The Black Stone (58 page)

Khalima was starting to look a little more hopeful.

‘Uruwat’s men,’ said Cassius. ‘Would they betray you?’

‘That depends on Urunike – he is in charge now.’

‘Might he be persuaded to help us?’

‘His father has just been killed. I imagine he might.’

Cassius leaned forward. ‘Then we may still have a chance of ridding this province of Ilaha and escaping this place alive.’

‘Go on.’

‘It’s simple. You just tell Urunike and the men of your tribe that the black stone has been taken. And you ask them to pass it on into every inn and every house and every tent until by dawn there isn’t a single person in Galanaq who doesn’t know.’

‘And then?’

‘It’s hard to predict what will happen. But one thing’s certain: Lord Ilaha, we and everyone else will discover if Mighty Elagabal really is on his side.’

It was Ulixes who finally called a halt. They hadn’t stopped once and the weary horses pulling the cart were beginning to falter and drift alarmingly close to the cliff-edge. The auxiliaries were so intent on escaping that Indavara had to bellow at them to stop. Ulixes threw down the reins then dropped to the ground. Mercator trotted back to the cart with Yorvah and Andal, who had opened the shutter of the lantern he was carrying. Mercator saw the condition of the horses and instructed the guard officers to swap them. Three of the men were leading fresh mounts for this very purpose.

‘Third one’s for me,’ said Ulixes as he checked his money bag was still secure inside his tunic. ‘I’ve done more than my bit – this is where we part company.’

‘You’re bloody handy with that cart,’ said Mercator. ‘Why not stay with us?’

‘How about an angry German giant and however many hundred warriors he has with him?’ Ulixes pointed down the trail. The dots of lights were quite clear. ‘I doubt we’ve more than half an hour on them now. Unless you leave the cart, of course. Then we can all make it.’

Indavara jumped down beside the ex-legionary. ‘We came here for the stone.’

‘And Khalima and his men probably gave their lives to help us get it out,’ added Mercator.

‘Eager to join them?’ said Ulixes.

Mercator called out to one of the auxiliaries, who brought over the last spare horse.

Ulixes briefly checked the animal over then mounted up. ‘Go on for now if you must, but if they get close, ride for your lives.’ He nodded at the back of the cart. ‘That thing’s not worth dying for.’

‘You still here?’ said Indavara.

With a final shake of his head, Ulixes set off up the slope.

While Mercator took charge, Indavara grabbed one of the lanterns and climbed into the back of the cart. Trying his best to ignore all thoughts of the stone, he stepped over the injured man and knelt beside the wooden box. Corbulo had said it contained some ‘surprises’ for anyone that pursued them. Indavara opened it and examined the contents, then called out to Mercator. ‘How long to the Step?’

‘Maybe half an hour.’

‘We’ll stop there. Briefly.’

‘Why?’

‘You’ll see.’

Khalima survived his covert trip to the encampment unscathed.

‘Well?’ Cassius asked as the Saracen sat down in the chamber. He had regained a little colour but the bandage upon his forehead was red with blood. He took a long drink of water before answering.

‘Fortunately for us the guards seem wary of searching the camp and provoking the tribesmen. There’s a lot of confusion – no one knows what’s happening or who they can trust.’

‘And Urunike?’

‘He’d already been told of his father’s death but not about the loss of the stone. He and Mushannaf and Enzarri’s tribes are biding their time. They have assured Oblachus they knew nothing of the plot – which is largely true – and will not act against Ilaha.’

‘But did—’

‘Yes, he has agreed to help. He has sent out men to do as you asked.’

‘Subtly, I trust.’

‘Urunike is no fool,’ replied Khalima sharply. ‘And we have good cause to be thankful to him. He would even help us escape if there was a way out. But Oblachus has stationed a hundred men at both gates and is guarding the Goat Trail too. Rumour has it the German has gone after the stone.’

‘Not much we can do about that,’ said Cassius, wondering how far Indavara and the others might have got.

‘But he may return with it,’ said Khalima. ‘And it’s only a matter of time until they search up here.’

‘True. It had already occurred to me that we might have to … move things along.’

‘How?’

‘We will need not only Urunike’s help but the men of the other two tribes as well.’

‘What do you have in mind?’

‘Lord Ilaha has shown himself to be rather adept at manipulating the masses. Let’s see how he responds to a taste of his own medicine.’

Ideally, Gutha would not have hurried. Ideally, he would have run down the thieves in his own time, arriving with the men fresh and ready to fight. But – as was invariably the case – things were far from ideal and he needed to get back to Galanaq as soon as possible.

