Free Conflict of Empires (2010) by Sam Barone Page A

each other, eyes wide with fear. Young girls, with probably less than thirteen seasons. One covered her mouth with her hands, and both trembled as they stood. They looked like terrified children.
    “Please don’t hurt us, master,” one said, dropping to her knees, while tears streamed down her face.
    The other girl, her eyes wide with fright, couldn’t mouth a word.
    At least they could answer one question.
    “Who is your master?”
    One girl swallowed. “Our master is King Eridu of Sumer.”
    Eskkar had to lean forward to hear the words. He grunted in disgust at the name of the former trader turned king. No wonder it had been such an easy victory.
    “Get them outside. You’d better assign someone to guard them.” If they’d been a few seasons older, Eskkar would have turned them over to his archers as a reward. Now he’d have to waste time and men to keep two useless pleasure slaves from harm.
    The thought surprised him. A few years ago, he would have taken both girls himself. Even now, if he’d done any fighting, the thought of burying himself in a woman’s flesh would have tempted him. Now he regarded them as just another problem to be dealt with. Living with Trella more than satisfied his urges.
    “Maybe they’ll tell us something useful,” Grond said, when he returned.
    “Yes, I’m sure they’ll know plenty about Eridu’s rod and what wines he favors,” Eskkar said. “I doubt if they have the wits to remember what he dined on last night.” Remembering Trella’s advice, he took a deep breath. Women, even ones as young as these, still heard everything their master said. “But you’re right. They may be helpful. We’ll get back to them later. Now there’s work to do. I want to be ready if the Sumerian horsemen arrive.”

5

    I n the morning, Razrek was up before the dawn, inspecting his men and making sure they were ready for battle. He, too, had doubled his guards for the night, spreading them out around his forces and making sure his horses were protected. The Akkadians knew he was close by, and Razrek didn’t intend to be surprised by a night attack, especially after warning Eridu to beware the same possibility. The first rays of the sun had just lifted above the horizon when Mattaki galloped up, his horse snorting and throwing clods of dirt in the air as its rider pulled it to a halt.
    “Razrek! They’re gone, all of them! The Akkadians have broken camp!”
    A feeling of dread washed over Razrek. The Akkadians might be flanking him. They could attack at any moment. “Which way did they go?”
    “South, damn them,” Mattaki said. “I said they’re gone. I watched the last of them ride off at first light, traveling fast.”
    “And the archers?”
    “Gone as well. I rode to the top of the hill, but saw no sign of them. They must have left well before dawn.”
    Razrek clenched the hilt of his sword until his hand began to hurt. “What were our sentries doing? Sleeping again. You were supposed to keep …”
    “No, I checked the guards twice last night, and watched the Akkadians myself. They settled in for the night. Damn the gods, they were all sleeping when the camp fires burned out.”
    “Then they can’t be far ahead.” Razrek took a deep breath. No sense appearing worried in front of his men. He hadn’t survived so many years by panicking at the unexpected, and his wits told him to think the situation through. Eskkar was a cunning bastard who always had a trick or two ready to spring on his opponents. Razrek realized it didn’t make much sense for the foot soldiers to leave an hour or two earlier. The Akkadian cavalry would overtake them soon enough, so what was to be gained by such a maneuver? Unless … unless the archers had left long before the dawn. Could they have slipped away without his men seeing them go?
    “Demons below,” Razrek said. “They’re going back to attack Eridu’s men. He thinks he’s pursuing the Akkadians. Instead he’ll be walking into a