For the next ten days, Eirik and his companions adopted a nocturnal way of life. As the sunset, they would pack up their simple camp and continue heading east along the river by the light of the full moon. Riding through the chill of night was infinitely preferable to enduring the merciless heat of the day and the rivers of sweat that glued dust to every exposed scrap of skin. As dawn began to warm the earth, the little group would retreat behind boulders and outcrops to take their rest beneath the Greenwalker’s living canopy.

  Thus far they had seen no sign of human life, although they’d spotted signs of passage a number of times and warily moved closer the the cover of the treeline. On one occasion they’d come upon the remains of a campfire on the riverbed which, on examination proved to be be more than a week old. Despite the age of the remains and air of disuse, none of the party wanted to spend the night where others had already camped. They travelled for an hour past dawn before finally finding an undisturbed spot.

  The second incident was more disturbing and reminded them all how dangerous their journey could be. The moon had passed its zenith when Eirik felt the familiar itch under his scalp. He gave a soft whistle to alert Ruefin and stared into the shadowed trees on the north side of the riverbank.

  “What’s in there, Eirik?” Ruefin asked, steering his camel closer and keeping his voice low.

  “Not sure,” Eirik replied, “but I’m pretty sure it’s not animals.”

  Hataya turned in her saddle at the sound of their voices and followed the direction of their gaze.

  “What’s the matter?” she asked under her breath.

  “We’re being watched,” Eirik replied, not taking his eyes from the treeline, “and they’re not friendly. Maybe we should pick up the pace while there’s distance between us.”

  “Agreed. Follow me. I’ll get us away from the river for a few miles and make it harder to follow us.”

  Hataya urged her camel into a run and made for the south side of the riverbank. A blur of movement shot past Lady Latrine in the opposite direction, and Eirik caught sight of Yadiru in full flight heading for the treeline. As his mount left the riverbed in pursuit of Ruefin and Hataya, a chorus of shouts punctuated by screams split the night behind him. Good boy, he though. Whoever had been lurking in the shadows had much bigger problems than finding a good ambush point. A final shriek suggested the Emissary had concluded his diplomatic mission and Eirik smiled to himself as Lady Latrine galloped across the rocky ground into the darkness. Half an hour later Yadiru caught up and returned to jogging alongside Hataya. Even in the dark Eirik recognised the self-satisfied smirk on the dog’s muzzle and the glint of bloodstains on his chest. The Emissary was proving to be quite the asset.

  The moon had waned to a crescent by the time the river turned south and began leading the party into gentler terrain. The morning light shone on distant mountains and densely forested foothills through which the river had cut its way. The greenery along the banks began to expand outwards and tufts of tough grasses dotted the broken ground in clumps. Small copses took the place of clustered cacti and the buzz of insects filled the air.

  They camped by the river where the foliage grew thickest and Hataya used her skills to augment it with a living curtain of twisting vines and shoots. She had a grim set to her mouth and Eirik guessed that the change of environment unsettled her.

  “At last some decent shade,” Ruefin said, opening up the supply packs and setting out the makings of a meal. “I was getting bored with all that bloody sand.”

  “We could have more to worry about when we pass into the forest,” Hataya replied. She rested her staff against a tree and produced a flask and three cups from her satchel.

  “Larger predators, I suspect,” Eirik said, taking a sip of the potent spirit, “and plenty of cover for them to hide in.”

  “We’re more likely to encounter people here. There are villages and small settlements throughout the foothills and the lower reaches of the mountains. The land is fertile and the hunting is good.” Hataya drank slowly with tension in her eyes.

  “Do you expect them to be unfriendly? “ Ruefin asked as he stirred the yogurt pan over the fire.

  “If you asked me that three years ago, I would say no, but times have changed. If Umriah partied have been here before us there’s a chance that strangers will be treated with suspicion at best.”

