Selethen cursed bitterly. Only the night before, he had boasted about the Tualaghi's overconfidence – now he had fallen into the same trap. The desert raiders were wily and unpredictable. He should always have assumed that they might get wind of the fact that someone was trailing them. That they had done so through an immense stroke of luck was unknown to him. Even if he had known it, it wouldn't have changed things. A good leader should plan for bad luck.
As Halt and the others joined him, he nodded briefly.
There was no point in recriminations, he knew. Now all they could do was create the best defence they could. 'You're fighting them on foot?' Halt asked.
The Arridi nodded. 'No point in mounting and trying to charge them. We're too badly outnumbered.'
'And you'd be charging uphill,' Horace remarked. 'All the advantage would lie with them. Let them come to us.'
Selethen looked at him, a little surprised. For one so young, Horace had sized up the tactical situation quickly. Most of Selethen's young troopers would have chosen to charge the enemy, he knew. Horace saw the look, guessed at the thought behind it and shrugged. He'd had good teachers. He unsheathed his sword now, the blade hissing out of the scabbard.
Svengal was looking around the ring of Arridi warriors. They had their shields locked together and each man was armed with one of the slender lances they usually used from horseback. In addition, each one wore a curved sabre for close quarters work.
'Shield wall,' he said approvingly. 'Good work.'
It was a standard Skandian battle tactic and he felt instantly at home. He swung his massive battleaxe experimentally, the huge, heavy blade making a thick swooshing sound as it passed through the air. For now, he'd stand back. But the minute a gap appeared in the wall, he'd fill it. Any Tualaghi warrior planning on breaking through would have an ugly surprise waiting for him.
Horace looked at him and read his thoughts. 'I'll join you,' he said quietly, moving to stand shoulder to shoulder with the bear-like northerner. Svengal grinned at him.
'With us two, we could probably send the rest of these boys home,' he said.
Gilan and Halt also stood side by side, but in the centre of the ring formed by the shield wall. Evanlyn looked at them, her heart thudding nervously in her chest. They all seemed so calm. She was sure her hands were trembling. For a moment, she thought of getting her sling from where it was concealed, but she realised that the two Rangers' longbows would provide more than adequate long distance firepower. Instead, she accepted a spare shield from Selethen and eased her sabre in and out of its scabbard. No need to draw it yet, she thought. She swallowed nervously.
Halt saw her and called softly.
'Evanlyn, come here with us.' As she moved to stand beside the Rangers, he gestured to the ridge at their back. 'Gilan and I are going to concentrate our fire to the front. Keep an eye on the Tualaghi behind us. When they're within fifty metres, let us know and we'll switch.'
'Yes, Halt,' she said. Her mouth was dry and she didn't trust herself to say more.
Gilan grinned at her. 'Make sure we hear you,' he said. 'There'll be plenty of yelling going on.'
He was so relaxed and unworried, she thought. His casual manner helped to ease the butterflies that were swarming in her stomach.
Selethen approached them now. 'They'll try the easy way first,' he said. 'An all-out charge to see if they can break our position.'
'Might not turn out to be as easy as they think,' Gilan replied, testing the draw on his bow. Selethen regarded him for a moment. Soon, he thought, he would see just how well these two cloaked foreigners could shoot. He had the feeling that he wasn't going to be disappointed.
'Can I suggest you put four men with Svengal and Horace?' Halt said. 'Use them as a reserve for any place the line is broken.'
'Good idea,' Selethen replied. They might be outnumbered four to one but he suspected the Tualaghi were about to get a bloody nose. He called four names and the men he had selected dropped out of the shield wall and hurried back to where he stood. The others closed up the gaps where they had been as Svengal gave the four their orders.
'Just tell them to give me a little elbow room,' Svengal said. He was grinning, Evanlyn noticed. Finally, after the heat and the sand and the sore riding muscles, Svengal was about to do something he really enjoyed. She found herself smiling at the thought.
Halt noticed her lips twitching slightly. Good girl, he thought.
They heard the jingle of harness before any movement was perceptible. Then the two lines of horsemen began to move forward.
'Here they come,' Horace said quietly.
Chapter 33
'This is where we turn to head back,' Will told Tug. A tall pole had been hammered into the ground to mark the spot. The little horse studied the marker with interest.
Will turned and looked back towards the oasis. It was now out of sight, hidden by the undulating ground, but he knew it was four kilometres distant. Four kilometres out, four back. Eight in all. He had tried for twelve, then ten. Finally, he had to settle for an eight-kilometre race course. He hoped it would be far enough for Tug's stamina and staying power to assert itself over Sandstorm. It would be a close thing, he knew.
The Arridi horse was definitely faster over a short distance. For the first kilometre or two, he would leave Tug behind. But then the Ranger horse would start to reel him in as the Arridi stallion began to slow and Tug maintained his speed.
'We'll win it on the back leg,' Will told Tug. He had decided to walk the horse over the course to familiarise him with it, and to give them both a chance to spot any hidden holes or unevenness that might bring them down.
Tug shook his head and whinnied softly, At times like this, Will was never totally sure that the horse was just responding to the sound of his master's voice. It often seemed that he understood every word Will said to him and was agreeing or disagreeing.
Or we'll lose it on the back leg, Will thought. But he didn't speak the thought aloud in case it put negative concepts in Tug's mind. He hoped that the second four kilometres would give Tug the chance to make up the distance he'd lose on the first half of the race. Then, when they drew level with the Arridi horse and rider, another contest would begin.
Horses like Tug and Sandstorm hated to lose, hated to have another horse ahead of them. As Tug drew alongside Sandstorm, Will knew, the Arridi horse would dig deep for a greater effort – to put the little foreigner back in his place. Tug, meanwhile, would be straining for extra speed to pass the Arridi horse. It was then a matter of judgement for the two riders, to pick the point where they should let the horses' have their heads.
Too soon and the energy and speed would peter out before the finish line. Too late and there wouldn't be time to overtake. Each rider would do his best to force his opponent into going too early. The moment had to be just right or the result would be failure. Will frowned thoughtfully. He'd watched as Hassan had put Sandstorm through his paces. But he was sure the Arridi rider was holding something back.
As they walked back towards the oasis Tug's head butted him in the shoulder, sending him staggering.
Stop worrying, the horse seemed to say. I know what I'm doing, even if you don't.
'Just don't go too soon, that's all,' Will cautioned him. Again, Tug tossed his head disdainfully.
They walked slowly back into the oasis. Unlike Hassan, Will had no need to familiarise himself with his mount's little peculiarities. He and Tug knew each other's ways back to front and inside out. A curious crowd of Bedullin watched them as they entered the camp. It was early morning and the race was set for late that same afternoon, when the full heat of day had passed.