hood and cast her into the wind.
Vallon was too appalled to speak. Hero clutched his face. ‘What’s got into you?’
‘What’s got into me? I brought the falcon two thousand miles for the Emir to fly at cranes. First he orders me to take on an impossible slip then, when I’m in the ideal situation, he forbids me to slip at all.’
Suleyman might have struck him down on the spot if his attendants hadn’t drawn his attention to the gyrfalcon. She was climbing up on her tail, making height at a tremendous rate. She’d closed the gap by half before the crane noticed the threat and quickened its pace. The falcon kept going, levelling off in order to power ahead of her quarry and cut it off from cover. Wayland spurred his horse after them. The falcon made its point and eased off, waiting for the crane’s next move. Although the quarry still had several hundred feet advantage, the falcon had gained enough height to command the airspace below, whether the crane flew upwind or down. It took the only route left open and began to ring up like a feather trapped in a thermal. The falcon followed, buffering up in steps, sometimes taking the opposite direction from its quarry. Already they were so high that Wayland had to tilt his head back to keep them in view. Up and up, the falcon scintillating in the golden light. Wayland’s neck ached from the effort of keeping them in sight. The crane was no bigger than a bee pestered by a fly. Wayland blinked to clear his vision because soon a blink would be long enough to lose them. The bee shrank to the size of a fly; the fly became a gnat. The gnat disappeared, leaving only one tiny speck in the sky. Then nothing. Wayland’s eyes were so sharp that he could spot a pigeon a mile away, yet the two birds had simply vanished into space.
The spectators waited, rubbing their necks. Most flights ended downwind of the slip, but nobody moved. Dusk began to hood the earth and pleats of violet shadow ran up the mountains.
Vallon rode over. ‘Do you think she took it?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Pray God she does. A kill is your only chance of escaping punishment. I’ll plead for leniency, but I doubt if my words will carry much weight. What possessed you to defy the Emir?’
Wayland couldn’t answer. Turning away he saw Syth’s frightened face.
‘The Emir’s going to punish you, isn’t he?’
‘Not if the falcon takes the crane.’
‘If she doesn’t, he might kill you.’
‘Syth-’
‘Didn’t you stop to think what will happen to me — to our child?’
A Seljuk shouted. Wayland’s gaze whipped up, bright with hope. He saw the falcon falling … falling … falling. Stooping so fast that she seemed to descend in a series of flickers. Five hundred feet above the plateau her teardrop shape threw up in a tearing arc. She swung into the wind and rested on the rushing air. Suleyman’s men groaned and Wayland covered his face. It was over. The crane had outflown the falcon and he would suffer the consequences.
Ibrahim galloped up, grabbed Wayland’s reins and dragged him away. ‘Call her down.’
Wayland swung his lure. The falcon ignored it. She rode the wind, her wings curved back in a bow. She was still full of flying, waiting for fresh quarry to be flushed.
Ibrahim threw out a live pigeon on a line. At the second throw, the falcon flicked over. Wayland blinked. She was heading in the wrong direction, driving towards the setting sun.
‘She’s after something.’
For a moment he thought she’d spotted the crane. Only for a moment. She was chasing a pigeon. It had such a huge lead that if he’d been flying any other falcon, he would have groaned in dismay at her vain pursuit. But she wasn’t any other falcon and he concentrated on keeping her in sight. The pigeon flew towards the setting sun. Wayland shielded his eyes and saw it graze the fiery disc. The falcon flew straight into it. The glare burned the back of his eyeballs. He dashed tears away. When he picked the falcon up again, she was only a short distance behind the pigeon, reeling it in as if it were tethered. The pigeon went into a dive. The falcon lifted before powering after it. The two specks merged into one and then the sky emptied. Wayland marked the spot where they’d disappeared. Over the marshes fringing Salt Lake.
He turned to Ibrahim. ‘She took it.’
