Erak's Ransom (23 page)

The smile disappeared. He jerked his head at Yusal and the two of them turned. Then the Tualaghi leader, struck by a thought, stopped and turned back. He held up his left hand as if asking for their attention and moved back towards them.
'There was one more thing,' he said. Then he spat an order to his guards and two of them gripped Halt by the arms, forcing him forward and down until he was on his knees in front of Yusal. The Tualaghi
Aseikh
then rained closed-fist blows on Halt's face, left and right, striking again and again until the Ranger's face was cut and bleeding and his head lolled to one side. Toshak watched, amused. Erak started to move forward to intervene but the point of a sabre in his belly stopped him. Finally, Yusal stepped back, breathing heavily.
'Let him go,' he told the men holding Halt. They released him and he crumpled to the sand, face down and semi-conscious.
'Not so light on your feet now, are you?' Toshak said to the slumped figure. Yusal uttered a short bark of laughter and together they turned and left the room. The guards, hands on their weapons, backed out after them, slamming the door. In the ensuing silence, the prisoners heard the key rattle in the lock.
Gilan let go a deep, pent-up breath and moved quickly to kneel beside his semi-conscious friend. Gently, he rolled Halt over and began cleaning the mixture of sand and blood from his face. Evanlyn joined him, her hands light and delicate.
Horace brought over the water skin that had been left with them and handed it to Evanlyn. He watched as she gently washed Halt's face. Horace was worried. He had never seen Halt defeated before. Halt was always in control of the situation. Halt always knew what to do next.
'I think we're in big trouble,' he said. Then they all started as Halt moved, raising his hand and trying to sit up. Evanlyn held him down and he stopped his efforts. But he spoke, his voice thick and somewhat slurred by his swollen mouth and face.
'They're forgetting one thing,' he said. There was a light of defiance in his one good eye. The other was now completely closed.
The others all exchanged a glance. They could see no positive side to their predicament.
'And what might that be, Halt?' Evanlyn asked him, willing to humour him.
Halt caught the tone in her voice and glared at her. Then he said, with some force:
'Will's still out there somewhere.'

The first light of the sun was striking the white-painted houses of Maashava when Will and Umar finally reached a vantage point above the town.
They had climbed for several hours in the pre-dawn dimness, following narrow animal tracks to one side of the township, then angling back until they emerged fifty metres above it, with a perfect view of the comings and goings of the townspeople.
Now they surveyed the town. A low wall ran around three sides. The fourth was protected by the cliffs themselves. There were watch towers raised at intervals along the wall but there was no sign of any sentries. Will remarked on the fact and Umar shook his head contemptuously.
'The townspeople are too lazy to mount guards and the Tualaghi believe there's no enemy within hundreds of kilometres.'
Smoke from cooking fires was rising from many points around the town. Mixed with the acrid woodsmoke was another aroma that set Will's tastebuds alight. Fresh coffee ,was being brewed in kitchens throughout the town. Men and women were beginning to stream out of the town, heading down the winding road to the flatlands below, or to terraced fields on the mountain side itself. Will pointed to them and raised his eyebrows.
'Field workers,' Umar said in response to the unspoken question. 'They grow maize and wheat on the flatlands, and fruit and some vegetables in the terraces.'
There was no shortage of water in Maashava. A series of wells tapped into an underground stream that ran through the mountains. Some of this was piped to the terraces, some all the way down to the fields. It was a complex irrigation and cultivation system and Will had seen nothing like it in his time in the dry, and country.
'Who built all this?' he asked.
Umar shrugged. 'No one knows. The terraces and aqueducts are hundreds, maybe thousands of years old. The Arridi found them and restored the town.'
'Well, in any event, they give us an opportunity,' Will said. Umar glanced at him and he continued. 'With all those workers moving in and out each day, we can infiltrate some of your men into the town. I figure if they go in in ones and twos, we could get up to fifty men in over the course of a day.'
'And then what?' Umar asked.
'They could make contact with the townspeople and hide among them. Surely the people of Maashava will welcome anyone who wants to get rid of the Tualaghi once and for all?'
Umar looked doubtful. 'Not my men,' he said. 'They'd stand out as outsiders. The locals wouldn't trust them. They'd be just as likely to betray them to the Tualaghi.'
