Erak's Ransom (21 page)

Halt considered the situation. He and Gilan might break through the Tualaghi lines under cover of darkness. But even that wasn't certain. Expert though they might be at unseen movement, the ground was virtually devoid of cover. And scores of eyes would be on watch. And if they did succeed in getting past the Tualaghi, then what? They'd be on foot, with the nearest help many kilometres away. By the time they reached Mararoc to bring help, Selethen and his men would be dead. Evanlyn, Horace and Svengal too. If they surrendered now, they'd all be in reasonable condition and an opportunity might arise to escape or turn the tables on their captors. Better now than later when they were weakened and half mad from thirst.
'Very well,' he said. 'Let's discuss terms.'

Will was checking the straps and ties that attached his equipment to Tug's saddle when he heard footsteps crunching the sand behind him. He turned to see Umar approaching, a worried look on his face.
'There's something you ought to know before you leave,' he said.
It was four days after the race — a race that was already set to become part of the Bedullin verbal history. In that time, Will and Tug had been feted by the tribe, and fussed over nonstop by Cielema. The cheerful, grinning foreigner and his amazing barrel-bodied horse had become popular figures in the camp. Hassan and Will had become good friends too — the young man bore no grudge for being defeated in the race and losing his claim to Tug. The Bedullin were inveterate gamblers, as Will had noticed, but they accepted their losses without complaint.
The friendship was helped along by the fact that Umar, delighted with the outcome of the race, had presented Hassan with a horse from his own herd — a blood relative of Sandstorm. Hassan was overjoyed and had volunteered to guide Will on his way to Mararoc.
The mystery of the faltering Northseeker had finally been solved. Asked how he had planned to navigate the trackless desert, Will had shown them the Northseeker and explained the secret of its magnetic properties. To demonstrate, he had brought the blade of his saxe knife close to the needle and showed how it wavered away from the earth's magnetic field. It took only seconds for Umar to see the connection.
'You rode through the Red Hills?' he said and Will confirmed the fact. 'But they're almost pure iron — huge deposits of iron. Surely that would serve to make your instrument unreliable.'
As Will realised the truth of the statement, he felt a small sense of relief. In the back of his mind, he had still harboured a vague suspicion that Selethen had given him a false map. On top of that, he felt an unreasonable guilt that he had somehow failed Halt's belief in him. Now that he could see a reason for the mistake — and realised that he couldn't have foreseen it — he could lay those fears to rest.
While he had been preparing Tug for their departure, a rider had come in from the desert — dusty and dishevelled, riding a tired horse. He had reported straight away to Umar's tent. Will had watched with no particular interest. Doubtless it was some business of concern only to the Bedullin. Now, however, he wasn't so sure.
He followed Umar to the wide-spread, low tent that he occupied with Cielema. Stooping, he entered and made the required lips-brow-lips greeting gesture. In the past few days, he had become familiar with it.
The tent was floored with a thick carpet, with soft cushions scattered across it. He selected one and sat cross-legged on it in the tribe's fashion. A Bedullin he hadn't seen before was sitting on another, eating and drinking eagerly as Cielema plied him with fruit and water. He looked up at Will, then glanced curiously at Umar.
'This is Jamil, one of our scouts,' Umar explained and the Bedullin nodded in greeting. He was in his thirties, Will estimated, although it was hard to tell with the Bedullin men, whose skin was usually brown and heavily lined by the sun.
'This is the foreigner I told you about. His name is Will.'
Again Will made the greeting gesture. It seemed appropriate, he thought. Jamil seemed a little surprised that a foreigner should have a grasp of Bedullin etiquette and he responded hastily. Will glanced at Umar, a question on his face. The
Aseikh
gestured to Jamil to proceed.
'Tell Will what you have told us.'
Jamil finished eating an orange, licked the last of the juice off his fingers, and wiped his mouth with a cloth.
'You were travelling with a group of Arridi soldiers?' he said. It was as much a statement as a question. Will nodded confirmation, his brow furrowing. He sensed, from the man's serious manner, that something had gone wrong.
'That's right,' he said.
