, but whatever it is, it seems too far from the trail to be a problem.”
Jedidia studied the cliffs that had risen higher and higher on either side of the Pass in the last few miles. The trail had narrowed here as well. Less than sixty paces separated the towering rock faces. “But this might be a good place for an ambush.”
Zathras turned to one of his subcommanders, riding a few strides behind. “Ride ahead, and warn the advance guard to be alert. The Akkadians may try to slow us down.”
Jedidia had considered the possibility of either an ambush or a delaying attack long before he entered the Jkarian Pass. Months ago, his scouts had ridden the length of the Pass from Elam to Akkad’s northern lands.
They’d found several places where small groups of men might lie in wait, but none, as he recalled from studying the maps, near this particular part of the Pass. And even if a few hundred enemy attacked, they would soon be driven off.
Nevertheless, Jedidia had sent almost two hundred men on ahead yesterday, to scout the trail, and they had not reported any activity. Even if his scouts had been ambushed, they would have sent a warning back to the main column at the first sign of trouble. Nonetheless five hundred riders formed Jedidia’s vanguard, riding a few hundred paces ahead.
A shout made him lift his eyes. He saw two riders galloping toward him, and guessed something was amiss. They slowed just long enough to speak to their subcommander, then resumed their rapid pace toward their leaders.
The two scouts pulled their snorting horses to a stop. “Enemy soldiers are up ahead, General. We counted at least twenty of them, hiding in the rocks on the left hand side of the trail. They shot arrows at us, but the range was too great.”
Jedidia frowned at the foolish report. Of course the scouts had no real idea of how many men might be hiding in the rocks, waiting to attack. Not that it mattered. Unless Eskkar had sent his entire army to the Jkarian Pass, Jedidia’s fighters would brush them aside.
He had more than enough men to deal with any lesser resistance. No, this was more likely some scouting party that had slipped past his advance scouts, or perhaps a small force thrown together in desperation to try and defend the Pass and slow his advance.
“We’ll soon find out how many there are.” He turned to Zathras. “Take command of the vanguard, and clear the trail.”
In moments, Zathras had raced ahead, and reached the head of the leading column. Orders were shouted, and suddenly five hundred heavily armed men were in motion, riding at a fast canter and readying their weapons. The thunder of the horses’ hooves echoed against the walls of the Pass. Jedidia nodded in satisfaction. His second in command had more than enough men to deal with any ambush.