Erak's Ransom

Chapter 19

'When were you planning on sharing this information with us?' Halt's voice was deceptively calm.

Selethen shrugged. 'Once the bargaining was complete. I had him removed from Al Shabah three days ago, when your ship was first sighted. There was always the chance that we might not reach an agreement and in that case, I wanted the prisoner where his crew couldn't attempt a sneak attack to rescue him.' He glanced at Svengal. 'No offence.'

The Skandian drew a deep breath and let it out very slowly. He was obviously making a huge effort to control himself.

'You know, one of these days, I'm actually going to take offence if people keep throwing out these slurs. And then things are going to get rather ugly. When we Skandians take offence, we do it with a battleaxe.'

Selethen inclined his head. 'In that case, accept my deepest apologies. In any event, now that the bargaining is successful, I'll send word to Mararoc and have the Oberiarl brought back here. As soon as the warrant is sealed and delivered to me.'

'Oh no. I don't think so,' Evanlyn said immediately. 'I'm not handing over the best part of seventy thousand reels until I've seen the goods are undamaged.' For a moment, she was about to say 'no offence' to Svengal for referring to his Oberjarl as 'goods'. In the light of his previous statement, she thought it wiser not to.

They had reached an impasse. Selethen was not willing to bring Erak back to the coast until the money had been exchanged. Equally, Evanlyn was not going to pay until she had proof Erak was unharmed. The two negotiators stared at each other stubbornly. Will finally broke the silence.

'Why don't we go to Mararoc to fetch him?' he asked Selethen. 'The Princess can reassure herself that Erak is all right and hand over the warrant there.'

It was significant, he thought, that both Evanlyn and Selethen looked immediately to Halt for a response. The older Ranger was nodding.

'I think it's a good idea,' he said. It was a fair compromise. And in addition, he could see there were advantages to travelling inland in Arrida. Very few Araluans had ever ventured more than a kilometre from the coast and a Ranger's thirst for strategic knowledge was insatiable. He looked at Selethen. 'I assume you'll ensure the Princess's safety?'

'We'll take an escort of fifty of my men,' he agreed. 'And my crew,' Svengal put in. 'After all, we've sworn to protect the Princess.'

This time, however, Selethen didn't agree.

'No,' he said flatly. 'I'm not allowing an armed force of Skandians to go marching across Arrida.'

'There's only thirty of them,' Svengal said ingenuously. Selethen smiled grimly.

'Thirty Skandians,' he said, 'are the equivalent of a small army.'

Svengal had to grin modestly at that assessment. Selethen switched his gaze to Halt.

'I can't allow it,' he said simply.

Halt nodded. 'He's right, Svengal. You wouldn't allow a hundred Arridi warriors to go wandering around Skandia, would you?'

Svengal chewed his moustache thoughtfully and eventually he had to agree that Halt was right.

The Ranger saw him wavering and added, 'And I think the five of us, along with Selethen and fifty warriors, should be enough to keep the Princess safe.'

Evanlyn coughed lightly and they all looked at her.

'I think the Princess,' she said archly, 'would prefer it if you didn't discuss her as if she weren't in the room.' She smiled at Svengal then and added: 'I'm happy to release your men from their oath for the short time it will take us to get to Mararoc.'

Then she turned to Selethen.

'So when do we get started?'

They left in the pre-dawn greyness the following morning. Selethen pointed out that the Arridi preferred to travel in the hours before noon, by which time the sun had reached its full heat. None of the Araluans saw any reason to disagree with him.

The sea breeze followed them for the first kilometre or two. The early morning was fresh and cool and they covered ground quickly. Selethen had supplied Evanlyn with a horse – one of the local breed favoured by Arridi warriors. It was taller than the horses the three Rangers rode – finer boned and more delicate looking. Its coat was smooth and short-haired, in contrast to the shaggy little horses. It had a short muzzle and a handsome, intelligent face. Obviously bred for flashing speed in short bursts, thought Halt as he admired the beast. And undoubtedly able to cope with the heat and dryness of the desert.

The Arridi leader had offered Horace a similar mount but Horace had chosen to stay with Kicker.

'He knows my ways,' he said, smiling.

There was a long, thin band of orange creeping above the low hills in the east as they rode inland. The sea breeze faded away as they got farther from the coast but the air was still chilled. The clear nights in the desert allowed heat to escape into the atmosphere, Selethen had warned them. Nights were surprisingly cold while the days became hot and searing.

'I thought deserts were supposed to be all sand,' Horace said to Will, surveying the hard, rocky surface they were crossing.

Selethen heard the comment and turned to him.

'You'll see plenty of that when we reach the Sand Depression,' he said. 'The ground we're crossing now is the coastal plain. Then there's a belt of sand dunes that stretches for thirty-odd kilometres before we reach the inland escarpment. We climb several hundred metres to the site of Mararoc.'

'So we'll see plenty of the country,' Horace said cheerfully.

The three Rangers exchanged quick glances. The previous night, Halt had called Will and Gilan to his room. 'This is a great opportunity to learn something about the inland areas of Arridi,' he said. 'After the first few kilometres, whatever maps we have in Araluen are sheer guesswork.'

Will and Gilan listened eagerly. Rangers were obsessed with information gathering, and knowledge of the topography of a country could be vital if there were ever any future confrontation with the Arridi.

