There was a nervous silence, nobody wishing to be singled out from the anonymous safety of the crowd. Eventually one old man climbed to his feet, trembling visibly, his eyes downcast.
The horseman's eyes narrowed ominously in the flickering light of the burning tent. "Only one," he hissed. "Rich man, have many wagons."
He rapped out a command in a language the boys had never heard before. With shocking suddenness two of the riders threw themselves from their horses, dragged out a woman from the front of the crowd, and in the midst of her terrified screams cut her throat, then hacked off her head.
"Now," the menacing voice resumed in Shattun. "You hear me now? Obey me, and you live. Not obey and I kill you all." Into the ensuing fearful silence, he roared, "All men with wagon stand up."
This time several men including S’Bissi arose. Caldar suddenly noticed Rasscu, a few rows to the left, also standing and then moving forward, as the owners were directed to go to their wagons, each with a couple of the horsemen for escort. He also noted Idressin's eyes following Rasscu intently. 'He's worried too.' Caldar thought. 'Rasscu won’t be able to hold back near Borogoi. Someone’s going to get killed.’
There was little space for reflection. The black figure in front of them issued another order. This time all males between the ages of ten and twenty were to come forward. The threats and the promise of safety for obedience were repeated. Slowly a small group gathered in front of the seated travellers, fearful at being singled out. Standing there with the others Caldar suddenly realised that it could even be him specifically that the Borog was looking for and his mouth went dry.
Their captors pushed the young men into a rough line and the leader began to work his way along. Caldar was trying to work out what he could do, when he suddenly found the leader's horse alongside him. He looked up in surprise, straight into a pair of savage yellow eyes. At the same moment one of the other Borogoi ripped open Caldar’s birawi and bared his chest. Nothing was said, but grim satisfaction began to spread over the rider’s dark face, replaced a moment later by an expression of utter astonishment.
Caldar stared in horror at the bloody point of the arrow that projected a hand-span from the black robe over the horseman's heart. The cruel face contorted in a spasm of pain, then the man tumbled from the saddle like a loose bundle. The other riders had become instantly alert, searching the shadows of the wagon circle for the hidden archer. They were still uncertain, not knowing which way to move, when something stirred in the dying firelight and a figure stepped out on top of one of the wagons. Caldar sighed, his fears confirmed. It was Rasscu.
Bow in hand, his arms held wide as if offering himself as a target, the Tesserit threw the horsemen a challenge. "Are the Borogoi such cowards that killing women and children is the height of their prowess? Are you afraid to confront a man with a weapon in his hand? Truly it is said of the Prenshi, you have fast horses so that you can run away."
It was enough. Even as Rasscu jumped down into the darkness beyond the circle, spears swished through the place where he had been standing an instant before, and an enraged mob of the raiders poured through every gap between the wagons to seek out and kill this insolent fool.
There were sounds of violent scuffles in the darkness and at one point a terrible scream. The few riders left inside the circle were growing uneasy, when a flaming arrow arced over the wagons and set fire to another tent in the centre. A clear cold voice spoke from the outer dark. "Prenshi, you are surrounded and we see you perfectly against the flames. The others are all dead. Dismount and lie down on your faces. Now."
So compelling were the words of the unseen speaker that some of the Borogoi began to comply, but remounted when their companions shouted fiercely at them. Two of the riders made a sudden dash for a gap on the far side of the circle, and were both jerked from their saddles by the impact of several arrows. Before they even touched the ground, the others were in motion. They scattered in every direction, some riding down the panic-stricken travellers who were unable to get out of their way. Again not one reached the perimeter.
Two of the three remaining horsemen conferred quickly in their harsh tongue, then drew their swords and rode towards the crowd of travellers. They met the same fate as their companions. One of them crashed to the ground right at Caldar's feet, half a dozen long arrows lodged in his body from front and back.