'But why?' Will's voice rose a little in his frustration at the answer and Umar made urgent gestures for him to keep his voice down. Sound carried a long way in the mountains. 'Sorry,' Will continued, 'but why would they betray you? You're all the same nationality, aren't you?'
The Bedullin shook his head. 'We may live in the same country, but we're different tribes. We are Bedullin. They are Arridi. Our accents are different, so are our customs. In general, Bedullin don't trust Arridi and the Arridi reciprocate. My men would be recognised as Bedullin as soon as they spoke.'
'That's ridiculous,' Will growled. The thought that people could be divided by such minor differences was an affront to intelligent behaviour, he thought.
Umar shrugged. 'Ridiculous maybe. But a fact.'
Will stared at the town below, watching as more people moved out into the street. He gnawed thoughtfully on his thumb.
'But you sent a man in there last night?' he said.
Umar nodded. One of the Bedullin scouts had slipped over the wall after dark. He'd leave again that night and report on what he had heard in the town.
'One man. It's easy for one man to go unnoticed, particularly as he didn't have to speak, merely listen. But we'd never hope to get fifty men in there without someone noticing the different accent.' He decided it was time to change the subject and pointed to one of the openings in the cliff face, at the rear of the township. Unlike others of its kind, where the doors had been thrown wide open to receive the fresh morning air, this one remained closed and barred, and a dozen Tualaghi warriors lounged around it.
That storeroom must be where they're holding your friends.'
Will held his hands up to his eyes, shrouding them to focus his attention as he peered at the strongly defended door.
'I'd say you're right.' He thought for a few minutes. 'Wonder if there's any way we could break them out.'
Umar shook his head. 'Even if you got to the storeroom undetected, with enough men to overpower the guards, you'd be seen and heard. Then you'd have to fight your way out through the town again.'
Will's eyes went upwards to the sheer cliffs towering behind the town.
'What about coming in from above? And going out the same way?'
Umar considered the idea. 'Might work. But you'd need ropes. Lots of ropes. And we don't have them,' he concluded.
Will nodded. 'Best way then is to be waiting for them to bring Halt and the others out of that prison,' he said, almost to himself.
'There's only one reason I can think of that they might do that,' Umar said. 'That's if they were going to execute them.'
Will looked at him for several seconds before speaking. 'Well, that's a
big
comfort,' he said.
Yusal had appropriated the largest and most comfortable house in the town for his own use. It was the home of the town headman and Yusal also forced the town elder and his family to wait on him and his bodyguard. The man and his wife were terrified of the veiled nomad leader and Yusal enjoyed the fact. He liked striking fear into other people's hearts. And he enjoyed belittling people like the headman and his wife, destroying their dignity and authority by forcing them to perform menial servants' duties for him. Yusal sprawled at ease on a pile of thick cushions in the main room of the house.
The headman had just moved through, lighting oil lamps and candles against the gathering dusk. Yusal insisted on having two or three times as many of each as was necessary. Oil and candles were expensive and hard to come by in a town like this. He liked seeing the dismay on the old man's face as they were used in such a profligate manner. In a few weeks, Yusal would use up three months' supply. But it was of no concern to the Tualaghi leader. When the oil and candles and food ran out, he'd move on.
The woman entered to serve him coffee. As he demanded, she went down on her knees to offer him the cup. He took it from her, then glared at her until she lowered her eyes. Then he raised the blue veil that covered his mouth and tasted the coffee. Using the sole of his foot, he shoved her away, sending her sprawling on the mud floor.
'Too weak,' he said.
Face averted, the woman crawled on her hands and knees from the room. She had quickly learned not to look at the Tualaghi war leader's face when he raised the blue veil to eat or drink. The first time she had been slow to avert her eyes, he had had her savagely whipped.
In fact, there was nothing wrong with the coffee. The headman's wife was an excellent cook and all Arridi women learned to make good coffee as children. But it gave him an excuse to reassert his authority and Yusal enjoyed that.
His good humour evaporated as the main door of the house opened to admit Toshak.
By rights, the ill-mannered Northman should wait until he was announced and then admitted to the
Aseikh's
presence. Yusal glared at him now, hastily replacing the veil across his mouth and nose.
'You should wait,' he said. 'You should be announced and you should await permission to enter.'
