Troop’s eyes were alternately scanning the ground and looking on ahead. With a gesture to Joe he called a halt and silently leaned low in the saddle, examining fresh pug marks in the mud along the edge of the track. Still without a word he slipped the sling of his rifle over his head and cradled it in his arms. ‘Leopard,’ he said. ‘It’s his lucky day! We have bigger fish to fry’

A chital hind appeared on the path ahead of them and turned in their direction calling urgently. The cry was taken up by many others; jungle fowl joined in the chorus. ‘We’ve been spotted!’ said Joe.

‘No,’ said Troop. ‘That’s a warning for us! They’re telling us that there’s a leopard ahead. Listen again!’

The chital began to call again on a different note. Troop smiled with satisfaction. ‘And that’s their “beware man” call so now the leopard knows we’re here. Good! Wouldn’t want to take the old bugger by surprise. Not much danger from him – leopard prefer to do their hunting at night and lie up during the day.’

They walked on, the horses not quite at ease with the scents they were picking up. At last they arrived at the waterfall. A stream burst from the cliff above and cascaded down into a rocky basin from where it overflowed into a large and steel-blue pool at their feet. As clear as gin and constantly renewed by the torrent fresh from the mountain, Joe thought he had never seen water so inviting. As he bent to drink and immerse his hot forehead he caught the reflection of Edgar Troop’s red face looming over his left shoulder. At once he straightened to face him and wave him towards the water. He was for a moment shocked that he could so far have let his guard slip as to offer his unprotected neck to a man who might yet prove to be his enemy. One blow, two strong hands holding his head under water and that red face would have been the last thing he ever saw.

Troop grinned, understanding his swift movement, and bent to drink.

The insecurity of the moment impelled Joe to reflect on his situation. He was miles from civilization in the company of a self-confessed ‘gun for hire’, a man who was in his own element and who knew the terrain and the dangers it presented. Joe began to work out the number of different ways in which Troop could kill him off and dispose of his body. And perhaps the only thing restraining Troop from doing just that was the note Joe had hurriedly written out and handed to one of Carter’s sowars before leaving. And the fact that Troop needed his back-up when they eventually caught up with Alice and her escort. Joe calculated that he was probably in little danger until they embarked on the return journey with Alice and her jewellery.

With refreshed horses they pressed on, going always, it seemed to Joe, against the grain of the country. He began to appreciate the sturdy, tireless legs of the two horses as they alternately climbed up and slithered down slopes, steadily gaining altitude. Joe looked anxiously at the height of the sun. The valleys behind them were already in darkness but ahead on the uplift of land towards which they were headed he calculated they had roughly three more hours of full sunlight. Whatever the outcome of this insane dash into the mountains they would be spending the night outdoors.

A deep valley opened before them, the ground beyond it rising to a rocky outcrop.

‘That,’ said Edgar Troop, ‘is where our routes converge. We follow this track down into the valley and up to the rocks and you see the road coming in on our right. I should think they’re planning to break their journey here, spend the night and make a push for the Zalori at first light. Now, the question is – who got there first, Sandilands and Troop or Rheza and Alice? Further question – Rheza and Alice, are they alone?’

Joe strained his eyes to sweep the ground ahead, saying at last, ‘Is that a building, there amongst the rocks?’

‘Was,’ said Troop. ‘Was. Long abandoned. There’s the remains of a fort there. It hasn’t got a name as far as I know. We just call it the Red Fort. It’s a useful landmark and overnight shelter. Used a fair bit by hunters and merchants but it’s not much more than that.’

He set his horse gingerly to negotiate the rocky defile. ‘Couldn’t have done this earlier in the spring,’ he said. ‘When the snows melt it’s a raging torrent but it makes a useful track at this time of year.’

Carefully the horses picked their way through the stones and down to a brawling stream crossed by a slab of rock and on the far side their path led upwards once more until, rounding a corner, they came on the Red Fort. Edgar Troop reined in sharply and gestured to Joe to stay back. ‘Hello?’ he muttered in a puzzled voice. ‘Someone’s been doing a bit of make and mend! That’s curious.’

‘What can you see?’ said Joe.

‘The gate. Somebody’s repaired the gate. As long as I can remember this has just been an open archway but somebody’s repaired the gate and repaired it well, too. Now who can that have been? Rheza, I guess, or Rheza on Alice’s behalf. It looks to me as though we’ve stumbled on an ICTC staging post. And why not? No law against it, after all. Wonder if there’s anybody at home?’

He searched the building ahead with his binoculars saying as he did so, ‘The mast or flagstaff or whatever you care to call it – that wasn’t there last time I came this way… What’s going on, I wonder?’

‘Only one way to find out,’ said Joe.

They moved forward cautiously, Troop in the lead, listening intently, even sniffing the air.

The building before them with its small window openings, its crenellated parapet, its watchful tower, its newly repaired gate suddenly seemed a strong place. The westering sun struck colour from the ancient walls and the building became a red fort indeed.

‘Useful place, this,’ said Joe. ‘You can see for miles!’

‘Oh, yes,’ said Troop. ‘These forts in the mountains are always well placed. Nobody’s going to take it by surprise. When the British cleaned it up… oh, about fifty years ago… they didn’t want to leave a convenient roosting place for malefactors on their back doorstep.’

‘Well, that may have been their intention,’ said Joe, ‘but it looks about fifteen all at the moment. The British dismantle, the malefactors reassemble. Isn’t that about it?’

‘Yes, that’s about it, I suppose.’ Troop spoke slowly, his attention only half on Joe, his expression thoughtful. ‘Some while since I was last here… last spring, I’d guess. A year in which things have been happening, it seems.’

‘What sort of things?’ Joe asked.

‘Well, rather hard to tell but there is something. A difference between deserted and not deserted. If a place is deserted the grass grows but if it’s in use the grass gets trampled. The grass has been trampled. And there – look. That’s not, as you might suppose, horse shit, that’s mule shit. Don’t ask me how I know but I do. And if you’re going for a leisurely ride through these hills you don’t come riding a mule. And there have been quite a few mules. Recently. I’d guess we’re ahead of Rheza and Alice but how far ahead I don’t know. If anybody’s going to get a surprise from this encounter I’d sooner it was them than us. First thing is to put the horses out of sight. Can’t keep them silent – wish we could – but we can at least keep them concealed.’

‘Is there anywhere in this battered caravanserai where we can conceal them?’

‘ “Think, in this battered caravanserai,” ’ said Edgar Troop, surprisingly,

‘Whose portals are alternate night and day,

How sultan after sultan with his pomp

Abode his destined hour and went his way.’

‘Omar Khayyam,’ said Joe, much surprised.

‘As you say,’ said Troop absently, busily scanning the building ahead of them with his binoculars. ‘Stand here, Joe, and cover me while I go and take a look.’

He disappeared into a narrow staircase which corkscrewed its way downwards and Joe heard him moving about and exclaiming from below. He was gone for what seemed a long time and Joe had a moment of anxiety. ‘How little I know about this man,’ he thought, ‘and how I put myself into his hands. And come to that how many miles I am from anyone and anything that might reassure or be familiar.’ Finally thinking, ‘I’ll count up to a hundred and then I’ll go and see what he’s up to.’