10

That evening, Eskkar’s most senior commanders joined him for dinner at the Compound. The gathering included Gatus, Bantor, Hathor the Egyptian, and Yavtar. No other guests attended. During the meal, the soldiers took their lead from their host. No one spoke about the coming war. That topic remained far too important to discuss in front of the servants and guards.

The setting sun hadn’t yet touched the horizon, but the heat of the day was fading when Eskkar and his guests left the supper table in the courtyard. Eskkar led the way to the tiny garden at the rear of the house, a private place usually reserved for his and Trella’s use.

The five men settled comfortably on their seats, relaxing after a long day and still pleasantly full of food after the bountiful meal Lady Trella’s cooks had served. A servant brought a pitcher of ale, in case anyone wanted something stronger than water, and set it on the table before leaving Akkad’s leaders alone. A pitcher of fresh well water and cups rested in the center of the table.

The evening air would be pleasant and far more relaxing than Eskkar’s workroom. The inner walls of the courtyard, whitewashed to a cool white, formed two sides of a square. The house itself, rising up to the second story, provided a third side. The fourth side opened up into the rearmost part of the main courtyard.

A well nearby provided fresh water for the Compound, and Eskkar had washed the dust from his body many times in the last two, no, now nearly three years that he lived there. Four wooden flower boxes extended along the base of the walls. The first of summer’s tulips provided tiny cups of purple, red and yellow scattered among the white lilies and the flax plant’s blue flowers. A bench stood against the side of the house, and two young trees gave just enough shade to cover the small table centered beneath them.

Eskkar enjoyed the semi-private enclosure. The servants respected their master’s special place, and ventured into the rear of the house only for urgent matters. He and Trella had made love here more than once, and they both enjoyed the peaceful surroundings. The trees had grown higher since he first took possession of the house. The assassin who had tried to kill Trella had been tied between those two trees and tortured until he revealed the name of the young noble who hired him. The noble’s head now lay buried deep in the earth between those same trees.

For this meeting, Trella had arranged for extra chairs to be carried in. Of course, Eskkar wanted Trella there. After nearly three years at his side helping to rule Akkad, everyone sought her advice and counsel. He’d once asked her if she wished to be a member of the Hawk Clan. She had, after all, struck a blow against Korthac.

“A woman in the Hawk Clan?” She laughed, a happy sound that turned her into a young girl once again. “I’m flattered at the thought, but I think you should keep the Hawk Clan reserved for men.”

A few moments later, Trella and Annok-sur joined the gathering. Trella’s friend and confidante also had an important role to play in any coming conflict. The fact that she was a woman and Bantor’s wife made no difference. At this table, everyone would speak as equals.

Before she took her place, Annok-sur spoke to the guards and made sure the sentries remained far enough away so that they couldn’t overhear what would be said. Trella and Annok-sur sat on either side of Eskkar, facing the four men across the table.

“Yesterday you men attended the meeting with the nobles,” Eskkar began without any preamble. “You heard their decision. Now it is time for us to talk about how the coming war will be fought. We need to decide what tactics we will use, how we will carry the war south, and what defenses Akkad will need. In the next few months, we’ll face many choices and make many decisions. The more we can plan for the future, the easier those decisions will be.”

He looked at each of them in turn. Gatus, almost twice as old as the others, had fought Akkad’s battles all his life, and he knew more about training men than anyone. Bantor had served in Akkad’s guard most of his life, and he’d proven both his leadership and fighting skills in the battle with Korthac. Hathor, while new to Akkad, had fought for almost twenty years across the length and breadth of Egypt. Yavtar had traded and sailed the Tigris all his life, and joined the fight when the Akkadians overthrew Korthac and reclaimed their city.

They had shared common dangers and fought together, in some cases side by side. All were Hawk Clan members, and each had sworn the oath to stand by his brothers. They all knew not only how to fight, but how to lead men in battle. Just as important, Eskkar valued their ideas, and knew that none of these four would hesitate to offer his honest opinion.

“So tonight the seven of us,” Eskkar went on, “are going to start assembling an army for Akkad. And this army that we’re going to build will be like no other anyone has ever seen.”

Yavtar’s eyes widened in surprise. “Why am I here? I know little about such things.”

