The fact that they dared not resist or even protest made their suffering all the more pleasant. Yes, soon it would be time for her to pleasure him again.
One of his commanders walked over and bowed, keeping his head down until given permission to speak.
“What is it?” Chaiyanar didn’t bother to conceal his irritation. Interruptions always meant some kind of trouble.
The commander lifted his head, and shifted position to face his general. “My Lord, one of our sentries just returned. He reports a force of cavalry approaching from the south.” He raised his arm and pointed. “You can just see them from here.”
Chaiyanar frowned. He had all the men he needed, and wasn’t expecting any reinforcements. He’d led the last troop of cavalry up to Sumer’s walls himself, after joining them at the beach. Setting down his cup, he stood, lifted his head, and gazed toward the south. Yes, Chaiyanar saw the soldiers, a long column, moving slowly up the road. Two pennants flew behind the lead horsemen.
The approaching riders certainly were not hostile. No enemy force would travel at such a plodding pace. It was possible that King Shirudukh, at the last moment, had diverted some more forces away from Lord Modran or General Jedidia, and dispatched them toward Sumer. Nevertheless, it did seem odd that no messenger had brought word of such action.
“I think I recognize the red pennant, my Lord. It’s the emblem of Sushan.”
The line of men continued to grow, the men leading the column now less than a mile away. The end, however, remained out of sight. Then a shift of the wind turned the pennant broadside, and Chaiyanar indeed recognized the familiar emblem of the port city of Sushan. He frowned again, and wondered if his uncle had decided to burden him with another general.
“Send a rider out to see who they are,” Chaiyanar ordered. “Tell their commander to report to me at once.”
He slipped back into his chair, picked up his cup, and drained it in his annoyance. Still, the additional cavalry might prove useful. He could extend his patrols halfway to Akkad. With so many extra men, perhaps the siege could be shortened.
“It’s working.” Hathor kept his voice low, though there was no need.
“They’ve seen us.” Naxos, too, tried to conceal his excitement. “Look, a rider is coming our way.”
“Better a messenger than a call to battle.”
Naxos laughed. “It’s too late for that, I think.”
Hathor glanced around. They had nearly reached the outskirts of the Elamites’ camp. Any farther, and they would be too close for an effective charge. “Then perhaps you should give the order, King Naxos.”
“Good hunting to you, Hathor of Akkad.” Naxos twisted on his horse. “Strike those pennants, and sound the charge.”
A grinning soldier a few ranks back took a deep breath and raised a ram’s horn to his lips. A moment later, the deep boom of the horn floated over the land.
Naxos didn’t wait for the sound to end. “Attack! Attack!” He kicked his horse forward, drawing his sword at the same time.
The city of Sumer possessed four gates, all hastily reinforced in preparation for the Elamite siege. The largest, used by the majority of traders, farmers, and visitors, faced the east. Atop the wall beside the Eastern Gate, Jarud, Commander of Sumer’s Guard, stood beside King Gemama.
The height of the wall gave them an excellent view of the rolling farmlands that surrounded the city. Jarud had ordered the destruction of every dwelling within two miles. Both Jarud and Gemama could clearly see the billowing awning that covered General Chaiyanar’s head, and even the naked girl kneeling at his feet.
Now, however, they ignored the thousands of soldiers who ringed Sumer. Instead, they stared with dread at yet another column of horsemen approaching from the south.
A moment ago, King Gemama and Jarud had cursed their luck at the arrival of still more invaders. The besieging forces already surrounding Sumer were daunting enough. Then the lowing call of the ram’s horn changed everything. The pennants vanished, tossed aside as the men urged their horses to a gallop. Weapons suddenly glinted in the bright sunlight.
For a moment, Jarud stared in shock at the wave of horsemen bearing down on the Elamites. Then he heard the war cries of Akkad and Isin rising over the pounding of the horses’ hooves. Comprehension came. “By every demon burning below, I didn’t think they’d get here this soon!” He clapped Gemama on the shoulder, a blow strong enough to knock the breath from the King’s portly body.
Gemama scarcely noticed. “Thank the gods! Look at the Elamites!”
Just out of range of Sumer’s defenders, the enemy host had surrounded Sumer’s walls, except for the narrow stretch along the river. Since their arrival, the Elamite soldiers had stacked their weapons for the eventual attack. Then they joined the hundreds of laborers, those skilled in digging and building platforms, all working together to prepare for the assault.
Now those soldiers and workers on the southern side of the city rushed about in panic, searching for their weapons, as an irresistible river of fierce horsemen engulfed them.
Realization of what was happening swept along the walls. The defenders erupted in cheers, their mood shifting from despair and gloom in an instant.
“Damn me for a slow-witted fool,” Jarud said. “Stay here on the walls, and keep the men alert.” He turned and dashed down the parapet steps two a time.
“Where are you going?” King Gemama shouted the words at Jarud’s back.
“To get into the fight,” Jarud called over his shoulder, “before it’s too late.”
Hathor led nine hundred Akkadian cavalry, every man screaming his war cry, straight ahead for the first three hundred paces, as if he intended to attack the entire Elamite force. Then he guided his horse to the left, and turned toward the southern walls. Behind him rode the finest mounted bowmen in his command. They followed his path, and as they made the same sweeping turn, they shot arrow after arrow at the main force of the invaders, those positioned in front of the eastern wall.
Each man launched four or five high-arcing shafts, and that arrow storm struck confusion into the scrambling enemy. The shafts, not aimed at any particular invader, rained down on men and horses. Two small herds of Elamite horses, likely mounts for the enemy commanders, bolted, adding to the panic. Hathor didn’t intend to engage them, merely keep them away from Naxos and the rest of the Akkadians until the King finished his slaughter.
Hathor and his riders had divided the enemy encircling the walls in two. The largest part of the Elamite army lay to the east and north of the city, but those who had taken up their station on the southern side of Sumer now found themselves cut off and encircled.
King Naxos led the rest of the men, four thousand strong, straight into the enemy’s confused ranks. Trapped between the river, Hathor, and Naxos, more than three thousand Elamite soldiers, many still scrambling for their weapons, were ridden down in a fury of blood.
Outnumbered at the point of attack, caught unprepared, and swarmed from all sides, Chaiyanar’s men never had a chance to offer any real resistance. Most just ran. Some in their fright sought to escape to the safety of their companions on the eastern side of the city, but Hathor’s men turned their deadly bows away from the main force and directed their weapons at any fleeing toward them. Now the Akkadians aimed their arrows with care, loosing shaft after shaft into the panicked mass of besiegers.
Other Elamites tried to move up closer to Sumer’s walls, but the moment they came within range of the archers atop the parapets, flights of arrows from the defenders tore into them. Some Elamites fled toward the river, hoping to escape into the waters. But many couldn’t swim, and for them the river proved as deadly as the approaching horsemen. Those who could swim, tossed away swords and any other impediments in a desperate effort to plunge into the river and get out of range.