The deep pounding of drums came across the wastes as the host of Ash-Negasu marched ever on, marching beneath the golden banners of Arin Avech. Voices cried out as they marched; “Ash-Negasu! Arin Avech! Ash-Negasu! Arin Avech!”
Ishkinil's mounted archers had done as ordered, having ridden down from the ridge and across the bridge, to harass the marching enemy, sending flights of arrows arching through the air to rain down among the foe. Enemy calvary had swept forward to engage, and each time they did, the mounted archers wheeled about and retreat rather than get caught up in a melee.
Ever on the enemy had marched, a trail of dead and dying left in its wake. They had been few against the vast horde that marched, but the enemy had been stung and made to bleed, their cavalry worn down from chasing the swift mounted archers.
As they neared the old river, a last flurry of arrows was launched before Ishkinil's orders turned and thundered back across the old bridge, to urn to the east to rejoin the rest of the cavalry and to replenish their stocks of arrows.
Then came a final flourish of drums and the enemy came to a halt, silence falling upon them. From among their ranks came a score of burly slaves, shaven headed and in robes of white, carrying a golden palanquin, upon which, beneath a shaded cloth, lounged a man in purple robes; Ash-Negasu himself, sorcerer and dread tyrant of Arin Avech.
“If only he was in range of our bows,” Anubarak lamented, “We could end this all now.”
“He will not place himself anywhere that he could be in danger,” Sha-kalal responded. “It is not the way of a tyrant. And even if he was, he has bound many sorcerous wards about him that would render arrows harmless to him.”
“It would not be that simple,” Ishkinil added. “Tyrants have ever proven hard to kill. They prefer that others die in their place, and he lacks not the numbers to do so today.”
From their vantage point atop the ridge-line, among the waiting archers of the Nimru, they could see Ash-Negasu survey their positions and the land about. Then the slaves baring him aloft turned about and retreated back though the assembled ranks of soldiers.
The enemy infantry were much as her own men, with long spears and broad shields and brigandine armour. Among them too were archers, each accompanied by a shield bearer to defend them as they moved and shot, though their numbers were limited compared to her own better positioned archers.
There was a core among the enemy infantry who wore heavier armour, of steel plates brightly coloured silks, red and yellow dominant among them, with helms upon their heads, complete with fearsome faceplates, and double handed long axes in hand. They were the chosen of Ash-Negasu, five hundred men strong, each proven in battle and devoted to the tyrant, for which they were rewarded greatly. They would prove the fiercest of the enemies to battle, thrown into the battle were the fighting was heaviest, to break through her lines. Back behind the main body of enemy infantry was the other elite unit of the enemy, their own asshuri, two hundred of them, along with the rest of the light cavalry that remained after Vanas had defected.
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The enemy outnumbered her men, three men to two, and more so in infantry. The terrain gave them an advantage, but even so the battle would be long and bloody. Many would be taken up by Enkurgil that day.
A drum beat came from the ranks of the enemy and their marching column began to unwind, spreading out along the banks of the dry river bed, a long line that stretched far in either direction from the bridge. Behind them, near to the bridge, remained the chosen, screened by the lighter infantry.
“They are not using the bridge?” Anubarak asked.
“There is little need,” Sha-kalal told him. The river is of little impediment to the march of men on foot. You would not take wagons across it, but men can march with no great difficulty.”
Another beat of the enemy drum came and they began to beat spears against shields, a crashing sound that echoed across the river.
“It has begun,” Ishkinil observed. She drew forth Dirgebringer white-blue flames leaping along its length and held it aloft as a challenge to Ash-Negasu. He would see it and know who it was that stood against him that day, a challenge he could not ignore. The tyrants brooked no dissent against their iron rule, could allow none for fear that it would ferment further rebellion.
He beat of the drums changed and he enemy infantry began to advance, down ino the riverbed, while across the bridge came the enemy archers, their shield-bearers in front providing a wall of shields to advance behind. From there they began to rush forward and spread out before the ridge, each pair, shield-bearer and archer, working together to slowly advance.
“Archers make ready!” Sha-kalal orders. Along the top of the ridge line, the Nimru drew arrows from their quivers, stringing them to their powerful bows. “Draw!” Bows went up and the strings were pulled back taunt. “Loose!” Strings were released and a flight of arrows arched through the air, to drop down among the enemy as they advanced across the old riverbed. Shields were raised to deal with the arrows in flight, many impacting harmlessly but a few go through, to strike he enemy and upon the bed of the dried out river blood began to spill and bodies fall. The enemy began their chant as they marched inexorably onwards, through the dust and stones; “Ash-Negasu! Arin Avech! Ash-Negasu! Arin Avech!”
The arrows now came constant as each man nocked, drew and released as swiftly as they could, black feather shafts falling from the heights down among the enemy. The enemy archers kept their advance up too, and soon began to return fire, though shooting uphill made it harder for them.
Then the enemy crested the southern bank of the river, climbing on up and out, reforming their ranks as the arrows fell among them, leaving a trail of dead and dying behind in the river. The beat of the drums picked up in intensity and with loud cries and beneath the wavering golden banners, they began their advance on the ridge, to climb its slopes and take the fight to the army that awaited them there.