Two guards came out as the crowd celebrated Gan’s victory. They helped the now-hobbled Krackis out. Gan walked behind them under his own power.
“You cheated,” Krackis said through clenched teeth.
“I was under the impression there weren’t any rules.”
“There aren’t,” one of the guards said before Krackis could respond. “The only rule is that one person wins, and the other loses.”
Gan smiled. “Looks like rule number two applies to you, Krackis. Hope your leg heals soon.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
We’re getting closer,” Feena said without prompting, startling Komir next to her as he held the crodlu reins.
They had been in the wastes for two days without incident, which was nothing short of miraculous. Komir just knew that meant something horrible would happen that day, so he was completely on edge. Just then, they were trudging slowly up a rise. Shira and Torthal were asleep in the back-they were taking more and more midday naps.
From behind him in the front part of the carriage, Tricht’tha chittered something in Chachik, then: “We know we’re getting closer, that’s kind of the point of going through the wastes to Urik-to get closer.”
Shaking her head, Feena said, “No, I mean we’re closer to where Gan is. I can feel him now.”
“Good,” Komir said. “I’d hate to go all the way to Urik for no good reason. For all that I joked about it, Father’s right-King Hamanu is crazy.”
Zabaj had been walking alongside the carriage-his long legs could easily keep stride with the pace the crodlus were making while pulling the carriage uphill-and he suddenly moved closer to the front where Komir and the others were. “We need to be alert.”
Peering ahead, Komir saw what the mul was talking about. “That’s the top of the rise.”
Nodding, Zabaj said, “Prime ambush spot.” Then he started moving faster, wanting to be ahead of the crodlus when they arrived at the top of the rise in case there was an ambush.
Nervously, Komir flicked his wrists to whip the crodlus with the reins. It didn’t serve any useful function except to annoy the mounts, since they couldn’t really go any faster with the burden they had. But the last thing he wanted to deal with was an attack on the carriage, especially since they were traveling alone. Zabaj could handle most problems-few of the desert scavengers could stand up to a mul-and Tricht’tha could hold her own in a fight too.
That was more for use against those who couldn’t be talked to. Opponents who could hold a conversation were not ones that they were too terribly worried about.
Zabaj was standing at the top of the rise when the carriage arrived, hands on hips.
“We’re clear,” the mul said, three seconds before four people leaped out from beneath the sand.
Komir barely had time to acknowledge that they were there when one of them had grabbed Feena and yanked her down off the carriage. He smoothly wrapped an arm around her neck. They wore the trademark all-black of the Black Sands Raiders, though the outfits were a bit ragged and torn. Of their mounts, there was no sign-which was odd, as atop the rise, they could see everything for miles.
“Oh great,” Komir said, as much for the benefit of the others in the emporium still inside the carriage as it was for their attackers, “more raiders. Is there any way this trip can get worse?”
“Give us everything you have,” demanded the man with his arm on Feena’s neck, “or the girl dies.”
Tricht’tha chittered. “Thought the Black Sands only traveled in groups of twelve.”
“We did. The others’re dead, and our crodlus ran. We got nothin’ left, so we got nothin’ to lose. We want all your coin.”
Komir pointed behind the carriage. “Go about ten miles that way, you may catch up with it. You’re the third set of thieves we’ve hit since we left Raam.”
Another Raider spoke. “That’s a pretty well-laden carriage.” He was closest to Zabaj, and the mul was staring daggers at him, his fists clenching and opening. Zabaj wasn’t going to do anything until Feena was safe, but the fact that Feena was in danger didn’t speak well for the Raider’s continued survival if Zabaj had anything to say about it.
Shrugging, Komir said, “That’s merchandise. You wanna take it, knock yourself out, but without crodlus, you’re gonna have a hard time of it.”
The one holding Feena said, “We can take your mounts.”
“You crazy, Voras? It’ll take us weeks to get back if we’re carrying all this crap.”
Voras turned on the other one. “Shut up, Tralk.”
Another one said, “He’s right, I ain’t takin’ no carriage.”
The last one said, “Why not?”
From behind Komir, he heard his sister say, “Oh, please, let them take the carriage.”
Whirling around, Komir cried, “What?”
Climbing to the front of the carriage and taking the seat next to Komir where Feena had been before being grabbed, Karalith said, “Just let them take it. We’re close enough that we can get there on foot within a few days.” Before Komir could say anything, she said, “Just take it. We’ll walk to the spot on the map.”
Voras’s eyes widened. “What map?”
Komir put his head in his hands. “Nice one, Sis-why’d you mention the map? Two other sets of thieves come by, they take all our coin, as well as half the merchandise, and you don’t mention the map. Now you mention the map?”
“What map?” Voras asked again.
“Who cares?” Karalith pointed at the raiders. “They obviously want the merchandise. Look at them, they’ve got no mounts, no coin-they go back to their bosses like this, they’ll get their hands cut off. They bring back a merchant carriage, and it’ll be fine.” She turned to Voras. “Just let us keep the map, and the rest of it’s yours.”
Tightening his grip on Feena’s neck, Voras spoke very slowly. “If I have to ask again, the girl will be dead on the sand. What map?”
Karalith waved her arms back and forth. “Don’t hurt her. Look, it’s a treasure map, but you don’t want that. There’s merchandise in here that’s worth hundreds of gold.”
Komir didn’t react to that, but he was smiling inside, as the merchandise was actually worth thousands.
With one arm, Voras tightened his grip on Feena’s neck; with the other, he pulled out a bone knife and put it at Feena’s jugular. Komir saw Zabaj tense and take a step forward in the sand.
“Go ahead,” Voras said to Zabaj. “Move closer and kill her.” Then he turned to Karalith. “You will fetch this map.”
“What?” Karalith sounded stunned. “No, you don’t want that. It’ll take months to dig up the treasure. You’ve got all this merchandise right here, and we-”
“Fetch the map now or I will slit this woman’s throat.”
Zabaj moved toward the carriage. “I’ll get the fripping map.”
“No, Zabaj, please.” Karalith was starting to weep. “After all we went through to get that map-the merchandise is just stuff, they can have it, but the map is-”
Voras interrupted. “The map is going to be mine in about seven seconds or your woman-”
“Will die,” Komir finished, “we got it, already. Zabaj, get the map.”
The mul was already climbing into the back of the carriage. Komir prayed to the bright red sun of Athas, although he knew it wouldn’t heed his prayer, that Zabaj’s thumping around wouldn’t wake Shira and Torthal. Not that he doubted that they’d be able to go along with the game, but Torthal especially tended to be a bit out of it when he first woke up, and that might have ruined the whole thing.
But all he heard was Zabaj’s rooting around in the back of the carriage. So he kept an eye on Tralk and the other two, who also had gotten bone knives out.