28

The first portion of Eskkar’s journey to the lands north of Bisitun was by riverboat. In the last few months, he received several reports regarding the training at the horse camp, and wanted to observe the men’s progress himself. Each departure from Akkad now required careful preparations. As usual, Trella wanted as few people as possible to know when her husband had left the city. Whenever Eskkar departed, the Hawk Clan guards increased their security around Trella, and Gatus and Bantor kept the soldiers on heightened alert. There would be no repeat of someone trying to seize the city by force while Eskkar was gone.

Any who enquired about Eskkar’s whereabouts would be told that he was occupied with important matters and remaining in the Compound. To help maintain secrecy on this trip, the first stage of the journey to Bisitun would be by boat. Eskkar riding out of Akkad on horseback, day or night, would certainly have attracted notice. But few paid much attention to what went on at the docks, especially in the early morning. Eskkar and his companions boarded their vessels before first light, and the two boats departed as soon as the sun cleared the horizon.

Yavtar commanded the boat that carried the king and seven of his guards. Another eight rode in the second vessel. For this visit, the men Eskkar took with him had all been carefully chosen by Hathor. All were archers, and more important, all knew how to ride. For that very reason, Grond remained in Akkad. The big man could ride, but was no horseman, and Eskkar wanted skilled horsemen only. Meanwhile, Grond’s presence moving about the city would convince many that King Eskkar remained within the Compound.

The river journey to the north had another purpose. Yavtar’s men had finished two new boats, and he wanted Eskkar to inspect them. The boat captain had taken over a farm about ten miles north of Bisitun, and installed everything needed to build and test the new boats that Eskkar and his commanders required.

Two days after departing Akkad, the ships rowed past Bisitun during the late afternoon, and reached the small jetty of Yavtar’s farm just after dusk. Every member of the crew slumped against the oars, exhausted from driving the boats upriver. Eskkar had taken a hand with the oars, unwilling to sit idle while others worked. Besides, he wanted to get a feel for the boats that plied the river, and he enjoyed every chance to work his muscles. By now he’d overcome his initial worries about being on the water, and almost managed to enjoy the trip.

Once on shore, they ate a quick meal, then relaxed over a few cups of ale. The difficult journey upriver made sure every man slept well that night. In the morning, as soon as the sun had begun its journey across the heavens, Yavtar brought the three soldiers stationed at the dockyard and more than a dozen villagers to meet their king. Since this was Eskkar’s first visit, he took the time to ask each one his name, and say something encouraging. They might be mere carpenters or laborers, but these were the men who would build the boats Akkad needed. Most just stood there, wide-eyed, and afraid to say anything to the man who ruled their world.

Yavtar’s shipyard, as everyone called the place, didn’t look like much. Three small houses, a few sheds, and a corral that held the dozen or so horses that would take Eskkar and his guards on the next part of their journey.

The most impressive part of the shipyard was the dock itself.

Built with sturdy wood from the northern lands, it had enough slips to hold seven vessels. Three of the slips were occupied – two with Yavtar’s boats that had just carried them up the river, while the third slip held a craft that had arrived yesterday from the north carrying more lumber.

“This may not look like much now, Captain, but when we have forty or fifty men building ships, all those slips will be filled, I promise. Almost all the wood needed to construct our ships comes down the river. Just not enough big trees near Akkad.”

Most of the trees in the land between the rivers were willows or date palms, and even Eskkar knew that their wood wasn’t hard or dense enough for major projects. Good enough for cups, bowls, small tables and chairs, but not for much else. The gates that provided entry into Akkad had all been built from trees floated downriver from the northern forests.

“With the docks in place,” Yavtar continued, “we can load and unload all we need, at the same time we can keep two or three of our new boats floating there while we work on them. But now let me show what I wanted you to see.”

Not far from the docks Yavtar had established four construction cradles. Boats in various stages of assembly rested on each of them. He guided Eskkar to the first cradle, where a half-finished boat sat on its blocks.

“This is the third one we’ve started. The first two didn’t meet your needs, so we tore them apart and started over. But this one will, I think. At least, it will last long enough for us to learn all we need.”

“It doesn’t look any bigger than what’s plying the river now.”

“It is at least five paces longer than my longest riverboat. But what’s more important is that it’s almost two paces wider, and with a steeper pitch to its sides. That means it will ride lower in the water.”