“Because, Yavtar,” Eskkar said, “this new army is going to need vast quantities of food and weapons. You know every bend on the Tigris and Euphrates for that matter, as well as every tributary and stream between them. And who better than a river trader to know how to supply fighting men? Just as important, you know how to build boats, and how to train men to sail them. And I’m going to want boats that can deliver men and supplies wherever there’s enough water to float a hull. So, the more you learn about how our new army is built, the better you’ll know how to supply it.”

Yavtar furrowed his brow. “How many boats will you need? You’ll need crews to sail them, soldiers to protect them and their cargoes. All that will take months, perhaps years . . .” Yavtar’s voice trailed off as he saw the smile on Eskkar’ face.

“Yes, and there’s much more, Yavtar. I also want boats that can carry large numbers of fighting men over long distances and at great speed. And I want other boats filled with men who fight on their own, to capture or destroy our enemy’s vessels. You’ll need to find and train men who know or can learn to fight from such a boat.”

“And where will I find these men?”

“I don’t know.” Eskkar couldn’t help laughing at the look on Yavtar’s face. “Remember when you and your boats carried forty of us from Bisitun to Akkad in little more than a day? We were in the city long before Korthac expected, because we raced down the river. That’s when I first realized that boats could be for more than just transporting a merchant’s goods.”

He turned to Hathor. “We’re going to need cavalry, too, but I don’t just want men who can ride. I want men trained to fight from horseback, ride long distances on little food and water, and still strike a heavy blow at the end of the day. We’re going to need hundreds of horses, along with all the things a fighting mount needs to be effective. That means plenty of grain, sacks to carry it in, leather, ropes, cloth buckets, everything you can think of to support a horse and his rider on a long campaign. And weapons, of course. Small bows that can be shot from a galloping horse would be best, but also lances, long swords, as well as leather vests and helmets for protection.”

The Egyptian’s eyes widened at the scope of the request.

“Hathor, please speak your mind,” Trella said, her voice soft and gentle as always. “You bring knowledge of warfare from Egypt, and no doubt there is much we can learn from you.”

“You’ll need a great many horsemen, Lady Trella, probably more than you can find.” Hathor looked at the others, but no one challenged his assertion. “The southern border is long, and distances between Akkad and the Sippar are almost as far. To project force over such a distance requires large numbers of horsemen. In Egypt we had many such horse fighters, all armed with sword and lance. But Eskkar has described the steppe warriors to me, and how they fight with bow and sword. If we can train and supply such horsemen, we would have an effective cavalry. That’s what the Egyptians called their horse soldiers.”

“Then we will call them that as well,” Trella said. “But horses strong enough to carry a man and his weapons are in short supply, and Akkad has few men who can ride, let alone fire an arrow from the back of a moving horse.”

Trella had learned much about the ways of the steppe warriors from Eskkar, including what weapons they used and how they fought.

“I’ve been thinking about that,” Eskkar said. “The Ur Nammu have those skills, and we might ask them to help train our men. Perhaps they can gather horses for us as well. The horses will need training as much as the men. But a well-trained mount is worth at least two or three men on foot in a battle.”

The Ur Nammu were the steppes clan who fought with Eskkar during the battle against the Alur Meriki, who had nearly wiped out the entire Ur Nammu clan. Eskkar had rescued the survivors, and they owed him a blood debt for that deed. Though few in number, they’d offered assistance to Akkad, mostly as a result of Trella’s generosity toward them during that conflict. For almost three years, she’d directed the city’s trade with them, and ensured that they received fair treatment in all dealings. Now that foresight might prove to be helpful in the coming days.

“Even with whatever help you get from the Ur Nammu,” Gatus said, “you won’t have enough horses or trained riders. Besides, there are many battlegrounds in the hills or over rocky ground where horses are useless. We’ll still need plenty of men trained to fight on foot, probably armed with spears and swords. Only such forces can take a battle to the enemy, occupy his land, and hold it.”

“Infantry,” Hathor said, offering another word from his native land. “In Egypt there were two kinds, heavy and light. The heavy infantry wore leather armor, and carried wicker shields and spears. The light infantry carried smaller shields and used hook swords.”

“One line of spearmen won’t be enough,” Gatus said. “We’ll need ranks of such men, at least three or four deep. Enough to present a solid wall of spear points against an enemy.”

“Even cavalry cannot attack ranks of spearmen head on,” Hathor agreed. “Not unless they greatly outnumber them. When spearmen are formed up in a solid line, they are vulnerable only from the flanks or rear.”

“And how will we protect our own ranks of spearmen?” Eskkar had never faced such a line, and his instinct told him to attack such a formation from the rear.

