“This man felt compassion,” Sorak said. “He stopped to give aid to a wounded stranger, and he is going with us to Ryana’s rescue with no thought of any gain.”
“No thought of payment in money, perhaps,” the Guardian replied, “but you do not yet know that he does not think of gain.”
“You think he wants something from me?”
“Few people act unselfishly,” the Guardian said. “Most do not undertake risks without some thought of benefit to themselves. I do not like this Valsavis, and the rest of tribe senses an aura of danger about him.”
“I will remain on my guard, then,” Sorak said. “But Ryana’s safety is foremost in my mind.”
“As it is in ours,” the Guardian assured. “We all know what she means to you. And most of us have come to care for her, in our own way. But this man has appeared very conveniently, and in a very timely manner.
Where did he come from? What was he doing traveling alone in so remote an area?”
“Perhaps, as we were, he was bound for the village of Salt View,” said Sorak. “It seems a logical destination.
And he chose a roundabout course, as we did, to avoid marauders.”
“If that is so, then why does he pursue them with you now, when there is no personal stake in it for him?”
“It is possible that he was earnest in his explanation,” Sorak said. “Perhaps he craves adventure. He is a fighter, and obviously, he has been a mercenary. Such men are often different.”
“That may be so,” the Guardian countered, “but all my instincts say this man is not what he appears to be.”
“If he means to play us false,” said Sorak, “then he will discover that I am much more than I appear to be, as well.”
“Do not allow your confidence to blind you, Sorak,” said the Guardian. “Remember, though we are strong, we are not invulnerable. We took an arrow in the back that could easily have killed us, and not even the Watcher saw it coming.”
“I have not forgotten,” Sorak said. “From now on, I will watch my back more carefully.”
“See that you do not leave Valsavis there,” she said.
“I will remember,” Sorak said.
The terrain they traversed was difficult, but Sorak was sure they were moving faster than the marauders. He rode behind Valsavis on his kank, watching the trail ahead, noticing that the old mercenary was picking up every detail of the spoor. By late afternoon, they were approaching the pass midway through the mountain range.
“They will doubtless stop to camp soon,” said Valsavis.
“In the canyon?” Sorak asked.
“Perhaps,” Valsavis replied, “but I would not if I were in their place. I would seek higher ground, the better to avoid surprises.”
“You think they suspect we may be on their trail?”
“I doubt it,” said Valsavis. “They are traveling at an easy pace. They most likely think they left you dead back there, and they can know nothing about me. Unless we are very clumsy, we will have the advantage of surprise.”
“I am very much looking forward to surprising them,” said Sorak grimly.
“We shall have to move quickly,” said Valsavis.
“They will not hesitate to use your friend as a hostage. Meanwhile, you need to consider what you want to do if that should come to pass.”
“They must not be allowed to reach their camp,” said Sorak. “Once we make our move, we must commit ourselves. There can be no retreat.”
“And what of your companion?”
“I know that she would not wish me to hesitate on her account,” said Sorak.
“Suppose they put a knife to her throat when we attack? What then?” Valsavis asked.
“Then I will try to save her if I can,” Sorak replied. “But she would not wish me to surrender or withdraw. And they would find that killing her may not prove as easy as they think.”
“She sounds like an unusual woman,” said Valsavis. “She is villichi.”
“Indeed?” said Valsavis. “I met a villichi priestess once ... a long, long time ago. And if she was a typical example of their order, then I am surprised your friend allowed herself to be taken without a struggle.”
“She was exhausted from our journey,” Sorak said, “and no doubt she fell asleep. If she had not been taken by surprise, she would have left bodies littering the ground.”
Valsavis did not fail to note the elfling’s vehemence. “She is more to you than just a traveling companion, is she not?”
“She is my friend,” Sorak replied in a tone that did not invite further questions.
Valsavis chose not to press the issue. He had already learned what he wanted to know. The elfling cared about the priestess. And more than merely as a friend. That was good to know, he thought. It could come in very useful.
They reached the canyon by late afternoon and could tell by the trail that the marauders were not far ahead. They scouted the canyon carefully from the ridge before venturing down the slope. The marauders had descended to the canyon floor, near the entrance where the foothills sloped up to meet the mountains. Sorak thought it ironic that they had taken an extra day in their trek across the plain just to avoid the canyon pass, and now he had doubled back toil.
He cursed himself for leaving Ryana alone. He had not expected to encounter marauders so far from their camp, but he should have realized how tired she was and that it would be impossible for her not to fall asleep. How much trouble would it have been to let her sleep awhile and recover some strength before he allowed the Ranger to go hunting? He blamed himself for this, and if anything happened to Ryana, he did not know how he would be able to go on.
Toward evening, they finally caught up with the marauders. They had made camp on a trail winding through the lower foothills, one they had obviously used many times before. The clearing showed signs of having been used as a campsite before. Sorak saw that it was not a raiding party, but a hunting party. Sorak observed several of the kanks bearing the beasts they had slain. He and Valsavis had smelled the smoke of the marauders’ campfire long before they saw them. The marauders were taking no trouble to conceal their presence. This was their territory, and they were confident in the security of numbers.
Valsavis had been exactly right. There were nine of them. They had not even taken the trouble to post guards. They were all grouped together around the campfire, laughing boisterously and cooking their supper. Passing around a wineskin, they seemed well pleased with themselves.
And why shouldn’t they be, thought Sorak as he and Valsavis watched the marauders from the shelter of some bushes. They had not only enjoyed a successful hunt, but had stumbled upon an unexpected prize, as well.
Ryana sat nearby, leaning back against a boulder. Her hands were tied behind her, and her arms were bound tightly to her sides by a rope around her chest. Her feet were tied, as well, at the ankles and the knees. She could barely move at all, and the position she was in had to be excruciatingly uncomfortable. Sorak could not tell if she was hurt or not. She was not moving.
“We are going to have to get in closer,” he said, softly.
“Not yet,” Valsavis said, putting a restraining hand on his chest. “Your priestess is safe, for the moment. The marauders will not harm her.
She will fetch a high price at a slave auction, and the bidders do not like damaged goods. Let these carrion eat and drink their fill. A man does not move as quickly when his belly is full.”
Sorak nodded in agreement. “Your advice is sound,” he said. “They will be more vulnerable after they have bedded down for the night.”
“Especially if they continue to drink like that,” Valsavis said. “This may be a great deal easier than we had thought. Pity.”
“Pity?” Sorak said with surprise. Valsavis shrugged. “There is no challenge in slitting the throats of sleeping drunks.”
“I am not interested in challenge, but in Ryana’s safety,” Sorak replied.