He saw none of the subtle signs of fear, the wide eyes, the trembling hands, the licking of lips. They had come to fight, and if they had their private dreads, they concealed it well. No man wanted to show apprehension in front of his companions.
Most of them had been soldiers in Akkad’s army for more than a year, and many were veterans of the war with Sumer. For most, recruitment into the army had given them an honorable occupation, an escape from the drudgery and near-slavery of hard labor on the farms and in the villages.
From the smallest cluster of mud huts to the grandeur of Akkad, every gathering place of men struggled under the excess numbers of its restless young men. On the farm, fathers and older brothers pushed aside their younger siblings, leaving them few opportunities.
Women, too, were denied them. Older and more prosperous men had the pick of available women, often taking three or four as wives. That left a shortage of women, and those who remained available had little interest in joining with a younger son who had no prospects and nothing to offer in the way of a bridal price.
Without the army, many of these restless young men would have turned to banditry or petty theft, stealing and robbing from others until the city’s guards caught up with them. Then death, mutilation, or forced labor as slaves would have been their lot.
The military gave them status and purpose, even as it provided for them. They didn’t receive much in the way of payment, a few copper coins every ten days. Even so, Eskkar knew his men earned every coin, sweating under the hard training of their leaders and learning the trade of war.
And now, for the pittance these soldiers received, Akkad and its leaders expected them to fight for their country, and if necessary, to die for it. As always, Eskkar felt somewhat humbled by the trust they placed in him.
These men, along with the people of Akkad and its surrounding villages, had made him king. They fought because he and their commanders ordered them to fight, and because they knew, most without fully understanding, that the decision to take a people to war was the most important responsibility of any leader.
Foolish and unnecessary wars could destroy any city, even in victory. Akkad’s soldiers trusted Eskkar to lead them into battle. Whether against Sumer, Larsa, or even Isin, the enemy mattered little. Soon they would contend with an enemy most of them, until recently, had never heard of, the Elamites.
Raised among the Alur Meriki Clan, as a boy Eskkar had never considered the reasons men went to war. You fought because your clan leader ordered you to fight. Surrounded and supported by your kin, you followed your clan’s orders and did your utmost because that was every warrior’s duty.
Whether you lived or died meant nothing. Only honor mattered. To die failing in your duty meant a mark of shame on your family. To die in battle meant glory, or at least honor.
During the great siege of the Alur Meriki against Akkad, Eskkar had learned a hard lesson — that he needed to convince others to follow him freely into battle. Villagers required a reason to go to war. You had to do more than order them to fight. To win their trust, he’d learned to appeal to their own needs to survive and protect their families. Once they understood that, they became willing fighters.
Trella had always comprehended that the men of Akkad needed a reason to risk their lives and wage war. She helped provide that motivation, influencing the city’s women who then appealed to their menfolk to face up to their obligations. For this coming conflict, the women spread the true stories of what had happened to many cities in Elam, and about the enemy’s plan to reduce all the people to the level of slaves.
These subtle maneuverings always seemed a little un-warrior like to Eskkar, but he’d learned long ago to accept them. As the city’s ruler, he no longer disdained using fear, terror, lies, or even murder to protect Akkad and its people from harm, even though many deplored such devices. A leader needed to use every possible tool, however devious, however ruthless, to protect the majority of his followers.
Thanks to Trella, Eskkar never took either the peoples’ support or their loyalty for granted. As she worked each day with the men and women of the city, Eskkar did the same with his soldiers. He made sure that he spoke with every man, regardless of rank, as often as possible.
And so today Eskkar decided that as many soldiers as possible should know the name and see the face of the man who ordered each of them into battle. He owed that one duty to the men.
Unlike the war with Sumer, where army faced army across an open field, the coming battle with the Elamites would be different. The inhabitants of Akkad had a major role to play, though far from the city’s walls. The porters and bearers were, he knew, as brave or braver than the soldiers marching beside them. Many of the common people had volunteered despite their fear, eager to do something, anything, to defend their city and their families.
It took courage for untrained and unarmed men to follow an army into battle, knowing that death might easily overtake them. But Trella had appealed to every city dweller to defend Akkad. She entreated them to serve not by hiding behind its walls, but by accompanying the army into the field, and giving it the support, supplies, and weapons it would need to do battle.
To acknowledge their bravery, as Eskkar rode down the column, he gave the pack men, horse handlers, porters, laborers, and craftsmen as much respect as he gave to the soldiers. They, too, needed to know the face of the man who ruled them. The city of Akkad was going to war. Its inhabitants, like Eskkar, were risking their lives and those of their kin because Eskkar and Trella had told them this was the best way to save themselves, their families, and their future.
Before he reached the rear guard of the ragged column, Eskkar had ridden more than three miles. Near the end of the column, he found a surprise. A small contingent of Hawk Clan soldiers, Lady Trella’s own guards, were riding behind the soldiers. One of them led a horse that lifted its shaggy head and whinnied as it caught the scent of its master.
“A-tuku!” Eskkar face brightened at the sight of his favorite horse. He’d left the animal in Akkad, not wanting to wear it down on a long ride to the north and back. Trella, of course, had sent it on with her guards, to make sure her husband rode his best horse into battle.
And not just his horse. Trella had insisted that Eskkar donned his finest armor and helmet, and carried the strongest and lightest shield. Her fate remained entwined with his own. If Eskkar fell in battle, even in victory, Trella might find the city of Akkad slipping from their family’s grasp.
The lead elements of the army camped that night at the mouth of the Dellen Pass. A nearby stream delivered fresh water, and that luxury was far too precious to ignore. Their journey had not ended. In the morning, Eskkar intended to take his Hawk Clan guards and move as fast as possible deep into the Pass.
The place he’d chosen to defend remained thirty miles away, well up into the mountains, and he wanted to get there before sundown. As for the bulk of his forces, they would arrive as best they could.
Eskkar spent much of the evening walking through the ranks, accompanied by his guards. He wore his cloak, as much to impress his men as to ward off the cold. Many of the soldiers, and more than a few of the laborers, reached out their hands to touch his arm or even his cloak. Often unable to find the words to respond to such devotion, he nodded his head again and again in thanks for their efforts.
When he finally lay down to sleep, Eskkar felt the weariness in his legs. Pulling his warm cloak over him, he fell asleep in moments. His last thoughts were of the Elamites, even now moving toward him. He wondered what concerns, if any, lay in the mind of Lord Modran, the leader of the army Eskkar would soon face across the battlefield.