Along with rest of the Bedine, she was in the bottom of a tiny mamlahah no more than two miles across. The small, flat-bottomed valley was surrounded by a cluster of low mountains. The canyons running out of the peaks were steep and short, with walls as sheer as ramparts. Within the last century, Kozah had raged mightily in the mountains, and the gorges had poured torrents of water into the mamlahah and created a shallow lake. Over the decades, At'ar had undone her husband's work, drying up the lake, baking the moisture from the clay-rich soil, and leaving in its place a plain of irregular, alabaster pentagons fired to ceramic hardness. In the middle of the plain sat all that remained of the lake, a muddy pond surrounded by a copse of acacia trees.
The area around the pond was dotted with black scars from Zhentarim cooking fires. Hundreds of shallow pits had been scratched into the hard ground where asabis had dug the holes in which they hid from the punishing heat of the day. In a circle around the pond, at distances ranging from two hundred to three hundred yards, lay the bodies of thirty Zhentarim sentries.
The guards had been killed yesterday by small parties of Bedine warriors using hit-and-run tactics. Twenty or thirty would ride into bow range and launch a volley at a few of the guards, then flee before the Zhentarim could counterattack. Sometimes two or three groups assaulted from different directions at the same time, but they always fled before the enemy could respond in force.
It was the same tactic the Bedine had been using since the destruction of Haushi's tribe. In daylight hours, the Zhentarim had to camp so their asabis could burrow into the ground and hide from At'ar. During this time, Bedine war parties lurked in a circle around the Zhentarim camp, firing their arrows whenever the opportunity to hit a target arose.
The invaders, handicapped by the necessity to protect their asabis, could not chase the war parties without leaving the sleeping mercenaries vulnerable to an attack by the main body of warriors. If the Zhentarim sent out a smaller patrol to attack a war party, the Bedine simply gathered enough force to wipe it out. The enemy had no choice but to accept the casualties and counterattack at night.
Even that had proven difficult for the invaders. When dusk came, the Bedine mounted and scattered into the desert, camping in small, widely dispersed groups. The Zhentarim could occasionally hunt down and destroy two or three war parties, but then they had to spend all night fighting instead of traveling-which could cause them even more trouble. The invaders had to find fresh pasturage almost daily, for the thousands of camels in their army decimated the foliage around their small campsites within a matter of minutes. In the end, the Zhentarim were left with only two choices: take the casualties inflicted by the war parties, or starve their camels and counterattack. So far, they had chosen to accept the casualties.
Unfortunately, it appeared to Ruha that they were trying a new tactic. Scattered around the muddy oasis were the contorted bodies of dozens of hares, a pack of jackals, and even a pair of ostriches that had come to drink after the Zhentarim departed last night. All of the animals had died within fifty yards of the pond. For the past few minutes, the Bedine army, which had gathered in a large crowd around the pond, had been staring at the scene with a mixture of outrage and disbelief.
As of yet, Lander was the only one who had dismounted. He was kneeling next to a jackal, using his dagger to pry the animal's mouth open. "This one bit its own tongue in two," the Harper said. "I'd say they all died of some sort of seizure."
"Poison," Sa'ar hissed, staring at the bodies of the other dead animals.
For several moments, no one said anything else. The warriors and the sheikhs just stared at the poisoned water, unable to comprehend the malevolence of men who would commit such a profane act.
At last Utaiba said, "It would have been bitter water anyway. Standing ponds always are."
"Bitter or not, it was an oasis, and it is a blasphemy to foul it," said Kabina, Sa'ar's burly warrior. He pointed toward the mountains. "They shall pay for this atrocity with their blood."
"Especially the Ju'ur Dai," said Sa'ar. "For a Bedine tribe to do this…" The burly sheikh shook his head, unable to find the words to express his outrage. "No punishment can be too terrible. Let us find them today!"
A chorus of agreement rose from the throats of hundreds of thirsty warriors, but Lander shook his head.
Sheathing his dagger, he approached Utaiba and the other sheikhs, saying, "That's what the Zhentarim want. In the past three weeks, you've killed more than five hundred of them without losing even a hundred Bedine. Yhekal poisoned the well because you're winning this war. He's trying to force you into making a mistake. Don't fall for his ruse."
Utaiba regarded the Harper thoughtfully, then nodded. "What you say is true-"
"Truth doesn't put water in our skins," Sa'ar interrupted. "If Yhekal is trying to push us into action, he has succeeded. Our camels are thirsty and our waterskins are nearly empty. The only oasis within five days of here is on the other side of those mountains." The stout sheikh thrust his finger in the same direction that Kabina had pointed earlier. "We cannot reach it without going through the same pass that the Zhentarim are in now. Our only choices are to attack or to return to the last oasis and let the invaders escape."
"Or to let thirst swell our tongues until we choke on them," added Kabina, glancing at the other warriors. "I prefer to fight."
Utaiba nodded, then addressed his fellow sheikhs. "Sa'ar and Lander are both correct. As Sa'ar says, we must attack, but Lander is also right. In that canyon, the advantage of terrain will go to the Zhentarim. I am afraid that our only choice is to return to the last oasis for water. Only then should we try to catch the invaders again."
"Giving them time to poison another oasis?" Sa'ar demanded. "If we do that, Anauroch is lost."
"As it is if the Zhentarim destroy this army," Utaiba said.
"Perhaps there is another way," Ruha suggested.
The sheikhs looked to her with arched brows, unaccustomed to having women intrude during such debates. Their surprise lasted only a moment, however, for they were growing used to the idea that Ruha was no ordinary Bedine woman. "Can your magic cleanse the water of its poison?" Utaiba asked hopefully.
The widow shook her head. "Unfortunately, I have no spells that can restore the oasis," she said. "But I do have one that might deceive the Zhentarim into thinking a small attack was a large one."
"What good would that do?" Sa'ar asked, frowning.
"Given the opportunity, the Zhentarim would surely destroy us, would they not?" Ruha asked.
All of the sheikhs nodded their heads in agreement, but it was Lander who picked up on the widow's plan. "Are you suggesting that we turn Yhekal's trap against him?"
Ruha nodded. "We will take two khowwans and attack as the Zhentarim want us to," she said, smiling beneath her veil. "My spell will make it look like all of our tribes are assaulting. The battle will go against us, and we will have to flee. Yhekal will no doubt send his men to pursue, anxious to destroy us while we are vulnerable."
"And the routed khowwans will lead the Zhentarim into an ambush manned by the other twelve tribes," Lander added. "A brilliant plan!"
"And after we finish with the Zhentarim, we will destroy the asabis in their burrows," Sa'ar added enthusiastically. He gave the widow a conniving smile. "You think like a camel thief, Ruha."
The other sheikhs gave their approval to the plan. As they worked out the details, Ruha forced her camel to kneel, then dismounted and removed Qoha'dar's spellbook from her djebiras. Each night the young widow memorized the spells she thought might be useful the next day, but she wanted to look over the spell with which she intended to fool the Zhentarim.