“Well, our bowmen could defend the flanks and rear.” Gatus rubbed his beard, as he usually did whenever he worked things out.

“Bowmen are as difficult to recruit and train as horse fighters,” Eskkar said. “Our heavy bows require a strong man with powerful arms and keen eyes. And he must be tall enough to handle the weapon.”

“We’ll have to recruit them based on their skills.” Hathor leaned forward on his bench, eager to impart his knowledge. “The tall ones with quick wits and sharp eyes become archers. The stronger, less mobile men become spearmen.”

“If we can find them,” Gatus said. “It won’t be easy.”

“We’ll find them,” Eskkar said. “Men still arrive in the city each day, searching for a better life, even if it means fighting. We’ll use every available man we can find in Akkad and the countryside. We’ll break them into four groups. Those with the strength and skills will become archers. Those who can use a spear and sword will be trained to fight on foot. Those who can ride will fight on horseback. And all those too weak or too small for anything else will be used as auxiliaries.”

“As what?”

“Those who help the soldiers fight,” Eskkar explained. He rose and went to the bench against the wall. When he returned, he tossed something on the table.

“It’s a sling,” Yavtar said, lifting the small leather pouch with its two long leather strips. “A toy for children to hunt rabbits, or farmers too poor to afford a weapon.”

“Years ago, a woman nearly killed me with one of these,” Eskkar remarked. The others glanced at him in surprise. He rarely talked about his days before arriving in Akkad. “And she’d just finished killing one man and wounding another with the same weapon.” He glanced around the table. “If a woman can do that much with such a toy, then think what a well-trained and proficient boy or young man could do.”

“Don’t bother arguing with him, Yavtar,” Gatus said. “If he’s convinced these things can be deadly, then I suppose we’ll have to give it a try.”

“It’s a weapon that costs almost nothing to make,” Eskkar went on. “You can pick up stones anywhere and use them as missiles. Every shepherd guarding a flock of sheep can hurl a stone a hundred paces. Slings can be used on hilly or uneven ground where the slinger can’t be easily attacked. Remember, there are many places where a horse can’t go, or where an archer can’t easily plant his feet to work his bow.”

Yavtar tossed the sling back on the table and waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “Most of the land in Sumeria is flat and open. Your slingers will be run down and killed.”

“Not if they’re supported by archers, soldiers, and horsemen,” Eskkar said. “That’s why they’re called auxiliaries. They’ll be used only in certain situations and protected by our soldiers.” He turned to Gatus. “There are hundreds of boys and young men in Akkad who could learn to use a sling. How many such recruits do you turn away each day?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe ten, twenty, sometimes more.”

“In the past we’ve turned down hundreds of recruits,” Eskkar said, “either for being too young or too small. Now we could have an important role for them to play.”

“Slingers will cost almost nothing to train, feed, and house. That’s something, I suppose.” Gatus knew how much the skilled bowmen received each month.

“And for each one killed,” Eskkar went on, “there will be another ten ready to take his place.”

Hathor touched the sling still resting on the table. “You can’t send slingers against cavalry, but they can help protect the rear ranks.”

“I can’t see a bunch of boys with slings stopping spearmen or cavalry,” Gatus said.

“That depends. Korthac had a few such forces in Egypt,” Hathor said. “They did more than just protect the rear. They could harry the enemy before the fight, attack them from heights, or even battle enemy horsemen. Stones raining down on you from above, thrown by an unseen enemy, will unnerve even the bravest infantryman.”

“And they could serve as foot scouts,” Eskkar said, “to protect the bowmen and spear-carriers while on the march. They could also guard the supply animals. And maybe archers and slingers can hold their own against cavalry.”

“We can always give it a try, I suppose,” Gatus said. “Slingers would be a small part of our forces anyway.”

“Don’t discount them yet.” Eskkar shook his head. “Trella and Yavtar are telling us that soon Sumer will be able to field an army four or five times as large as what we can expect to put together. They can pick the time and place of battle by invading the borderlands whenever and wherever they choose. There’s nothing to stop them from crossing the border and fortifying a village or two. That’s why Yavtar and his boats and crews will be needed, and that’s why slingers may be useful. These new tactics could turn a battle.”

He glanced around the table. “Since we’ll be outnumbered in any conflict, we’ll need an army that doesn’t grow weak when they see the superior numbers of the enemy. Gatus and I have been talking about these things, and it can be done. In fact, poor Gatus here has the hardest job of all.”

