Quest for Honour by Sam Barone Read Free Book Online Page A

Akkadians turned westward, enemy horsemen appeared brazenly on the hills behind them, as if tempting the retreating force to turn and give chase. Eskkar ignored them, determined to avoid wasting his men’s strength pursuing riders who simply rode away. His main worry this morning remained the possibility of an ambush. Sooner or later, the Sumerians would get in his path, and attempt to halt his force. Hopefully his change of direction westward would keep them off balance for the rest of today.
    At midday, Eskkar gave the order to halt beside a small stream, and the men sank to the ground while they ate stale bread. Some removed their sandals and soaked their feet in the water, while a few splashed their faces and hands. Eskkar ordered that every water skin be filled. The countryside around them had been stripped bare of food and flocks by the enemy horsemen. Only a few loaves of stale bread remained to fill the Akkadian soldiers’ stomachs. By tomorrow, even that would be gone and real hunger would set in. Nevertheless, Eskkar no longer worried about food. That would soon be the least of his men’s needs.
    After a longer than usual break, the Akkadians abandoned the pleasant little stream and resumed their journey. The men trudged through the low hills and sparse grassland. The ground grew a little greener with each step nearer to the Tigris, still a few days’ march away.
    When dusk approached, Eskkar gave the order to halt. The campsite didn’t appear very favorable. No stream meandered nearby, just a half-mile-wideexpanse of thick grass surrounded by low hills. Nevertheless, the seemingly haphazard choice had been selected with care. It had to serve Eskkar’s purposes as well as his enemies’.
    The men still had chores to do before they could rest. Eskkar made sure they collected plenty of wood and chips, and soon crackling fires sent smoke trails skyward, warming the men though they had little to put in their cooking pots. The scouts had seen no game during the day’s march. Eskkar’s marching orders kept the scouts close to the bowmen, and meant they had no opportunity to hunt.
    As on the previous night, extra guards were posted, and a strong perimeter established. The last thing Eskkar wanted now was for his enemies to attack in force during the night. Grond brought over a small loaf of bread that he’d soaked in the last stream they crossed. Eskkar took half, and had to force the tasteless mush down.
    For once, Eskkar didn’t bother making the rounds of the camp. His commanders knew what needed to be done. Instead he gathered his blanket and tried to get some rest, stretching out on the ground and turning his back to the setting sun. Though he lay there unmoving, his mind raced with thoughts about the coming action. As dusk gathered, Eskkar managed to doze off, though he slept fitfully, as he always did the night before a fight. When Grond woke him, night had fallen, and the stars shone bright overhead. The fires already burned low, barely kept alive by soldiers tossing a few sticks on them now and again.
    Eskkar took the hand Grond extended to him. “Is everything ready?”
    “Yes, Captain. The men have already started slipping away. They’re waiting for us.”
    Grond seldom wasted words, which might explain why the two had become good friends. As Eskkar slung his sword over his shoulder, Hathor slipped up beside him.
    “My men are ready, Captain.”
    Eskkar looked around the campsite. Men still moved about, and blankets still circled the dying fires. Grond and Hathor had let him rest as long as possible. “You’re sure you have everything you need?”
    “Yes,” Hathor said. “Good luck to you and your men.”
    “And good hunting to you.”
    With a final clasp of his hand on Hathor’s shoulder, Eskkar disappeared into the darkness, following Grond. Hathor, Klexor, and all thirty horsemen would remain in the camp, tending the dying fires, actingas pickets, and trying to make themselves look as if