“Why is that important?” Trella had finally overcome Eskkar’s reluctance to admit that he didn’t know everything, and he no longer hesitated to ask questions. Making assumptions, he’d learned, almost always led to mistakes.

“You wanted boats that could carry plenty of men, especially archers, as well as large cargoes to resupply your fighters. But if we’ve got a dozen archers shooting arrows at the shore or another ship, the boat will tip over at the slightest movement. So we need to have a way to keep it stable. Since we won’t be carrying any fragile cargoes, like wine or pottery, we can take advantage of heavier ballast. My builders have worked on an idea that we’ll need to test, but I think it will work.”

Eskkar couldn’t help laughing. “I’ve never seen you so excited. You seem to enjoy building ships.”

“These are new kinds of ships, Captain, and that’s something to get excited about,” Yavtar said. “I’ve got women in Bisitun stitching linen bags with a drawstring top for us. We’ll fill the bags with sand or dirt, and spread them flat on the bottom of the ship. The archers and crew can stand on them if they need to. When we’re ready to go into action, the ships’ crew will shift the cargo to one side or the other, to compensate for the archers’ weight. And if we have to carry cargo, we just dump the sand, and stuff bread or whatever into the sack.”

“Will that be enough to keep the ship from rolling over?” Eskkar could picture archers trying to work their bows while the ship bobbled and wavered beneath their feet.”

“You should have been a ship builder, Captain. No, it probably won’t be enough. But one of my men thought of this. What do you think?” Yavtar took a few steps and stopped before two wooden sawhorses. A thick log about three paces long rested there. It had two support members fastened to it at either end. The supports ended in a thick crosspiece.

“What is it?” Eskkar had never seen anything like it before.

“We’ve been calling it a brace, but that doesn’t explain what it does. When we’re ready to go into battle, these crosspieces will fit into notches cut in the sides of the ship. The log will ride in the water. If the boat starts to lean toward that side, the log will be forced deeper into the river, and it will resist the boat’s tendency to roll.”

Eskkar had noticed that the unfinished boat at the slip had notches cut into its sides. “How will that keep the boat from tipping?”

“Ever try to hold a log under water, Captain? The more you try to submerge it, the more it resists your efforts. And since it projects out two paces from the side of the ship, it will be almost impossible to roll the boat over. It should keep the ship stable enough for your archers to loose their shafts.”

“If you say so.” Eskkar still wasn’t sure how it would work, but if Yavtar thought it would be useful, he would trust the old sailor.

“Next time you visit here, you’ll get a real demonstration on the river. But I think we can build boats that can carry fighters and supplies at the same time. A craft like that would be able to defend itself from horsemen and archers on the shore, or another boat for that matter.”

“I’ll need the supplies, Yavtar. In our last fight in the south, we were out of food. Another day or two and the situation would have been bad. If we have ten times the number of men, we’ll never be able to carry enough food for them, not to mention grain for the horses and extra weapons. Besides, carts and wagons need more horses or oxen to pull them, and will slow our pace.”

“The good thing about Sumeria is that the land is full of rivers and streams, and you should be able to march near one. If you do, we’ll be able to bring you supplies.”

“Something else that would be useful . . . can you build a few boats built for speed and nothing else? We could use them for carrying messages back to Akkad.”

“Hmmm, I suppose we could do something. No one’s ever thought about a ship that didn’t need to carry cargo. Let me think about it. Now it’s time to have some bread and ale for breakfast.”

The next morning, Eskkar and his ten guards crossed to the west bank of the Tigris and rode north, to meet the Ur Nammu and learn how many horses the steppe warriors had brought with them. This side of the river held few farmers, and the land remained mostly empty, though Trella had predicted that in a few years, all of this would be under cultivation or support flocks of sheep and herds of cattle, with all the land under Akkad’s protection. By the third day, the land had turned hilly, and the number of valleys began to increase. None of them were large or had steep walls, but they sheltered good grassland that would be ideal for raising horses.

Mid-morning on the fourth day, Eskkar saw Ur Nammu riders standing on a crest line, outlined against the sky. He gathered his horsemen around him.

“I think we’ve reached the place,” Eskkar said. “Now remember what I’ve told you. Make sure you give no offense, no matter what happens. And the first man who puts his hand on a sword will wish he’d never been born.”

