The Nomad by Simon Hawke Page A

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