John Flanagan: Erak_s ransom

'Humour me. I'm an addle-headed girl.'

Across the fire, Cielema hid a smile behind her hand. Umar, who had been told the background to this discussion by Will, leaned forward helpfully.

'If I might assist here. A ransom is paid by one party when a second party is holding a third party hostage.'

'That's a lot of parties,' Horace whispered to Will and the young Ranger grinned.

'S-o-o-o,' Evanlyn said, 'if I were the first party, I would pay an agreed amount to the second party who is holding the third party? Is that correct?'

'Correct,' Selethen said, thin-lipped. Evanlyn frowned at him, a puzzled expression on her face.

'You can't really expect me to pay sixty-six thousand reels of silver to Yusal, can you?'

'To Yusal!' the Wakir exclaimed, coming close to choking on his coffee. 'Why in the name of all that's holy would you pay it to Yusal?'

Evanlyn spread her hands in an ingenuous gesture. 'Well, he was the second party, wasn't he? He was the one holding Erak hostage when we found him. Not you,' she added, after a significant pause.

'That's a technicality,' Selethen began in a blustering tone. But he had a sinking feeling. He was being outsmarted. He thought it might be a good tactic to change the subject, then work back to the ransom question later. 'Besides, Yusal's future is yet to be decided,' he said.

'That's a good point,' Halt put in. 'What's going to become of Yusal?'

Selethen gestured towards Umar. 'That's for the Bedullin to decide, I would say. What do you want to do with him, Aseikh Umar?'

Umar shrugged. 'I don't want him. You can have him if you want him.'

Selethen smiled for the first time since this discussion had begun.

'Oh yes, I want him. The man is a killer and a rebel and we have a cell ready and waiting for him in Mararoc. He's been a thorn in our side for longer than I can remember. With him out of the way, the Tualaghi will be a lot easier to handle. As a matter of fact, the Emtikir has been offering a substantial re – '

He stopped himself a fraction of a second too late, realising he had said too much. He feigned a fit of coughing to cover his lapse.

Evanlyn waited till he finished, then tugged at his sleeve, forcing him to make eye contact.

'A substantial "re",' she said, mimicking his hesitation. 'Would that be "reward" that you were going to say?'

'Yes.' The word was forced out from between Selethen's suddenly thin lips.

'Now let me get this straight,' Evanlyn said thoughtfully. 'Who actually captured Yusal? I mean, who actually defeated him?' She looked up at the stars, her brow knitted in thought. Then it cleared and she said happily, 'Oh, I remember! I did! With my little sling!'

'She's right,' Umar said, grinning fiercely. 'If anyone has the right to determine his fate, it's her.'

'So I'd be entitled to that "substantial reward" you mentioned?'

Selethen was in an awkward position. If they had been conducting this discussion at Al Shabah or in Mararoc, he would have had the negotiating advantage that came with a large number of armed men to uphold his argument. But the only large force here was Bedullin – and their leader seemed to be in agreement with Evanlyn. On top of that, the Wakir admitted, there was a certain validity to all her claims. He hadn't been holding Erak when the Skandian was rescued – and the Araluan Princess was the one who had brought Yusal down. Technically, the Tualaghi war leader was her prisoner. Technically, she owed Selethen nothing and he owed her the reward. This wasn't how he'd planned things, he thought.

'All right, let's get down to it,' said Evanlyn, dropping the little girl act and suddenly becoming all business. 'Selethen, I believe we do owe you something. But not sixty-six thousand reels. And we definitely owe Umar and the Bedullin something because, without them, Erak would still be Yusal's captive.'

'We didn't do it for money. We did it for friendship,' Umar said, indicating Will when he mentioned friendship. Evanlyn nodded acknowledgement.

'You can always give it back if you like,' she said and, as Umar hastened to make a negative gesture, she smiled. 'So here's the offer: I'm willing to pay Umar and his people twenty thousand reels for their help.'

She paused, taking in the looks of agreement and approval around the fire. It was a fair sum. She went on:

'I'll pay the same amount to you, Selethen. Twenty thousand. I think you're owed something.' Before the Wakir could say anything, she added, 'And I'll forego the "substantial reward" for Yusal. You can have him. Keep him. Cut off his ears. Drop him down a well if you like. I don't want him. Is that fair?'

Selethen hesitated, then his own sense of justice cut in. The offer was effectively more than forty thousand. She could offer nothing and get away with it.

'It's fair. I accept gratefully,' he said.

Erak nodded his approval too. He thought Evanlyn had handled the entire matter with great statesmanship. Stateswomanship, he corrected himself.

'You're very generous, Princess,' he said, smiling indulgently at her. Evanlyn looked at him, one eyebrow raised.

'No, I'm not,' she said. 'You are. You're repaying the forty thousand to my father, remember?'

'Oh, yes… of course,' Erak said. He felt a stabbing sensation in his heart. Skandians often had that sensation when they lost money. Suddenly he didn't feel like smiling any more.

The meeting broke up shortly after that and Evanlyn strolled back to her tent, her hand resting lightly on Halts arm. When they were out of earshot of both Bedullin and Arridi ears, she turned to him, a little anxiously.

'So, Halt, how did I do?'

Like all of them, she thought, she wanted Halt's approval above all else. He turned that grim, bearded face on her and shook his head slowly.

'Lord forgive me, I've created a monster,' he said. Then he smiled and patted her hand gently. 'And I'm very proud of you.'

Will and Halt sat facing each other, on either side of the plain wooden table in Halt's cabin on the edge of the woods.

For the fifth time in the past few minutes, Will glanced down to make sure his uniform was clean and neat, the leather of his belt and double scabbard waxed and shining. As unobtrusively as he could, he reached up and smoothed his hair. Then he checked his fingernails, making sure that in the forty seconds since he'd last checked them, they hadn't somehow become encrusted with dirt and grease.

'It's not a fashion parade,' Halt said. He seemed totally at ease. But then, Halt always seemed at ease. Will, on the other hand, was nervous as a cat. There was one thing he was grateful for and that was that he didn't have to wear the new formal uniform that Crowley had devised for Halt's wedding. Tradition said that apprentices wore their normal everyday uniform for Graduation Day. Will doubted that he could have kept the white silk shirt and the fine leather tunic clean on such a day. By now, he would surely have spilled something on himself.

'Wonder what's keeping Crowley?' Halt said idly. And, as if on cue, they heard footsteps on the small verandah at the front of the cabin. The door opened suddenly and Crowley bustled in, head down, a leather folder tucked under his arm.

'Right! Right! Sorry to keep you waiting! Got held up on the way but here I am at last, eh?'

At the sudden appearance of the Corps Commandant, Will had jerked up out of his seat to stand to attention. Now he wondered why, since he had never before felt it necessary to do so in Crowley's presence. Crowley looked at him, a little puzzled, and motioned him back into his seat.

'Sit down, Will, there's a good fellow. We don't stand on ceremony too much, you know.'

'Yes, sir,' said Will.

Halt raised an eyebrow to Crowley. 'He's never called me sir,' he said.