'And there were other foreigners as well ... two of them dressed as you are.' He indicated the mottled brown cloak Will was wearing. Again, Will nodded. The Bedullin scout shook his head in displeasure at the fact and Will's premonition of impending bad news deepened.
'What's happened to them?' he asked. The Bedullin looked at him a moment, then, thankfully, came straight to the point without any useless attempts to soften the news.
'They've been captured by the Tualaghi,' he said.
Will looked quickly at Umar. 'The Tualaghi?' he queried.
The
Aseikh's
expression was one of intense distaste.
'Brigands. Bandits. The Forgotten of God. They're nomads like us but they prey on other travellers and undefended villages. They encircled your friends and captured them. Now they're taking them towards the northern massif, along with
Wakir
Seley el'then and his surviving men. There was a skirmish,' he added in explanation and Will felt a stab of fear.
'A skirmish? Were any of the foreigners hurt?'
Jamil shook his head. 'No. They were taken and chained with the other foreigner. They are captives like him. It seems that — '
This was all moving too fast for Will. He held up a hand to stop the Bedullin's account.
'Just a moment! The other foreigner? What other foreigner are you talking about?'
Jamil nodded apologetically, realising that more explanation was required.
'The Tualaghi had captured another foreigner. One of the wild men from the north. There was one of them with your group too,' he added.
Will's head was spinning. There could only be one person he was talking about. But Erak had been in Arridi hands last he had heard.
'This is crazy,' he said. 'You must mean Erak. But he was being taken to Mararoc with an Arridi caravan. How has he suddenly turned up with these Tualaghi?'
Jamil shrugged. Umar rubbed his nose thougthfully.
'Perhaps the Tualaghi attacked the caravan and captured the Northman?' he suggested.
Will nodded to himself, thinking furiously. If that had been the case, Gilan and Halt would have been able to read the signs of the attack. Then they would have set out after the ambushers, with Selethen and his men in company. He shook his head to clear his thoughts. It didn't matter
how
it had happened, he realised. The plain fact was that it
had
happened.
He was surprised, however, that Halt and Gilan had been so careless as to allow the Tualaghi bandits to get wind of them.
'Do you have any idea how the Tualaghi learned that my friends were tracking them?' he asked.
This time, the Bedullin's eyes slid away in shame. He hesitated a moment before he could bring himself to answer.
'I'm afraid I led them to your friends' camp,' he said. And as Will began to rise angrily from his sitting position, he hastily held out a hand.
'No! Please! It was unintentional! I had no idea your friends were there. I saw the Tualaghi party in the distance and I went closer to find out more about them. They were a much larger party than usual — at least two hundred, maybe more. After dark, I crept close to their camp to see more clearly. That was when I saw the Northman — they had him chained up in the open.
'I left before dawn and headed towards here. I must have passed close to your friends' camp without ever seeing them. But a Tualaghi rearguard scout found my tracks and followed them later that morning — and they led him to your friends. They were travelling parallel to the Veiled Ones, several kilometres away. If I hadn't inadvertently crossed their track, the Tualaghi would never have known they were there.'
'How do you know all this?' Will asked.
The scout replied unhappily. 'I went back the next day to check further. I had no idea then that my tracks had been discovered. But I saw where the Tualaghi had followed me, saw where they crossed your friends' path and turned to follow them. They must have thought I was part of that group. I'm sorry, Will. I had no idea I was bringing danger to your friends.'
Will waved the apology aside. It hadn't been Jamil's fault, he realised. It had just been damnable bad luck — Jamil had been the chance, unexpected element that had led to Halt and the others being captured. As Halt had told him so many times,
if anything can go wrong, it will.
'You couldn't have known,' he said. 'Do you have any idea where they might be taking them?' He addressed the question to both Jamil and Umar.
'I'd say they were heading for the massif,' Jamil said. Will looked to Umar, who explained.
'It's a huge range of cliffs and hills and mountains to the north-west. There are Arridi villages scattered throughout the hills and the Tualaghi often ride in and impose themselves on the villagers — stealing their crops and killing their livestock. A party of two hundred would have no trouble taking over a village — or even a small town.