They rounded the base of the hill and trotted the last few hundred paces until they reached the entrance to the valley. He counted fifteen warriors waiting for them. Subutai wasn’t among them, but Eskkar relaxed when he saw Fashod. Eskkar halted his men a few paces from the waiting horsemen.

“A good day to ride,” Eskkar said, one of the traditional greetings used by the horse people.

“A good day to ride,” Fashod replied. “Welcome to our camp.”

Eskkar glanced around. He didn’t see any ropes blocking the valley entrance, and wondered what kept the animals from bolting out.

“How long have you been waiting for us?”

“Only two days. It took longer to bring the animals here than I thought. A few ropes broke, and twice a pesky mare slipped her noose.”

“How many horses did you bring?” Eskkar couldn’t restrain his curiosity.

“Thirty. Are these the men who will need to be taught how to ride?”

“No. Those should arrive tomorrow. There will be twenty to teach, as well as men with tools to build corrals and whatever else is needed. They’ll bring plenty of rope. These men,” Eskkar waved his hand to include those who had ridden with him, “need only to be taught how to fight from horseback.”

“Good. Then the rest of today we can hunt and talk, and begin work tomorrow. Would you like to see the horses?”

“Very much, Fashod.” Eskkar turned to the leader of his guard. “You stay here, and remember what I’ve told you.”

Fashod wheeled his horse around and started up the valley, and Eskkar galloped after him. The rest of the warriors followed, and Eskkar had the strange sensation of riding with a group of warriors, something he had not done since his boyhood days with the Alur Meriki.

The valley curved slightly, and as they rounded the bend he saw the horses, already in retreat away from the approaching men. Fashod slowed his pace as they neared the end of the valley. The nervous animals watched them approach, ears flicking back and forth, a stallion pawing the earth as it kept its gaze on them.

“Good horseflesh,” Eskkar said, his eyes examining the animals. You couldn’t be sure, of course, until you worked with them, but he didn’t see any dull coats or listless movements. Every head stretched upwards, and the wild look in their eyes showed plenty of spirit.

“A few good ones,” Fashod agreed. “Better than most horses that dirt-eaters ride.”

The horses were growing more restive, unsure of these strange men and animals. They’d been driven a long way, but they were still wild, and it would take a lot of hard work before they would let a man approach them, let alone slip a halter over their heads.

The horsemen rode back to the mouth of the valley and dismounted. Eskkar asked Fashod if he could meet his men, and Fashod obliged. Many of the warriors were young. In the Alur Meriki clan of Eskkar’s youth, they would still have been considered boys. But the Ur Nammu had been devastated by war and nearly exterminated, and now the clan needed its boys to turn into men as fast as possible.

The warriors were cool to Eskkar. They didn’t know much about him. To them, he was just another clan deserter or outcast, someone who had joined with the dirt-eaters. Even worse, some suspected he had come from the clan of their hated enemy, the Alur Meriki. Most of all, the Ur Nammu considered themselves superior to any villager or farmer, and their words were cautious or aloof.

One warrior – Eskkar guessed he had about twenty seasons – did more than repeat Eskkar’s name in greeting. “My name is Chinua. I know you, Eskkar of Akkad. I fought with you and your men when the Alur Meriki nearly overwhelmed us in the canyon of death.” He raised his voice so that all would hear. “All of you have heard many times the story of that fight. I was there, and I say that Eskkar of Akkad is a mighty warrior, who saved my life and the lives of many Ur Nammu that day. Despite his many wounds, he helped Subutai slay the leader of our enemy.”

Chinua, which Eskkar knew meant “wolf”, moved to face the rest of his men. “Some of you have loose tongues and foolish words. If any of you insult King Eskkar or his men, it will be as if you have challenged me. I will not forget the blood oath that binds all Ur Nammu warriors with Eskkar of Akkad.”

The little speech, coming from one of the warriors and not Fashod, did more to impress the men than anything either commander could have said. Eskkar wondered if Fashod had suggested it.

“Your words are wise, Chinua.” Eskkar moved his horse beside that of the warrior and extended his arm. “It is always good to greet an old comrade again.”

Chinua clasped Eskkar’s arm in friendship. “We will break many horses for you.”

