another dismal day in the saddle. So empty. So hopeless. And, like the revenge she sought, so endlessly, abysmally pointless.
Out on the winter trail with a fretful wind swirling about her shivering shoulders, grief enwrapped her in its cold clutch and squeezed her hard. Where before she had been able to ease her sorrow and remorse with the assurance that the reward was worth the cost, in the pale light of yet another dreary dawn that assurance foundered. Like a pack horse forced to carry a crushing burden far too long, her confidence collapsed, never to rise again.
It was all she could do to stifle the scream of desperation she felt rising up in her throat. She lashed her horse to a plodding trot and rode out ahead of the others so that they could not see the tears of frustration sliding down her frozen cheeks.
They spent the morning fighting a wet and gusty wind which threatened to sweep them off the trail. By the time they gained the top of the ridge and began their descent, Cait had determined to abandon the search for the Holy Cup. Her ill-advised pursuit of the relic had so far brought nothing but death and misery. It was time-and long past time-to renounce her ambition.
While sojourning in Hasan's palace, she had been able to hold off the decision she had known all along was coming. Now, as she sat freezing in the saddle, all she wanted was to win her sister's freedom, and return to Bilbao and her waiting ship while she, and those with her, still had life and breath to do so.
De Bracineaux would win; he had killed her father, and he would gain the Mystic Rose, too. There was nothing she could do about that. She would walk away empty-handed, but at least, she told herself, she would still be alive. That would have to be enough.
In a little while, they came to a wide place halfway along the downward trail. Here, sheltered by the ridge wall behind them, they stopped to rest and warm themselves. The riders dismounted and the prince summoned Cait and Rognvald to join him.
'I do not see any settlements,' Cait informed him glumly, gazing down into the pinched ravine of a valley-little more than a deep, crinkled gash with a rock-filled stream at the bottom.
'No,' Hasan said, 'there are neither settlements nor holdings in this wilderness. The land is not good for farming.'
'Then where will we find the bandits?'
'The hillsides below are seamed with a great many caves,' Prince Hasan told them. 'This is where Ali Waqqar hides. As to that, I think it would be best if you and your men were to wait here and allow me to go on ahead alone.'
Rognvald frowned, and Cait shook her head.
'Please, Ketmia, what I propose is wisdom itself. Ali and I have had dealings in the past, you see. If I go to him alone, he will allow me to come near and speak to him. Surprise him with an army, however, and he could easily disappear into his labyrinth of caves where we could never find him.'
Cait resisted the idea. Alethea and Abu were somewhere down there and she meant to get them out.
'Truly, it is for the best,' insisted Hasan.
'Oh, very well!' She nearly screamed with exasperation. 'Go on then!'
'Yngvar, Svein and the others will wait here with you,' Rognvald told her. 'But I will go with the prince.' He turned to regard Hasan with quietly stubborn defiance.
Seeing the knight was adamant, the prince reluctantly agreed and commanded Halhuli to find a turban for Rognvald and exchange cloaks with him. As soon as Rognvald was suitably disguised, they remounted and Hasan cautioned the tall knight to sit low in the saddle and avoid drawing attention to himself. 'Pray that Ali Waqqar is of a mood to receive visitors today,' he said, then raised his hand in farewell.
Cait watched the riders disappearing down the side of the hill and changed her mind. Crossing quickly to her mount, she climbed into the saddle, and was off before anyone could stop her. Dag and Rodrigo ran a few steps and called for her to come back, but she ignored them and rode on. The riders heard the commotion, turned, saw Cait, and halted on the trail.
'Say what you like, I will not go back,' she told them in a tone suggesting that Heaven and earth could pass away long before she would be persuaded. 'I have not come this far to stand aside and wait.'
'Yu'allah,' sighed Hasan; he glanced at Rognvald, who made no move to intervene, then relented. 'So be it.'
'Whatever happens, stay close to me, my lady,' Rognvald instructed. 'Keep your blade ready to hand.'
'See you keep your head covered with the hood of your cloak,' added Hasan. 'It may be they will think you are Danji, and take no notice.'
Having won her way, Cait became compliant; she did as she was told and fell in behind Lord Rognvald. They moved on, reaching the floor of the valley a short time later, where Cait saw that it was as Hasan had said; as she gazed at the broken, boulder-strewn slopes all around she could see the entrances of small caves as dark holes in the sides of the hills.
Leaving the ridge trail, they rode out into the narrow valley, passing among fallen rocks the size of houses. Hasan found his way to the stream and they followed the path beside it. Owing to the high, protecting walls on every side, the air was calm and silent on the valley floor; the only sound to be heard was the rippling splash of the water as it coursed along its stony bed. In a little while, it became clear that the prince knew exactly where he was going.
They came to a place where the stream pooled as it passed around the base of an enormous, mound-like boulder, providing a good fording place. They paused to allow the horses to drink, then crossed the stream and turned towards the towering eastern slope. A few hundred paces from the ford a great stone slab lay like a toppled pillar on its side; the trail passed between two of the shattered sections. They rode through a gap wide enough for horses to go two abreast and continued on towards the slope, picking their way among the chunks of stone fallen from the heights which lay scattered over the rising ground, and in a little while arrived at the entrance to a cave.
Potsherds and the droppings of sheep and horses covered the flat area at the base of the slope which served the cave as a yard. Aside from that, and a faint whiff of smoke adrift in the still air, there was no sign that anyone had ever been near the place. Rognvald halted a little way off, and Cait behind him; Hasan rode to the cave entrance and shouted, 'Ali Waqqar!'
He waited a moment and shouted again, adding a few words in Arabic. The call had scarcely died in the air when a figure emerged out of the darkness of the cave mouth. The man was a dark-skinned Moor, shabbily dressed, his clothes stiff with grease and dirt, his beard matted and long, his hair unkempt. His fat belly hung over his drooping belt, and the sleeves of his cloak flapped in rags about his hands as he stared warily out at the three visitors.
He spat into the dirt at his feet before making bold to answer. Prince Hasan addressed the man sharply, and to Cait's surprise the burly fellow straightened and made a curt bow. Hasan spoke again, whereupon the man disappeared.
'He is one of Ali's men,' Hasan explained. 'He is meant to be on watch, but -' he lifted a hand equivocally, 'you can see how it is.'
'Is Thea here? Did you ask if -' Cait began, but the prince cut her off.
'Hush, Ketmia,' he warned quietly. 'All in good time.'
They waited in silence for the guard to return. When he did, it was with three other men, one of whom, taller than the others, appeared slightly better dressed and reasonably more alert. He bowed and addressed the prince politely, moving out from the mouth of the cave for a closer look at the visitors. Prince Hasan spoke to him the while, raising his voice in demand when the guard appeared to take an interest in the two accompanying the prince. A few paces from Cait, he swung around sharply and moved to Hasan's side, offered another bow and hurried into the cave once more, leaving the others behind to stare dully at the visitors until their leader returned; appearing at the cavern entrance, he motioned the newcomers to follow him.
'The danger is past,' said Hasan, visibly relieved. 'It appears Ali Waqqar will be pleased to receive us in his lair. Do you wish to accompany me, or would you rather wait here?'
'We will attend,' said Rognvald.
'Very well.' Prince Hasan swung down from the saddle. 'Follow me. But see you keep your wits about you.'