Riders were lashing towards them. ‘Find her,’ Ibrahim ordered. ‘No, wait.’
The nearest riders were only yards away when Wayland spurred his horse towards the lake. Ibrahim was trying to win him a reprieve. If he recovered the falcon, he was to wait until well after dark before returning to the encampment. Ibrahim would use the time to speak on his behalf. He’d tell Suleyman that Wayland had misunderstood the Emir’s commands. He’d explain that the falcon was so fired up that she’d broken loose.
The flight had ended more than a mile away and Wayland knew there was little chance of recovering the falcon before dark. The sun smouldered on the horizon and the falcon could have landed anywhere in the briny wastes. She might have carried her prey right across the lake.
Hooves clattered behind him and two riders drew level. One of them was Syth, the other Walter. He swiped a hand into Wayland’s face.
‘Base wretch! You’ve made Suleyman a laughing stock. There’s no saving you now. I’ve a good mind to cut off your head myself. I’ll plead with him for the privilege.’
Wayland rode on pell-mell. He reached the marsh stretching into the lake and pulled up. The sun was already halfway below the horizon and the wind cut like a knife. He studied the landscape. Over to his right and about quarter of a mile into the marsh, an eagle quartered the reeds, sometimes rowing back in a clumsy hover. It must have seen the falcon land with her prey and was searching for her. He cantered towards the spot. His mare splashed across a salt pan and stumbled as she broke through the crust. He slowed to a walk, his attention fixed on the area where he’d seen the eagle. Thousands of islets dotted the pools and creeks. He dismounted and led his horse, listening for the sound of bells above the swishing of the reeds. A hundred yards further on the water rose above his mare’s knees. She dapped a foot at the surface and refused to go any further.
‘You’ll never find her in there,’ said Walter.
Wayland handed the reins to Syth. ‘I’ll go on by foot.’ He took a few steps then hesitated. He looked back at Walter. ‘The falcon isn’t far away. Help me search for her.’
Walter flushed in anger. ‘Who do you think you’re speaking to? I’m not going into the marsh.’
‘I’ll come,’ Syth said. ‘I’m light of foot and I grew up in the fens.’
Wayland kept his gaze fixed on Walter. ‘I have something important to tell you.’
Walter frowned. ‘Concerning Drogo and Vallon?’
‘Concerning murder.’
Walter looked back, one side of his face burnished by the last rays of the sun. Suleyman and an escort of about thirty men were galloping towards them. Alongside rode Vallon and Drogo.
‘I knew it. Tell me how they intend to do the deed.’
‘Not here. Suleyman will reach us before I can explain.’
‘What’s this talk of murder?’ Syth said. ‘Why are you acting so strange?’
Wayland touched her wrist. ‘Wait until I return.’
The Seljuks were close. The last segment of sun had sunk, leaving a flaming band on the horizon and dimming fire on the twin peaks. Wisps of charcoal cloud floated high in a sky of purple and saffron. Wayland entered the marsh, wading through brine, pushing through reeds. Walter followed, labouring in his armour.
‘Out with it then,’ he panted. ‘If I can turn the knowledge to my advantage, I’ll intercede for you with Suleyman.’
‘Let’s recover the falcon first.’
Walter gripped his arm. ‘If I save you, you’ll be my loyal slave.’
Wayland hurried on. The reeds grew so tall that only the light draining in the west told him what direction he was taking. Every few yards he stopped, listening for the sound of the falcon’s bells. It was hopeless. Suleyman’s entire army could search all day for the falcon and never find her. She would have dragged the pigeon into cover when she saw the eagle. Even if he passed within five yards, he’d probably miss her. Falcons froze on their kill if anyone approached.
He came to what looked like a shallow pool furred with weeds. Something warned him off crossing it. He skirted it, only to run into another. And another. His course was so erratic that he no longer knew where the eagle had been hunting. He was trying to find a way between bogs and he’d have only the stars to show him the way back.