Toshak shrugged carelessly. 'I'll remember that,' he said in an off-handed manner that told Yusal he didn't care a fig about it. 'Tell me,' he added curiously, 'do you ever take that veil off?'
He'd seen the quick movement as he entered. He wondered about the blue veil that the Tualaghi wore. Yusal was the only one who never seemed to remove his.
'Yes,' Yusal replied flatly, in a tone that told Toshak there would be no further discussion. In fact, there was no concrete reason why Yusal wore the veil all the time. Some believed that his face was horribly disfigured, others that it was not the face of a human. He kept the veil on to keep the rumours and the uncertainty alive. It added to the aura of power and mystery that helped keep people in fear of him.
Toshak dismissed the subject, realising Yusal wasn't going to discuss it any further. He took a small object from inside his vest and tossed it to the
Aseikh.
'Look what I've got,' he said. 'I left a few men behind to search the foreigners' camp site. They just came in with this.'
Yusal turned the object over in his hand. It was a small box containing the missing seal that Evanlyn had carried.
'I figured she must have had it with her and it was nowhere on her or in her belongings. That left only one possibility: she hid it before they surrendered. It was a pretty barren site so it wasn't all that hard to find.'
Beneath the veil, Yusal smiled in deep satisfaction. He decided he could forgive the northerner for his boorish manners.
'That is excellent. Well thought out,' he said.
'Now we can complete the warrant,' Toshak pointed out. 'That's sixty-six thousand reels of silver.'
Thirty-three thousand each,' the Tualaghi whispered, savouring the words and the amount. But to his surprise, Toshak shook his head.
'Sixty-six thousand for you,' he said. 'I don't want any of it. Consider it compensation.'
'Compensation? For what? What do you want me to do?' Yusal asked. He wasn't accustomed to having people hand over such massive amounts of money. But Toshak had decided it was worthwhile. He would be Oberjarl and that was worth an investment of thirty-three thousand reels.
'Forget the ransoms,' Toshak told him. 'I want all the prisoners killed.'
Yusal's eyes widened in surprise. 'All of them?' The Skandian nodded confirmation.
Yusal considered the idea. Seley el'then would be worth a lot, he thought. But nowhere near sixty-six thousand reels. And the
Wakir
had been a thorn in Yusal's side for some years. It would be a far more pleasant world without him. A replacement might not be so energetic about pursuing the Tualaghi when they raided.
Yes, he thought, a world without Seley el'then would be a better place. As for the Skandians and the young Araluan, he had no qualms there. But it would be a pity to kill the girl.
'Why the girl?' he asked. 'She'd be worth a lot in the slave markets.'
'I want them all dead because I want no loose ends,' Toshak replied. 'The girl has influential friends in Araluen and the Araluans are friends of Erak's. Slaves can escape or be on-sold and, when I'm Oberjarl, I don't want any rumours starting that I was behind Erak's disappearance. If she's dead, there's no chance of that.'
Yusal nodded thoughtfully. It made sense, he realised. The chance that the girl might one day escape and find her way back to Araluen was a slim one. But it was a chance. Better in situations like this to be sure. Besides, he thought, a mass execution would be a good lesson to the people of Maashava. Like the blue veil, it would add to Yusal's own legend and mystique.
'Very well,' he said eventually. 'But if we're going to kill them all, we might as well make an occasion of it.' Toshak shrugged.
'Do as you wish,' he said. 'Occasion or not, as long as they're all dead, I'm happy.'

'They're going to kill them — all of them?' Will asked incredulously. He and Umar were back at the Bedullin camp in a blind canyon to the north of Maashava.
Sharik, the Bedullin spy who had spent the day inside the crumbling walls of Maashava, nodded in confirmation.
'That's the word among all the Tualaghi I saw. They're announcing it to the townspeople. Making quite a big thing out of it, apparently.'
Umar pursed his lips thoughtfully. 'It's what you'd expect of Yusal,' he said. Will turned his horrified glance on the
Aseikh.
'But you said he'd rather make a profit out of them!' he said and Umar shrugged.
'Normally, yes. But perhaps this man Toshak has offered him something in return.'