“And help me train my men to fight as warriors fight.” Eskkar didn’t like to give speeches, but he knew that, at times, words were more powerful than swords. “As the Ur Nammu have fought against the superior numbers of the Alur Meriki, so will my men have to fight against great odds. That is why we seek your help, as brother warriors, so that we can overcome our enemies.”

That was important to remind them, that Subutai and Eskkar had sworn the blood oath of warriors. The enemy of my enemy is my friend.

“It is true,” Fashod added. “I, too, have fought at Eskkar’s side, not once but twice. Though because of him, I have a wife that I must beat regularly, taken in a raid against the main camp of the Alur Meriki.”

The men laughed at the jest, but the words of Chinua and Fashod, and even Eskkar, made them aware of the special relationship that existed between them. Eskkar saw some of the hostility and distrust fade from their faces. A good start, but much more would be needed to bridge the gap between them. With luck, they would have plenty of time.

“Now it is time to feast.” Fashod turned to Eskkar. “Is there any wine in those skins I saw your men carrying?”

“Only one skin,” Eskkar said. “But I will have more brought out, if you and your men think you can drink with my men.”

“A fair challenge.” Fashod turned his horse back toward the camp. “First one back to the camp gets an extra cup of wine.”

In an instant the riders whirled their horses around and burst into a gallop, leaving Eskkar still struggling to turn his mount around. By then the Ur Nammu were thirty paces ahead of him, and Eskkar realized that he would likely be the one without any wine tonight.

After the men finished their meal, Fashod came over to Eskkar’s campfire. He sat down beside Eskkar, so that both of them faced the fire. “Tell me of your plans, Eskkar.”

“First we must break the horses and train the men. I will send orders back to Bisitun, and soon more of my men will come. They’ll bring ropes, poles, shovels, everything needed to hold the horses. Wine and food, too. If this place seems suitable, I’ll send for masons to build a wall across the mouth of the valley, with a gate. That way we’ll be sure the horses can’t break out.”

“All that will take time,” Fashod mused.

“There is time, but I intend to waste none of it. As long as you keep bringing me horses, I will have more men coming to learn how to fight.”

“Bows, arrows, lances, those will be needed as well.”

Eskkar nodded. “All has been considered, including what you and your men will receive in return for your help. If anyone is unhappy with the exchange, come to me and we will work things out between us. I want no Ur Nammu warrior feeling slighted.”

“Will your men obey our orders?”

“They will. If you set the example. Treat them fairly, but no better than you would treat any of your own. They have much to learn, and the sooner the better. As you train these, they will help train those that follow them.”

“It will be as you say, Eskkar.” He stared at the fire for a moment. “Do you think you will be able to defeat your enemy, when you come to face him?”

“The future is never certain, Fashod, but I’ve learned one thing in the last few seasons, if nothing else. Well-trained and well-armed fighters can defeat almost any number of the enemy.”

“Then I promise you, Eskkar of Akkad, that when the time comes, your men will be ready.”

They started the next morning. Fashod gave half the warriors to Chinua and told him to get started on the horses. Eskkar told his men to form a line with each rider ten paces apart, facing Fashod’s remaining warriors, who formed a similar line two hundred paces away.

“When I give the order,” Eskkar said. “We’ll walk our horses toward Fashod’s line. His men will move toward us at a walk. Each of you will guide your horse into the gap between two warriors. At all times, keep the line intact.”

Blank looks and open mouths greeted these orders. “We need to train our horses to fight, and this is how we begin. The horses must get used to seeing other animals coming toward them. They must also think that there will always be a gap for them to pass through. Otherwise they will not charge in combat. Or if they do, they may pull up at the last moment, turn aside, or dig in their heels and toss their rider. Now we begin.”

He moved to the end of the line. “WALK!” At the same time, he raised his sword in the air, held it for a moment, then lowered it. Fashod repeated the same signal, and his men advanced as well.

The ten men started moving. Immediately the line grew ragged. Some animals were impatient, others too slow. The riders all had different ideas about what a walk meant.

“Damn you, look at Fashod’s line.”

The men lifted their eyes to stare at the approaching line of warriors, all moving evenly across the grass toward them.

“Straighten out the line!” Eskkar knew the warriors would be grinning at the clumsy dirt-eaters.

By now the two lines were drawing close to each other, and the nervous horses added to the confusion. They passed between Fashod’s men in twos and threes, a sorry example of horsemanship.

