'Expecting trouble, Halt?' Evanlyn asked.
The Ranger shrugged. 'It'd be silly not to,' he said. 'Unless you can suggest a reason why those four riders just happen to be riding along beside us.'
'Seven,' Evanlyn told him.
Halt looked again to see that their number had indeed grown. He also saw that Evanlyn's sling had appeared in her hand and was swinging slowly back and forth in a pendulum motion. There was obviously a missile loaded into the pouch at its centre. He smiled grimly at her.
'Bit far for that stone chucker of yours,' he said and Evanlyn shrugged.
'You never know. Besides,' she pointed past the bow, 'the channel seems to be narrowing.'
They all looked forward then and they could see that she was right. Sandbanks had formed on the northern side of the channel, cutting the width down considerably.
Halt rubbed his beard as he studied them. 'Hmmm. Not sure that they'll be able to come any closer, even with that. Those banks look pretty soft to me.'
Will returned and handed Halt his bow and a quiver of arrows. He had his own quiver slung over his shoulder and both his bow and Halt's were already strung. Halt nodded his thanks and flexed the bowstring experimentally.
'Maybe we should edge over to the south bank anyway?' Selethen suggested. That side, they could see, was significantly clear of sandbars. The bank itself seemed to be cut straight and clean, rising almost vertically from the water to a height of five or six metres.
'It's very inviting,' Halt said. 'Perhaps too much so.'
'You're right, Ranger,' Gundar told him. His sailor's eyes, used to looking for signs of submerged obstacles, had detected several suspicious eddies on the surface on the southern side of the channel. 'I'd say there are obstructions just below the surface on that side, waiting for us to get tangled up on them.'
'Sandbars, you mean?' Selethen asked.
Gundar shook his head. 'More likely spikes and logs and heavy cables set to stop us and hold us fast.'
'So the lads beyond the ridge on that side can come visit us at their leisure,' Halt put in. He had been studying the south bank, suspicious of the fact that the riders on the north bank had revealed themselves, and that the southern part of the channel seemed to offer safety. A few seconds previously, he had caught a flash of light, as if the sun had briefly reflected off a sword or helmet. He was willing to bet there were several score of warriors concealed on the south bank, waiting for the moment when the ship became entangled in the underwater barriers that Gundar had detected.
He told the others what he had seen and they all looked carefully at the south bank. After a few seconds, Will caught sight of a small movement as well.
'There's someone there, all right,' he said.
'And there are quite a few of them,' Selethen added. 'There's just the faintest haze of dust in the air where they've been moving into position. Not enough wind to disperse it.'
'I guess they expected our attention to be focused on the riders,' Alyss said.
Even as she said it, the seven horsemen on the north bank spurred their horses to move a little ahead of the ship. Then they reined in and unslung their bows, fitting arrows to their bowstrings.
Halt glanced warningly at Gundar but the skirl had seen the movement.
'Shields on the bulwarks!' he called and the relief rowing crew clambered down into the rowing well and set eight of the big Skandian shields in brackets on the bulwark to cover the rowers. In many years of raiding and fighting, the Skandians had been shot at before and knew how to protect themselves.
'I doubt they have the range to reach us,' Halt said. 'But it never hurts to play it safe.'
They heard the familiar clatter and hiss of the arrows leaving the bows and arcing through the air towards the ship. As Halt had predicted, the range was too great for the short bows. Six of the arrows fell harmlessly into the water. The seventh struck the hull a metre above the waterline but, devoid of energy, it dropped away with a dull splash.
'Out of range,' Will said. 'You were right.'
'I'm not sure if they really meant to hit us or just divert our attention,' Halt replied. 'But either way, I think we might show them it's a bad idea to ride along there.'
He nocked an arrow to his own bowstring. Will did the same. The riders released another volley, which again fell short of Wolfwill.
'Take the one at the back with the purple turban, Will. I'll take the one beside him,' Halt said quietly. Will nodded.
'Now,' said Halt and they brought their bows up, drew and released in almost one movement.
The two arrows, one black and one grey, shot away, climbing into the hot air, then arcing down.
The riders Halt had singled out were in the act of shooting again when the two long, heavy arrows hissed down and struck them. Halt's target yelled in pain, dropping his bow and clutching at the arrow that had suddenly slammed into his upper arm. The man in the purple turban made no sound. He toppled sideways out of his saddle and hit the brown sand with a dull thud.
There were yells of confusion as their five companions scattered in panic. The message was all too clear. Their own volleys had fallen short of the target, while the two return shots had hit targets at the rear of their group, farthest from the ship. Which meant all of them were within easy range. Suddenly, they felt very, very exposed. They wheeled their horses away from the bank and rode over the crest to safety, the riderless horse following them.
Only the man in the purple turban remained, lying unmoving on the sand.
A few seconds later, the men on the south bank seemed to realise that their ambush had been detected. They appeared above the crest of the bank, waving weapons and yelling insults and curses at the ship as it glided arrogantly by. There were over two score of them, raggedly dressed and armed with an assortment of swords, spears and daggers, with several short bows among them. The bowmen shot a few ragged volleys but they were all well short of the ship. Will looked at Halt, then glanced down at the bow in his hands, but the bearded Ranger shook his head.
'Leave them,' Halt said. 'They can't hurt us and now they know it's safer to leave us alone.' He turned to Gundar. 'All the same, it might not be a good idea to anchor anywhere midstream for a rest.'
The sun was setting astern of them, a giant ball turned blood red by the tiny particles of sand that hung in the desert air, when they slipped quietly out of the Assaranyan Channel into the Blood Sea – a narrow gulf that led eventually to the wide spaces of the Eastern Ocean.
'I guess that's where the name comes from,' Will said, jerking a thumb at the water's surface behind them.
The intense glow of the sunset was reflected in the surface of the water, turning it to the same spectacular red colour, shimmering and shifting on the waves as they trapped and reflected the last light of the day so that the water itself looked like a sea of blood.
A gentle sea breeze sprang up from the south once they were several hundred metres offshore. It was warm, but nonetheless welcome after the stultifying heat that had engulfed them as they rowed through the channel.
'Make sail,' Gundar ordered. In the absence of roaring wind and waves, he could give his commands in a much calmer voice than his normal bellow. The sail handlers hurried to unfurl the port sail and hoist the slender boom that supported it to the masthead. As the wind caught the canvas and it bellied out, he gave more quick orders.
'Sheet home. In oars.'
The long oars rose, dripping, from the water. There were a few seconds of clattering and banging as the rowers drew them inboard and stowed them along the line of the ship. At the same time, the sailing crew hauled in on the sheets controlling the triangular sail. Initially bellying out loosely in the wind, it now hardened into a smooth, efficient curve and the passengers felt the harnessed thrust of the wind take effect. Wolfwill heeled a little to port, then Gundar leaned his weight on the tiller, heading the ship at right angles to the wind.