Despite their losses, the Elamites pressed on. Their archers had finally drawn within effective range, and loosed their arrows. Most of the shafts imbedded themselves in the spearmen’s shields, but within moments, the enemy arrows extended their reach into the Akkadian bowmen. The Elamite leaders, sensing that their men could close the gap, encouraged the men forward, shouting at them to rush in and kill the Akkadians.
The Elamite advance, slowed somewhat by Mitrac’s arrow storm, burst into a run as they began their final charge. However their once-even lines and formations had deteriorated into a ragged mass of infantry, some still carrying shields, but most just waving swords. Now the attackers were less than forty paces away, screaming their war cries.
Eskkar, peering over the top of his shield, noticed them breathing hard, weakened by their rapid advance up the slope. For a few moments, Mitrac’s archers continued to pour shafts into the crowd of men coming toward them. But at about twenty five paces, the Akkadians could no longer safely target the enemy front ranks. The bows rose up, and again targets were selected from the rear ranks.
The shouting Elamites, relieved to avoid Akkad’s arrows at last, raised their swords and hurled themselves toward the Akkadian shield wall. But before they had closed to within ten paces, Alexar shouted another order, the drum boomed out, and the first two ranks of Akkadian infantry burst into a run, as they charged the oncoming Elamites.
The first line held their spears low, the back part of the shaft gripped tight between the inner arm and chest. The second rank carried their spears in the usual position, the long weapon held level above the shoulder, ready to thrust forward at any target that presented itself.
The Akkadians needed only a step or two to add momentum to their attack, and their long spears ripped into the onrushing Elamites. Sharp spear points burst through shields and bodies, the weapons sometimes passing through a man’s belly and into the flesh of a soldier in the second rank.
Caught by surprise at the unexpected counterattack, the invaders hesitated. It didn’t matter. The long spears were again thrust forward, impaling the attackers. Even when an infantry man lost his spear, ripped from his grasp by a dying enemy, the Akkadian simply lowered his shoulder behind his shield and drove forward, drawing his sword and wielding it as efficiently as a spear, striking upward with short, savage thrusts. For a few moments, the Akkadians continued the killing.
Nevertheless, the overwhelming numbers of the Elamites halted the charging line of the Akkadians. But before the enemy could overwhelm them, Alexar’s drum beat out again, this time with a different rhythm.
The first two ranks of Akkadian spearmen fell back with a rush. They darted and twisted through the third and fourth ranks, who moved forward to take their place. Two more ranks of fresh spears again greeted the invaders. The Akkadians aimed for their enemy’s face and upper body, and the screams of the wounded now rose up, as flesh was torn from bone.
Another wave of enemy soldiers went down, the dead bodies often wrenching the spears from the Akkadians’ hands.
The savage counterattacks slowed the Elamite advance for a few moments. Then, pushed by the steadily advancing rear ranks, the sheer weight of enemy soldiers shoved the Akkadian spearmen back. All the same, in those few moments the first two ranks of Alexar’s infantry had reformed their line, many of the men snatching up new spears from those stocks carried into the Pass by the supply men. Now the third and fourth ranks of Akkadians fell back, dodging between their companions. Then with a crash that echoed off the cliff walls, the two armies came together.
Akkad’s spearmen, even faced with such overwhelming numbers, still managed to take a step or two forward before the collision, using the force of their bodies to drive home their long weapons. But after that, the first rank of spearmen had no opportunity to use their spears.
Instead they snatched swords from their scabbards, and flung themselves against their shields, pushing desperately with their feet, trying to keep their footing even as they thrust their blades into the legs, bellies, faces, and shoulders of their attackers.
The deafening din increased, as section by section, the entire Akkadian battle line stretched across the Pass stood against the surging Elamites. For a few moments, the Akkadians, tucked behind their shield wall, had the advantage. The second and third ranks could still use their spears, driving them into the screaming faces of the Elamites. But then, slowly, inexorably, the spearmen were pushed backwards by the greater numbers of their attackers.
Many of the dead Elamites remained upright, unable to fall to the ground while the two armies pressed against each other. Nothing could be heard over screams of the dying and wounded, the roars of men fighting with all their strength, and the clash of arms.
Despite the onslaught, the Akkadians held their formation. But although the Elamites had not trained for such a close-fought encounter, the sheer mass of the attackers made Alexar’s infantry take that first step backward.
Eskkar realized the danger. Another pace or two to the rear, and the line would be overwhelmed. Drawing his sword, he rushed to the center of the line, already pushed out of shape. “Chandra, Pekka, Myandro, to me!”
Some Akkadian bowmen, with no good targets at such close range, dropped their weapons, drew their swords, and joined the fray. Many of them flung themselves against the spearmen’s backs and pushed with all their strength, everyone straining to halt the enemy’s advance.
Most of Mitrac’s men, however, kept their bows in hand. Each time the Akkadian line sagged rearward, opening the slightest gap between the two forces, Mitrac’s bowmen shot shaft after shaft into the disordered ranks. Meanwhile Muta’s archers, from their slightly elevated position, kept shooting at the Elamite rear ranks, trying to slow the assault.
A spearman, struck by two men at the same time, collapsed at Eskkar’s feet. Using his shield and bulk, Eskkar hurled himself into the gap, thrusting his sword into a man’s face so hard that the enemy’s attempt to block the sword failed. Then Eskkar used the pommel on a second Elamite pressed up against his shield. With help from Pekka and Chandra and the other Hawk Clan guards pushing with all their strength, they thrust the Akkadian line back into position.
Mitrac and his most skilled bowmen still plied their weapons, stepping close to the battle line to shoot precisely aimed arrows from distances as short as a pace or two, into the heads of enemy soldiers. One Akkadian shaft grazed Eskkar’s helmet before finding its mark.
The battle raged on, everyone shouting and screaming, hacking and grunting, men cursing as they struggled, the sound of sword on shield, or blade on blade making a din that now overcame even the screams of the wounded and dying.
Only the brute strength of Akkad’s infantry prevented the Elamites from breaking the line. Pushing with their shields and thrusting with their swords, they piled up the Elamite dead in heaps. The Akkadian spearmen stepped on the corpses and wounded as they wielded their weapons. The line wavered and bent, but it did not break.
Eskkar, as battle-crazed as only a barbarian from the steppes could be, roared his family’s war cry as he fought in the front line. One enemy sword thrust was blunted by his breastplate, and a second by the gauntlet on his right arm. But Eskkar turned aside the enemy’s strokes, using his shield even as he jabbed with his sword.
While he might no longer have the strength of his youth, Eskkar’s height and bulk gave him an advantage. The long years of self-discipline and daily training ensured that he yet possessed plenty of power in his sword arm.
The assault, still in doubt, continued. The longer the fighting raged, the harder the Elamites fought, taking strength from their numbers. Eskkar sensed it, and increased his efforts to drive back the center. But the enemy held their line, and Eskkar felt himself driven back a step. He redoubled his efforts, killing two men in as many strokes, but even that success required another step to the rear.