'There's something you ought to know before you leave,' he said.
It was four days after the race – a race that was already set to become part of the Bedullin verbal history. In that time, Will and Tug had been feted by the tribe, and fussed over nonstop by Cielema. The cheerful, grinning foreigner and his amazing barrel-bodied horse had become popular figures in the camp. Hassan and Will had become good friends too – the young man bore no grudge for being defeated in the race and losing his claim to Tug. The Bedullin were inveterate gamblers, as Will had noticed, but they accepted their losses without complaint.
The friendship was helped along by the fact that Umar, delighted with the outcome of the race, had presented Hassan with a horse from his own herd – a blood relative of Sandstorm. Hassan was overjoyed and had volunteered to guide Will on his way to Mararoc.
The mystery of the faltering Northseeker had finally been solved. Asked how he had planned to navigate the trackless desert, Will had shown them the Northseeker and explained the secret of its magnetic properties. To demonstrate, he had brought the blade of his saxe knife close to the needle and showed how it wavered away from the earth's magnetic field. It took only seconds for Umar to see the connection.
'You rode through the Red Hills?' he said and Will confirmed the fact. 'But they're almost pure iron – huge deposits of iron. Surely that would serve to make your instrument unreliable.'
As Will realised the truth of the statement, he felt a small sense of relief. In the back of his mind, he had still harboured a vague suspicion that Selethen had given him a false map. On top of that, he felt an unreasonable guilt that he had somehow failed Halt's belief in him. Now that he could see a reason for the mistake – and realised that he couldn't have foreseen it – he could lay those fears to rest.
While he had been preparing Tug for their departure, a rider had come in from the desert – dusty and dishevelled, riding a tired horse. He had reported straight away to Umar's tent. Will had watched with no particular interest. Doubtless it was some business of concern only to the Bedullin. Now, however, he wasn't so sure.
He followed Umar to the wide-spread, low tent that he occupied with Cielema. Stooping, he entered and made the required lips-brow-lips greeting gesture. In the past few days, he had become familiar with it.
The tent was floored with a thick carpet, with soft cushions scattered across it. He selected one and sat cross-legged on it in the tribe's fashion. A Bedullin he hadn't seen before was sitting on another, eating and drinking eagerly as Cielema plied him with fruit and water. He looked up at Will, then glanced curiously at Umar.
'This is Jamil, one of our scouts,' Umar explained and the Bedullin nodded in greeting. He was in his thirties, Will estimated, although it was hard to tell with the Bedullin men, whose skin was usually brown and heavily lined by the sun.
'This is the foreigner I told you about. His name is Will.'
Again Will made the greeting gesture. It seemed appropriate, he thought. Jamil seemed a little surprised that a foreigner should have a grasp of Bedullin etiquette and he responded hastily. Will glanced at Umar, a question on his face. The Aseikh gestured to Jamil to proceed.
'Tell Will what you have told us.'
Jamil finished eating an orange, licked the last of the juice off his fingers, and wiped his mouth with a cloth.
'You were travelling with a group of Arridi soldiers?' he said. It was as much a statement as a question. Will nodded confirmation, his brow furrowing. He sensed, from the man's serious manner, that something had gone wrong.
'That's right,' he said.
'And there were other foreigners as well… two of them dressed as you are.' He indicated the mottled brown cloak Will was wearing. Again, Will nodded. The Bedullin scout shook his head in displeasure at the fact and Will's premonition of impending bad news deepened.
'What's happened to them?' he asked. The Bedullin looked at him a moment, then, thankfully, came straight to the point without any useless attempts to soften the news.
'They've been captured by the Tualaghi,' he said.
Will looked quickly at Umar. 'The Tualaghi?' he queried.
The Aseikh's expression was one of intense distaste.
'Brigands. Bandits. The Forgotten of God. They're nomads like us but they prey on other travellers and undefended villages. They encircled your friends and captured them. Now they're taking them towards the northern massif, along with Wakir Seley el'then and his surviving men. There was a skirmish,' he added in explanation and Will felt a stab of fear.
'A skirmish? Were any of the foreigners hurt?'
Jamil shook his head. 'No. They were taken and chained with the other foreigner. They are captives like him. It seems that – '
This was all moving too fast for Will. He held up a hand to stop the Bedullin's account.
'Just a moment! The other foreigner? What other foreigner are you talking about?'
Jamil nodded apologetically, realising that more explanation was required.
'The Tualaghi had captured another foreigner. One of the wild men from the north. There was one of them with your group too,' he added.
Will's head was spinning. There could only be one person he was talking about. But Erak had been in Arridi hands last he had heard.
'This is crazy,' he said. 'You must mean Erak. But he was being taken to Mararoc with an Arridi caravan. How has he suddenly turned up with these Tualaghi?'
Jamil shrugged. Umar rubbed his nose thougthfully.
'Perhaps the Tualaghi attacked the caravan and captured the Northman?' he suggested.
Will nodded to himself, thinking furiously. If that had been the case, Gilan and Halt would have been able to read the signs of the attack. Then they would have set out after the ambushers, with Selethen and his men in company. He shook his head to clear his thoughts. It didn't matter how it had happened, he realised. The plain fact was that it had happened.
He was surprised, however, that Halt and Gilan had been so careless as to allow the Tualaghi bandits to get wind of them.
'Do you have any idea how the Tualaghi learned that my friends were tracking them?' he asked.
This time, the Bedullin's eyes slid away in shame. He hesitated a moment before he could bring himself to answer.
'I'm afraid I led them to your friends' camp,' he said. And as Will began to rise angrily from his sitting position, he hastily held out a hand.
'No! Please! It was unintentional! I had no idea your friends were there. I saw the Tualaghi party in the distance and I went closer to find out more about them. They were a much larger party than usual – at least two hundred, maybe more. After dark, I crept close to their camp to see more clearly. That was when I saw the Northman – they had him chained up in the open.
'I left before dawn and headed towards here. I must have passed close to your friends' camp without ever seeing them. But a Tualaghi rearguard scout found my tracks and followed them later that morning – and they led him to your friends. They were travelling parallel to the Veiled Ones, several kilometres away. If I hadn't inadvertently crossed their track, the Tualaghi would never have known they were there.'
'How do you know all this?' Will asked.
The scout replied unhappily. 'I went back the next day to check further. I had no idea then that my tracks had been discovered. But I saw where the Tualaghi had followed me, saw where they crossed your friends' path and turned to follow them. They must have thought I was part of that group. I'm sorry, Will. I had no idea I was bringing danger to your friends.'