'Take notice of any major land features – cliffs, hills, tors, wells. Particularly wells. When we rest, note them down. We'll compare notes each evening, to make sure we keep it as accurate as possible. Then we'll draw a chart of the day's progress. Do you both have your Northseekers?' he asked.

The two younger men nodded. The Northseekers were magnetised slivers of steel set in a protective container and free to swivel as the magnetic field of the earth dictated. Their use and value had originally been discovered by the Skandians. All Rangers carried them.

'Then use them,' Halt went on. 'But try to make sure Selethen doesn't notice too much of what we're doing.' Selethen was no fool. He saw the quick look that passed between the three Rangers and resolved to keep a close eye on them. There was no current animosity between their countries. But who knew when that might change?

The glaring eye of the sun had slid up over the rim of the earth now – a vast red ball rising into the sky. It interested Will that at this time of day it was possible to discern the sun's movement. One moment it was just broaching the horizon, next it was soaring freely. And already its heat was starting to bite, dispelling the remaining chill of the dark hours.

'Don't like the look of that,' Svengal muttered. He was riding a heavy-set workhorse. The slender Arridi breed would have been too light to carry his bulky frame over a long journey. Selethen looked at him curiously and the Skandian pointed towards the sun.

'When you see a red sunrise like that at sea, you start looking for a harbour,' he said.

The Wakir nodded. 'Same in the desert. It often means a storm. But not always,' he added, smiling reassuringly at Evanlyn.

During the hours before dawn, they had ridden as a group, with Selethen's men riding in a ring around them. Now that visibility had improved, he blew on a small silver whistle and the troop took up its daylight positions. A squad of five riders cantered forward until they were a kilometre in advance – still in sight but able to give ample warning of any impending attack. They spread out into line abreast, each man several hundred metres from his neighbour.

Another five dropped back and formed a similar screen to the rear. The remaining forty men spit into two files riding either side of the command group, a hundred metres out and on parallel paths. It was one advantage of travelling in such bare, featureless country, Halt thought.' Selethen could deploy his men across a wide space without having to keep them bunched up on a track.

The other notable feature of the formation was that it precluded the men talking among themselves and missing any possible threat. The horsemen in the two parallel files were all facing outwards, he noticed, their eyes scanning the horizon.

He nudged Abelard up level with Selethen's pure white stallion.

'Expecting trouble?' he asked, nodding at the wide-flung screen of men protecting them. Selethen shrugged.

'Always expect trouble in the desert. Then you usually won't meet it.'

Halt nodded appreciatively. 'Very wise,' he remarked. 'Who said that first?'

Selethen allowed himself a thin smile. 'A very wise man,' he said. 'Me, in fact.'

He glanced round. He could see the younger of the three Rangers making a note on a small sheet of parchment. He was staring intently at a hill in the distance with a distinctive hooked shape to its peak. He decided there was little he could do to stop this activity.

He realised Halt was asking another question.

'You mentioned the Tualaghi,' the Ranger said. He nodded meaningfully at the protective screen around them. 'I'd heard you had them pretty well under control.'

Selethen shook his head in exasperation. 'Nobody can keep those devils under control for too long. What do you know of them?'

Halt shrugged. 'They're raiders. Bandits. Assassins,' he said.

Selethen nodded grimly. 'All of that and worse. We call them the Forgotten of God, the Blue-Veiled Riders. They despise the true religion. They worship devils and demons and they're committed to murder and robbery and pillage. The trouble is, they know the desert like the back of their hands and they can strike and fade away before we have a chance to retaliate. They have no honour and no sense of pity. If you are not one of them, you are not human. Your life is worthless.'

'But you did manage to defeat them at one stage?' Halt prompted.

'Yes. We formed an alliance with the Bedullin.' Selethen saw the question forming on the other man's lips and went on to explain. 'They're a desert nomad tribe. Warriors. Independent and very proud. But they're honourable people. They know the desert nearly as well as the Tualaghi and they joined with us in a temporary alliance to bring them to heel.'

'Pity you couldn't make it permanent,' Halt said.

Selethen looked at him. 'Indeed. But as I say, the Bedullin are proud and independent. They're like hawks. You can use them to hunt for you for a while. But they're always really hunting for themselves. Perhaps it's time I approached them again to put the Tualaghi back in their place.'

Halt noticed that the Wakir was looking more and more often to the southern horizon. He followed the man's gaze and could see a thin dark line there.

'Trouble?' he said. Selethen flashed him a reassuring grin.

'Maybe. But at least the Tualaghi won't worry us. They move in groups of no more than ten. Fifty warriors would be too big a force for them to attack.'

'Quite so,' Halt murmured. 'Yet a wise man should always expect trouble, didn't you say?' Unconsciously, his 'hand touched the string of the massive longbow slung across his shoulders. Selethen noticed the action. He glanced at the southern horizon again. The dark line had thickened noticeably. And it seemed closer. His hand went to the silver whistle inside his shirt.

'I think I'll call the outriders in a little closer,' he said. 'Invisibility could become a problem before too long.'

Svengal had urged his sturdy horse up alongside them. He gestured to the approaching storm.

'Seen that?' he asked, and Selethen nodded. 'When we get hit by one of them at sea, it's full of wind and water and rain so thick you can't breathe. What's in that one?'

'Sand,' Selethen told them. 'Lots and lots of sand.'