“If your fighters could stay a few days after that, Chief Bekka,” Sargon said, “you might be able to attack any Elamites trying to leave the Pass.”
“Eskkar said that once Modran’s forces turned aside, Akkad would be safe. I will not put our warriors against the thousands of men Modran will have, even in defeat, without good purpose.”
Sargon nodded. Bekka spoke the truth, and the Sarum of the Alur Meriki had done all that Eskkar had requested. Sargon forced a smile to his face. Bekka’s decision was not carved in stone. Circumstances could yet change Chief Bekka’s mind.
A little after midday, Sargon rode the mile and a half from Zanbil to the eastern mouth of the Dellen Pass. Garal and some of the others had gone there earlier. Sargon knew they were hoping to catch more messengers coming from Modran.
To Sargon’s surprise, a large group of Ur Nammu warriors were there, led by Chinua and Fashod. Jennat, another of Sargon’s companions, stood beside Chinua. Den’rack, a new clan chief of the Alur Meriki, was also there. Den’rack had a handful of his own warriors with him.
Sargon hadn’t seen much of his friends in the last few days, as they had been tasked with riding patrol. After an exchange of greetings, he learned that no new messengers from Modran had made the journey. Sargon hadn’t expected any more Elamites to come through so soon on the heels of the others, who arrived only this morning.
Sargon saw Garal sitting on a large boulder by himself, staring up into the Pass. Sargon left the others and strode over to sit beside his companion.
“So, what do you see, Garal?”
“I see nothing, Sargon.”
“What did you expect to find here? A horde of Elamites running for their lives?”
Garal faced his friend, and for once Garal’s cheerful countenance had disappeared. “I expected to see glory. I expected to fight a great battle, to prove to Chinua and Subutai that I am worthy to one day become a leader of our people. Instead, there will be no battles, no fighting. Bekka already has his bags of loot, and he will raid the countryside on his return to the western lands, gathering even more. Even Subutai thinks the same, that our task here is completed.”
“Well, what else is there?” Sargon felt more than a little surprise at his friend’s words. “Don’t forget, General Jedidia’s force may soon be upon us.”
“I know. But I also know that I have almost twenty seasons. Long before that age, Chinua had fought in his great Battle of Isin against the Sumerians. He proved his worth to everyone, on that field of battle. What can I say that I have done on this campaign?”
“You’ve done your duty, and no warrior can do more. My father will. .”
“Your father followed Chinua into the fight at Isin. Now it is time for me to lead the way into battle.” Garal turned his face away, and once again stared up into the Pass.
“What battle? There is no. .” Sargon saw the glint in Garal’s eyes. “You mean you want to ride into the Pass? To do what? Attack Modran’s army?”
Garal nodded. “Not attack his soldiers, but what will Modran have at the rear of his forces? Nothing but porters and laborers, even slaves brought along to work on the siege of Akkad. And horses. There will be thousands of horses at the rear.”
“Their riders will be there, too, guarding them.”
“Did you not say that cavalry would be useless in the Pass?” Garal stood and faced his friend. “Modran will need all his men, so he will dismount his fighters and send them to the front. A small force of brave men could raid Modran’s rear guard, and capture hundreds of horses. We could drive them all the way back here, before we turn north and ride home.”
Sargon opened his mouth, then closed it again. Garal had that determined look on his face that Sargon knew all too well. His friend meant to do it, to ride deep into the Pass, to try and accomplish some great deed to make his mark as a future leader of his people. A foolish idea, but Sargon had lived with the Ur Nammu long enough to understand the things that mattered to a warrior.
Nevertheless, the more Sargon thought about it, the more impressed he grew with Garal’s wild plan. A large number of horses would almost certainly be at the rear, and lightly guarded. Even a small raid on Modran’s army might convince him he had enemies at his back as well as to the front. It might even relieve some pressure on Eskkar and his men.
Even if Eskkar were defeated, the loss of so many valuable horses might seriously weaken Modran’s ability to continue his march and lay siege to Akkad.
The more Sargon thought about the idea, the more appealing it sounded. It would certainly put fear into the hearts of the Elamites. Not to mention that such a plan had never even been considered by his father, or Subutai, or Bekka, for that matter.
Garal wanted to prove himself before his fellow warriors. Sargon, too, had something to prove. A successful attack, unplanned by his father, would finally take Sargon out of the shadow of the all powerful and cunning King of Akkad.
Jennat and Den’rack wandered over. Since the day Sargon had risked his life entering the Alur Meriki camp to plead for Chief Bekka’s help in fighting the Carchemishi, Den’rack had stood by Sargon’s side. In the last two years, the two had become friends as well.
“Garal, what do you see that makes you look so serious?” Den’rack’s casual words broke the lengthening silence. “Are the Elamites coming?” But his lighthearted tone disappeared when Garal met his gaze.
“I want to ride against the Elamite rear.” Garal’s flat voice conveyed his serious intent. “I’ve grown weary of slaughtering helpless guards and pack handlers. It’s time I fought against a real enemy. I think we could strike a heavy blow against the Elamites, and capture many horses.”
Den’rack turned to Sargon. “Is he serious? To take men that deep into the Pass?”
“Yes, he’s serious. So am I. All I’ve done so far on this campaign is question prisoners. I think we could take the war to Lord Modran, and help my father at the same time.”
Before Den’rack could reply, Jennat stepped forward to stand beside Sargon. “I’ll ride with you. I haven’t been wounded in more than two years. It’s time I added another scar to my body.”
Everyone laughed. Jennat, too, had ridden with Sargon into the midst of the Alur Meriki. None of the Ur Nammu had expected to survive that encounter with their hereditary enemies.
Sargon straightened up. “Come. We need to speak with Chief Bekka and Subutai.”
It didn’t take long for Garal’s bold plan to spread throughout the camp. He and Sargon first presented the idea to Chinua, then Subutai, who shook his head and insisted on calling a war council of all the chiefs. Soon Chiefs Bekka, Suijan, Den’rack, and Fashod joined Chinua and Subutai. When Bekka, Sarum of the Alur Meriki and leader of the expedition, took his place, the boisterous discussion that had continued since Garal’s arrival ceased.
Bekka took in the large crowd that stood behind the circle of leaders. Nearly every warrior in Zanbil wanted to hear what was said. “So, Garal of the Ur Nammu, you want to ride at least seventy miles into the Pass, over rough country, and attack the rear guard of Modran’s army of thirty thousand? Is that what you’re proposing?”
“Yes, Chief Bekka.” Garal explained what he and Sargon had discussed. Then he enumerated the value of the raid to King Eskkar, and the benefit to their clans if they captured a large number of horses.
Bekka grunted. “What do you say, Subutai?”
“Any force that rides that far into the Pass is likely never to emerge. Even a wounded snake can lash out at its attacker. To accomplish what Garal proposes, it would take at least a hundred warriors, probably more. The Ur Nammu cannot risk so many men for a raid that is likely to accomplish little.”