“I see nothing is going to change,” Gatus grumbled. “I’ll still have to do most of the work.”

Everyone laughed with the old soldier. They knew he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Gatus is going to build an army of soldiers who fight on foot,” Eskkar said. “Not archers. Mitrac will take charge of all the archers, and keep training them as before. But in our new army, the archer’s role will be limited. We’re going to have a strong force of men armed with spears and carrying shields, who can take the attack to the enemy.”

“If you start arming and training so many,” Yavtar said, “Sumer will learn about it, and redouble their efforts to recruit more men. They’ll be convinced you’re preparing to invade them.”

“And if we don’t prepare for war, they’ll use the time to build up their army anyway and invade us.” Eskkar shook his head. “No matter what course we choose, it always leads to war. But you’re right about the buildup. The longer we can keep our efforts concealed, the better.”

“And how will you accomplish that?”

“By training our new soldiers in small groups, and scattering those groups over the countryside, but especially in the north. We’ll still train here in Akkad, but we’ll keep men moving in and out of the city, so that the overall number here remains the same. If we manage it properly, we should be able to confuse Sumer’s spies as to exactly how many men we have under arms.”

“Will that work?” Yavtar sounded dubious.

“It will, though I’m not sure for how long,” Eskkar said. “We’ll work out the details on all these things later. Today we need to think about what our army will be like. Each of our soldiers will have to master at least two weapons, as Gatus says. The infantry will learn the spear and sword, while the slingers will master slings and short javelins. The bowmen already know how to use a sword, so there’s nothing new there. And the horsemen will learn to use the short bow or the longer javelins, as well as the horse sword.”

He turned to Gatus. “We’ll need more training camps.”

“We’ll start training the men here,” Gatus said, “as we always have. As soon as we establish some new camps, we’ll move the more experienced men out to the north, some even farther north than Bisitun. We’ll need a camp for Hathor and his horsemen, another one for the soldiers who’ll fight with sword and shield . . . and spears.” He sighed. “I thought I was going to be relaxing in my old age.” A grin spread across his weathered face.

“Archers have been our primary weapon,” Bantor said, speaking for the first time. “Our bowmen consider themselves the main force defending Akkad. Now you want to replace them with spearmen?”

“Not replace them,” Gatus said, “but support them. It’s true our archers can wreak havoc on our enemies, but they can’t carry the battle to them. Exposed archers, with no shields, run the risk of being run down. But supported and protected by spearmen, they will remain a deadly force against our enemy. Remember, nothing scares men more than seeing a wall of spears coming at them, especially with bowmen following behind.”

“So we’ll use a combined force,” Eskkar said. “Heavily armed foot soldiers, lightly armed cavalry and bowmen, and a support force of slingers. With those four groups of fighters, we should be able to face whatever the enemy sends against us.”

“The Sumerians will have as much trouble finding good horses as we will,” Hathor said. “They’ll arm most of their men with swords and shields, and send them into battle. From what everyone has told me about Sumeria, they’ll use many such fighters, what we called light infantry.”

“Where will the gold for all this come from?” Gatus rapped his water cup on the table. “Even Akkad’s nobles and merchants won’t stand for such an expense, and that’s assuming there’s enough gold in the city. Have you figured out how much this is going to cost?”

“Yes,” Eskkar replied. “We’ll begin with King Eridu’s ransom. That should be more than enough to get us started.”

“I think I may have the solution to that, Gatus.” Every eye went to Trella, including Eskkar’s.

“A few months ago, I learned of a place not far from here that might hold a rich deposit of gold and possibly silver. The time has come to examine the site, to see if it can yield sufficient ores to meet part of our needs. If it can, perhaps we can pay not only for the men, but also for the equipment they will need.”

“And no one has found this place?” Eskkar turned to Trella in surprise. “Wouldn’t news of such a discovery be spread far and wide in a matter of days? Why didn’t you tell –?”

Trella touched her husband’s arm to halt the questions. “I didn’t want to tell you until I knew for sure. Annok-sur brought a woman to me about a month ago. Her name was Calla. Her family had discovered the site and were gathering up surface gold when they were attacked by bandits. Everyone else was killed. Her husband, his brothers, Calla’s two children. She was raped and left for dead. The bandits took all the gold Calla’s family had found and rode off. She survived and managed to return to Akkad, and told her tale to Annok-sur. We’ve been taking care of her ever since. I gave her a small house, and now she works with Annok-sur. In return, Calla has revealed nothing about the find to anyone else. Now you all must continue to keep the secret, until we can first examine the site and, if it shows promise, claim it for Akkad.”

