'Yes. We've noticed that. There is obviously some secret to riding that horse. Unfortunately that has intrigued Hassan even more. I doubt he will give him up.'

'Then I'll buy him!' Will said.

Umar raised an eyebrow. 'With what? You had no money on you when we found you. Have you somehow obtained some in the last few hours?'

'I'll owe it to you. You have my word. I'll pay it. Name a price!' He knew he could get Evanlyn to back his promise. But again, Umar was shaking his head.

'How will you pay us? How will you ever find us again? We're nomads, Will. We don't deal in future promises. We deal in gold and silver and we deal in right now when we trade. Do you have gold or silver? No, you don't.' He answered his own question with an air of finality. Then, his tone softened a little.

'Look, our laws say that when we find a man dying of thirst in the desert, we must do everything in our power to save him. We could have just ridden by and left you to die. But our law says otherwise. By the same token, another law says that a horse found wandering becomes the finder's property. You can't take advantage of one law and deny the other.'

'This is ridiculous and embarrassing, Umar,' Cielema said angrily. 'You will speak to Hassan. You will tell him that he must return the horse to Will. You are the Aseikh. You can do this.'

Umar's lips set in a tight line. 'Don't you understand, wife, it is precisely because I am the Aseikh that I can't do this! I cannot order Hassan to ignore our laws! If I do that, how can I discipline anyone in the future for doing the same thing? For stealing? Or for injuring another? Oh, I am sorry, Aseikh, people will say, we thought it was all right to ignore our laws, as you told Hassan to do it.'

'Then you will ask him to do this,' she demanded but he shook his head again.

'I will not. I won't embarrass Hassan – or myself. I know he wants to keep this horse. He has every right to do so. I will not try to make him feel guilty about doing something he is entitled to do.'

Cielema looked away angrily, and her tense stance and folded arms spoke volumes about the fury inside her. Will felt a mounting sense of hopelessness.

'Could I speak to Hassan?' he asked, controlling the anger in his own voice, forcing himself to speak calmly. Umar considered the suggestion for a few seconds, then shrugged.

'There's no reason why not,' he said. 'But I warn you, it will do no good.'

Hassan was a young man. He couldn't have been much more than twenty years old. He had a pleasant face and a rather wispy beard that he was obviously trying to grow. His eyes were dark and humorous and in other circumstances, Will would probably have liked him.

Right now, he hated him with every fibre of his body.

The young Bedullin was grooming Tug when they found him in the horse lines. Umar and Cielema had escorted Will and as they passed through the camp, word had spread as to what was happening. Now a small crowd of onlookers followed behind them. It was noticeable that Will was now fully armed, with his saxe and throwing knife, and the massive longbow slung over his shoulder once more.

He heard one whispered comment from the people following behind him as he strode through the camp. 'I've heard the foreigner wants to fight Hassan for the horse!' someone said. And the more he thought about it, the more Will found he wasn't opposed to the idea.

Tug nickered happily when he saw Will approaching. He had recognised the sound of his master's stride. Hassan looked up from his work and smiled a welcome. He made the Arridi greeting gesture to Umar.

'Good morning, Aseikh Umar.' He looked at Will, saw the anger in the young man's face and wondered what was troubling him. 'I see the stranger has recovered. That's good.'

Tug tried to move towards his master but Hassan restrained him with a firm hand on his bridle. The little horse baulked and looked puzzled. He whinnied shrilly. The sound tore at Will's heart.

'Hassan,' Umar was saying, 'this is Will. Will, meet Hassan ib'n Talouk.'

Hassan made the polite greeting gesture again. Will responded with a stiff little bow. Once again, Hassan saw the anger and frowned, wondering what had caused it.

'You seem to have recovered, Will,' he said. 'I'm glad to see it.' He wondered what the foreigner was doing here. Hassan, after all, had not been responsible for finding him in the desert. He had only tagged along because the shaggy little horse that he had found some days previously had bolted after the Aseikh when he had ridden out to investigate the vultures. The horse must have caught some scent of his former owner, Hassan thought.

It was obvious that the little horse had formerly belonged to the young man they found close to death in the desert. But Hassan had no compunction about keeping Tug. Of course, he had no idea that was the horse's name. He had renamed him Last Light of Day, in memory of the time of day when he had found him. Finders owners was the law of the desert and Hassan and all the Bedullin had seen it exercised many times in the past. He had no reason to think that Will would dispute the fact.

He waited patiently now while the stranger worked to get control of his anger. Finally, Will said in a calm voice: 'Hassan, I would like my horse back, please.'

Hassan frowned. He looked to Umar for guidance but the Aseikh avoided his gaze. He smiled pleasantly at the stranger.

'But he's no longer your horse. He's mine.' He looked to Umar again. 'Have you not explained the law, Aseikh?'

Umar shifted uncomfortably. 'I have. But the stranger is a foreigner. In his land, the law is different.'

Hassan considered this information, then shrugged. 'Then I'm glad we're not in his land. Because I like this little horse.' He hesitated, seeing the unhappy expression on Umar's face. Cielema was beside him, he noticed. She was very stiff-backed and angry looking too.

'Aseikh Umar,' he said, 'do you wish me to return my horse to the stranger?'

Umar hesitated for a long moment. He knew that the young man held him in the highest regard. He idolised him, in fact. If Umar were to say that he did wish him to return the horse, Hassan would do so, out of respect for his Aseikh. And that was what stopped Umar from asking him to do so. He knew it would be using his influence unfairly. The horse was Hassan's, and Hassan was not from a wealthy family. It could be years before he could afford another horse.

'I won't ask you to do that,' he said finally, folding his arms across his chest. Cielema looked angrily at him but said nothing.

Hassan looked back to Will. 'I'm sorry,' he said. He turned away to continue with his grooming.

'I'll pay you for him!' Will said abruptly.

Hassan stopped grooming and looked back at him, 'You have gold?' he asked.

Will shook his head. 'I'll get it. I give you my word.'

Hassan smiled again. He was a polite young man and had no wish to be discourteous but the stranger simply didn't understand how things were done.

'I can't buy anything with words,' he said. He wished the stranger would stop being so pushy. But now that he was here, Hassan thought he might well find out something that had been bothering him about Last Light of Day.

'Can this horse be ridden?' he asked curiously. Every time he had tried to gain the saddle, the little grey had bucked him off. He was a mass of bruises.

Will nodded. 'I can ride him.'

Hassan led Tug forward and handed the bridle to Will. He wanted to see if it were possible.

'Show me,' he said. He watched as Will put a foot in the stirrup and swung easily into the saddle. Hassan waited a few seconds. Usually, about now, the little horse would explode into a leaping, twisting, bucking devil. But he stood calmly, ears pricked.