'The prince is not well,' he replied. 'When he did not rise this morning, I went in to wake him. I roused him with the greatest difficulty, and gave him a drink. I thought he would get up, but I went in just now to find he has fallen asleep again.'
Cait frowned. 'That is worrying.' She stooped to the entrance of the low, round tent. 'Fetch Lord Rognvald.'
The overseer hurried away, and Cait pulled back the tent flap, tied it, and stepped in. The prince was lying on his back with his head on a cushion, one arm across his chest, the other outflung. He was dressed in a loose robe, and his turban lay to one side, a small heap of winding cloth. His mouth was open, his breathing rapid and shallow.
She knelt beside him and touched her hand to his forehead-the skin was hot with fever. She took him by the shoulder and shook him gently. There was no response. She shook him again, harder this time, and called his name. The prince slept on.
She was shaking him a third time, and calling his name, when Rognvald arrived. He ducked in, regarded the sleeping prince, and said, 'Here, let us carry him outside where we can look at him properly.'
'A moment, my lord,' suggested Halhuli. He gestured to the two servants standing with him. Taking the lower edge of the tent, they unfastened the stays from the pegs and peeled back the heavy fabric, rolling it up and over the hoops. When they had finished, he ordered them to make up the fire so the prince would not grow cold.
'Open his robe,' said Cait.
Rognvald knelt beside Cait and parted the prince's robe to reveal a small red puncture in the fleshy part of the upper chest. The skin was raised and discoloured around the cut. 'He was struck by an arrow,' she said. 'I saw him brush it off.'
Rognvald pressed his fingers lightly to the wound and examined it closely. 'There was little issue of blood,' he said, sitting back on his heels. 'I have seen men endure much more and fight all the harder the next day.'
'Do you think the arrow was poisoned?' said Yngvar. He and the other knights had gathered around the stricken prince.
'Do they do such things?' wondered Cait.
'We have seen it at Bosra,' Svein assured her. 'In Horns they did this also.'
'The dogs,' spat Dag.
'Alas,' confirmed Halhuli, 'it has been known.' He placed a hand on the prince's chest. 'The skin is hot and inflamed. I think we must suspect poison.'
'The wound is not so deep,' Rognvald pointed out. 'Perhaps the poison is not of sufficient strength to kill. Could we get him back to the palace, do you think?'
Halhuli, worried, his face ashen, gazed at his lord. 'It is as Allah wills. If he is to die, then it will be. If he is to recover, then that, also, will be. Allah, the Merciful, bends all purposes to his own.'
'What do you want to do, Halhuli?' asked Cait. 'Do you want us to take him home?'
He nodded. 'I should like to try.'
'We can make a litter for him,' volunteered Yngvar.
'And drag the poor man over mountain and valley?' said Svein, outraged at the idea.
'It might be carried between two horses,' suggested Dag, 'but a sling would be better.'
'Aye,' said Svein, 'a sling would be better.' He turned up his nose at Yngvar. 'A litter! Teh!'
'Cut two stout branches,' Rognvald ordered, 'and lash them to the cantles of the saddles. We will fashion a sling.'
The knights attended to this, and the others set about striking camp. In the midst of their activity, Prince Hasan awoke. Cait turned her back on him for a moment, and when she turned around he was sitting up, taking in the bustle around him with a slightly bewildered expression. 'Are we attacked?' he asked.
'No,' replied Cait. 'You have been asleep. We could not wake you, so we are preparing to return to Al- Jelal.'
'There is no need,' replied Hasan. 'I am perfectly able to ride. We must not abandon the search on my account.'
Cait regarded him doubtfully. 'You have been wounded,' she explained. 'I do think it best to return to the palace.'
'Nonsense!' he scoffed, and made to rise.
The effort made him dizzy; he lurched forward and Caitriona caught him. 'Sit down,' she told him. 'Rest a moment.'
The prince collapsed on his bed once more. 'Ah, perhaps you are right,' he said. He closed his eyes, pressing a hand to the side of his head.
'Here, drink a little,' she said, pouring water into his horn cup; his hand shook so much as he lifted it to his mouth, that she had to steady his arm.
'Allah, the Merciful, be praised!' exclaimed Halhuli, rushing up. 'You are awake, my lord.'
'Bring me my clothes. We are going home.'
'At once, my lord,' he said, and hurried away.
Cait called for Rognvald, who returned a moment later to find Prince Hasan drawing on the clothes Halhuli held out for him. 'He tells us he feels well enough to ride,' Cait said. 'Do you think it wise?'
Rognvald squatted down and regarded the prince. 'I have no wisdom in the matter,' he answered at last. 'If a man feels he is able to ride, who can say otherwise?'
'Precisely,' agreed the prince. Indicating the wounded Paulo's tent, he said, 'Your man needs warmth and care, which he will not receive on the trail. If we leave now, we can reach the palace before dark.'
'That would be best in any case,' Rognvald conceded. 'We will make the journey as easy as possible.' He stood and called to the knights to prepare the sling for Paulo and ready the prince's horse. 'Those of us who are ready will leave at once-the rest can come after and catch up on the way.'
'No, my friend,' Hasan objected. 'Your destination is within sight. I will not allow you to abandon the search now. Halhuli and my servants will attend me. The rest of you must go on.'
Cait hesitated. While she had no great hankering to resume the search, the thought of going back to Al-Jelal only to take up the trail another day filled her with an even greater dread. 'But what if something should happen on the way?' she protested mildly.
'Listen to me, Ketmia,' the prince replied. 'At all events, we would be forced to return to the palace in a day or two for supplies. Take the provisions and go on ahead.'
'He is right,' Rognvald concluded. 'If Abu was not mistaken, we are closer now than ever before. We dare not allow this chance to slip away-we may not get another.'
'Paulo and I will rejoin you in a few days when we have rested and our wounds have healed.'
'Unless we find Alethea first,' Rognvald put in.
'Of course!' declared Hasan. 'You see? Find Alethea and bring her to the palace.'
'Very well,' Cait relented.
Thus it was agreed. The final preparations were quickly made; despite his feeble protests, Paulo was placed in the sling, and the prince, holding himself like a man who feared one false step would shatter his legs, walked to his mount. With Rognvald on one side and his faithful katib on the other, Hasan climbed into the saddle. 'I will see you in a few days,' he called as they started off. 'Farewell, my friends.'
Cait and the others watched until the prince and his entourage were out of sight. 'Do not worry, my lady,' said Yngvar, trying to comfort her. 'They will reach the palace, never fear.'
'Aye,' said Svein, 'providing they do not meet up with any of your wolves.'
The wind grew colder as the day wore on. They spent much of the morning skirting Ali Waqqar's valley lair, and stopped to break fast once they had put the valley behind them. While they were eating, it began to snow. The mountain Abu had indicated lay directly ahead-no more than a half-day's ride by their best estimation-so they pressed on.
The snow persisted through the day, drifting down through the tall pines in great, silent feathery clumps, concealing both the path and the mountain before them in a soft layer of white, and covering the heads and shoulders of the knights, and the rumps of their horses. But they rode on, climbing higher and higher into the gently swirling curtain of flakes.
Yngvar was leading the way when Cait saw him stop at the crest of the hill. She lifted the reins and urged her