The tableau remained for a moment: the travellers frozen in shock and terror, the last of the Borogoi astride his horse, his face masked in shadow, the only sound the crackle of flames from the burning tent. Something like a sigh ran through the crowd, when the rider dismounted stiffly and lay down on the ground. At once figures appeared from the surrounding darkness and disarmed the prostrate raider. They also were black-clad from head to foot and a nervous murmur began to surge through the huddle of travellers, unsure if the newcomers brought deliverance or simply an exchange of terrors.
The rising hubbub was cut short by a tall figure who strode out in front and raised a commanding hand for silence. "I wish to speak with the caravan-master." he said mildly. "Meanwhile stay where you are and remain quiet. We are not Prenshi savages, but I advise you to obey us." The gentle words carried a confident force that was not lost on the travellers. These men had just disposed of a strong band of fully-armed warriors. There would be no resistance.
After the caravan-master, the merchants were summoned. They had mostly been hiding in their wagons after the newcomers had silently eliminated their Borogoi escorts. It was clear that a 'tax' was being imposed, as Idressin confirmed, when the boys returned to his side.
"These are Sarai." he said quietly. "They’ll be happy to have had the chance to kill Borogoi, particularly when they were pretending to be Sarai. But they're not going to pass up an opportunity for profit at the same time. So S’Bissi will have to face losing that extra margin."
Angry voices erupted suddenly from the group of merchants around the tall man.
"….outrageous. This is utter robbery."
"Bandits. That is my whole livelihood."
"Why not take everything and have done."
The Sarab, who had thrown back his shimsak to reveal a handsome young face, smiled through his beard and waited calmly for the outcries to die away.
Then, his clear voice carrying easily to the listening trio, he said, "We do but ask you for double payment. Once for passing through lands that are ours, and once for saving you from the Prenshi." He spat contemptuously to one side on the last word. "A little while ago you had nothing. Maybe not even your lives. Now you have a future and nearly all your goods. Well is it said that it is harder for a merchant to admit satisfaction in business than for a woman to praise the cooking of her daughter-in-law."
Caldar caught smiles on the faces of some of those within earshot and there was a general easing of tension. The grumbling continued, but the traders complied. The Sarai would take only precious stones. "We travel light," the leader stated, refusing the proffered gold, so S’Bissi's store of stones was called on to pay the 'taxes' of the other merchants.
"That will cost them dear, when S’Bissi calls in his reckoning," Idressin chuckled.
All was not over yet for the merchants however; they did not escape until the tall Sarab had made them buy the Borogoi horses, bargaining keenly until they had reached a fair price.
"Why do the Sarai want diamonds?" Berin asked, imagining hoards of precious stones hidden on the rocky land high above.
“They have to trade for things they lack,” the tutor replied. “Salt, metal, stuff like that. Diamonds are good currency.”
"Where's Rasscu?" Caldar had not been able to catch a glimpse of his friend since he had jumped off the wagon. "Do you think he's alright?"
Strung tight by the danger and sudden violence of the last two hours, his emotions were now beginning to surface. He tried not to look at the bodies piled casually to one side, as his eyes searched in vain for the Tesserit. He got up, intending to go and search the area beyond the
wagons, but one of the Sarai abruptly motioned him to sit down again. They had not finished with the traders yet, and business came first.
"Hartha kefoor semsa h'resht felleen, hra raffna gahoot."
The nearest of the black-clad figures came instantly alert at Idressin's words, in what was clearly the strangely throaty Sarai tongue. One of them strode across, and looking haughtily down held a rapid exchange with the seated tutor. At the end Idressin stood up and followed him out of the wagon circle, explaining to the boys before he left, "He says Rasscu's helping them restore order in the rest of the caravan. Few of the Sarai speak Shattun and the other wagon circles are in complete panic. The Borogoi concentrated on the wagons in this leading circle, but they killed one or two in each of the other groups to terrorise them into submission and people have been running off to hide in the desert. I'll go and help as well."
Even as he was striding out of sight, the group of merchants broke up, apparently having finished their final round of horse trading. The leader of the Sarai rose smoothly to his feet and told the weary seated crowd that they could now return to their tents and wagons, adding with grim irony the traditional night time salutation, "May your slumbers be deep and your dreams full of sweetness."
