Twenty miles east of the Euphrates, and more than a hundred miles south of Akkad, Ariamus cursed the hot sun that beat down on him and his men each day. Then he cursed the high desert where they camped, the lack of water that plagued them, the ignorant louts who whined incessantly, and the clouds of sand fleas that tormented man and beast. Finally he swore at Korthac, though Ariamus kept that oath under his breath, lest one of the Egyptians who always seemed to be shadowing his steps hear and inform the grim Egyptian. Even though Korthac had saved his life from the vengeful villagers on the edge of the desert, Ariamus found little pleasure in serving his new master, at least so far.
Ariamus would have liked to do more than curse at the two Egyptian subcommanders in the camp, but that, too, would have to wait. Takany, Korthac’s second in command, spoke little, and his eyes expressed no emotion. A brutish man, he maintained tight control of the Egyptians, and they obeyed no order that came from Ariamus without Takany’s approval.
Nebibi, the other Egyptian commander, proved more approachable; he spent more time with Ariamus, talking about Korthac’s exploits in Egypt.
Both had sworn blood oaths to Korthac, Nebibi explained one night after a little extra wine, horrific oaths neither would ever dare to break. Nebibi, at least, understood the need for the new men Ariamus recruited, and did his best to keep the two camps working together. He’d even contributed some of his fighters to help with the training.
Still, Ariamus blamed Korthac for insisting they establish their camp so far away from Akkad and other settlements. Ariamus’s new master demanded a place so distant that no word could reach the city about the growing force hidden beyond the fringe of the desert. Each day the situation grew worse, as the number of men and horses under Ariamus’s command increased.
Demands for food and water also increased daily. The moment he left this cursed encampment behind couldn’t come too soon for Ariamus, even if it meant attacking Akkad’s very walls with his bare hands.
The desolate place chosen for his camp lay well off the usual trails.
Ariamus camped here twice before in his wanderings, each time for but a single night. The high desert might be a little cooler than the hell of sand and wind Korthac had crossed, but not by much. Containing only a few scrub plants and stunted trees growing among the rocks, it had little to recommend it, except for its desolation.
Worst of all, there was no water, which probably explained why wanderers seldom bothered to come near the rocky hills that circled his growing force. One of the first things Ariamus did was establish a work party for a daily trek to the nearest river, more than ten miles away, and had the men haul back as many skins of water as their horses could carry. In one respect he didn’t mind assigning the backbreaking labor. It gave the men something to do, to take their minds off their training and the boredom of waiting for action. Each day, half his troop rode off to gather another day’s supply of water for man and beast. Those not on the water detail practiced their riding, improved their swordplay, tended the horses, and waited. Of course, Takany’s Egyptians didn’t deign to do something so menial as carry water, though they managed to drink more than their share of what arrived in camp.
Ariamus spent most of his time on horseback. With a handful of riders, enough to provide protection without frightening the locals, he rode across the land looking for recruits and horses to add to his band of fighters. He stopped at every village and collection of mud huts too small even for that title. He had gold to offer, gold that first came down the river within a week of Korthac reaching Akkad. More gold arrived each week, payment for the restive force growing under Ariamus, as the Egyptian exchanged ever larger quantities of his gemstones for gold and silver in Akkad.
Korthac’s Egyptians kept control of the gold, making sure that Ariamus used it only to buy men, horses, weapons, or supplies. Not that they needed to watch him. Ariamus was too excited by the prospect of looting Akkad. Nothing would please him more than returning there in power, to take revenge on the shopkeepers and merchants who had ordered him about for so many years. They would bow before their former captain of the guard soon enough.
In the initial planning with Korthac, Ariamus had been more than a little skeptical that their forces could capture and hold the city. But with the reports coming from Akkad, he soon began to change his mind. Eskkar, the ignorant barbarian, had split his forces, and if he remained out of the city, Ariamus believed they would have a good chance to capture the Akkad. Each week Ariamus’s force grew, as he enticed more local bandits, wanderers, and even raw farm boys desperate for any means to escape the endless drudgery of a farmer’s existence.
A shortage of horses plagued Ariamus, but down here, far south of Akkad, the passage of the Alur Meriki had caused little damage to the land and livestock. In this part of the country, marauders and other, smaller clans of barbarians had taken their toll, but most farms and villages had survived intact. Horses remained scarce, but not impossible to get, if you were willing to scour the countryside and pay more than their worth in gold.
Or steal them. Twice he’d ridden into small farm holdings at night, killed the men, and taken their horses. He preferred not to do it, as Korthac didn’t want to inflame the countryside against them, lest word reach Akkad. Nevertheless, Ariamus needed horses for his fighters. Korthac’s plan demanded them. So Ariamus gathered every mount he could find, at the same time as he trained his men to ride and to fight.
Not that most of this rabble would ever become true fighters or horsemen, not in these few weeks. But if they could swing a sword and ride a horse, Ariamus asked little more. The rest, those who survived the coming battle, would have plenty of time to improve their fighting skills in Akkad.