“Keep the line even!” Eskkar made them continue pacing forward until they reached Fashod’s starting point. “Wheel left! Reform the line.”

Two riders turned to the right, which brought guffaws or curses from the mount they bumped into. Eskkar swore again. The idea of right and left wasn’t clear to some of them. That, too, would have to be explained.

Nevertheless, the line eventually reformed. Of course, Fashod’s line had turned smoothly, without a lost step and they now waited patiently.

“Walk!” the ten horsemen plus Eskkar moved forward, the line ragged within a few steps. “Keep the line even, damn you!” His voice would be hoarse by the end of the day if he kept shouting at this rate.

They did a little better the second time. When they’d finished the tenth pass, the line remained nearly straight. Still, Eskkar wasn’t sure if it wasn’t the horses who grasped the concept quicker than their riders.

“Now we’ll try the same movement at a trot.”

One rider started forward.

“Damn you, wait for the command!” Eskkar bellowed. At this rate his voice wouldn’t last the morning, let alone the day.

The sheepish rider had to ride around his grinning companions to regain his place.

“Trot!”

This went a little better. A lot of the work depended on the horse, but gradually each animal got used to keeping pace with the horse beside it. After ten times, Eskkar gave the order for a canter. Once again, the horse and rider had to learn what that command meant, what gait to set, the faster horses being held back, the slower ones urged to move a bit faster.

Again and again Eskkar shouted to keep the line even. As mid-morning approached, both horse and rider were getting weary. The drill seemed senseless, and only the fact that the warriors executed each pass with precision proved that they, too, had practiced such things.

The men were getting tired, which was what Eskkar wanted. Weary horses and men would be less likely to do something foolish or injure themselves. “Now we try a gallop. The sooner you get it right, the quicker you can rest.”

This time the line held together better than expected, either by luck or skill, and the two lines rushed toward each other. Eskkar repeated the drill three more times, then waved Fashod’s men in.

“Enough for now. Take care of your horses, wash them down, and return here. Move!”

Fashod discharged his men as well, but he rode over to join Eskkar. Both men dismounted and sat down on the grass.

“Your men did better than I expected.”

“These men are experienced fighters, good archers, and decent riders, but they’ve never learned how to use a horse in battle. The next group will be far worse.”

Fashod grunted at hearing that.

In ones and twos, Eskkar’s men returned. He waited until he had all ten sitting on the ground before him. “Any questions?”

The men glanced at each other, but one man finally spoke. “Why are we doing this? We’ll never walk our horses toward the enemy.”

Eskkar kept the frown from his face. Better to let the men ask questions, even stupid ones. If he started cursing at them, they’d never learn to speak out.

“Do you know why the steppe warriors are so ferocious?” No one answered. “It’s because they’re better horsemen. They’ve learned that a well-trained horse is worth two or three men in a battle. And this – what we’ve done this morning – is how they train their horses. Their animals will charge toward an approaching group of horses, because they know there will be a gap for them to pass through. And they trust their rider to find that gap. In battle, they strike together, crashing into their enemy. When villagers fight on horseback, they ride up to an enemy, stop the horse, and start hacking at each other with their swords. The warriors let the horse do the fighting. They never stop. They know a wound is just as good as a kill, so they strike at the horse, the rider, anywhere they can, and they keep moving forward. They push through their enemy until they break through to his rear. Then they wheel around and attack again. They never worry about their back, because they’re always moving forward.

Eskkar glanced at Fashod. “Tell them.”

“What Eskkar speaks is true. We train the horse to use its shoulder to crash into an opposing horse, to step on anything in its path, and to always continue forward. When we attack dirt . . . villagers, they break quickly, because they suddenly find warriors behind as well as in front. The moment a horse fighter starts worrying what is happening behind him, what danger may be approaching, he’s easy to kill. Either that, or he turns and runs.”

Horses have a natural tendency to jump over obstacles in their path. They had to be trained to step on anything on the ground, man or beast.

“A good horse takes months to train,” Eskkar said. “A warrior guards a prime animal as much as his wife, maybe even more, because he knows a good horse can save his life in battle. It’s not likely we can ever do as well as Fashod and his men, but the Sumerian horsemen are not warriors. Mitrac proved that a few months ago. With a handful of men, he struck a heavy blow. So Akkad’s horsemen just need to be better trained and better mounted than our southern enemy. And that,” he waved his hand toward the valley, “is why we’re here.”

