'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.