For a moment, Evanlyn fought an overwhelming urge to giggle as she wondered what he'd do if she took him literally and hopped up to sit on his knee on the massive carved chair. She struggled to keep a straight face, realising that the urge was a reaction to her nervousness. Her hesitation served her well, however, as the Wakir took it as a further sign of her displeasure. He rose from his chair. Will had to hide a smile as he saw how awkward this movement was. The short-legged Arridi ruler had to skid his behind forward to the edge of the seat, then virtually drop to the floor.
Having been shorter than most of those around him all his life, Will enjoyed seeing someone else struggling with the problem.
'Sit, your highness, please!' he repeated and Evanlyn nodded her consent, moved to a richly upholstered bench that Selethen placed before her and sat gracefully. The Wakir nodded. He climbed back aboard his seat, wriggling his backside again to get into position, cast another sideways glance, then licked his lips nervously. Evanlyn thought she might as well take charge of matters.
'We've come to discuss the ransom of our friend Erak, Oberjarl of Skandia,' she said. Her voice was high and clear. 'We understand you have set a sum for this?'
'We have,' the Wakir replied. 'The sum required is ... ' Again he hesitated and again there was that sideways shift of the eyes. Evanlyn frowned. The man seemed very unsure of himself, she thought. Then he continued. 'Eighty thousand reels of silver.' There was a renewed tone of confidence in his voice now that he spoke the figure, as if it had just been confirmed for him.
Evanlyn shook her head. 'Too high,' she said firmly. The Wakir jerked back in his seat in surprise.
'Too high?' he repeated and Evanlyn nodded. She was conscious of Anthony's briefing on this matter. They'll expect you to bargain, he had said. It's a virtual insult if you don't.
'We're offering fifty thousand,' Evanlyn told him calmly. The Wakir's hands flew about his head in an agitated fashion.
'Fifty thousand? But that's ... ' He hesitated and Evanlyn finished for him.
'Our offer.'
The Wakir's hand played with his chin, tugging at the loose flesh below it. His eyes took on a crafty look.
'All very well to offer such a low price, your highness. But how do I know you are capable of paying even that much? How do I know you are authorised?'
'You have my seal,' Evanlyn said simply. She had seen the seal box that she had returned to Selethen the previous day. It was sitting on a side table beside the Wakir's chair. He looked at it now, picked it up and opened the hinged top.,
'Aaah, yes. Your seal,' he said, studying it.
'It identifies me as the Princess Cassandra of Araluen,' Evanlyn replied and Halt, listening intently, detected the slightest note of suspicion in her voice.
Again the Wakir fingered his chin.
'So you say. But this seal, of course, could belong to ... ' He looked around the room, waved his hand indefinitely and finished, ' ... anybody.'
Evanlyn sat back on her bench for a few seconds, her mind racing. She' knew that countries kept a register of official seals and she knew that Arrida was on the list of countries with which Araluen had exchanged such information. Before she had left Araluen, Duncan and Anthony had assured her that in the last exchange, some six months prior, her seal had been included with Duncan's as a matter of course. The Wakir should know that. If he didn't, it could mean only one thing ...
Abruptly, she rose from her chair and turned to her five waiting companions.
'Let's go,' she said crisply.
She didn't hesitate, but strode decisively through them. They hurried to follow in her wake, her boot heels loud on the tiled floor. Behind them, there was a buzz of activity on the dais. Will glanced back and saw the 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?'
* * *
Chapter 18
* * *
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.'
* * *
Chapter 19
* * *
'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.
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