  “I can guess how it would have gone,” Eirik said, slowly breaking up a piece of date bread. “Murder the inhabitants, strip out the resources and burn the village to the ground. Standard pattern of raiding parties the world over. I doubt any survivors would give strangers the chance to draw breath. Looks like we’ll have to move through the trees quietly.”

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  “That will be impossible,” Hataya replied, knocking back her fire-water and gesturing towards their mounts. “Camels aren’t well-suited to moving through trees. Too big and too noisy. There’s an old road the traders use to visit the villages and we can follow it to the mountain trail that leads to the shrine.”

  “Not ideal,” Eirik chewed thoughtfully, watching Yadiru subtly stealing dates from Hataya’s bag. “Even less ideal is that we’ll have to travel by daylight. The moon’s on the wane and, even if it weren’t, it would never penetrate the canopy.”

  “And lanterns would be too visible in a dark forest,” Ruefin added, shaking his head. “Shit. Looks like we’ll be leaning on you a bit more, old pal.”

  Hataya leaned back on her pack and looked over at Eirik with her head on one side.

  “I can’t decide whether you have sharp eyes or ears,” she said, tightening the drawstring on her bag and moving it away from Yadiru. The Emissary sighed and shifted his attention to Eirik.

  “It’s not something I can explain. I know when I’m being watched and I know when I’m being followed. Normally I can tell if it’s animal or human, friendly or hostile. I don’t know how or why I can do it, but I’m not often wrong.” Eirik shrugged and accepted a cup of warm yogurt from Ruefin. “It’s just something I can do.”

  “He’s saved our arses more than once,” Ruefin added, reaching out and clinking his cup against Eirik’s.

  Eirik shifted his gaze from Ruefin back to the dog. He watched the head stretch forward as the nostrils flared and sniffed at him. The bright orange eyes were locked on his and the ears slightly cocked. It was as if the dog was searching for some kind of clue.

  “There is a great power within you,” Hataya said, “a power greater than you know. Perhaps, one day in the future, you’ll discover its source.”

  “The gods certainly hand out useful gifts when they’re in the mood,” Ruefin said, patting his chest and emitting a loud belch.

  “Oh, this is no gift from the gods,” Hataya replied, settling herself on her bedroll, “this is something from within. Yadiru sees it too. Can’t you see he can’t take his eyes off you?”

  Eirik hadn’t failed to notice Yadiru’s interest. He’d seen it from the moment the dog turned up. Every time the animal entered his presence, those orange eyes followed his every word and move. At first he presumed it was nothing more than canine curiosity in a stranger, but that was before he understood Yadiru’s true nature. Whether he was a creation of the Court or a manifestation of one of its members remained uncertain, but he was more than just a dog. If only he could speak and tell Eirik what he saw.

  They rested for a day and a night in the heart of the shady thicket. For the first time on their journey they felt the need to keep watch and each took their turn. Eirik made frequent circuits of the small clump of trees, eyes watchful and ears straining for the slightest hint of danger. The arid landscape they’d left behind provided few opportunities for ambush, but the forest ahead was a different story. As the elevation increased, so did the vegetation until the foothills became a carpet of rich emerald green. Even with the increased risk, Eirik felt more comfortable beneath the trees and allowed himself to relax a little. The barren expanse of the scrublands had left him feeling tense and exposed, vulnerable in a way he’d not experienced before. Until now, his travels had been part of a group, a unit of soldiers working together and watching out for one another. Now, for the first time, it was just him and Ruefin making their own way and looking out for themselves. Their strength and training worked in their favour but they were still only two people. Superior numbers would sweep them aside with ease, as the fight at the water-hole had shown. Eirik had seen how things could turn sour in the blink of an eye, and how a small wound could bring even Ruefin within spitting distance of death. If the enigmatic Court of the Winds hadn’t led them to the Yeshmari, their bleached skeletons would be lying in the dust already.

  He took a deep breath and made a final circuit, his gaze drifting to the misty forest shrouding the mountains to the south. Preparation, vigilance, determination, he told himself as he made his way back to camp.