‘Back up!’ said the captain, waving at his men. ‘Get away from the Mogyrk camp!’
‘Don’t move!’ the duke called out. ‘I will kill you before you take a step.’ He took a breath and Farid could see that he was trembling. ‘I want only to make a fair trade.’
‘All they have is that circle!’ shouted Arigu. ‘Just some easy tricks! There are not so many of them – we can—’ He stopped when a blade was put to his neck.
‘See how brave he is when he stands outside my work,’ said the duke. A push, and the general stumbled forwards, landing beside the captain. ‘There you are. It is good to be rid of him. I trade you a man for a man.’
Ziggur gave a respectful nod to the general before turning back to the Fryth leader. ‘And the help you offered, Duke?’
Didryk gestured at Farid. ‘You brought a mage with you. He will stay with me.’
Farid stared, anticipation and dread together rushing over his skin. Everyone watched him, waiting and so he took a step forwards, but General Arigu held out an arm to stop him.
‘Do you think we will leave our mage with you? No. You will come with us.’
To Farid’s surprise Duke Didryk barely considered the proposal before giving his assent. ‘Very well – but give me the night. In the morning we will go to the city. I will not harm you if you leave the circle now, but try no tricks, for I warn you, our camp is well-protected.’
Arigu turned upon the duke. Farid could see violence in the shape of the general’s shoulders, the tightness of his fists, and it struck Farid how little more than a knife-edge separated blood from comfortable discourse. ‘You negotiate with me now, Duke. And we leave tonight.’
The captain lowered his voice. ‘But General, my orders—’
Arigu took the man by the shoulders and dragged him aside, hissing, ‘You want to trust these men? You think to rest your bones by a comfortable fire, roast some meat, toast the emperor, heaven and stars protect him, and have a good night’s sleep?’ Arigu pointed at the mage. ‘This man is your enemy. The other one, the one you let go, slit at least twelve of my best men’s throats while they slept – men better than you, Blue Shield. We leave tonight.’ With that he pushed the captain aside.
Ziggur rubbed at his beard, the cheeks above them bright red. ‘We leave tonight, Duke Didryk,’ he called out, but he was no longer in charge, and the duke was already bowing to Arigu, his former captive. ‘Allow me to gather my things, General.’ His eyes were calculating all the new possibilities.
‘Do not take too long, Duke,’ said Arigu, ‘or I will come and find you.’
‘You may try. There are wards.’ The duke backed away. ‘Give me two hours.’
‘You have nothing left to bargain with, remember,’ said Arigu. ‘Be fast, now.’
Didryk disappeared behind his men.
Arigu motioned to a group of soldiers. ‘Go around to the back of the camp. Make sure he doesn’t leave us here holding our pricks.’
At Arigu’s command the Blue Shields galloped off through the sand. Ziggur stood rubbing his neck, looking a fool. Arigu ignored him and turned to Farid instead. They were of a height, but Arigu outweighed him; his shoulders were wider, his legs thicker. ‘What’s your magic? I mean to capture the horse chief. Earth or air would be helpful.’
‘I have no magic.’
‘They sent me a decrepit captain and a mage with no talent.’ Arigu rubbed his beard and looked in the direction of Nooria. ‘I see. Our emperor, heaven bless him, has made a mistake.’
Farid looked wide-eyed at the man’s treasonous words, but Arigu had already turned away from him. ‘Where is the best horse?’ he asked Ziggur. ‘I want the best horse you have.’ Ziggur indicated his own, and Arigu took a moment to remove the captain’s things before mounting. ‘I will return to the palace when I have caught that lame bastard,’ he snarled, and with that, he kicked the horse and was gone.
Farid glanced at Ziggur before moving off to examine the pattern-marks. The duke had laid three concentric patterns on the sand, reds and yellows and blues glimmering under the sun. He followed the lines of them, walking the perimeter three times, one for each pattern. The inner two he could not fathom, but he shivered to look at the third. He did not understand the marks and he could not get a sense of their arrangement – the area being so large – but he knew it was there to cause harm. At intervals he crouched down and memorised what he could.
‘Let’s go!’ shouted Ziggur, and Farid looked around to see the duke, dressed as before, except now with a satchel slung over one shoulder. He did not imagine mages required many possessions, their riches being of another kind, but this man was also a duke; he would have expected more in the way of baggage. Didryk whistled, and a fine grey horse, his coat gleaming, appeared, bearing a silver-trimmed saddle. Farid knew little of horses, but even so he could see this one spoke eloquently of the duke’s station. His sense of social order satisfied, he found his own horse around the curve of a nearby dune. It took a few minutes to coax her into letting him mount, as awkward a rider as he was, and he guided her back to the column. With a shock, he found the duke was waiting for him, flanked by two guardsmen.