He heard hoofbeats and looked up to see a rider coming toward him, raising a cloud of dust and no doubt stirring up another wave of sand fleas. Ariamus stood outside his tent until the outrider galloped up.
“Ariamus! Four riders are coming in. I think one of them is Hathor,” the man shouted, as excited as a boy taking his first woman.
“Get back to your post, you useless piece of crap,” Ariamus ordered.
“Of course he’s coming. We’ve been expecting him for two days.”
By then the party appeared, crossing the hilly skyline, four men riding toward the camp. Ariamus didn’t intend to stand there waiting in the sun, so he went inside his tent. The visitors would want water and care for their horses before they got down to business. Korthac had dispatched his third subcommander, Hathor, the last two times as well. Upon arriving, he might want to count all the men, the horses, and even the cursed weapons. And, of course, count up all the gold expended.
Ariamus had to admit that these Egyptians were thorough. Korthac wanted every man well fed, well armed, and trained in how to use a sword.
And be able to use it from horseback. Korthac had stressed that point. Not many of his Egyptians could fight from horseback; they preferred to fight on foot. What Korthac demanded from Ariamus was a troop of horsemen that could be used to sweep the countryside. Those same mounted fighters would prevent the city’s inhabitants from fleeing their new master, at the same time as they gathered up new recruits, willing or unwilling.
Two weeks ago, when Hathor came downriver the first time, he’d told Ariamus how Eskkar had split his soldiers and scattered them over the countryside. That made the horsemen Ariamus trained even more important, as they might have to engage more than one enemy, and one possibly spread out over the land.
On his last visit, Hathor had even dared, in Korthac’s name, to inspect the Egyptians, to see them practicing their swordsmanship, and their physical readiness. Hathor “asked” Takany to stage some mock fights with sword and knife; Hathor watched as both the Egyptians and Ariamus’s men went through their drills, or charged back and forth waving their swords and shouting their war cries.
Takany’s dour face had flushed a darker shade than normal at the insult, but he’d said nothing. The more than fifty Egyptians in the camp trained nearly every day, practicing with sword, axe, and knife, and they impressed Ariamus with their skill. He’d never seen better fighters, certainly not in that number of men. He had no doubt that, in a pitched battle, they would defeat an enemy two or three times their number. But Korthac also knew he couldn’t hold Akkad without horsemen, and that’s where Ariamus intended to impress his new master.
With a little luck, Ariamus would soon be second in command. Already he had the larger number of fighters reporting to him. That would naturally elevate him above the Egyptian subcommanders, even Takany, because Korthac, once Akkad was taken, would need Ariamus more than he needed his own forces. Besides, plenty of Egyptians were going to die taking the city, which would strengthen Ariamus’s position. With a little more luck, Korthac might get killed himself. That would put Ariamus in command, since without Korthac, even hardheaded foreigners like Takany and Nebibi would realize they needed someone from this land if they intended to rule here.
If all went as Korthac planned, then Ariamus would have plenty of time to think about getting rid of Korthac. The Egyptian had taught Ariamus how to play the game, but the pupil intended to rise above the master, even if it took a year or two.
The first step was to court the Egyptian subcommanders. Takany was hopeless, but Hathor and Nebibi would see reason soon enough. Hathor was the lowliest of the three who served Korthac as subcommanders, but the one chosen for all the more difficult tasks, or whenever Korthac needed someone with more wits than brawn. The Egyptian obviously wanted men about him that he could trust, but none too sharp in the head, lest they get ideas of their own. As captain of the guard in Akkad, Ariamus had done the same himself, making sure his subcommanders followed orders without asking too many questions, let alone doing any thinking.
In some ways, Eskkar had been the perfect subcommander. A friend-less loner, he kept his mouth shut and obeyed orders, spending as much time as he could away from the village, caring for the horses, and chasing after runaway slaves and petty thieves. Once again, Ariamus wondered how such an insignificant barbarian outcast had ever managed to seize control of Akkad.
Nevertheless, Ariamus didn’t have time to daydream about such things now. He needed to hear the latest news from Hathor, and by now Takany would be waiting for him to come to his tent. Ariamus would have to swallow his pride once again and defer to these cursed foreigners. But not for long, he vowed. Not for long.
Hathor had just finished washing the dust from his body when Ariamus strode into Takany’s tent. Hathor took another drink of water, though the warm liquid tasted more like moldy leather and horse sweat after its journey under the hot sun to this place. Out of the corner of his eye, he noted Takany looked even grimmer than usual. The man didn’t like it when Hathor spoke in Korthac’s name. Ignoring Takany’s frown, Hathor joined the two Egyptians already sitting cross-legged on the sand, and waved his hand for Ariamus to join them.
“Greetings, Hathor,” Ariamus said, his voice filling the tent. “How’s the soft life in Akkad? Did you bring more gold? Are you…”
“We’ve been waiting for you,” Takany said. “Do not keep me waiting again.”
“Last time I came here, you kept me standing outside,” Ariamus countered, as he sat. “I didn’t feel like cooking in the sun while you three whispered secrets to each other.”
