By now the Akkadian cavalry had closed to within a few hundred paces. At last the Elamite commanders directing the assault heard the pounding hoof beats as well. One by one, they, too, turned to stare in stunned surprise at the approaching horsemen.
A single glance told the Elamite soldiers that their attack was doomed. The wall could not be carried before the enemy cavalry arrived. The war cries of four thousand riders added to the onslaught, and their swords glinted in the sunlight.
The first flight of Akkadian arrows flew into the air, launched by the riders at the front of the charge. In moments hundred of shafts struck the rear of the Elamite attackers. Chaiyanar’s personal guard and staff numbered twenty men, and four of them went down with shafts protruding from their bodies. The next wave of arrows, aimed higher, struck at the ranks of the Elamite bowmen, most of them still facing the north wall and main gate, and shooting their weapons.
Chaiyanar kicked his horse into motion. He had to get away from these Akkadian horsemen. His soldiers attacking the northern wall were doomed. Pinned against the wall, his men would be shot to pieces. Already he saw Sumer’s bowmen daring to lean over the wall, aiming arrows at the frantic Elamites now scrambling down the ladders even faster than they’d climbed up only moments before.
Without having to worry about counter fire, the Sumerian archers atop the wall killed their enemies as fast as they could work their bows.
The Elamite bowmen tried to turn about to drive off these unexpected attackers, but by then the Akkadians had drawn far too close. Flung lances devastated the Elamites, knocking men to their knees. Then the cavalry smashed into the panicked archers, tearing their ranks to shreds and hacking at anything that moved.
The warhorses added to the killing, hammering aside anyone in their path and trampling underfoot those who went down. Some of the riders, still shooting their bows, continued right through the disorganized ranks of Elamite bowmen. The horsemen now wielded their swords on the rear ranks of the Elamites.
Chaiyanar ignored the turmoil. Abandoning his staff, he raced his horse as close to Sumer’s wall as he dared, weaving the powerful beast around both friend and foe. If he could reach his soldiers assaulting the eastern wall, he might be able to regroup them and establish a defense. Or they might even had surmounted the wall. He swept around the corner, and could see his men still fighting. But they looked no closer to success than Chaiyanar’s northern attack.
By now his soldiers, too, had heard the hoof beats of the horses and realized what the sound portended. The Sumerians added their voices to the din, rejoicing in the arrival of the Akkadians. Chaiyanar glimpsed his men fleeing from the southern wall, and knew that the attack there had also faltered.
Chaiyanar glanced up at the Sumerians. The eastern wall appeared packed with soldiers, and hundreds, perhaps thousands of people. The defenders, crammed atop the parapet, fought like wild men, hurling the ladders down, striking with axes, swords, and spears. Most were not even soldiers, but they had resisted the trained attackers nonetheless.
Chaiyanar reached his men, galloping into their midst, but despite his frantic shouts and waving arms, he could not restore order to his wild-eyed soldiers. All organization had given way to chaos, and the first instinct of every Elamite soldier was to flee. Everyone remembered the slaughter that resulted from the Akkadian cavalry attack of five days ago. Those few Elamites who heard their commander’s words ignored them.
Close on Chaiyanar’s heels came another wave of Akkadians, no doubt those not needed at the north wall killing ground. Not so many this time, but enough to ride behind the Elamite line, and keep them penned into the area between the horsemen and Sumer’s eastern wall.
With a screech that rose over the din of battle, Chaiyanar saw Sumer’s main gate swing open. Instantly a wave of soldiers poured through the widening gap, spears, bows, and swords in their hands. In moments hundreds of screaming Sumerian fighters had raced out of the city and charged into the still regrouping Elamites.
One look told Chaiyanar that the battle was lost. Even though his men still outnumbered their foes, the sudden appearance of the Akkadian cavalry had wreaked havoc upon his men. Fear swept through his disorganized soldiers. Even if they wanted to fight, soldiers, archers, siege workers, and support men were crammed together and unable to form a battle line.
With the charging Akkadian horsemen now augmented by soldiers from within Sumer and supported by archers from its walls, the tide of defeat washed over the panicked Elamites.
Arrows flew through the air. Every Sumerian or Akkadian that could pull a bowstring launched as many shafts as he could. Chaiyanar realized his own escape was cut off. He saw only one chance. If he could overwhelm the Sumerians who had sortied forth from the city, he might be able to get his men inside the main gate.
Drawing his sword for the first time, Chaiyanar waved it over his head. “Follow me, into the city. The gate is open! Into the city!” He wheeled his horse around to face the open gate.
But before Chaiyanar’s words could reach enough of his men, an arrow struck his horse’s chest, digging deep into the left shoulder. With an almost human scream, the animal reared up, eyes wide with pain and lashed out with its front hooves. Then the beast crashed back down with a jolt that loosened Chaiyanar’s grip. The wounded animal kicked out with its hind legs, and that motion pitched Chaiyanar forward over the horse’s shoulder. He tumbled to the earth, his head striking a discarded shield with enough force to knock him senseless.
When Chaiyanar regained consciousness, the din of battle had ceased. Instead of thundering hooves and the boastful war cries of his men, he heard only the usual aftermath of battle — the wretched pleas and moans of the wounded, and the laughter of the victors. He pushed himself to a sitting position, and tried to take stock of what had happened.
His eyes wouldn’t focus and the ground beneath his legs was tinged with red. Blood had congealed over his left eye, and he rubbed that away with the back of his hand. Then he perceived all too clearly the battle ground, covered with heaps of the dead and dying. A second look revealed only Sumerians walking among the corpses, finishing off the injured, and already busy looting their bodies of anything of value. Chaiyanar’s own sword had vanished, and his breastplate, its laces cut, rested on the ground a few paces away.
“He’s coming around,” a voice said.
Chaiyanar glanced behind him, and saw two archers standing there regarding him. One had a wide smile on his face, and his bow was slung across his back. The other held a bow in his left hand, but no arrow rested on the bowstring. He wore a sword on his hip, but the weapon hung in its scabbard. That, more than anything else, convinced Chaiyanar the battle had indeed ended.
“You don’t remember me, do you, Grand Commander Chaiyanar of Sushan?”
Chaiyanar turned again and stared at the soldier holding the bow. The man’s voice sounded familiar. Then Chaiyanar’s eyes went wide with horror. The bowman had spoken in the language of Elam, with the accent of the nobility. Comprehension came with a rush, as Chaiyanar’s mind put the face and voice together.
“Sabatu!”
“Yes, Sabatu. I’m glad you remembered my name, Grand Commander Chaiyanar. It was my arrow that brought down your horse. I could have killed you then, but I wanted you alive, so that you could look into my eyes as I took your life from you.”
“Sabatu, wait. Tell them who I am. We can return to Sushan together. I’ll give you anything you want, gold, a new command, anything!”
“You would ignore the royal order of King Shirudukh?” Sabatu’s words mocked Chaiyanar for daring to suggest such an action. “You would presume to disobey the one who sentenced me to death, and the one whose orders you carried out so efficiently. My wife, my children, tortured and murdered one by one in front of me, while you took your ease in the comforts of your palace.”