Ilaha didn’t seem in any fit state to lead and though Kalderon and several of the other ethnarchs were firmly onside, it was hard to predict what the others might do, especially if they learned the stone had been taken. The situation was a mess; but restoring order was no longer Gutha’s problem. What he would need, however, was enough time to exchange the stone for the mask and safely make his escape. Once that was done, the travails of the Tanukh, Ilaha and that insane old bitch would soon be nothing but a memory.

As the horses ahead slowed, Reyazz dropped back to speak to him.

‘We are nearing the Step, Commander. A suitable spot for an ambush. Shall we dismount – send scouts?’

‘There is no time for that. We must press on.’

‘Yes, sir.’ Reyazz moved up the column and shouted instructions.

Despite the orders, the men slowed again to negotiate the narrow turn beside the Step. Gutha was four ranks behind the torch-holders at the front and allowed his mount to proceed at its own pace amongst the closely packed horses. As the road bent around to the right he heard a cry from ahead.

‘Wait, there’s something—’

‘Halt! Halt!’

Others shouted but the noise was drowned out by the agonised shrieks of the lead horses. Gutha reined in but collided with the mount ahead of him. He was sent sprawling forward and held on only by gripping tight with his legs.

Other horses bucked backwards and one man was thrown. The torch he was holding just missed another warrior’s head, bounced off Gutha’s leg then hit the ground. He ordered the men back, stopping them before they got too close to the edge. Half a dozen of the lead riders had not retreated.

‘What’s going on up there?’

One warrior appeared on foot, leading his mount. The horse’s head was jerking up and down and it was hobbling badly.

‘Glass, Commander. There’s glass everywhere.’

Gutha dismounted and threw his reins to the man next to him. He passed a warrior clutching his elbow, two more lame horses and two more animals lying on their side.

A man with a torch was peering down at the ground. Gutha joined him and examined the shards of clear and green glass littering the smooth rock. They appeared to have come from broken bottles.

‘What are you waiting for?’ Gutha bellowed. ‘Clear it. Clear all of it!’

Indavara turned and looked back into the darkness – as he had for every minute of the last half-hour.

‘Still nothing?’ asked Andal, who was now driving the cart.

‘Not yet.’

Ahead, Mercator and the others trotted on in single file, still using only the moonlight to guide them.

‘Should have slowed them down at least,’ said the veteran.

‘Not for long. We’ll need to stop again soon.’

‘Why?’

‘To give them their next surprise.’

Gutha had lost eight men, which left him with thirty-two. Three had been too injured to fight; five others had lost their mounts. One of the horses was so badly cut they’d had to put it down. The eight warriors were now leading the other horses back to Galanaq.

Gutha had rearranged the column into pairs and ordered that the front rank go no faster than a swift walk; they would still be moving quicker than the cart. He had also – subtly, he hoped – moved most of the best warriors towards the rear. Now they were on a section of the road that ran along a gully with walls twenty to thirty feet high; another area well suited to ambush.

He reckoned they’d been on the move for three hours. Riding at night was always taxing, and the incident with the glass had sapped the men’s early enthusiasm. Like him, they clearly just wanted to catch their enemies, deal with them and return home. Gutha doubted it would be that easy.

The thrumming of the horses’ hooves was amplified by the rock around them and the relentless noise eventually lulled him into a numb stupor. He shook his head, trying to stay alert. The men were taking turns to hold the lanterns and torches. Around him, the swirling flames picked out hunched, grim-faced figures peering into the darkness, fingers white on their reins.

A man of regular habits, Gutha often awoke in the last moments before the sun rose. The next attack came like that; he felt it just before it actually happened.

First came the heavy impact of another horse going down, then a cry, then a dozen voices calling a halt. As he stopped, some dolt rode into the back of him, almost knocking him out of his saddle once more.

‘What is it?’ he yelled.

‘Ropes! Ropes across the path.’

Gutha jumped down. ‘Make way, make way.’

Upon reaching the front of the column, he found that both of the front pair had been felled. The horses had recovered but one man was nursing a crushed arm. The ropes had been fixed a foot above the ground and ran right across the road. Reyazz was already there. As he stepped over the first rope, his lantern picked up another one several yards beyond it.

‘There can’t be too many, sir. We can cut through these in no time.’

‘That’s not it,’ said Gutha.

‘Sir?’

‘The ropes are just there to stop us.’

The wail that went up from behind him was that of a man who’d been hit by a weapon that was either sharp, heavy or both. Gutha turned and saw another warrior fall from his mount.