“You presume much, Ariamus. You’d better learn to watch your tongue.”
“Please, let’s not argue amongst ourselves,” Hathor interrupted, though he extended a small bow to Takany as he did so. Hathor did remember that last meeting. Takany had insisted on hearing everything first, and then Hathor had to repeat the same message a second time, for Ariamus’s edification.
Hathor got right to his master’s business. “Korthac wishes to know how ready you are, Ariamus, and how many men and horses you have.
The situation in Akkad grows even more favorable. Eskkar remains in the north, and the city is at ease. There are barely enough men in Akkad to maintain order.”
They all smiled at his news, Hathor noted. “Now, Ariamus, how many men will you have ready to fight in two weeks?”
“Two weeks!” Ariamus sounded dismayed at the early date. “Why so soon?”
“Ariamus has almost ninety men,” Takany said, speaking as if the man didn’t exist, “though most of them fight like old women.”
Korthac, in his wisdom, had warned Hathor about the growing conflict between Ariamus and Takany. The sooner they attacked Akkad, Hathor realized, the better. These two would be at each other’s throats soon enough. Either that or Ariamus just might take it into his head to collect his men and ride off, leaving Takany to his own devices. And to Korthac’s wrath.
“We must all work together,” Hathor said soothingly, trying to keep the peace. “A great prize awaits us. Akkad will provide wealth and a life of ease for all of us, and the sooner we take it the better. But time grows short, and Korthac says we need to move quickly.” He turned to Ariamus.
“How many men?”
“In three or four more weeks, I can get another thirty or forty men.
We’re still a little short of horses.”
“You only have two weeks, Ariamus,” Hathor countered, shaking his head firmly. “Then we need to start moving toward Akkad. We’ll have to travel by night, avoiding the roads. Korthac has picked a place to ford the river, and arranged for boats to be waiting for us.”
All eyes turned to Ariamus.
“In two weeks… probably another twenty, twenty-fi ve men. I think I can get mounts for that many, or at least most of them.”
“You’ll need food as well,” Hathor said, “there won’t be any time to scour the land for something to eat, and you must travel in secrecy. If the city gets word that a large band of men is raiding nearby, or approaching, the guards will be doubled and the defenders alerted. But if we move quickly and outrun word of our approach…”
The mood in the tent improved considerably at the thought of action.
Hathor knew the prospect of a good fight would take everyone’s mind off their squabbles. He turned to Takany.
“With our Egyptians and that number of Ariamus’s men, Korthac says we will have enough,” Hathor said, using his master’s name whenever possible. He knew Takany feared nothing on the earth except their leader.
“And weapons? You have arms for every man?”
“Yes, every man has at least a sword,” Ariamus said. “We’ve only a few bows, though.”
“They won’t be needed. And there will be plenty of bows once we’re inside Akkad.” Hathor didn’t mention that, if their men needed bows, then they were finished. He’d seen the Akkadians taking their archery training.
“And Korthac thinks we can win?” Ariamus asked the question, the only one there who would even dare cast doubt upon their master.
“Oh, yes, Ariamus,” Hathor said confidently. “I know we can win. We only need to get inside.” He looked around the circle. Even Takany had stopped frowning, no doubt willing to do anything to get out of this miserable camp.
“Then everything is settled. Tomorrow I’ll return to Akkad,” Hathor said smoothly. “Korthac will be pleased to learn that Ariamus has everything he needs, and that all of you will be ready to move in two weeks.
Two weeks,” he repeated. “Not one day longer. Korthac said there must be no delays, no excuses, no failures, or he will hold all of you accountable.
The minute he sends word, you must be ready to move.”
No one said anything. Whatever Korthac wished would be done.
“Nebibi, you are to come back to Akkad with me. Then you will return to help guide the men on the final leg of the march.”
“I’ll give thanks to Isis and Osiris,” Nebibi said, “for getting me out of this place.”
Hathor turned back to Ariamus. “I’ll need four of your best men to return with me to Akkad. Men who won’t attract attention, and who can follow orders perfectly and keep their mouths shut. Men who know how to kill and are good at it. Do you have any like that?”
Ariamus lifted his brow. “Yes, but I need all my subcommanders to help…”
“If you need help with the training, Takany can provide it.” Hathor caught the momentary frown on Ariamus’s face. “I’ll meet with those you select now, to see if they’re capable. Your best men, Ariamus, nothing less will do. If they’re good enough, they’ll need good strong horses. Have them ready to ride with me at dawn.”
For once, Ariamus stood speechless, his open mouth showing his dismay at losing four good men.
Hathor leaned back and smiled at everyone. His mission had gone remarkably well, and for the next few weeks, the two forces would be too busy training to cause each other trouble. Korthac had shown his wisdom once again by pushing up the date for the attack. Best of all, Hathor would be out of this unhappy place in the morning, and he wouldn’t be coming back. He let himself relax.
“Now that Korthac’s business is settled, what can I tell you of Akkad?”