Chances are they have one in mind and they'll use it as their headquarters for a month or two. Then, when the herds and food supplies are exhausted, they'll move on.'
Will reached into his shirt and produced the map Selethen had given him.
'I've got to go after them! Show me on this,' he demanded. But Umar put his hand over the younger man's to calm him.
'Slow down, friend Will,' he said. 'Nothing will be gained by rushing off into the desert without a plan. The Tualaghi are dangerous enemies. I need to talk with my council and then we'll see what can be done.'
Will went to argue but the pressure of Umar's grip increased.
'Trust me on this, Will. Give me an hour,' he said. Reluctantly, Will relaxed, folding the chart and returning it to its hiding place inside his shirt.
'Very well,' he said. 'An hour. But then I'm leaving.'
Will returned to where Tug waited patiently and loosened the saddle girths so the horse would be more comfortable. Then he sat, his back resting against the bole of a palm tree, his eyes closed, while he tried to make sense of the situation.
Somehow, he would have to rescue his friends. He knew that much. But how? He was alone and he was unfamiliar with the territory. Against that, his friends were being held by two hundred armed bandits — cruel and merciless men who would cut their throats without hesitation. He was a foreigner. He would stand out among the Arridi villagers, even if he could manage to find the correct village in the first place. He realised that he didn't even know where to pick up the trail left by the Tualaghi. And if his recent attempts at navigation were anything to judge by, he'd probably never find them.
He must have dozed, affected by the heat of the day. He was woken by the sound of Umar lowering himself to the sand beside him with a faint grunt of exertion.
'We've talked,' he said simply. Will looked at him. There was no hint of what he and his advisers had decided in his bland expression.
'Will you let Hassan guide me to where the Tualaghi captured my friends?' he said.
Umar held up a hand, palm outwards, to stop him. 'Let me explain. Here are the facts I put to my council. The Tualaghi are no friends of ours. A large war party like this means they're up to no good and they could well attack other Bedullin bands — ones smaller than this. Then there's the matter of Seley el'then. I don't like the fact that he's their captive.'
'You know Selethen?'Will asked.
The
Aseikh
nodded. 'We've fought together against the Tualaghi. He's a good man. A brave fighter. More important, he's an honest man — a man I trust. Those are good qualities to have in a
Wakir.
There's always the possibility that another man might not be so fair-minded. And a lot of Arridi resent us. They see us as interlopers in their country.
Wakir
Seley el'then has always treated us well. It might not suit us to have him replaced by someone who is not so honest or fair-minded.'
A small flame of hope was starting to burn in Will's chest as the
Aseikh
continued to analyse the situation.
'Are you saying you'll ... ?' he began but once more, Umar made that palm outward gesture to silence him.
'And there are two more points to consider. One: you have become a friend of the Bedullin. You saved my grandson's life and you behaved well in the matter of the race. My people like you, Will. And we take friendship seriously.'
'You said two points,' Will interposed.
Umar shook his head, his expression very serious. 'As Jamil told you, it was his fault that your friends were captured. If he had not been so clumsy, the Tualaghi would never have known they were there. His fault, his failing, becomes the failing of the tribe as a whole. This weighs very heavily on Jamil's mind ... and my own.'
Will hardly dared to hope that what he was beginning to think might be true. Tentatively, as if by being too positive he might cause the idea to dissolve and blow away on the wind, he said: 'So you're saying you ... '
He couldn't bring himself to finish the statement. Umar did it for him.
'I'm saying we're all agreed. We're going to rescue Seley el'then and your friends from the Veiled Ones.' He smiled at the elated young man beside him. 'Of course, you're welcome to come along with us if you wish.'

The Arridi soldiers were disarmed and made to sit on the ground, surrounded by over a hundred Tualaghi warriors. Selethen, the four Araluans and Svengal were led to one side. Their hands were bound in front of them and they watched as Yusal and two of his officers walked among the seated Arridi troopers.
'I could kill you all now,' he told them. 'You know that. But instead I'm going to be merciful.'
