Some hours later, Ruha felt her mount shift from its pebble-sore stride to a softer tread more suitable for dust or sand. She opened her eyes and saw that the caravan now traveled in a more tightly knit formation.
Sa’ar still rode next to Ruha, but his attention was focused on a scout urgently whispering at his side. The sun had already touched the horizon, and night would soon fall. The dusk seemed unusually quiet and tense. Aside from the scout’s murmuring voice and Sa’ar’s jingling bells, the only sounds breaking the twilight were the soft footfalls of weary camels.
The caravan had left the burnished pebbles of At’ar’s Looking Glass behind. It now rode over a carpet of dust, indigo colored in the failing light. To all sides, the purplish towers of rock that had seemed so distant earlier rose like minarets into the sky.
The Well of the Chasm lay less than a mile ahead, Ruha knew, through a labyrinth of stony spires that led to a deep canyon. Over a distance of several miles, the canyon descended to a depth of five hundred feet and ended in a boulder-strewn hollow. In the center of this small valley, a deep pit penetrated the bedrock to tap an underground stream of rust-colored water.
While Sa’ar conversed with the scout, a knot of concerned warriors slowly gathered around. They rode in silence, straining to hear what the scout was reporting to the sheikh. Even Lander and Kadumi had returned, riding side-by-side a few yards to the widow’s right. Ruha began to feel swarmed by the silent throng and wished that Sa’ar had selected some other part of the caravan for his conference.
When the scout stopped whispering to him, Sa’ar wasted no time with deliberations or thought. He simply looked up and addressed his warriors. “Ready your bows and your scimitars,” he ordered, signaling the caravan to stop. “Have the women wait here. If we do not return by dawn or if I send word for them to flee, they are to scatter into the desert. Should this happen, tell them not to wait for us, for we will not be joining them.”
When the warriors did not relay his orders quickly enough, Sa’ar barked, “Do it now!”
As the throng dispersed, Lander urged his mount close to Ruha and Sa’ar. “What is happening, Sheikh?”
“The Zhentarim are camped outside the canyon leading to the Well of the Chasm,” Sa’ar replied. “They are just sending their asabis to destroy the Raz’hadi. We assume that our allies will meet the attackers in the narrowest part of the canyon. We are going to try to drive the Zhentarim away from their campsite, then attack the asabis from behind and free the Raz’hadi.”
Lander shook his head. “There are too many Zhentarim. You’ll never drive them away. They’ll just wipe you out while the asabis destroy your allies.”
“Perhaps,” the sheikh replied. “But we must fight. It is a matter of honor for the entire khowwan.”
“Though it means dying in vain?”
“Even so,” Sa’ar acknowledged, nodding. “This is not your fight, berrani. You and Kadumi should wait with the women. Flee if we do not return.”
“I choose to fight,” Kadumi called, drawing his scimitar. “The Zhentarim killed my father and my brothers in combat, and they slaughtered my mother and sisters without cause. It is my right to seek their blood.”
The sheikh regarded the boy with a sad expression. “As you say, it is your right. You may ride with my warriors.”
Lander spoke next. “This is not my fight, Sheikh, but I know more about the Zhentarim than any of your warriors. If you allow me to accompany you, I may be able to offer some advice.”
Sa’ar nodded. “I was hoping you would volunteer to do this, for those who know their enemies will prevail more often. I will keep you safe.”
“Then I’ll stay with Lander,” Ruha said, intruding on the conversation that had been going on all around her.
Both the sheikh and Kadumi scowled at the widow, and Lander studied her with an expression of surprise and puzzlement.
“Out of the question!” Sa’ar roared.
“Why?” Ruha countered. “You have promised to keep Lander safe. Surely it will cause no trouble to extend that protection to me.”
“Lander rides with me because he may prove of use during the battle,” the sheikh said. “Aside from being an unnecessary source of worry, what can you contribute to the warriors’ cause?”
Lander’s good eye flashed with inspiration. He turned from Ruha to the sheikh. “Perhaps Ruha is concerned about what will happen to her if we do not return,” the Harper said. “After all, she is a stranger to the Mahwa and has only Kadumi and me to watch after her.”
Sa’ar looked irritated. “She can’t think she will be safer at the battlefield!”
The widow said, “But I do. With Kadumi riding into the middle of the fight, I would feel much safer in Lander’s company.” Ruha glanced at her brother-in-law meaningfully. “Unless, of course, Kadumi prefers to stay with me and the other women during the battle.”
The youth clenched his teeth, and the widow saw that her threat was not lost on him. After giving Ruha a quick scowl, Kadumi addressed Sa’ar. “If it pleases the sheikh, I would entrust my sister-in-law to Lander’s care. I have seen him fight and believe that even in the thick of battle, she will be safe with him.”
“If that’s what you want, then I approve,” the sheikh said, impatiently turning his attention away from the trio. “Now I must go and prepare my sons for battle.”
The three hundred warriors of the Mahwa said good-bye to their loved ones over the next quarter-hour, then gathered with their camels and weapons. Along with Kadumi and Lander, Ruha waited at the edge of the gathering, wondering what the night would bring. Several times, Lander started to ask a question of her, but Kadumi, who was straying no more than twenty feet from her side, always came over to smother the conversation.
By the time the last radiance of At’ar had vanished from the western sky, the sheikh was satisfied with his tribe’s battle preparations. He drew his scimitar and waved his warriors forward. The small force mounted their camels and formed themselves into a column, then slipped between the hulking rock spires without a sound.
As Sa’ar’s advisor, Lander rode at the sheikh’s side. Ruha and Kadumi were a few yards behind the Harper. Like the rest of the column, they proceeded in tense silence, their thoughts occupied with images of what the night would bring.
Within a half-mile of travel, the sheikh sent Kadumi forward to join the rest of the warriors. When the boy was gone, Lander allowed his camel to fall back, then turned to Ruha and whispered, “What do you have in mind?”
The widow frowned, confused. “I don’t understand.”
“What’s your plan?” he asked. “Why did you ask to join the battle?”
“To watch your back,” she replied honestly.
The Harper’s jaw drooped. “What about your—?” He finished the question by gesturing as if he were casting a spell.
Ruha raised her brow. “That’s not why I came,” she whispered, glancing at Sa’ar’s back to make sure he wasn’t eavesdropping on them. “What do you think I can do that will give three hundred men victory over three thousand?”
“You did okay at the ambush,” Lander countered. “I thought you had an idea.”
“No,” Ruha said. “I just didn’t want to be left alone.”
The Harper rubbed his chin, then looked toward the front of the column. “Just the same, it can’t hurt having you here.”
They rode for another ten minutes before the column rounded a wishbone-shaped spire familiar to the widow. This had been the first oasis that Ruha had visited after Qoha’dar’s death, so she recognized the terrain ahead. Less than two hundred yards away, a flat outcropping of rock rose from the desert floor, its walls draped in darkness. At the small plateau’s southern end there was a narrow gap, barely visible in the pale light of the crescent moon. That gap was the beginning of the narrow, winding canyon that descended to the Well of the Chasm.