Erak's Ransom (10 page)

Wakir
had come to his feet again, and was gesturing uncertainly towards Selethen. The captain stepped forward now and called after her.
'Princess Cassandra! Please wait!'
Evanlyn stopped and turned deliberately.
'Wait?' she asked and he moved towards her, hands stretched out in an imploring gesture. 'Why should I wait to be insulted any further? You've had me dealing with an impostor. I'll wait in the guesthouse, but only as long as the real
Wakir
doesn't make himself known by next tide, then, we're leaving.'
Selethen hesitated, then his shoulders relaxed and he smiled ruefully.
'My apologies, your highness.' He turned to the tubby little figure on the dais. 'Thank you, Aman. You did your best.'
The fake
Wakir
shrugged disconsolately. 'I'm sorry, Excellence. She caught me by surprise.'
The suspicion that had been growing in Evanlyn's mind was confirmed. She raised an eyebrow at the captain. 'Excellence?' she repeated and he shrugged.
'Aman is my accountant,' he said. 'As I think you just guessed, I am
Wakir
of Al Shabah. Now perhaps you could come back and we'll begin to negotiate in earnest.'
Evanlyn hesitated. She was tempted to stand on her dignity. Then she thought about Erak and realised that every second of delay would cause him discomfort and uncertainty.
'Very well,' she said and walked back to the dais. The four Araluans and Svengal followed her. As they marched back up the audience hall, Horace leaned down to Will and whispered in his ear.
'Is she good at this, or what?'

Selethen led them out of the large audience hall to a smaller chamber set to one side. There was a low central table surrounded by thick, comfortable cushions. Arched, unglazed windows looked out onto a shaded verandah while a slow-moving fan, obviously kept moving by an unseen servant, swung back and forth overhead, keeping a cool breeze moving through the room.
Selethen gestured for them to sit. This time, Will realised, there was no position of power for the
Wakir.
He sat on the same level as his guests. Two of his soldiers remained in the room standing impassively to either side of the door. At a signal from from one, servants emerged through a far archway and placed bowls of fruit on the table, along with a coffee and small cups. Evanlyn hid a smile as she saw the Rangers' eyes light up at the sight of the last items.
'My apologies for the play acting outside,' Selethen said smoothly. He looked slightly amused by the whole proceeding, Will thought. Evanlyn showed no sign of any reciprocal amusement.
'Was it really necessary?' she asked coldly and Selethen inclined his head.
'I'm afraid I felt it was, your highness,' he said. Evanlyn went to speak but he continued, 'You must appreciate that I needed to be sure I was dealing with someone who has full power to negotiate. After all, I expected Svengal here,' he nodded towards the Skandian, who was trying to make himself comfortable sitting cross-legged on a cushion, 'to return some months hence with the ransom money. A delegation from Araluen, arriving so soon and apparently acting on his behalf, was definitely a surprise. I suspected a trick.'
His gaze flicked to Svengal again. 'No offence,' he added and the Skandian shrugged. If he had been able to think of a worthwhile trick to release Erak, then he would have tried it.
'You had my seal,' Evanlyn told him. 'Surely that was proof enough.' It wasn't a question. It was a statement. Selethen inclined his head thoughtfully.
'I recognised the seal, of course. I knew nothing of the person who carried it. After all, a seal can be stolen or even copied. I was faced with the prospect of negotiating with a young woman. I needed to be certain that you were the real Princess. That's why I had Aman impersonate me. I knew you'd probably see through the deception. But if you were planning trickery of your own you'd pretend to go along with it. Only a real princess would have the courage and dignity to call my bluff and walk out as you did.'
He smiled at Halt. 'Your Princess has a strong nerve. She'd make a great Arridi.'
'She makes a great Araluan,' Halt replied and the
Wakir
acknowledged the statement.
Then he rubbed both his hands together and smiled soberly.
'So now, perhaps we can negotiate!' he said.
The haggling took most of the rest of the morning. Selethen returned to his base figure of eighty thousand reels. Evanlyn countered with an offer of forty-five thousand. When he gave her a hurt look and pointed out that earlier, she had begun at fifty thousand, Evanlyn told him that he had tried to trick her and her dignity now demanded a lower figure as a starting point.
The bargaining continued. Selethen raised the fact that keeping Erak guarded and cared for had already cost his province a considerable amount of money.