Shank had also told them about the presence of a Skandian in the Tualaghi camp — a man who seemed to be on equal terms with Yusal. Will realised that it must be Toshak. Svengal had told them weeks ago in Araluen that Erak suspected Toshak was behind the betrayal. Umar continued now: 'And Yusal enjoys any opportunity to show how merciless he can be. It helps keep his victims subdued. A multiple execution here will be remembered for years. Word will spread and it will make his task easier next time he takes over a village.'
Will was thinking furiously. What could Toshak have offered the Tualaghi to convince him to give up the ransom money? There could only be one logical answer, he realised.
'He's found the warrant and Evanlyn's seal,' he said, almost to himself. Umar and Sharik regarded him curiously.
'The warrant?' Umar asked and Will explained quickly about the ransom payment they had arranged for Erak. The Bedullin leader nodded agreement.
'That could be it. An amount like that would be enough to convince Yusal.'
Will looked to Sharik again. 'Did you get any idea when they might be holding the executions?'
'On Sixday,' the spy replied. 'The usual time is between the ninth and tenth hour if it's to be a ceremonial execution.'
Sixday was the sixth day of the week. It was a nonworking day, preceding Sevenday, the day for religious observances. On Sixday, food and trade markets were set up in the town square and people relaxed and enjoyed themselves. At least, Will thought, they did when their town hadn't been invaded by a nomad raiding party.
'Then we have two days,' Will said. Then a thought struck him. 'Will they cancel the market?'
Umar shook his head. 'Not at all. The more people out and about to see the executions, the better, so far as Yusal is concerned.'
Will massaged his chin with his hand, his thoughts racing. 'That could work for us,' he said, abstractedly. 'The more people about, the easier it will be to infiltrate some of our men.'
'I told you,' Umar interrupted him. 'My men will be recognised as outsiders as soon as they speak.'
'Yours, perhaps,' Will replied. 'But aren't you forgetting we have twenty-five Arridi troops with us?' He saw understanding in Umar's eyes and hurried on, his thoughts spilling out even as they formed. 'We could pair each one with one of your men. They could mingle with the farmers bringing in their produce for the market. Some could even go in the night before. The Arridi does all the talking so the townspeople don't react to a Bedullin accent. That'd give us fifty men inside the town.'
'That could work,' Umar agreed. 'Good work, Sharik,' he said, realising that the spy was tired and there was no need to keep him from his bed. 'Go and get some food and rest now.' Then he looked to where Hassan was sitting nearby, listening intently to the discussion. 'Go, and find the Arridi lieutenant,' he ordered. 'Bring him here.'
When the idea was explained to Aloom, he agreed eagerly. The lieutenant had promised Selethen that he and his men would survive the desert, and come after him to rescue him. Now they had that opportunity being handed to them and he accepted instantly.
He was also keen to meet with Yusal again — this time with a weapon in his hand. But there was one detail that Will and Umar had overlooked. He gestured at Umar's
kheffiyeh.
'You'll need to change those,' he said. 'Your men all wear
kheffiyehs
with a yellow and white check. The Maashava people wear plain white.'
It was a good point. The Bedullin were all so accustomed to their headwear that it was easy to overlook it. Umar nodded his head several times, acknowledging the point.
'We'll make white ones,' he said. 'We can use the cloaks of the men who aren't entering the town. Plenty of white cloth there.'
'I think you should go in the night before,' Will told Aloom. 'I'll come with you. I need to look over the town and find a vantage point to shoot from. If anyone questions us, tell them to keep their mouths shut.'
'You might also suggest that they can feel free to lend a hand when the fighting starts,' Umar said dryly and Aloom shook his head in reply.
'Doubtful,' he said. 'The townspeople won't raise a finger to defend themselves. And government officials aren't popular in towns like this. Odds are they're looking forward to the execution.'
'Where do you want me?' Umar asked. He had unconsciously deferred to Will's authority in this matter. Umar was a warrior whose skill lay in fast-moving cavalry raids in open country. The business of planning a close-quarters, street-to-street engagement in a town was new to him and he sensed the young foreigner knew what he was talking about.
'You'll lead the rest of the force into the town when we give you the signal.' Will quickly sketched a rough map in the dirt with the point of his saxe. 'There's a small gully to the northern side of the town — we saw it this morning.'
