He felt a firm grip on his hand and opened his eyes. Umar had leaned closer to him and had placed his hand over Will's.

'We're not going to let it happen,' he said. There was a conviction in his voice that eased the sudden, horrified panic that had gripped Will. His breathing slowed and he steadied himself, nodding in gratitude to the desert warrior. Umar saw confidence returning to the young man's eyes once more and he released his hand.

'Do you have any thoughts about where you'll position yourself?' Umar asked.

Will nodded. 'I'm thinking on one of the watch towers along the north wall.'

He'd need a position with a good overview of the market square where the executions would take place. And he'd need an elevated position so that he'd have a clear shot. Yusal would probably concentrate his men in the immediate area of the execution site to stop any trouble. He wouldn't be expecting it to come from a hundred metres away.

'Good idea,' Umar agreed. He and Aloom both regarded the young man with interest. Umar had seen the accuracy of Will's shooting. Aloom had seen Halt and Gilan's skill. If the young Ranger was half as good as his companions, it would make for an interesting morning, he thought.

'You plan to shoot Yusal then?' Aloom asked. He was in fact hoping that he might get the chance to deal with the Tualaghi leader, but he realised he wouldn't be too disappointed if Yusal ended up on the wrong end of an arrow. Will chewed his bottom lip thoughtfully, staring down at the plan of the town he had sketched in the sand.

'Probably,' he said. 'My first priority will be the executioner. He's not getting anywhere near my friends. I'll want our fifty men to mingle with the crowd, as close to the execution site as possible. As soon as the executioner's down, they can keep the Tualaghi busy until Umar and his men arrive. I'll keep Halt and the others covered in case anyone else decides to try his luck as an executioner. If Yusal's still around, I might arrange to spoil his day.'

'I'll need a sign so I know when to attack,' Umar pointed out.

'One of my men is the company bugler,' Aloom replied. 'As soon as he sees Will shoot the executioner, he can sound the signal.'

'That should do it,' Will said. 'But let's cut a few corners. Keep watch on the tower. Once you see me climbing up to it, start moving your men out of the canyon. Nobody'll be watching in that direction. They'll be watching proceedings in the market square.'

'Right.' All three men realised they were staring at the rough map in the sand while their minds went over the details. It was a relatively simple plan, Will thought, and that was a good thing. Simple plans were less likely to go wrong.

Umar looked up and studied the young man's face.

'If you're going in the night before, we might need to darken your face a little,' he said. He took Will's face between finger and thumb and turned it from side to side, studying it in the moonlight. Will was tanned after his time in Arrida but his skin was nowhere near as dark as the average Bedullin. His brown hair and dark eyes would pass muster, but not his complexion.

'Maybe we can use a little kafay to darken your skin,' he said thoughtfully, then added, with a grin, 'It's a pity your nose isn't bigger.'

Will grinned, remembering his unintentional insult when he had regained consciousness in the desert to find Umar bent over him. Then the Aseikh turned to Aloom.

'You'd better brief your men, captain. I'll pick out twenty-five of my best warriors to go with them. They can start pairing off and getting to know each other tomorrow.'

Aloom started to rise, then hesitated. 'Captain?' he said. 'I'm a lieutenant.'

Umar shook his head. 'I just promoted you. You might have to throw your weight around with the townspeople. And nobody ever listens to a lieutenant.'

Aloom allowed himself a smile at that. 'Too true,' he said ruefully. 'Too true.'

For the past day, the prisoners had been hearing the sound of hammering. Their captors were building something in the market square, they realised. Or, more accurately, their captors were forcing the Arridi townspeople to build it while they stood by and fingered their weapons. But with the large door remaining closed and locked the entire time, there was no way of knowing what was going on. The mystery was driving Gilan to distraction. Under normal circumstances, he probably wouldn't have become so obsessed by the noise. But Gilan had nothing to occupy his mind while they sat hour after hour in the old store room. So the question of what was being built loomed larger and larger with him.

'Relax,' Halt told him, for the tenth time. The young Ranger was pacing the sand floor of the cave, restless energy positively radiating from him.

'I can't relax,' he said. 'I want to know what they're up to.' He stopped beside his old mentor and looked down at him. 'Don't you sense they're up to something?' he said.

Halt shrugged. 'I'm sure they are. But since I have no way of finding out what it is, I'm not going to bother about it.'

Gilan looked around the dimly lit room for support. Erak and Svengal were sitting cross-legged, playing a complicated Skandian version of knucklebones and wagering nonexistent money.

'Doesn't it bother you two?' he asked.

Erak looked up and shrugged. 'It's probably market stalls,' he said.

Gilan shook his head in frustration. 'Probably! Is that good enough for you?'

Erak considered the question for a moment, then nodded. 'Yes,' he said simply.

Gilan spread his hands in a gesture of annoyance. 'But don't you want to know?'

'No.'

It probably was market stalls, Erak reasoned. Anyway, Erak had other uses for his brain right now. He was keeping a running total in his mind of the amounts he'd lost and won playing knucklebones with Svengal. A man needed a sharp brain for that as Svengal was not averse to forgetting the odd amount that he might have lost.

'I figure I've won seventeen thousand, three hundred crowns from you so far,' he said now to his second in command.

'True. And that goes against the seventeen thousand, two hundred crowns I've won from you,' Svengal replied instantly.

Erak frowned. 'Are you sure you've won so much?'

Svengal nodded. 'Totally sure,' he said.

Erak shrugged. Svengal was right but it had been worth asking in case he'd forgotten the four hundred crowns he'd won just as their midday meal had been delivered. No such luck, he saw now.

'So that makes two hundred you owe me,' he said innocently. He reached for the bones and became aware of Svengal's pained expression.

'I know that Oberjarls are supposed to rob their subjects blind, Erak. But could you do it with taxes rather than bad arithmetic?' he said. 'Last time I figured it, seventeen thousand, three hundred less seventeen thousand, two hundred leaves one hundred.'

'So it is,' said Erak as if he'd only just realised his mistake. Svengal snorted derisively and reached for the bones clutched in his leader's hand.

And it's my throw. Not yours,' he said.

'So it is,' Erak repeated. Svengal rolled his eyes to heaven, took the bones and prepared to throw.

'Another thing… ' Gilan began.

'Oh my God,' Halt said wearily.

But Gilan merely glanced at him before he continued. 'Another thing,' he repeated. 'Has anyone noticed the strange looks the guards have been giving us? When they bring us our food, they're sort of… grinning about something.'

'They're happy souls,' Halt said.

Gilan shook his head. 'They're smirking at us. Something's in the wind. I can sense it.'

'My friend,' Selethen told him, 'it's no good wasting energy worrying about it. Just relax.'

Gilan shook his head stubbornly. 'I want to be ready for it when it happens,' he said. Evanlyn looked at him curiously.