Today was, as Trella had reminded him, one of those special times when he had to address his troops, and give his men a reason to fight. Most soldiers, Eskkar knew, fought only as hard as required. No fighter wanted to die attempting to do more than necessary. For this battle, however, Eskkar knew his men would have to fight beyond even their own expectations.
His thoughts arranged, Eskkar left the field of the dead. Walking briskly, he returned to the Akkadian lines, passing through the infantry and archers until he reached the place where the commanders’ horses waited. Eskkar swung onto A-tuku’s back.
He took a moment to arrange his cloak so that it draped properly over his shoulders. A bronze breastplate, with the image of a desert hawk etched upon its surface, protected his chest. Another plate covered his back, fastened to the breastplate by leather laces over his shoulders and around his waist.
The bronze armor, thick enough to stop an arrow or turn aside a sword stroke, fitted Eskkar’s tall frame perfectly. Trella had seen to that. Countless sessions with Akkad’s best metal workers ensured that the armor hugged Eskkar’s body without restricting his movements.
Thick leather gauntlets guarded each forearm, from wrist to elbow. Last, Eskkar slung his long horse sword across his back, the hilt jutting up over his right shoulder. A bronze helmet completed his armor, but for now, Eskkar left it with his guards, letting his long hair frame his face.
Taking his time, Eskkar guided A-tuku back through the ranks of cavalry, archers, and infantry. The soldiers moved aside to give the King room to pass. Once past the formation, Eskkar let the horse take a few more steps before he guided it around and faced his men.
Silence fell over the ranks. Slowly the shuffling of feet ceased, and every eye turned toward the King. Since Eskkar preferred talking to his soldiers in small groups, his men knew to expect something important.
Eskkar understood that the right words might inspire the men. He also understood that the wrong words might weaken their resolve. More than a few of his soldiers had no fighting experience, and fear would be gnawing at their hearts. To fight against so numerous an adversary took both courage and trust. Words could make a difference.
At such critical times, Eskkar had often struggled to control his nervousness at addressing so many. But now he felt calm, and he knew the words would come without hesitation.
With a final pat on A-tuku’s shoulder, Eskkar took a deep breath. From his position at the center of the line, his voice would carry to either side of the Pass.
“Men of Akkad.” He looked left and right, and saw that everyone had given him their attention. “Today we fight to save our city, and our lands, from the Elamite invasion. Many of you have wondered why we chose this place to give battle, instead of waiting behind our walls with our friends and families.”
“And in the alehouses!” The rude words came from one of the archers, leaning on his bow.
The men laughed, and Eskkar smiled broadly, despite the interruption. This was no crowd of farmers or tavern keepers, sheep to be ordered about in silence, but brave and independent fighters. He had fought and trained with these men, some of them for years, and they had earned the right to speak their minds, even if only in jest. In his turn, Eskkar would tell the truth to them, and they would understand.
“The alehouses will be waiting when we get back home. But to save Akkad, we must first drive these Elamites back down the Pass. Your commanders and I, and Lady Trella, have planned many months for this day. We knew more than a year ago that this invasion was coming. After we took count of our soldiers and our defenses, we realized that, trapped behind Akkad’s walls, we could not withstand such a vast army as now faces us.”
Eskkar told them about the three-pronged invasion forces now marching into the Land Between the Rivers. “Hathor, with our cavalry, has joined together with Isin and Sumer, to break the siege of Sumer. The Elamite horsemen coming through the Jkarian Pass, will be turned back by Engineer Alcinor and his artisans. However here, we must face the brunt of the Elamites. We are greatly outnumbered, but the narrow width of the Pass ensures that we cannot be flanked, and that the enemy cannot overrun us by sheer numbers.”
He let his eyes roam the ranks, and saw no signs of anything more than the usual nervousness that preceded every battle. “Our enemy is unprepared for this fight, while we have trained for nothing else. From Akkad, Lady Trella continues to send us what we need to fight. The Elamites are many, but they have only a few days supply of food and water. Nor will they be able to resupply from their own storehouses. By now, Sargon and a large force of Alur Meriki and Ur Nammu warriors have crossed the northern mountains and fallen upon the Elamite villages and supply lines.”
That brought some murmurs from the assembled host. Many had wondered why Sargon was not at his father’s side. Others wondered why not even a small force of Ur Nammu warriors had come to fight beside them, as they had done in the war against Sumer.
Eskkar held up his hand to quiet the men. “That means the enemy will fight here only with what they brought, and with each day that we hold them off, they will grow weaker and weaker. Though we Akkadians chose to fight here, we do not fight alone. The cities of Sumer, Isin, and the others in the Land Between the Rivers stand with us, even as we stand with them.”
Another cheer broke out, and Eskkar waited a few moments. “So it only remains for us to break the Elamites’ will. When they first came into this Pass, they expected us to tremble in fear at the sight of them and their numbers. They thought they could brush us aside without effort. Instead, we killed many and drove them back. Now it is they who know fear. They ran from our arrows and spears, and today they will dread every step they take toward our lines.”
He gestured down the slope. “Look at their dead, lying in their path. They will trod on their own kind, and know what fate awaits them. When we break their attack here, when they see that they cannot pass, they will be forced to return to their own lands, desperate for food and water. It will be many years, if ever, before they dare to challenge Akkad’s soldiers and the Land Between the Rivers!”
“Akkad! Akkad! Akkad!” The soldiers gave voice to their pride, and this time the shouts continued. Eskkar held up his hand, and at last they grew quiet. “We’ve won the first battle. But today, each of you must fight not only for yourselves and the man standing beside you, but for all your comrades here. Remember your families back home. If we fail here, your families and friends in Akkad will suffer slavery and death. You must fight with as much strength as if we stood atop the city’s walls. You will show these invaders the might of the soldiers of Akkad.”
Eskkar drew his sword and raised it high. “And today, I will fight beside you, and the Elamites will break themselves on our shield wall.” Eskkar took another deep breath, and then, in his most powerful command voice, bellowed out the challenge. “We will not let the Elamites pass!”
Knowing their King would fight beside them brought a roar of assent that echoed off the cliff walls. The spearmen joined in, striking their thick weapons against their shields, until the noise turned into a savage drumming that elevated the men’s shouts to a new crescendo that seemed like it would never cease. The din, amplified by the cliff walls, rolled down the Pass.
Eskkar glanced over his shoulder. He saw the Elamites staring up at the Akkadians, uneasy about this challenge, wondering what it meant, and more than a little nervous about what was to come. “Akkadians! Remember only this — kill the man in front of you! No one, not I, not Akkad, not your companions, will ask more than that!”