Halt watched sceptically. 'And he knows that if he started killing them, they'd fight back,' he said in an aside to Evanlyn. Even though they're unarmed, he'd lose some of his own men.' Men who were certain they were going to die would fight desperately to the end, he knew. But if there was a ray of hope, no matter how faint, they would take it.
'I'll keep your horses,' Yusal continued, 'and we'll take your boots. Then you can go.'
Selethen started forward angrily but a Tualaghi sentry restrained him.
'Go? Go where?' he shouted. The tall war leader turned towards him, the eyes above the blue mask devoid of any sign of mercy. He shrugged.
'That's not my concern,' he said harshly. 'I didn't ask these men to follow me. You did. If I leave them now in the desert, that's on your head, not mine. At least I'm giving them a chance.'
'What chance will they have in the desert without water?' Selethen challenged and Yusal spread his hands in a sarcastic gesture.
'Did I say they would be left without water?' he asked. 'I said I'd keep their boots and their horses. I don't want them following us. But the Word of Law says we must never turn a traveller out in the desert without water. Of course they will have water.' He gestured to one of his men. 'Give them two water skins,' he said.
'For over thirty men? And some of them wounded? This isn't what the Law means and you know it, you murderer!'
Yusal shrugged. 'Unlike you, I don't pretend to know God's will, Seley el'then. The Word of Law says a stranger must be given water. I don't recall an amount being mentioned.'
Selethen shook his head bitterly. 'No wonder you're the Forgotten of God, Yusal,' he said.
The Tualaghi flinched at the insult as if he had been whipped. He turned and gave a curt order to his men and there was a ringing sound of steel as one hundred swords were drawn and raised over the defenceless Arridi troops.
'Your choice then, Seley el'then. Give the word and my men will kill the prisoners now. Or would you rather they had my mercy?'
His hand was raised to give the command. The muscles in Selethen's jaw knotted as he tried to control his rage and frustration. One of his troops, a lieutenant, looked up and called to the
Wakir.
'Excellence, don't worry about us! We'll be all right! We'll find help and come after you!'
Yusal laughed then. 'How brave! Perhaps I should kill this one. I wouldn't like to think that such a fierce warrior was dogging my footsteps.' He stepped close to the young officer and drew his own sword. The Arridi looked up at him defiantly.
'Your choice, Seley el'then,' Yusal repeated. Selethen made a small gesture of defeat.
'Let them live,' he said quietly and Yusal laughed again.
'I thought you might change your mind.' He gave another hand gesture to his own men and their weapons were sheathed. Then he leaned down to the young Arridi who had spoken. His eyes, dark and cruel as those of a bird of prey, bored into the soldier's.
'You're brave enough now, boy,' he said in a quiet, bitter voice. 'But wait till your tongue is dry and swollen so large that it fills your throat so that you can hardly breathe. Wait till your feet are torn and blistered by the heat and the rocks. Your eyes will be blinded by the glare of the sun and you'll wish your leader had allowed me to kill you here and now. Believe me, he's done you no favour today.'
The young man's defiant gaze dropped from Yusal's. The Tualaghi war leader snorted in contempt.
'Turn them out into the desert!' Then, to the guards who were gathered round Halt, Selethen and the others, he ordered, 'Bring these ones to the camp!'
He turned away, strode to his horse, mounted and rode off towards the crest without a backward glance.
The guards moved in on the small party of hostages. Four of them surrounded Svengal and two more stationed themselves behind him. Obviously, their dealings with Erak had taught them what to expect from the wild sea wolves. Before Svengal could resist, one of the men behind him struck him across the back of the knees with the haft of his spear. The Skandian's legs collapsed under the unexpected blow and he fell to the ground. Instantly, the four were upon him, hobbling his legs with leather thongs so that he could only shuffle along, taking half steps. Then they dragged the big man to his feet again. He glared at them, the rage boiling up inside him. But the sight of the drawn daggers that surrounded him was enough to calm him down. There was no point to suicide, he realised.
Another guard stepped forward and dragged Evanlyn out of the group. Horace went to intercept him but a spear butt rammed into his stomach stopped him in his tracks. He sagged to his knees, gasping for breath.
