By the time the sweating men had quenched their thirst, and resupplied themselves with new spears or more arrows, most had recovered their determination. In spite of their losses, the Akkadians had once again driven back the enemy.
Nevertheless, everywhere Eskkar gazed, he saw exhausted men. The archers and spearmen, their arms numb with fatigue, dropped to the ground and tried to catch their breath. The close-in fighting had continued far too long, and hundreds of Akkadians were down, dead or wounded. The Elamites had nearly broken through.
Eskkar watched as men fell to their knees. Others leaned on their swords or spears for support. Those most tired or injured lay prostrate, too weak even to lift their heads. Some of the Akkadian dead lay in mounds two or three high. Alexar’s infantry had been forced to tread on the dead and wounded from both sides in order to come to grips with their enemy. Looking down the slope, Eskkar saw even higher piles of enemy dead.
“Get the commanders.” Eskkar needed to take a deep breath before he could shout the order. “Clear the battlefield of our dead.”
The fight might have ended for now, but much remained before anyone could dare relax. The Elamites could renew the assault at any moment.
However Modran’s soldiers had received a brutal mauling, and were in no mood for a second attack. After a careful study of the discouraged Elamites, many still gasping for breath on their knees, Eskkar realized that the fighting had indeed ended for the day. The second battle of the Dellen Pass was over, and his Akkadians still held the Pass.
Chapter 31
From his perch high on the cliff wall, Shappa had enjoyed a clear view of the approaching Elamites and the defending Akkadians. In the battle of Isin, he’d fought on the level plain, and in the confusion of every battlefield, seen only the massed troops of the enemy horsemen opposing him. Today, however, the incredible sight of the invaders moving up the slope held his attention, until the first flight from Mitrac’s archers snapped into the sky.
Never before had Shappa commanded so many men, not even at the Battle of Isin. Once again, the King was relying on Shappa’s force of boys and young men to hold back a much larger enemy force. Nevertheless, the piles of boulders and jumble of ledges gave his lightly armed force an advantage.
The enemy, taller and stronger, armed with sword or spear, and burdened by shield or armor would have to clamber over and around those rocks if they wished to come to grips with their foes. And with only one hand free, the danger of slipping and falling would beset the attackers.
Shappa’s slingers and bowmen, partially protected by the cliffs, would unleash a storm of stones and arrows at any Elamites attempting to move through the rubble at the base of the cliff. Nor could the attackers simply hold their shields to the front as they crawled over and around the boulders.
Shappa had men stationed at every level, some clinging to their high perches near the top of the cliffs. Projectiles would strike the Elamites from above as well as from the front. And launched from the heights, they would hit home with even more force.
He and his fighters had heard the King’s speech. Most of Shappa’s men had families and kin in Akkad, and every one of Eskkar’s words had struck a chord in their hearts. More important, the slingers trusted King Eskkar. If he declared that the enemy must be fought here and now to protect the city, then here they would fight, to the last man if necessary, to hold back the Elamites.
Shappa turned his gaze back toward the enemy, and studied them as they advanced through the arrow storm. Soon he could pick out his own foes, a block of men carrying shields and bows and heading his way, their faces turned not toward the battle line, but toward the cliff face.
While the enemy would hurl the brunt of his forces at Eskkar’s spearmen, Shappa saw that at least two thousand men would attempt to flank the Akkadian line by scrambling through the jumble of rocks and spires where Shappa had placed his men.
When the Elamites reached the start of the boulders, they turned to their right and into the rocks. They intended to force their way through the obstacles and attack Eskkar’s rear. While the main thrust of the enemy would fall upon the lines of spearmen, enough enemy fighters to turn the tide of the battle were crawling through the rocks and spires, determined to brush aside Shappa’s force of six hundred lightly armed men.
All the same, Shappa and his men were ready. Two hundred were armed with the small bows, smaller even than those carried by the Akkadian cavalry. At long range, the shafts would strike with little force, but close up and in these rocks, at distances of twenty or thirty paces, the arrows would be effective enough.
And for Eskkar’s purposes, a wound would be just as good as kill. An injured enemy wouldn’t be likely to continue advancing over and around boulders, carrying a shield and his weapons. Fortunately, the supply porters had delivered plenty of the small arrows Shappa’s bowmen required.
The rest of Shappa’s men carried their slings, two lengths of plaited leather attached to a pouch. And while his slingers might lack the brute strength of Mitrac’s archers, Shappa knew his men could whirl the sling and hurl a stone or bronze bullet hard enough to take down a man.
In addition, all his men carried their long, slightly curved knives. These blades, made from the finest bronze and sharpened to a keen edge, were intended to slash an opponent. They could hamstring a charging horse or man with equal ease. Against an enemy armed with shield and sword, if it came to that, Shappa’s men would have to rely on their speed and agility, striking quickly and darting away.
Like the rest of Eskkar’s army, Shappa’s slingers had plenty of water and projectiles for their weapons. They had chosen their places with care, and those on the heights could fight without exposing much of their body. His second in command, Markesh, led the two hundred and fifty men who would meet the Elamites on the ground. Shappa commanded the remaining three hundred and fifty, who would strike from the cliff wall.
The clash of arms filled the Pass with the sounds of battle, as the Elamites finally reached Eskkar’s lines. But Shappa only had time for a brief glance in that direction. His own enemy was upon him. He could see them, twisting and climbing their way through the ruins of broken cliff wall and boulders.
“Markesh!” Shappa cupped to hand to his mouth, to make sure his words carried to the men below. “They’re coming!”
Markesh lifted his head, and waved acknowledgement.
Shappa saw the men below preparing themselves for the onslaught. His own men needed no warning. Heads peering from behind their protective rocks and boulders, they could see the Elamites for themselves. The slingers now waited for Shappa’s command.
He dropped a bronze ball into his sling’s pouch, then took one more look at his men. They were ready enough. Shappa moved to the side of the boulder that sheltered him, and flung the bullet toward the enemy.
“Now! Target the bowmen. Kill them all!” Shappa’s voice broke at the last word, but his men understood well enough.
A hail of stones from above and arrows struck the Elamites scrambling toward Eskkar’s flank. Many missed their mark, the missiles clattering or shattering against the boulders. When the bullets impacted a hard surface dead on, a puff of dust marked the spot.
A competent slinger could launch ten or twelve stones in the time a man could count to sixty, and much faster than most men could work a bow. Those men using slings exposed little of themselves as they worked their weapons, while the bowmen had to stand more in the open to aim and loose their shafts.
The savagery of the attack caught the Elamites by surprise. Their swords were useless until they could close with their enemy. Most raised their shields to protect themselves from the deluge of missiles. Shappa heard the Elamite soldiers shouting for their archers to kill the slingers and stop the barrage.