'Those soldiers could have been gainfully employed elsewhere,' he told her. 'The Tualaghi bandits raid our villages constantly.'
Halt looked up at the name. Crowley's briefing to him had relied on intelligence that was over a year old. He had been under the impression that the Tualaghi, a wild desert tribe of bandits and robbers, had been successfully suppressed. Apparently, if the
Wakir
was to be believed, they had regained some of their traditional strength. It was fact worth knowing, he thought — unless it was just a bargaining ploy on Selethen's part.
Evanlyn expressed her sympathy for the expenses incurred. But her tone left no doubt that she was less than concerned about it. In reply, she countered with the expense of her trip to Arrida — and the cost of maintaining her own retinue.
'Very few expeditions enjoy the presence of three Rangers,' she said. 'Their skills are very much in demand in my homeland.'
It was Selethen's turn to react to a word. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully as she said 'Rangers'. He knew there had been something about those three cloaked men. They had the appearance of simple woodsmen, archers or hunters. Yet there was an air of self-assurance about them all, and the older one, the Princess's principal adviser, spoke with a depth of authority that one would never expect from a simple archer. Rangers. Yes, he had heard the term. There were rumours about the Araluan Rangers — stories told by seafarers who had visited their country. They were vague and unsubstantiated, and doubtless exaggerated, to be sure. But enough to make him look at them with renewed interest.
Even as his mind was running along these lines, he continued his smooth discussion of relative costs and expenses incurred — along with appropriate levels of reparation that might be involved.
'Let it be remembered that your friend and ally came here as a raider,' he said. 'He planned to rob Al Shabah's treasury.' His subtle use of the words 'friend and ally' conveyed the vague implication that the Kingdom of Araluen had given some kind of tacit approval to Erak's raiding. It gave him a step up onto the moral high ground. 'There must be some penalty exacted for that intention.'
Evanlyn conceded the point — she could hardly do otherwise. She countered with the fact that nothing had actually been stolen but Selethen had won that round. She was forced to raise her bid to fifty-five thousand. He said he would consider — consider, mind you — a sum of seventy-eight thousand.
And so it went on. Selethen was clearly enjoying the process. Bargaining was a matter dear to any Arridi's heart. And, after a while, to her own surprise, Evanlyn found she was enjoying herself as well. The man was charming and good humoured. It was impossible to take offence to him. And she had to admit that he was very handsome, in an exotic, swashbuckling fashion.
Eventually, they reached a tentative agreement. The figure was sixty-six thousand, four hundred and eight reels of silver, to be paid in the form of a warrant on the Silasian Council. The odd figure of four hundred and eight reels was reached when Selethen complained that the Silasians would take their commission from the end figure. The fact that delivery of the silver was absolutely guaranteed allowed him to give a little on the figure. But he still resented the commission.
He wrote the final amount on a parchment and nodded several times.
'I will consider this for the next hour,' he said.
He rose, offering his hand to Evanlyn to assist her. Even though she was as lithe and athletic as a cat, she took it, enjoying the contact. She saw Horace's slight frown as she did so and smiled to herself. A girl can never have too many admirers, she thought. Will, she noted, seemed unperturbed by the fact that she retained hold of Selethen's hand a little longer than politeness dictated. But then, Rangers were trained to look imperturbable. He was probably seething with jealousy, she thought.
The others rose to their feet as well, Svengal grunting as he heaved his bulk upright.
'I will have you escorted back to the guesthouse,' Selethen told her. 'I will bring you my answer in an hour's time.'
In spite of the delay, she knew that the figure would be accepted. Halt had told her before they left the guesthouse that the facade of considering it for an hour was simply part and parcel of Arridi bargaining.
She smiled and bowed her head. 'Thank you, Excellence. I look forward to your decision.'
Back at the guesthouse, as they sat around the table in the courtyard, Svengal shook his head impatiently.
'Why do they have to go through all this rigmarole?' he asked. 'We know they're going to accept the figure. They know they're going to accept it. Why not just say so and be done with it?'
'It's a kind of compliment,' Halt told him. 'It makes it seem that you've driven such a hard bargain that they can't accept immediately. They have to appear reluctant. They enjoy subtleties like that.'
Svengal snorted. Like most Skandians, he preferred the direct approach. The tortuous subtleties of diplomacy left him cold.
Gilan grinned. 'I liked his subtle implication that we were somehow involved in the raid.'
Halt nodded. 'You mean his reference to our being "a friend and ally"? It was a nice touch.'