'The girl is a valuable hostage,' Halt warned the guard. 'Yusal won't thank you if she's harmed.'
The man hesitated. In fact, he had only been interested in the necklace that Evanlyn wore. He seized it now and dragged her off balance as he examined it. But the rounded stones threaded onto the string were worthless marble.
'Keep them!' he snarled. 'They're worth nothing!'
He shoved her back with the others, then gave a brisk order. The guards mounted and herded their captives on foot towards the camp, their hands tied tightly before them with leather thongs. Urged on by spear butts and curses, they stumbled on the uneven ground.
One of the guards rode close to Gilan. He had lost three friends to the Rangers' arrows during the attack that morning and he took every opportunity now to crack his spear shaft painfully across the Ranger's shoulders and back. The fourth time he did so, Gilan turned and looked up at him with a peculiar smile.
'What are you looking at, foreigner?' the guard demanded roughly. The smile was a little unsettling. A prisoner shouldn't smile at his captors like that, he thought.
'I'm just making sure I can remember you,' Gilan told him. 'Never know when that might be useful.'
The spear cracked down across his shoulders. He flinched, then nodded meaningfully at the Tualaghi rider before he began plodding up the hill once more.
Erak looked up as the hostages were thrust unceremoniously onto the ground beside him.
As Gilan had observed some nights earlier, he was seated on the ground, chained between two noisy, complaining camels. His face was bruised and his hair matted with dried blood. One eye was almost closed and there were whip scores on his arms and back.
'Well, look at what the cat dragged in,' he said cheerfully. 'What brings you here, Halt?'
'We've come to rescue you,' Halt told him and the Oberjarl looked quizzically at the leather bindings that secured his friends.
'You've chosen a strange way to do it,' he said. Then, as he recognised Selethen, his brows contracted into an unfriendly frown. 'Nice work,
Wakir,'
he said. There was an overtone of bitterness in his voice as he held up his own manacled hands.
Selethen shook his head. His own bitterness matched Erak's.
'This was not what I intended. I lost a lot of good men,' he told the Skandian. Erak considered the statement for a moment, then his expression softened and he nodded. He glanced at Svengal.
'Svengal, my friend,' he said, 'when I told you to go and get the Araluans, this isn't exactly what I had in mind.'
Svengal shrugged. 'Don't worry, chief. We've got these Tualaghi surrounded — from the inside.'
'Exactly,' Erak replied dryly. Then he gestured to the stony ground. 'Take a seat, why don't you?'
As the others sat, Evanlyn knelt beside the Oberjarl. Gently, she examined the wounds to his scalp and the massive bruise around his eye.
'Are you all right, Erak?' she asked.
He shrugged. 'Oh, I'm fine. They never hurt you so badly that you can't walk. And they're treating me like an honoured guest — a handful of mouldy dates, some stale bread and a mouthful of water, then a nice walk in the sunshine. Who could ask for more?'
'Any word of Toshak so far?' Halt asked.
Erak's expression darkened. 'Not by name. But that swine Yusal hinted that I'd be meeting a countryman soon — and I don't think he meant you, Svengal. I can't wait. If I get a chance to get my hands on Toshak's throat, he'll wish he'd never been born.' He looked up at Halt then. 'Unlike you to be taken by surprise, Halt. Are you losing your edge?'
Halt raised an eyebrow at him. 'From what I've heard, you didn't do so well yourself at Al Shabah,' he pointed out and Erak shrugged ruefully.
'I guess we're all getting careless,' he said.
'Any idea where this bunch is headed, chief?' Svengal asked.
'They don't exactly consult me. I just drag along behind Matilda there.' He jerked a thumb at the nearest of the two camels. 'We've become quite fond of each other,' he added, glaring balefully at the grumbling beast.
'Odds are we're headed for the northern massif,' Selethen said and Erak looked at him with interest.
'I believe I did hear those words mentioned,' he said. 'Well, you'd better get some rest while you can. It's a long day when you're walking.'
Horace scratched his ear, the movement made clumsy by the fact that his hands were tied together. 'What time do they feed us?' he asked. Erak looked at him for a second, then grinned.
'Don't ever change, Horace,' he said.