Caldar was sure he would be unable to sleep in the remaining hour or so before dawn: the sky was light already. He had just turned to Berin and suggested that they went to make sure that Tariska was alright, when he was startled by a firm hand falling on his shoulder. The tall Sarab had come up behind him and was now looking down at Caldar with an intent gaze. After a moment he nodded and shouted a summons to one of his men a short distance off. Berin came up to Caldar's side, uncertain but ready to help. Then the three of them waited in silence for the other man to join them.
The newcomer looked at the boys and spoke in a deep voice to his fellow Sarab. Then glaring fiercely at Caldar, he broke into Shattun and growled, "So, you do not recognise me? But I recognise you, young traveller. I told you at Pillimon Tarkus that we would have a welcome ready for you. And here you are, delivered by God's Will, right into our hands."
Strangely Caldar felt none of his previous fear. There had been something hideously cruel about the Borogoi, which was not present in these people. He had seen them kill with ruthless efficiency, but he felt none of the frightened loathing evoked in him earlier by the riders. He was also tired and becoming a little angry at his own helplessness as one menace seemed to follow another. He did not believe for a moment that all this activity was aimed at him, yet he was feeling hunted all the same. In the moment before he was shot the Borogoi leader had seemed to identify Caldar - the birthmark? Or Caldar’s imagination? - and now this bandit was singling him out too.
Whatever the reason, he glared back at the large black-robed man in front of him. "Welcome?" He fairly spat out the word. "Why don’t you just say straight out what you want? Then I can go and check that my friends are alright."
He stared the Sarab straight in the eye, until the tall leader laughed and said, "Enough, Ghabin. This is no time for games, as our young friend is trying to tell you." Turning his attention to Caldar, he went on, "Forgive my companion. He is sometimes over-fond of his own type of humour." The young Sarab's face grew serious. "He says that he saw you wearing an amulet at the Frendi river. May I see it now?" He held out his hand, and Caldar wonderingly took off the Hamna stone and passed it to him.
Both of the Sarai examined it closely, exchanging a muttered word from time to time. Then the leader looked up, a bright gleam in his eye. "We must talk further. But first go and see to your friends. When you are ready, you will find me just outside the circle beyond that white wagon there. You are welcome to eat with us." With this parting indication of good intentions, he turned and walked away, taking Caldar's amulet with him. Ghabin also departed, startling Caldar with a wink, a hearty clap on the shoulder and a loud guffaw as he turned away.
The camp was still in confusion. Those whose tents had been burned were forlornly trying to salvage what they could from the charred wreckage. The traders were busy checking that their stocks were still intact. Some of the men were helping the Sarai to drag the last of the Borogoi corpses out of the circle. And the few children who were travelling with the lead wagons were everywhere, exhausted but determined to miss nothing of the grisly excitement which had erupted in the middle of their monotonous desert journey.
S’Bissi's tent was still standing. He used a smaller one on these one-night stops, which erected easily and was just big enough to provide sleeping quarters. G'Shenni was outside overseeing the preparation of breakfast, and he nodded towards the tent when the boys asked for Tariska. It seemed that no sooner had they stopped at the entrance and called her name than a small figure flew out and grasped them both in a fierce embrace.
"I was so frightened when the riders called you out," she said all in a rush. "I suddenly realised I might never see either of you again."
Caldar found himself surprisingly affected by her words and absurdly pleased at being included in her fears. But before he could say anything, S’Bissi came bustling up behind them, full of good humour at retaining all his goods intact. He called to G'Shenni to serve breakfast without delay and chattered on with hardly a break, until Caldar reluctantly excused himself saying he had a job to do. He left Tariska talking to Berin, wishing it could have been him.
*
There was a group of a dozen or so Sarai around the campfire outside the circle. The leader stood up as Caldar approached and invited him formally to 'share their hearth'. Knowing nothing of their customs, Caldar replied simply, "It is an honour," and was rewarded by a smile from his host. Some kind of hot flat bread-cakes were then served along with strong amalra tea and consumed without words; only when both of them were sipping their second cup did the talk begin.