Svengal was still annoyed over what he saw as an unnecessary waste of time. In addition, he was bored, tired with behaving diplomatically and looking for an argument to pass the time.
'Well, in a way, he's right. All this is partly your fault, you know,' he said.
Halt leaned forward in his chair, eyebrow raised. 'Our fault?'
Svengal made a vague gesture. 'Yes. After all, if you hadn't insisted that we stop raiding your country, we never would have been here in the first place.'
'Pardon me if I disagree,' Evanlyn said. 'You surely can't be trying to blame us for Erak's habit of charging ashore waving an axe and grabbing everything that isn't nailed down?' She realised as she said it that it might sound a little harsh so she added with a note of apology, 'No offence, Svengal.'
Svengal shrugged. 'None taken. It's a pretty accurate description of Erak on a raid, as a matter of fact. But the point remains ... '
Whatever that point might have been was never made clear, as a servant appeared at that moment, informing them of Selethen's arrival. The
Wakir
followed a few metres behind, smiling as they rose from their chairs around the table.
'Agreed,' he said and there were smiles all round the table.
'That's wonderful, Excellence,' Evanlyn told him. 'I have a warrant against the Silasian Council in my baggage. All it needs is for the amount to be filled in and for me to add my seal. We can do that straight away.'
Selethen nodded contentedly. 'Whenever it's convenient, your highness,' he said. 'There's no hurry.'
Fortunately, there would be no problem with both sides understanding the warrant. The Silasian Council's warrants were well known throughout the area and although Araluans and Arridi used a different written language, both nations used the same numbering system. The figure agreed and signed to by Evanlyn would be unmistakable.
'I'm sure Erak wouldn't agree,' Halt said. 'When will we be able to see him and give him the news?'
Selethen hesitated.
'Ah ... yes. We will bring him to you,' he agreed eventually.
'Today?' Halt asked and again there was that slight hesitation.
'Perhaps it might take a little longer than that,' Selethen said. Halt looked at him suspiciously.
'How long?' he asked very deliberately. Selethen gave him his most disarming smile. Halt remained resolutely un-disarmed.
'Four days? Perhaps five?' Selethen said.
Evanlyn and Halt exchanged exasperated glances.
'Where exactly is he?' the Princess asked Selethen. There was a definite cutting edge on her voice, Will thought. Selethen seemed to agree. His disarming smile became a little less confident.
'In the fortress at Mararoc,' he said. 'It's four days ride inland.'

'When were you planning on sharing this information with us?' Halt's voice was deceptively calm.
Selethen shrugged. 'Once the bargaining was complete. I had him removed from Al Shabah three days ago, when your ship was first sighted. There was always the chance that we might not reach an agreement and in that case, I wanted the prisoner where his crew couldn't attempt a sneak attack to rescue him.' He glanced at Svengal. 'No offence.'
The Skandian drew a deep breath and let it out very slowly. He was obviously making a huge effort to control himself.
'You know, one of these days, I'm actually going to
take
offence if people keep throwing out these slurs. And then things are going to get rather ugly. When we Skandians take offence, we do it with a battleaxe.'
Selethen inclined his head. 'In that case, accept my deepest apologies. In any event, now that the bargaining is successful, I'll send word to Mararoc and have the Oberiarl brought back here. As soon as the warrant is sealed and delivered to me.'
'Oh no. I don't think so,' Evanlyn said immediately. 'I'm not handing over the best part of seventy thousand reels until I've seen the goods are undamaged.' For a moment, she was about to say 'no offence' to Svengal for referring to his Oberjarl as 'goods'. In the light of his previous statement, she thought it wiser not to.
They had reached an impasse. Selethen was not willing to bring Erak back to the coast until the money had been exchanged. Equally, Evanlyn was not going to pay until she had proof Erak was unharmed. The two negotiators stared at each other stubbornly. Will finally broke the silence.
'Why don't we go to Mararoc to fetch him?' he asked Selethen. 'The Princess can reassure herself that Erak is all right and hand over the warrant there.'
It was significant, he thought, that both Evanlyn and Selethen looked immediately to Halt for a response. The older Ranger was nodding.
'I think it's a good idea,' he said. It was a fair compromise. And in addition, he could see there were advantages to travelling inland in Arrida. Very few Araluans had ever ventured more than a kilometre from the coast and a Ranger's thirst for strategic knowledge was insatiable. He looked at Selethen. 'I assume you'll ensure the Princess's safety?'
