GO!” GIDEON CRIED, whacking his camel with the driving stick. The beasts hardly needed persuading, given the unholy shrieks of the horde on the ridgetop that filled the valley with bloodthirsty ululations. Gideon aimed his camel at the opening in the far rock wall and they galloped along the edge of the valley toward it. Looking over his shoulder, Gideon saw that Imogen was close behind, with Garza bringing up the rear, trailing the pack camel.
A galloping camel is more like a bucking bronco than anything else, and Gideon held on to the rings of his saddle for dear life as they went bounding and lurching across the sand. The pounding of the camels’ pads on the ground was like the beating of drums, accompanying the whoops and cries of Blackbeard and his warriors.
They entered the narrow canyon and the walls quickly closed in on them. Its bottom was a floor of sand and gravel, almost flat, with steep hills of eroded sandstone on either side. Gideon whipped his camel again, feeling sorry for the creature but terrified about what would happen if they were caught. Imogen remained close behind but Garza, hauling the pack camel, was having trouble keeping up, the riderless beast showing reluctance to run as fast as the others. Gideon was glad they had taken care to tie the packs of treasure down tightly; the camel’s motions were so violent, it seemed the panniers might fly off at any moment.
As they ran, bits of camel saliva flew back from the animal’s rubbery lips, speckling Gideon’s face and limbs. Their pursuers were now close to the bottom of the trail and would soon be chasing them on the flats—unfortunately, the carefully curated legends about the Valley of the Demons had obviously not deterred Mugdol from his revenge.
The narrow canyon made a gradual turn to the right, and then swung through a leftward arc. Thank God, Gideon thought, they had the moonlight to see by. But then again, every advantage they had, their pursuers had as well. If it became a flat-out race, they would lose. While Imogen had selected good camels, Blackbeard and his crew were far superior riders. They would inevitably catch up, and soon, and then the slaughter would commence.
Even as they raced along the canyon, Gideon’s mind was furiously turning over the possibilities. They did have one advantage: crossbows. Blackbeard and his gang didn’t even have simple bows—just spears and daggers. This would give them an edge as long as they weren’t forced into fighting at close quarters. But better to avoid a fight at all.
“We can’t outrun them!” Imogen cried from behind.
“I know—I’m thinking!”
“Think harder! They’re gaining!”
But Gideon found it hard to think while filled with terror and being thrown up and down like a rag doll. The canyon made another turn and the wadi sloped ever so slightly downward. A side canyon entered from the right, and another from the left, then more and more as dry washes began joining the main wadi on both sides. Could they flee up one of these? But their tracks would be obvious, and besides none of them looked promising—they all seemed to box up, which would leave them trapped.
The crossbows. If they could take one of the side canyons and gain the tactical advantage of high ground, establishing a position where they could shoot down on their pursuers as they passed below, that might work. But they had to do it soon, while the warriors were still far enough behind.
“Just running is a losing strategy!” Garza yelled.
Ahead the main canyon narrowed once again, but to the right a twisting wadi seemed to form a path up and out, to a low saddle above the main canyon. It was just the setup Gideon was looking for. If they could get up there with their crossbows, they might be in time to fire down on Mugdol and his riders as they passed—and with total impunity, as the height was too great for thrown spears.
“On the right!” he called over his shoulder. “We’re going up!”
Neither objected. As they galloped into the side-wadi, Gideon was forced to slow down so his camel could negotiate a bed strewn with rocks. He gave the camel its head and it picked its way through the boulder field. Now the wash mounted a narrow ravine, and the animals stumbled upward, heaving with exertion, between walls of stone. Soon they came to a tumble of boulders with very little room to pass.
“It’s too hard on the camels,” said Imogen. “We need to get off and walk.”
They slid out of the saddles and led the animals by their halters through the tricky terrain. Up and up they went, until the wadi petered out in the depression Gideon had seen from below. He turned his camel sharply to the right and they came out on the ridgetop overlooking the canyon. It was an excellent setup for an ambush. He could hear the cries of the warriors growing louder as they galloped down the canyon.
“Tie up the camels,” he said, grabbing his crossbow. “We’ll fire on my signal.”
They wrapped the halter ropes around boulders and scrambled up the edge of the precipice to where it beetled over the canyon. The unholy din of the warriors grew still louder.
“When they come in sight,” said Gideon, “don’t aim for the men. Shoot their camels. They make a bigger target.”
“Fuck that,” said Garza. “First chance, I’m killing Blackbeard.”
Gideon’s reply was cut off by a swell of sound from below. He stared into the moonlight-drenched canyon and saw the first rider tearing around the bend—Blackbeard—followed by the others, robes flying.
Gideon notched a bolt, then cocked it. The others did the same. Their quivers stood beside them, each with a dozen bolts ready to go.
The group thundered down the canyon. Gideon took aim at the camel directly behind Blackbeard, tracked it, and waited for it to come into range.
“Fire!” Three crossbows snapped and the bronze-tipped darts shot downward.
With a bellowing screech, two camels went down, their riders flung off, robes gyrating. There was a moment of confusion, with the others reining in their camels, pulling spears out of scabbards and casting about. Mugdol, who was unhurt, wheeled about and cried out a command, pointing up toward their perch. Meanwhile, Gideon and the others had cocked their crossbows and nocked fresh darts. Gideon aimed at Mugdol’s camel and fired, the other two quickly following.
“Keep firing!” he cried.
With another roared command, Blackbeard signaled for his warriors to ride past and get out of the line of fire. The riders whipped their camels forward and headed down the wash, angling toward the wadi that led up to their ambush place, abandoning the riders whose animals had been wounded.
“They’re coming up after us,” said Imogen.
“Fire again!”
Firing a third round into the rear guard of warriors, they managed to bring down another camel, but then the horde had gone past and there was no chance to fire a fourth.
“Time to run again,” muttered Garza.
Slinging the crossbows and quivers over their shoulders, they jumped back on their camels and whacked them into motion. With more roaring and grumbling, the camels rose.
“Which way?” Imogen called.
“West. Along the top of the ridge.”
As they accelerated to a gallop, Gideon could hear the clatter and shriek of their pursuers charging up the steep wadi. Soon their robed forms emerged at the top and the cries redoubled. With Blackbeard still in the lead, they charged along the ridge in furious pursuit.
“Where are we going?” Imogen yelled as they flew along.
“Who the hell knows?” Gideon yelled back.