During the first terrifying moments when her kidnappers had come into her room, she had been gagged almost immediately. As she tried to resist them, she had been able to switch on her lapel pin before her hands had been tied. Then her captors had carried her out of the room and down some back stairs in near silence.
The old hostler had been waiting with her horse. In the light of the small lantern at the stable, she had finally counted five kidnappers, one of whom had taken the reins of her mount and tied them to his own saddle. They had paused to dicker with the sentries at the gate in the Great Wall, but the sentries had ignored the gag tied over her mouth.
These sentries were not the same men Steve had spoken to earlier. Obviously, the watch had changed since then. These sentries were more interested in the bribe they received for opening the gate after dark than in interfering with other people’s business.
No one spoke. Marcia rode at a walk through the moonlight, listening to the clopping of the horses’ hooves. She supposed the lead rider had to go slowly because of the near-darkness. Certainly she would not complain; wherever they were taking her, she hoped the trip took a very long time.
The road curved as it skirted the edges of the forest, rising and dipping steeply at times. Ahead and to her left, Marcia could see lights clumped together in the distance; she decided they were torches or camp fires at the Mongol camp. She could not tell how far the camp was, but her captors clearly had no intention of going any closer.
Marcia had no idea if she could realistically expect any help. Hunter might still be too far to receive the sound of hoofbeats through her lapel pin. Even if he were receiving them right now, he could be too far back down the road to catch up before something horrible happened to her.
Steve, for all she knew, could still be enjoying his dinner with the Mongols. He certainly had to keep his lapel pin turned off while he remained in their company. Besides, when he did discover that she was missing, he would be alone without a robot to help rescue her.
The riders around her pulled up for a moment on the crest of small hill; the man holding Marcia’s reins drew her mount to a stop with them. In the pale moonlight, she saw that the road forked, one branch angling to the left toward the Mongol camp. The other branch continued north.
“What are we going to do?” One man, merely a shadow to Marcia, turned in his saddle to look at the others. “Which way shall we go?”
“I say we are far enough,” said another. “We must do what we are going to do.”
Marcia felt herself go cold deep inside.
“I do not like it,” said a third man in a high, whiny voice. “She will be found here, and the sentries at the wall will remember us.”
“She deals with evil spirits,” someone else reminded him. “We must kill her and return to the inn before evil spirits come to save her and kill us all.”
“We have to kill her friend as well,” said the first man. “We must finish with her in time to return for him and bring him back out here.”
“At least we must take her away from the road,” said the man with the whiny voice, “into the trees where her body will not be found until we are far away, if ever.”
“Who will do it?” The first man asked. “One of you soldiers? You have the swords.”
“I am a soldier, not a murderer,” someone said stiffly. “Anyone of us can do the job.”
“We are all in this together now,” said another, “no matter who actually does it.”
No one spoke for a long moment. Marcia could hardly believe she was listening to them discuss killing her. She could not believe she was going to die in this year, centuries before she had been born.
“Either all of us must kill her or none of us,” said the first man.
Marcia understood their dilemma. They were not murderers by nature. However, they were highly superstitious and were driven by their fear of her.
“We cannot let her live now,” said one of the others. “She will call evil spirits down on us.”
“I have an idea,” said the man with the whiny voice. “We can leave her out in the woods, tied, without her outer robes. The heat of the day and the cold of the night will do the work, or maybe wild animals.”
“This is good,” said the first man. “We shall be equally responsible.”
Marcia could see the heads of all her captors nodding in the moonlight. None had the stomach for killing her outright. They wanted to take the easy way out.
“Yes, I agree,” said another man. “Nature can do the job for us. And we can return for her friend.”
“Fine,” said the first man. “Now we must move away from the road and find a place to leave her.”
Marcia tried to swallow, but her throat was too dry.
Steve rode north from the Great Wall at a trot. That speed was risky in the moonlight on a bad road, but it was his only chance to catch up to Marcia and her kidnappers. He hoped that they had been traveling at a walk ever since they had left. If not, he had no chance of catching up.
He held the lantern forward as he rode, to see the fresh tracks he was following. While those tracks were not much newer than the other tracks left by the day’s travelers, they overlaid the earlier tracks with clear imprints on the dry, dusty road. He knew they might leave the road at any time, and he had to spot the location immediately if they did. Since Hunter, with his enhanced vision, had failed to notice where Wayne’s group had left the road last night, Steve was acutely aware of how easy it would be to miss this.
Through the shadows in the moonlight, Steve kept his gaze on the road. He left his lapel pin turned on. It provided him with the sounds of hoofbeats of the riders ahead of him. Gradually, he heard those hoofbeats grow louder as he gained ground on the steep, rolling slopes.
When Steve heard voices coming from his lapel pin, he listened carefully. He heard Marcia’s captors discuss their plans for her. From his own point of view, having Marcia tied up and abandoned was not bad at all. If he could avoid her kidnappers on their return trip, he could find her through the lapel pin and free her.
However, he did not like the uncertainty in their voices. He was afraid they might change their minds and kill her outright after all. That meant he still had to rescue her if he could.
Steve wanted to form a plan, but he was not sure how to proceed. From the volume and clarity of the hoofbeats coming through his lapel pin, he knew that he was not too far behind them now. He guessed the distance at about thirty meters, a distance at which he could still not hear their hoofbeats clearly without the radio signal. Apparently they were behind some hill.
Steve paused to blowout the flame inside the lantern he carried. Otherwise, Marcia’s captors would see the glow as he drew closer. They would not hear his hoofbeats for a while yet because the sound of their own would camouflage his.
Steve wished he could confer with Marcia. He wanted to reassure her that he was nearby and also plan her escape with her. Of course, her captors would hear his voice.
Then he realized that he could use that to his advantage. Afterall, they believed that he and Marcia dealt in evil spirits. Hearing his voice through her lapel pin now would not make any difference.
“Marcia, Steve here,” he said in English. “I’m right behind you.”
He heard a roar of startled shouts from the men in the background.
“Mmmmmm.”
“Marcia, you okay? Is that you?”
“Mmm.”
Steve realized, then, that she was gagged.
The men were still gasping, then shouting, in awe at the sound of a man’s voice from nowhere.
Steve switched to Chinese. “Do not harm this woman,” he intoned authoritatively. “She is under the protection of good spirits. Beware.”
“Hunter here.” The robot’s voice was weak and nearly drowned out by static. “Since you are not afraid of being overheard, I can say I am much closer to you now than I have been all day. Marcia must be in trouble. I am riding as fast as I can, but my mount is very tired.”