For some reason he couldn’t explain Caldar had decided to trust these people. Which was just as well, because the questions came thick and fast. The Sarab wanted to know about Caldar's possession of the amulet; he was also intensely interested in Caldar's background, in his companions and above all in the Hamna. Nothing would satisfy him except a complete retelling of the whole episode in the mountains and two more of the Sarai who evidently understood some Shattun came closer to listen. Caldar managed to tell the truth right up to the point where he would have had to reveal their mission to find the Talisman; he sensed that this was not something he should talk about, however trustworthy his audience appeared to be. So he explained boldly that he was travelling with his friends who had business in the Empire; it sounded lame to his own ears, but his listeners appeared to notice nothing amiss.
For the most part they sat immobile and silent as he told his story. Only when he went back, in answer to the leader's repeated probings, and recounted in detail what he had learned about the amulet from the Tinker's words and from its response to his own silent question, did they show their excitement. Several minutes of animated discussion in Sarai ensued and spread to include all of the plateau-dwellers who were within earshot.
The tall figure in front of Caldar waved them to silence, then said to the boy's total astonishment, "Long have we awaited the prophesied return of this treasure to our country. It was a fortunate day for us when Ghabin saw you at the river. We have watched you ever since, and so it was we saw the Prenshi approaching from the north yesterday at last light. It took us many hours to gather a fighting band and to descend from the plateau, almost too long. But with God's help we were in time. Now you and your companions must accompany us and we will gather all our people to greet you in fitting manner."
"I am afraid that cannot be." said Idressin's voice just behind Caldar. There was an immediate stiffening among the Sarai group, but the tutor continued in a calm tone talking in Sarai and soon Caldar could sense the tension easing. Idressin motioned the leader to come aside and the two of them stood a short way off in deep discussion.
Caldar's gaze wandered around the Sarai band, wondering where the re
st of them were; restoring order in the rest of the caravan, he assumed. One of the black-robed figures nearby was slumped oddly against a large wagon wheel. As if feeling the boy's attention on him, the man opened a pair of hooded yellow eyes and stared impassively back. It was the last of the Borogoi, the only one who had surrendered. Caldar suppressed a shiver, as the face brought back the all-too recent terrors of the night. The man was tied to the wheel, presumably awaiting whatever fate the Sarai chose for him.
When Idressin and the tall Sarab returned, the latter handed the amulet back to Caldar with undisguised reluctance, yet with something akin to wonder in his face. "God's purposes are greater than those of his people," he said, reminding Caldar of Nyokhen's words in the mountains. "We looked only to the fulfilment of our own prophecies and find that we may be at the fulcrum of the world. So be it. I greet you, Caldar, and honour you as the bearer of the amulet of the Rahidors. I give you my name, Remakkib. Do not forget Remakkib and do not forget the Sarai. If you have need of our service, ask of us what you will. Now I must explain to my people as much as I am permitted to reveal."
As he turned away, on a sudden impulse Caldar caught his arm. "What is going to happen to him?" he asked, pointing at the captive rider.
Remakkib looked at Caldar curiously. "Why is it of concern to you. He will die. Do you wish to see to it personally?"
"But he surrendered," Caldar exclaimed indignantly. "Do you kill captives?"
"Of course." Remakkib replied in a puzzled tone. "We cannot take Prenshi onto the plateau. It is forbidden. What else can we do with him?"
"You could release him."
One of the Sarai nearby unleashed a torrent of angry words and several of the others murmured in agreement. The leader cut them short with a raised hand without taking his eyes from Caldar's face.
"This band of Prenshi is known to us. They have killed many travellers, including one of our kin from Tarkus. And they pretend to be Sarai. This man's life is forfeit many times over. And yet you would have us spare him? Good. Will you take responsibility for him and his deeds, the future as well as the past? If he kills again, will you take the blood of his victims upon your own soul?"
The Tears of Sisme Page 35
