Erak_s ransom ra-7

by John Flanagan

  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.'

  Chapter 36

  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.

  Chapter 37

  Will, Umar and one hundred and twenty Bedullin warriors were on a forced march across the desert. They rose four hours before dawn, rode until four hours after first light, then rested through the heat of the day. In the late afternoon, a few hours before sunset, they would set out again, riding until well after dark before they stopped to rest again. Will estimated that it was around nine in the evening when they would camp for the night. But the two rest periods, one in the middle of the day and the other late at night, gave them plenty of time to water and feed their horses and recover their strength for the next march.

  It was a hard schedule but a sensible one. They rode at a steady pace, trotting their horses rather than cantering or galloping. But Will soon realised that they were covering great distances by keeping to the steady pace, even though he was tempted to go faster. As the kilometres reeled by under Tug's hooves, he knew that this would be the better course in the long run.

  Umar had decided to act on jamil's assertion that the Tualaghi were headed for one of the towns in the northern massif. As a result, they were able to plan a straight-line course to intercept the raiders, rather than return to the site of the battle and follow their tracks. This, combined with the prodigious distances they were able to cover each day, meant they were well on the way to overhauling the enemy.

  Will had asked Umar and Jamil to show him the location of the massif on his chart. It was further to the north than the area covered by Selethen's chart. They studied that document with some interest, rapidly seeing its relevance, even though the Bedullin never used charts themselves. Their navigation was based on tribal lore and knowledge, handed down over hundreds of years. As they pointed to landmarks drawn by Selethen, they would refer to places by names such as 'River of bright stones' or 'Ali's Hill' or 'the snake wadi'. While some of the names were self-explanatory, the origin of others was hidden in antiquity. Nobody, for example, had the slightest memory of who Ali might have been, and the bright stones that marked the river had long since disappeared – as had the river itself.

  This was a war party, so the Khoresh Bedullin women and children had remained at the oasis camp, with seventy of Umar's warriors to keep them safe. The Aseikh was reluctant to reduce his attack force by so many but the desert was an uncertain place and seventy was the minimum number of men he was willing to leave for the protection of his people.

  'We'll be outnumbered,' he remarked to Will.

  'They won't be expecting us,' the young Ranger replied and the Aseikh nodded, with a certain grim satisfaction. 'I'm looking forward to that.'

  On the third day of travel, the problem of numbers was redressed. A forward scout rode back at a gallop to report that he had encountered a party of thirty men on foot in the desert.,

  Umar, Will and Hassan rode back with him, cantering ahead of the main party. After three kilometres, they came upon the group of men, sitting in the meagre shade afforded by a wadi bank and sharing the last of a water skin the scout had left with them.

  'Arridi troopers,' Umar said, recognising the remnants of the uniforms they wore. Will noticed that none of the men wore boots, although they had torn cloth from their cloaks and shirts to wrap around their feet for protection. There was barely more than a mouthful each in the water skin and the distribution was being carefully overseen by a young man who still wore a lieutenant's insignia. The group might be ragged and close to exhaustion, but it was obvious they had maintained their discipline. Will wasn't certain but the officer looked vaguely familiar. He thought he might have been one of Selethen's men.

  The three riders had carried extra water skins back with them and these were quickly distributed. The lieutenant moved towards Umar and made the traditional greeting gesture.

  'Thank you, Aseikh,' he began. He recognised Umar's badge of rank, the triple strand of horsehair rope that bound his kheffiyeh. 'I'm Lieutenant Aloom of the – '

  Umar stopped him with a gesture and passed him his own water skin. The young man's voice was dry and croaking. 'Drink first, Lieutenant,' he told him. 'The talking will be easier after that.'

  Gratefully, the officer raised the water skin to his mouth and drank. Will noticed that even though he must have been parched, he sipped only small amounts of the water, drinking slowly so as not to overwhelm his b
ody with a sudden flood of moisture. The people of Arrida maintained excellent water discipline, he realised, remembering how desperately he had tried to gulp the water he was given when Umar found him.

  It was close to the tenth hour of the morning, which was the time Umar would usually call a halt for the first rest period. He signalled to the others to dismount and swung down from his saddle.

  'We'll camp here,' he said. 'The Arridi can use the rest period to recover.'

  Lieutenant Aloom had quenched his thirst now and told them of the Tualaghi ambush and the ensuing battle; how Halt and the others had been taken prisoner while he and his men had been turned out into the desert by Yusal, without boots and with a bare minimum of water. That had been two days ago.

  'You've kept thirty men alive and marching with just two water skins?' Umar queried. There was a note of respect in his voice.

  The lieutenant shrugged. 'They're good troops,' he said. 'They understood the need for discipline.'

  'They have a good officer,' Will said. He'd been tempted to interrupt the lieutenant immediately and ask for news of his friends. But he saw that the man was close to exhaustion and thought it better to let him tell his tale in his own time. The lieutenant stared at him for a moment before recognising him. When the war party had set out from the oasis, Will had adopted Bedullin clothes – baggy trousers, a long flowing shirt and cloak and, of course, a kheffiyeh to cover his head and face. But the longbow and quiver slung over his back were unmistakable.

  'You're the one they call Will!' Aloom said. 'We thought you would be dead by now!'

  Will smiled. 'Glad you had such faith in me,' he said. Then the smile faded. 'Are Halt and the others all right? Is Evanlyn safe?'

  Aloom nodded. 'They were safe when we left. Yusal talked about ransom, I think. The girl will be looked after. Chances are he'll want to sell her as a slave and nobody wants to buy a disfigured girl slave. The men won't be so lucky. They'll be beaten, I would expect.'