'We'll take an escort of fifty of my men,' he agreed. 'And my crew,' Svengal put in. 'After all, we've sworn to protect the Princess.'
This time, however, Selethen didn't agree.
'No,' he said flatly. 'I'm not allowing an armed force of Skandians to go marching across Arrida.'
'There's only thirty of them,' Svengal said ingenuously. Selethen smiled grimly.
'Thirty Skandians,' he said, 'are the equivalent of a small army.'
Svengal had to grin modestly at that assessment. Selethen switched his gaze to Halt.
'I can't allow it,' he said simply.
Halt nodded. 'He's right, Svengal. You wouldn't allow a hundred Arridi warriors to go wandering around Skandia, would you?'
Svengal chewed his moustache thoughtfully and eventually he had to agree that Halt was right.
The Ranger saw him wavering and added, 'And I think the five of us, along with Selethen and fifty warriors, should be enough to keep the Princess safe.'
Evanlyn coughed lightly and they all looked at her.
'I think the Princess,' she said archly, 'would prefer it if you didn't discuss her as if she weren't in the room.' She smiled at Svengal then and added: 'I'm happy to release your men from their oath for the short time it will take us to get to Mararoc.'
Then she turned to Selethen.
'So when do we get started?'
They left in the pre-dawn greyness the following morning. Selethen pointed out that the Arridi preferred to travel in the hours before noon, by which time the sun had reached its full heat. None of the Araluans saw any reason to disagree with him.
The sea breeze followed them for the first kilometre or two. The early morning was fresh and cool and they covered ground quickly. Selethen had supplied Evanlyn with a horse — one of the local breed favoured by Arridi warriors. It was taller than the horses the three Rangers rode — finer boned and more delicate looking. Its coat was smooth and short-haired, in contrast to the shaggy little horses. It had a short muzzle and a handsome, intelligent face. Obviously bred for flashing speed in short bursts, thought Halt as he admired the beast. And undoubtedly able to cope with the heat and dryness of the desert.
The Arridi leader had offered Horace a similar mount but Horace had chosen to stay with Kicker.
'He knows my ways,' he said, smiling.
There was a long, thin band of orange creeping above the low hills in the east as they rode inland. The sea breeze faded away as they got farther from the coast but the air was still chilled. The clear nights in the desert allowed heat to escape into the atmosphere, Selethen had warned them. Nights were surprisingly cold while the days became hot and searing.
'I thought deserts were supposed to be all sand,' Horace said to Will, surveying the hard, rocky surface they were crossing.
Selethen heard the comment and turned to him.
'You'll see plenty of that when we reach the Sand Depression,' he said. 'The ground we're crossing now is the coastal plain. Then there's a belt of sand dunes that stretches for thirty-odd kilometres before we reach the inland escarpment. We climb several hundred metres to the site of Mararoc.'
'So we'll see plenty of the country,' Horace said cheerfully.
The three Rangers exchanged quick glances. The previous night, Halt had called Will and Gilan to his room. 'This is a great opportunity to learn something about the inland areas of Arridi,' he said. 'After the first few kilometres, whatever maps we have in Araluen are sheer guesswork.'
Will and Gilan listened eagerly. Rangers were obsessed with information gathering, and knowledge of the topography of a country could be vital if there were ever any future confrontation with the Arridi.
'Take notice of any major land features — cliffs, hills, tors, wells. Particularly wells. When we rest, note them down. We'll compare notes each evening, to make sure we keep it as accurate as possible. Then we'll draw a chart of the day's progress. Do you both have your Northseekers?' he asked.
The two younger men nodded. The Northseekers were magnetised slivers of steel set in a protective container and free to swivel as the magnetic field of the earth dictated. Their use and value had originally been discovered by the Skandians. All Rangers carried them.
'Then use them,' Halt went on. 'But try to make sure Selethen doesn't notice too much of what we're doing.' Selethen was no fool. He saw the quick look that passed between the three Rangers and resolved to keep a close eye on them. There was no current animosity between their countries. But who knew when that might change?
The glaring eye of the sun had slid up over the rim of the earth now — a vast red ball rising into the sky. It interested Will that at this time of day it was possible to discern the sun's movement. One moment it was just broaching the horizon, next it was soaring freely. And already its heat was starting to bite, dispelling the remaining chill of the dark hours.
