Erak's Ransom

Chapter 22

Will selected a horse from the ten remounts travelling with their escort. He was a roan and the smallest of the Arridi horses. It was an unconscious choice and he realised afterwards that he had probably picked a smaller horse to make himself feel more at home.

'His name is Arrow,' the Arridi horsemaster told him. He smiled at the massive longbow slung over Will's shoulder. 'An appropriate choice. And a good one. You have an eye for horses.'

'Thank you,' Will said, taking the horse's bridle and giving the girth straps an experimental tug. He'd been taught never to rely on other people's judgement when it came to a horse's tack. The Arridi watched approvingly. He wasn't insulted by the action.

There were two full water skins slung over the saddle bow and a small tent and blanket rolled up and fastened behind the saddle. Will's own camping gear had disappeared into the storm with Tug. He led Arrow back to the small group of his friends, waiting to farewell him. The horse resisted at first, turning back to his own familiar comrades and whinnying. Then as Will pulled firmly on the bridle and spoke encouragingly to him, he went along obediently.

Horace shook Will's hand wordlessly, then took the horse's bridle while Will went round the group, making his farewells. Evanlyn hugged him, tears in her eyes.

'Good luck, Will,' she whispered into his ear. 'Stay safe. I know you'll find him.'

Gilan shook hands firmly, looking into his friend's eyes with a worried expression on his face.

'Find him, Will. I wish I was coming with you.'

Will shook his head. 'We've been through this already, Gilan.' He didn't elaborate on the point because he knew if Evanlyn knew he was going alone so that she would be safer, she would object fiercely. And Evanlyn objecting was not something he wanted to deal with now.

Svengal was next. He grabbed the slightly built Ranger in a typical Skandian bear hug. 'Travel safely, boy,' he said. 'Find that horse and come back to us.'

'Thanks, Svengal. Just make sure you don't waste any time setting Erak free. I'm sure he's an impatient prisoner.'

A smile touched the huge Skandian's battered face. 'We might be doing his jailers a favour when all is said and done,' he replied. Will grinned and turned, finally, to Halt.

When the moment came, there was nothing either of them could say and he embraced the grey-bearded Ranger fiercely. Finally he found his voice.

'I'll be back, Halt. With Tug.'

'Make sure you are.'

Will thought there had been a break in Halt's voice but then decided he must have been mistaken. Halt? Grim, unsmiling, unemotional Halt? Never.

He and his mentor slapped each other's back several times – the way men do when they can't find words to express their emotions. Then he stepped back as Selethen approached. The Wakir inspected the horse and the equipment slung on it and nodded approvingly. Then he held out a rolled parchment.

'This is a map of the area, marking the wells, landmarks and also the route to Mararoc.' He hesitated. He'd spent the last fifteen minutes copying his own chart and he knew what a valuable strategic document it could be in the hands of a foreigner. 'I have your word that you'll never try to reproduce this or copy it in any way?'

Will nodded. 'My solemn word,' he said. That had been the condition under which Selethen had agreed to provide him with a chart.

'You're sure you'll be able to find your direction?' Selethen asked. Will touched his jerkin to make sure his Northseeker was secured in its inner pocket. The magnetic needle was something the Arridi knew nothing about. They navigated by the stars during the night and by a complicated set of tables that related to the sun's movement, altitude and position during daylight hours at different times of the year.

'I'll be fine. Thanks, Selethen.'

The Arridi nodded. He still felt that this was an unnecessary fuss to go to over a horse. But he realised that these Araluans felt very differently about their mounts.

'Chances are your horse would have run with the wind behind him. That means he was headed a little north or north-east.' He unrolled the map and indicated the direction. 'That should take you through the Red Hills here.' He pointed to a section of hilly terrain on the chart. 'There are two wells on the other side of the hills. Horses can smell water from a great distance. If your horse caught the scent, he could be at one of these. You should reach this one by tomorrow afternoon.'

Due to the difference in written language, landmarks such as the wells were drawn as icons on the chart. Will nodded his understanding.

'My guess is, if he found water, he'd stay close by it. If he's not there, I can't advise you what to do next,' Selethen said. Will said nothing, studying the map, then looking up from it into the empty space to the north.

'Light a fire at night. There are lions in the desert and a fire will keep them at bay. You'll know if there's one around.' He glanced at the roan horse. 'Arrow will tell you quickly enough. He's what the lion will be hunting.'

'Anything else to look out for?' Will asked.

'Sand cobras. They're deadly. They look for shade and moisture – as most living things do in the desert. They blend in with the sand and you don't know there's one around until it rears up. When that happens, you have less than two seconds before it strikes.'

'And what do I do if I'm bitten?' Will asked. Selethen shook his head slowly.

'You die,' he said.

Will raised an eyebrow. That wasn't exactly the answer he'd been looking for. He shook hands with Selethen, rolled the map up and tucked it inside his jerkin.

'Thanks, Selethen. I'll see you in a few days.' Selethen touched his hand to mouth, brow and mouth.

'I hope the god of journeys wills it so,' he said.

Will turned to the others, forced a grin and took Arrow's rein from Horace.

'Better be off,' he said with mock cheerfulness. 'Can't keep the sand cobras waiting.'

He swung easily into the saddle and turned Arrow's head to the north, trotting away from the little camp by the wadi. When he had gone a hundred metres, he turned back and immediately wished he hadn't. He felt a huge lump of sadness in his throat and breast at the sight of his friends. Evanlyn, Horace, Gilan and Svengal were all waving sadly. Halt didn't wave. He stood a little apart from the others, watching his apprentice ride away.

He'd continue to watch until well after the horse and rider had faded into the shimmering desert haze.

'Come on, Halt. Selethen says it's time we were moving.'

Gilan placed a gentle hand on the older man's shoulder. Halt had remained where he stood when Will left, staring across the heat-shimmering ground, willing his apprentice to travel safely.

He started at Gilan's words and finally turned away from his vigil. He was a little surprised, and quite touched, to see that Gilan had saddled Abelard for him. But he was still heavy-hearted as he walked to where his horse waited.

Abelard and Blaze seemed to sense Tug's absence as well, he thought. In other horses, that might have been a fanciful notion. But Ranger horses, like their riders, were a close-knit breed. And, of course, Abelard and Tug had been in each other's close company for nigh on five years. Halt sensed the restlessness in his own horse, the urge to turn towards the north where he sensed his young friend had gone. He patted the soft nose and spoke gently.

'He'll find him, boy. Never fret.'

But as he said the words, Halt wished he could believe them himself. He was worried and apprehensive for Will – in no small part because his apprentice had gone into a countryside about which he, Halt, knew little himself. Normally he would have been able to advise and counsel him of the dangers he might face. This time, he was allowing him to venture into a great unknown.

He swung into the saddle and glanced around the faces of his companions. He saw his own doubt and worry reflected there and he realised that for their sake, if nothing else, he must adopt a more positive stance.

'I don't like it any more than you do,' he told them. 'But let's look at the positive side of things. He's well armed. He's well trained. He's got a good horse. He's an excellent navigator and he has his Northseeker and Selethen's map. What can go wrong?'

Their spirits lifted a little as he listed the positives. Will was capable, intelligent and resourceful. Any one of them would trust him to come through in a crisis. All of them had, at one stage or another. There was a general lightening in their mood as the Arridi outriders clattered out of the camp.

But as he turned Abelard's head round and headed away from the direction Will had taken, Halt had a gnawing feeling that there was an element he had left out of his calculations.