“And what of the bandits?” Eskkar understood how bandits would react. “If they’re cunning enough, they’ll be returning to the place every few months to do their own digging. They may even have taken all the gold by now. If the gold is on the surface, like nuggets in the river or dust in pockets, the site would be easily depleted with a few days’ work.”

“It’s possible,” Trella agreed. “But Calla thinks the bandits just moved on, satisfied with what they had taken.”

“How do you know so much about gold?” Gatus asked Eskkar. “Something else from your past?”

“Yes.”

The single word told Gatus and Hathor that nothing else about Eskkar’s previous experience with gold would be forthcoming.

Trella returned to her story. “Calla knew she could not claim such a site by herself. I promised her a reward and a secure place of her own if she would keep the secret. Still, we won’t know for sure until we visit the place. If the bandits are there or have returned from time to time, we’ll take it from them.”

“With a gold mine of our own,” Eskkar mused, “we should be able to pay for many new recruits . . . and their weapons.”

“The mine would belong to the King,” Trella said, “to be used to pay for soldiers to defend the city and its people. Even the nobles would not object to that, especially if it would lessen the burden on them. The people will know we are not claiming the gold for ourselves. And the gold will flow through Akkad, helping all of our merchants, craftsmen, and innkeepers.”

“You are looking into this?” Eskkar took Trella by the hand.

“Oh, yes, husband. I’ve already started. In the last few days, I’ve considered each of the goldsmiths in Akkad, to see who would best suit our needs. I wanted someone with quick wits, a man flexible enough to adapt to new ways. I settled on a young goldsmith who can inspect the site, estimate its potential, and develop the mine, if there is one. This morning we dispatched him north to examine the place, accompanied by a few soldiers. But do not get your hopes raised up just yet. As you say, there may be little or no gold remaining there. Either way, we should know in ten days or so.”

Eskkar knew that Annok-sur had dispatched a handful of soldiers on yet another mission, but he hadn’t asked the reason. “Any quantity of gold we could get . . . it could make a difference.”

“We must all keep this a secret for now,” Trella said. “As soon as I learn anything about the find, we’ll know what to do.”

“Forgetting the gold for a moment,” Bantor said, speaking for the first time, “what are you going to tell our men about all these preparations? They’ll want to know why Akkad is building up its forces.”

“I’m not sure yet,” Eskkar said. “We’ll need to find something to account for it. Maybe we can say that the barbarians are returning into the northern lands. That would explain what we’re doing. And it would please the Sumerians, I’m sure, to know that we face an old enemy.”

Eskkar looked at each of them. “What I’ll need from all of you are ways to make this work. Figure out what you’re going to need, and how much we can tell the rest of the men. For now, we must keep this to ourselves.”

“You’re not going to tell Klexor and the other subcommanders?” Hathor looked uncomfortable about that.

“No, not yet. Trella and Annok-sur think we should tell as few as possible for now. We can keep them busy enough with the training.”

“How much time do we have?” Yavtar settled his elbows on the table. “I mean, if I have to build boats and find crews, it could take months, even years.”

Eskkar smiled at Yavtar’s gradual acceptance of the plan. “We’ll have to assume that Sumer will be capable of attempting another push into the borderlands as early as next year, but more likely the following year. That’s why we need to start preparing as soon as possible.”

“You’re keeping watch on King Eridu?” Bantor asked.

“A boat from Sumer arrived this afternoon with the ransom. The gold is already under guard only a few dozen paces away. Eridu departs at dawn.”

“Then that is settled,” Eskkar said. “Now we know what we need to begin.”

“Maybe more,” Gatus said, “if Eridu has learned his lesson.”

“Or less.” Trella’s voice held a hint of resignation. “It seems wars come suddenly, always catching one side by surprise. Yet Annok-sur and I have already taken measures to get more information from Sumer and its leaders. But we can’t count on that too much.”

“Let’s just hope whoever is advising Eridu isn’t working on new ways to wage war as well,” Yavtar said.

“Then we are agreed,” Eskkar said, satisfaction in his voice. “But it will be up to you four to make this plan work. If you believe we can do this, then the men will believe and accept these new ideas soon enough.”