He glanced up at Umar and the
Aseikh
nodded. He remembered the spot. 'We'll get your men into cover there the night before. It's only seventy metres or so from the town. We'll wait till they've brought Halt and the others out ... ' He paused and looked at Aloom for advice. 'How do they normally do that? All together or one at a time.'
'All together,' Aloom told him. 'They'll bring them out a little before the ninth hour.'
'By the way,' Will said, feeling a morbid sense of curiosity, 'how do they plan to execute them? Will they be hanged?'
Umar shook his head. 'It's not the custom here. We use the sword. Yusal will have them beheaded.'
A sick dread clutched at Will's stomach as the
Aseikh
said the words. He had a horrible image of Halt and Horace and Evanlyn kneeling before the headsman's sword. Evanlyn! His stomach churned at the thought of it. His breath came faster and he closed his eyes, trying to blot out the horror of it. What if I fail? He heard the question echoing in his mind.
What if I fail?
He felt a firm grip on his hand and opened his eyes. Umar had leaned closer to him and had placed his hand over Will's.
'We're not going to let it happen,' he said. There was a conviction in his voice that eased the sudden, horrified panic that had gripped Will. His breathing slowed and he steadied himself, nodding in gratitude to the desert warrior. Umar saw confidence returning to the young man's eyes once more and he released his hand.
'Do you have any thoughts about where you'll position yourself?' Umar asked.
Will nodded. 'I'm thinking on one of the watch towers along the north wall.'
He'd need a position with a good overview of the market square where the executions would take place. And he'd need an elevated position so that he'd have a clear shot. Yusal would probably concentrate his men in the immediate area of the execution site to stop any trouble. He wouldn't be expecting it to come from a hundred metres away.
'Good idea,' Umar agreed. He and Aloom both regarded the young man with interest. Umar had seen the accuracy of Will's shooting. Aloom had seen Halt and Gilan's skill. If the young Ranger was half as good as his companions, it would make for an interesting morning, he thought.
'You plan to shoot Yusal then?' Aloom asked. He was in fact hoping that he might get the chance to deal with the Tualaghi leader, but he realised he wouldn't be too disappointed if Yusal ended up on the wrong end of an arrow. Will chewed his bottom lip thoughtfully, staring down at the plan of the town he had sketched in the sand.
'Probably,' he said. 'My first priority will be the executioner. He's not getting anywhere near my friends. I'll want our fifty men to mingle with the crowd, as close to the execution site as possible. As soon as the executioner's down, they can keep the Tualaghi busy until Umar and his men arrive. I'll keep Halt and the others covered in case anyone else decides to try his luck as an executioner. If Yusal's still around, I might arrange to spoil his day.'
'I'll need a sign so I know when to attack,' Umar pointed out.
'One of my men is the company bugler,' Aloom replied. 'As soon as he sees Will shoot the executioner, he can sound the signal.'
'That should do it,' Will said. 'But let's cut a few corners. Keep watch on the tower. Once you see me climbing up to it, start moving your men out of the canyon. Nobody'll be watching in that direction. They'll be watching proceedings in the market square.'
'Right.' All three men realised they were staring at the rough map in the sand while their minds went over the details. It was a relatively simple plan, Will thought, and that was a good thing. Simple plans were less likely to go wrong.
Umar looked up and studied the young man's face.
'If you're going in the night before, we might need to darken your face a little,' he said. He took Will's face between finger and thumb and turned it from side to side, studying it in the moonlight. Will was tanned after his time in Arrida but his skin was nowhere near as dark as the average Bedullin. His brown hair and dark eyes would pass muster, but not his complexion.
'Maybe we can use a little
kafay
to darken your skin,' he said thoughtfully, then added, with a grin, 'It's a pity your nose isn't bigger.'
Will grinned, remembering his unintentional insult when he had regained consciousness in the desert to find Umar bent over him. Then the
Aseikh
turned to Aloom.
'You'd better brief your men, captain. I'll pick out twenty-five of my best warriors to go with them. They can start pairing off and getting to know each other tomorrow.'
Aloom started to rise, then hesitated. 'Captain?' he said. 'I'm a lieutenant.'
Umar shook his head. 'I just promoted you. You might have to throw your weight around with the townspeople. And nobody ever listens to a lieutenant.'
Aloom allowed himself a smile at that. 'Too true,' he said ruefully. 'Too true.'