'Don't like the look of that,' Svengal muttered. He was riding a heavy-set workhorse. The slender Arridi breed would have been too light to carry his bulky frame over a long journey. Selethen looked at him curiously and the Skandian pointed towards the sun.
'When you see a red sunrise like that at sea, you start looking for a harbour,' he said.
The
Wakir
nodded. 'Same in the desert. It often means a storm. But not always,' he added, smiling reassuringly at Evanlyn.
During the hours before dawn, they had ridden as a group, with Selethen's men riding in a ring around them. Now that visibility had improved, he blew on a small silver whistle and the troop took up its daylight positions. A squad of five riders cantered forward until they were a kilometre in advance — still in sight but able to give ample warning of any impending attack. They spread out into line abreast, each man several hundred metres from his neighbour.
Another five dropped back and formed a similar screen to the rear. The remaining forty men spit into two files riding either side of the command group, a hundred metres out and on parallel paths. It was one advantage of travelling in such bare, featureless country, Halt thought.' Selethen could deploy his men across a wide space without having to keep them bunched up on a track.
The other notable feature of the formation was that it precluded the men talking among themselves and missing any possible threat. The horsemen in the two parallel files were all facing outwards, he noticed, their eyes scanning the horizon.
He nudged Abelard up level with Selethen's pure white stallion.
'Expecting trouble?' he asked, nodding at the wide-flung screen of men protecting them. Selethen shrugged.
'Always expect trouble in the desert. Then you usually won't meet it.'
Halt nodded appreciatively. 'Very wise,' he remarked. 'Who said that first?'
Selethen allowed himself a thin smile. 'A very wise man,' he said. 'Me, in fact.'
He glanced round. He could see the younger of the three Rangers making a note on a small sheet of parchment. He was staring intently at a hill in the distance with a distinctive hooked shape to its peak. He decided there was little he could do to stop this activity.
He realised Halt was asking another question.
'You mentioned the Tualaghi,' the Ranger said. He nodded meaningfully at the protective screen around them. 'I'd heard you had them pretty well under control.'
Selethen shook his head in exasperation. 'Nobody can keep those devils under control for too long. What do you know of them?'
Halt shrugged. 'They're raiders. Bandits. Assassins,' he said.
Selethen nodded grimly. 'All of that and worse. We call them the Forgotten of God, the Blue-Veiled Riders. They despise the true religion. They worship devils and demons and they're committed to murder and robbery and pillage. The trouble is, they know the desert like the back of their hands and they can strike and fade away before we have a chance to retaliate. They have no honour and no sense of pity. If you are not one of them, you are not human. Your life is worthless.'
'But you did manage to defeat them at one stage?' Halt prompted.
'Yes. We formed an alliance with the Bedullin.' Selethen saw the question forming on the other man's lips and went on to explain. 'They're a desert nomad tribe. Warriors. Independent and very proud. But they're honourable people. They know the desert nearly as well as the Tualaghi and they joined with us in a temporary alliance to bring them to heel.'
'Pity you couldn't make it permanent,' Halt said.
Selethen looked at him. 'Indeed. But as I say, the Bedullin are proud and independent. They're like hawks. You can use them to hunt for you for a while. But they're always really hunting for themselves. Perhaps it's time I approached them again to put the Tualaghi back in their place.'
Halt noticed that the
Wakir
was looking more and more often to the southern horizon. He followed the man's gaze and could see a thin dark line there.
'Trouble?' he said. Selethen flashed him a reassuring grin.
'Maybe. But at least the Tualaghi won't worry us. They move in groups of no more than ten. Fifty warriors would be too big a force for them to attack.'
'Quite so,' Halt murmured. 'Yet a wise man should always expect trouble, didn't you say?' Unconsciously, his 'hand touched the string of the massive longbow slung across his shoulders. Selethen noticed the action. He glanced at the southern horizon again. The dark line had thickened noticeably. And it seemed closer. His hand went to the silver whistle inside his shirt.
'I think I'll call the outriders in a little closer,' he said. 'Invisibility could become a problem before too long.'
Svengal had urged his sturdy horse up alongside them. He gestured to the approaching storm.
'Seen that?' he asked, and Selethen nodded. 'When we get hit by one of them at sea, it's full of wind and water and rain so thick you can't breathe. What's in that one?'
'Sand,' Selethen told them. 'Lots and lots of sand.'