The commanders glanced at each other, all of them joined together now to face the challenge. Eskkar knew they would already be thinking of how they could begin.

“We’ll start making our plans tomorrow. But now Trella has some more news.”

“I wanted to tell you what Annok-sur and I have been planning,” Trella began. “First, and most important, we will need many spies in Sumer and the other southern cities. We must search for suitable men and women as quickly as possible, so that they can be settled into the Sumerian cities. Once war is imminent, any new arrivals will be viewed with suspicion, so the sooner we can get them in place, the more likely they’ll be able to provide us with information.”

“How will they get information back to Akkad?” Gatus asked. “It’s nearly nine days on horseback to get from Sumer to here. If your spies disappear for days on end, won’t that be noticed?”

“Yes, but Yavtar can help with that. Merchants will use the river as much as ever. Boats come and go, often without anyone noticing. If we place some of our most trusted men among Yavtar’s crews, they can gather information as they travel up and down the two rivers.”

“We’ve talked about using the river for such things before,” Eskkar said.

“I can always use more good river men,” Yavtar said. “Soldiers make good rowers, and I wouldn’t have to pay them. Well, not much, anyway.”

Everyone chuckled at the idea of soldiers laboring to increase Yavtar’s profits.

“At least you won’t be using any of my horsemen for rowers,” Hathor said.

“Have you any advice for us, Hathor?” Trella smiled reassuringly at the Egyptian, knowing that any mention of his past would bring a pang of sorrow. “You’ve fought battles with large numbers of soldiers on each side, so you must know what will be needed.”

“Well, you will need supplies for the men. The less time the soldiers spend searching for food, the more they can march.”

“Not only food and water, but weapons as well.” Bantor, Annok-sur’s husband and the most loyal of Eskkar’s leaders, seldom spoke, but when he did, everyone heeded his words. “There are never enough arrows on the battlefield. A good bowman can empty a full quiver of arrows in a few moments. Once they are gone, he’s of little use in a fight, armed only with a short sword.”

“That means we will have to make and store large numbers of arrows, bowstrings, and even bows,” Trella said. “But if Yavtar can bring your men fresh supplies of these things, then our archers will have plenty of shafts to prolong their part in the battle.”

“You’re assuming that all the battles will be fought near a river,” Gatus argued. “Soldiers need to find the right kind of battlefield, and it might be a day or two’s march away from wherever Yavtar can bring his boats.”

“Then I would suggest that all of you stay as close to the river as possible,” Trella said. “The advantage of having two or three ships deliver thousands of arrows or fresh food may be as important or even more so than choosing the right place. If we plan our battles in advance, we can make sure of being close to water. And all the major cities of Sumeria are located near one or the other of the two rivers, and there are dozens of smaller streams.”

“Besides arrows and food,” Bantor continued, “an army needs grain for the horses, torches and oil to light the night, ropes for the corrals, shovels, sharpening stones for the swords, even cooking pots. The more that we can load onto a boat, the less the men will have to carry and the farther they’ll be able to march.”

“That’s another problem,” Hathor said. “Our soldiers will travel different distances each day, depending on the land, whether it’s hilly or sandy or grassland. In Egypt we never knew for certain how many days it would take to march from one village to another.”

“We need to train the soldiers to march at least a certain number of miles per day,” Gatus said. “No matter what the land is like.” The others looked doubtful at that idea.

“Would it be of value to know how far you are from your destinations?” Trella paused for a moment. “We could measure the distances between here and the southern cities. Then if we knew the soldiers could march so many miles in a day, we would know when they could arrive.”

“How will you measure the distances?” Gatus sounded skeptical, and rightfully so. No one even knew exactly how far it was from Akkad to Larsa, which was the closest city.

“We could train walkers,” Trella said. “Men who would pace off a certain distance with each step. Every hundred steps, he moves a pebble from one hand to the other. That way we could count the steps between Akkad and the southern cities and villages.”

“It would also be good to know when we’ve reached certain places on the journey,” Hathor said, leaning forward on the table. “We should learn the location of every landmark between here and Sumer.”

“And make a few landmarks of our own where there are none,” Eskkar said. “If our walkers marked trees and rocks as they went, or built up piles of stones, we would know how far we’d traveled.”

“That would be useful on the river as well,” Yavtar said. “In time of war, the river is safer at night. If the landmarks could be seen at night, that would be even better. But when there’s no moon, there’s little that can be seen.”

