King Duncan steered his way towards Halt and Pauline, Cassandra moving lightly in time with him.
'Halt? Any idea what's going on?' he said out of the corner of his mouth.
'Will's finding out now, your majesty,' Halt replied and the King nodded, satisfied.
'Keep me informed,' he said and he and Cassandra circled away. They were replaced by Arald and Sandra, as the Baron ploughed through the crowded dancers. Whereas Duncan and Cassandra had circled gracefully, Baron Arald took a direct route, rather like a purple, blue and gold battle-horse. Regretfully, Lady Sandra had never been able to pass on the finer points of the dancer's art to her husband.
'Halt?' he said as they approached.
'Will's checking, sir,' Halt told him and the Baron nodded.
'Good. Keep me informed.'
He and his wife moved off. Halt glanced quizzically at his partner, having to look up slightly to do so. Pauline was tall for a woman.
'As soon as I know anything myself,' he said.
As they reached the entrance to the hall, Alyss stopped and turned Will towards her.
'Perhaps I should go back to the table,' she said. 'This Svengal doesn't know me and he might feel more comfortable talking if there are no strangers present.'
As a Courier, her instincts for intrigue were finely honed and Will sensed she was right. There was obviously something out of the ordinary going on. Svengal's abrupt appearance proved that. He nodded and briefly took her hand in both of his.
'You could be right,' he said. 'Besides, it will look better if one of us is back at the party.'
He squeezed her hand then released it. She smiled at him, then turned and slipped back through the crowded room. Will watched her go, then turned away towards the small anteroom where Horace had taken their unexpected visitor.
Svengal was slumped wearily on a bench as Will entered.
'Will,' said the Skandian with a tired smile, rising stiffly to shake hands. 'Sorry to barge in at a time like this.'
Will glanced up at Horace. 'What's going on?' he asked. From Svengal's downcast, weary manner, he gathered it was not good news.
Horace shrugged. 'I thought we'd wait for you. Save him saying everything twice. What's going on out there?' He indicated the hall with a quick head gesture.
'It's all back to normal. You got things settled before too many people had a chance to notice. Good work.'
Horace made a small self-deprecating gesture and Will took another look at the Skandian.
'You look just about done in, Svengal. Are you all right?'
Svengal had slumped back onto the bench. He grinned ruefully, easing his aching back. 'I've felt better,' he said. 'I've spent two days and most of last night on one your blasted horses – all the way from Castle Araluen to here. I can hardly move my legs or back.'
'Araluen?' Horace interrupted. 'What were you doing there?'
'We sailed Wolfwind up that same river we took last time. I thought it was the best place to look for you all.' Will and Horace exchanged glances. 'I imagine that set the cat among the pigeons,' Will said. There was a treaty in place between Araluen and Skandia but even so, the unexpected sight of a wolfship so far inland could only have caused alarm.
'We flew Evanlyn's pennant,' Svengal told him. 'We still had it in our flag locker. Is there anything to drink around here?'
Will held up his hands in apology. 'Sorry. You could probably use something to eat as well,' he said.
Svengal nodded several times. 'Yes. That would be good too. Haven't eaten in a while.'
Will called to a page who had been stationed outside the door. The young boy put his head around the door frame, staring curiously at the massive Skandian, who grinned at him.
'Bring us some wine… no, wait!' Will said as the boy began to dart away. The page returned. 'Get us a plate of food as well. A big plate. A platter, in fact. Lots of meat and bread. Don't worry about vegetables or greenery.' He knew that Skandian had a deep-seated contempt for salads as a food source.
'Bring the wine in a flagon,' Horace added. 'Not one of those dainty glasses they're using outside. And hurry!'
'Yes, sirs,' the page said. He raced away.
'So tell us,' Will said, 'what brings you here in the middle of Halt's wedding?'
Svengal shook his head in apology. 'Didn't know about that,' he told them. 'We've been at sea for months now. We need help and you were the only people we thought could give it.'
'We?' Horace asked.
'Erak and me. Well, Erak really. He told me to come here and find you – and Halt.'
'So he's still in Hallasholm, I take it?' Will said.
He was aware that Erak had turned his ship over to Svengal when he had assumed the office of Oberjarl. But Svengal shook his head.
'Arrida,' he told them. 'He's been captured by the Arridi and they're holding him to ransom.'
'What?' Will's voice rose to a higher pitch than he'd intended. He paused and composed himself. 'What the devil is he doing in Arrida?'
'We were raiding,' Svengal explained. 'He was bored with sitting around talking to Borsa all day.'
'I can imagine,' Will put in. He still harboured resentment for the Skandian hilfmann, who had assigned him to life as a yard slave – an almost certain death sentence in the bitter Skandian winter.
'Get over it,' Horace told him and jerked a thumb at Svengal. 'Let's hear the story.'
But the page chose that moment to return with a platter loaded with chicken legs, pork chops and a small mutton leg. There was also a tankard of wine on the tray that he set down. Svengal looked greedily at the food and drink.
'Oh, go ahead,' Horace told him.
Svengal drank a third of the wine in one draught, then grabbed the mutton and tore off enough to feed a small family with his teeth. He chewed and swallowed for a few moments, his eyes closed blissfully as the food and drink sent energy coursing through him.
'He was hungry,' Will muttered. Svengal said he'd been riding for two days – not a popular way of travelling for Skandians. It was becoming obvious that he hadn't stopped to eat. The sea wolf swallowed a last piece of mutton and took another gigantic gulp of wine. He wiped grease and wine from his whiskers with the back of one massive hand, then let go a belch loud enough to wake the dead.
'I take it he likes our food,' Horace said. Will rolled his eyes impatiently.
'Svengal,' he said, 'get on with it. How did Erak get himself captured? And how did you get away? What in God's name were you doing in Arrida? And – '
Svengal held up a grease-smeared hand. 'Hey, two or three questions at a time, all right? Look, Erak was bored. He wanted to go to sea again. So he decided to go on one last raid.' He paused, considering. 'Well, he said it would be his last but I doubt it. I reckon he – '
'Get on with it!' Will and Horace chorused together.
'Oh… yeah, sorry. Well, we planned a raid.'
'In Arrida?' Horace said incredulously and Svengal looked at him, an injured look on his face.
'Yes. In Arrida. After all, we're not allowed to raid here these days, are we? We have to go further afield.'
Will and Horace exchanged glances. 'I suppose that's our fault,' Will said. 'Go on, Svengal.'
'Anyway, we planned to hit a town called Al Shabah. It's a trading town where they provision ships and we figured – well, Erak figured – there'd be a lot of money there. You see – '
'Svengal,' Will said, 'I'm sure there were excellent reasons for raiding this El Shibah… '
'Al Shabah,' Svengal corrected him, eyeing a chicken leg then reaching for it.
'But just get on with what happened, all right?'
'Well, we landed before dawn and everything seemed deserted. No guards. No lookouts. We made our way into the town and then we realised they'd been waiting for us. There were over a hundred troops in there – frontline troops too. Not the usual amateurs you find in those little towns- They were expecting us. They even knew that Erak was coming. They called him by name, knew he was Oberjarl. Said he was the only one they were interested in.'