He stood. “Enough talk for now. While the horses rest, we will practice our sword fighting.”

They worked with their swords the rest of the morning and early afternoon. Then they gathered their horses and repeated the morning’s drill, moving quicker this time through the walk, trot and canter, and into the gallop.

When they finished, Eskkar collected his weary men. “Tomorrow, we’ll start again. This time we’ll narrow the gap a little each time, until there is just enough room for horse and rider to pass through Fashod’s line. And then we’ll start all over again, yelling our war cry and waving our swords. The horses need to hear and see all that, as well. In ten days or so, we’ll slaughter a cow and cover everyone with blood. Your horses will need to get used to that scent, too. Now get some sleep. You’re going to need it.”

By noon the next day, both the men and their mounts stood exhausted before Eskkar. He ordered them to take care of the horses first, then find something to eat and get some rest. As they moved to obey, a shout turned Eskkar’s eyes back to the mouth of the valley.

A small caravan had arrived. Eskkar dismounted and led his horse toward the newcomers. As he approached them, he took a count. Thirty men on horseback, another twenty on foot, and three small carts laden with supplies. Klexor swung down from his horse as his captain arrived.

“By the gods, Captain, if you were any farther north, we’d never have found you!”

The two men hugged each other for a moment. “Two days ride from Bisitun, and you’re complaining.”

“If you had to listen for two days to those carts squealing with every turn of the wheel, you’d be glad to arrive anywhere. Even the demon pits below can’t be that noisy.”

“Have you brought everything?”

“Not everything had arrived in Bisitun,” Klexor replied, “and I knew you wanted to start the men training as soon as possible. Another caravan should arrive tomorrow or the day after. After that, Sisuthros will have you on a regular schedule, with a caravan arriving every three days.”

“What have you brought?”

“Twenty men who claim they can tell a horse from a donkey. Half of them are liars, I’m sure. Three of my best riders, to help with the training. Five men to escort the carts and drivers back to Bisitun. They can leave in the morning. Half a dozen laborers to build your walls, three rope makers, two weavers, two cooks, and five farmers. The carts are full of grain, food, wine and ropes, as well as tools and weapons for the Ur Nammu.” He lowered his voice. “Any trouble with them?”

“No. Fashod and Chinua, one of his leaders of ten, have spoken to them about us, enough for them to give us a chance to prove ourselves. You just make sure of your men.”

“I’ve done nothing but pound that fact into their thick skulls for the last two days. The first one that gets out of line will wish he’d died in his mother’s womb.”

Eskkar grunted in satisfaction. It wasn’t everything he needed, but it would do for a start. “We need to get an enclosing wall built across the valley’s mouth as soon as possible, but we can manage with ropes for now.”

He didn’t want anything fancy or solid, just something tall enough to make the bravest horse turn away. Wild horses tended to be powerful jumpers, and ropes alone might not stop them long.

“Well, you won’t see any walls for a few weeks. They’ll have to make the bricks and let them dry before they can use them.”

Eskkar nodded. He knew all about the construction of bricks and walls. Trella and Corio had seen to that. Probably he would need more masons and laborers as well.

“This valley is the perfect place to train horses, Klexor. We can seal off some of the small openings, and use them to keep the half-trained beasts from the wild ones. And more horses will be arriving in a few days. The Ur Nammu warriors who helped drive this herd here have already left to capture more animals.”

“By the time you’re finished here, you’ll have built another village.”

“No doubt. As soon as the walls are up, we’ll start building some huts for the men. Until then, everyone sleeps on the ground. Now come with me. You and Fashod need to meet and decide how you’re going to train the men.”

The three leaders spent the rest of the day and most of the evening talking. Only when Klexor understood every part of the process did Eskkar relax. The new camp would slowly take shape, but over the next few months everything needed to train both men and horses to ride and fight would be in place. Supplies and fresh men would arrive on a regular basis, and as the men became proficient in their horsemanship, they would help train the newcomers.

As far as Eskkar knew, no one had ever done anything like this before. Usually a village anchored a training camp, or a place to assemble and work the horses. This valley would be dedicated to nothing but horsemanship. Raw recruits would arrive, and when they left, Eskkar was determined they would be efficient horse fighters. The longer he could keep this place secret, the better for Akkad.