“The best landmark at night is a fire,” Trella said. “It doesn’t have to be a real fire. A candle in an open box, facing the water, can be seen over great distances, I think.”

“You would need help from villagers living in those places up and down the rivers,” Gatus said. “Can that be done?”

“Perhaps. Let Annok-sur and me think about that one. What else will your marching armies need?”

“Maps.” Eskkar remembered the maps they had used to fight the Alur Meriki. “If we had good maps, we could mark our progress against the landmarks, and know how far we’ve traveled, and how far we had to go.”

“Isn’t that a lot to ask?” Bantor said. “Can we show that much information on a piece of cloth?”

“No, not one piece,” Trella said. “But a dozen or more would be enough to show everything. You will need to take a few clerks with you to war, Eskkar. They could keep track of the maps and landmarks, and mark off each day’s progress.”

Eskkar groaned and everyone laughed. Since he’d become Akkad’s ruler, and even before, the clerks of the nobles and Trella’s own people followed him everywhere, marking down every expense on a pottery shard, a permanent record of every activity. Already the shelves in the storage rooms creaked under the weight.

“Clerks going to war.” Eskkar shook his head at the idea.

“All this is well and good,” Gatus said, “but what happens when we reach Larsa? We’ll have to besiege it, fight our way in. And from what Yavtar tells us, all of Sumeria is building walls around every dung heap, let alone Larsa and Isin and the other large cities.”

“Yes, you’re right, Gatus.” Trella thought about that for a moment. “I think we need to send Corio’s people to visit all the cities in Sumeria. They should examine the walls for weak points, and determine the best method and place to attack each city. That way, when the army arrives, it can get right to work without having to worry about what to do.”

“You’re fighting the war in advance, Lady Trella,” Hathor said. “But all these ideas are good ones. The more prepared we are, the more the men will want to fight.”

“Men always fight better when they think they have some advantage,” Eskkar said.

“I’ve one more suggestion to make.” Trella turned to Annok-sur. “Actually, Annok-sur suggested it. You need a special place to meet and talk about your plans, a private place. A place with only one purpose. We could build another room here on the second level, and dedicate the new chamber to planning the war. We would enter it only from the workroom, so only the most trusted servants will ever see the inside.”

“And we can display the maps there as well,” Bantor said, “perhaps even paint them on the walls.”

“Remember the model of Akkad that Corio’s apprentices built for the first wall?” Eskkar had looked at it in astonishment: a miniature city displayed in perfect detail on a long table. “If we had something like that, something that stretched from Akkad to Sumer, we could use it to plan the marches, and even mark possible battlefields.”

“That will take a big room, indeed,” Gatus said, drawing another laugh.

“I’ll speak to Corio about it,” Trella said. “He’ll have to build the new room anyway, so he’ll be spending plenty of time here.”

“If we can do all or even most of the things you’ve said,” Hathor leaned forward, unable to conceal his eagerness, “I think we’ll be able to wage a new kind of war. Such advantages would be worth a great number of men.”

“The more we know about our enemy,” Eskkar said, “the easier this fight will be. If our spies can learn about our enemies, how many men they have, how well trained, what weapons they prefer, how they’re fed and resupplied, we can use that knowledge to help plan for battle. That will make our soldiers fight even harder.”

“And if we train them,” Gatus said, “really train them well, they’ll stand up to anything Sumeria can send against us.”

“You’ll take charge of that, Gatus,” Eskkar said. “No one understands how to train men as well as you do.”

Everyone nodded agreement. During the battle with the Alur Meriki, Gatus’s training had transformed more than a few Akkadians into the equal of even the strongest barbarians.

“So, Gatus, you will need to outdo yourself this time,” Eskkar said. “And all of you will have more ideas on how to make our forces stronger in the months to come. I’m sure we can think of even more ways to aid the soldiers.”

They continued speaking long into the night. Hathor had more to impart about cities fighting against each other, and Eskkar knew something about that, too, from his days as a soldier for hire. Trella asked many more questions, committing to memory every word that was spoken, every useful fact that she could glean from the men’s words. In the coming weeks and months, she would know, or soon learn, everything that would be needed to prepare for and support such a war.

At last Gatus yawned and declared he needed to get to sleep. A glance up at the moon showed that midnight had come and gone.

Trella had the last words. “Let us hope war never comes. But if we must fight again, then let us be well prepared. Remember, like the days when we faced the Alur Meriki, this is a war we dare not lose.”