Erak_s ransom

'It's not fair to the men.,' he continued. 'This is the third time it's happened and they're getting tired of your silly games. The sergeant of the guard has asked to see me later today and I know what that's going to be about.' He turned back to face her. 'You've put me in a very difficult situation. I'm going to have to apologise to a sergeant. Do you understand how embarrassing that will be?'

He saw the anger in her face fade a little. 'I'm sorry, Father,' she said. She was matching his formality. Normally, she called him Dad. Today it was Cassandra and Father. 'But it's not a silly game, believe me. It's something I need to do.'

'Why?' he demanded, with some heat. 'You're the Crown Princess, not some silly peasant girl, for pity's sake! You live in a castle with hundreds of troops to protect you! Why do you need to learn how to sneak around in the dark and use a poacher's weapon?'

'Dad,' she said, forgetting the formality, 'think about my life so far. I've been pursued by Wargals in Celtica. My escorts were killed and I barely escaped with my life. Then I was captured by Morgarath's army. I was dragged off to Skandia, where l had to survive in the mountains. I could have starved there. After that, I was involved in a full-scale battle. Those hundreds of guards didn't exactly keep me safe then, did they?'

Duncan made an irritated gesture. 'Well, perhaps not. But – '

'Let's face it,' Cassandra went on, 'it's a dangerous world and, as Crown Princess, I'm a target for our enemies. I want to be able to defend myself. I don't want to have to rely on other people. Besides… ' She hesitated and he studied her more closely.

'Besides?' he queried. Cassandra seemed to consider whether she should say more. Then she took a deep breath, and plunged in.

'As your daughter, there's going to come a time when I should be able to help you – to share some of your load.'

'But you do that! The banquet last week was a triumph… '

She made a dismissive gesture with her hands. 'I don't mean banquets and state occasions and picnics in the park. I mean the important things – going on diplomatic missions in your name, acting as your representative when there are disputes to be settled. The sort of thing you'd expect a son to do for you.'

'But you're not my son,' Duncan said.

Cassandra smiled a little sadly. She knew her father loved her. But she also knew that a king, any king, hoped for a son to carry on his work.

'Dad, one day I'll be Queen. Not too soon, I hope,' she added hastily and Duncan smiled his agreement with the sentiment. 'But when I am, I'll have to do these things and it'll be a little late to start learning at that point.'

Duncan studied her for a long moment. Cassandra was strong willed, he knew. She was brave and capable and intelligent. There was no way she would be content to be a figurehead ruler, letting others make the decisions and do the hard work.

'You're right, I suppose,' he said eventually. 'You should learn to look after yourself. But Sir Richard has been teaching you the sabre. Why bother with the sling – and why learn to sneak around unseen?'

It wasn't uncommon for highborn young ladies to study swordsmanship. Cassandra had been taking lessons from the Assistant Battlemaster for some months, using a lightweight sabre specially made for her. She turned a pained expression on her father.

'I'm all right with the sabre,' she admitted. 'But I'll never really be an expert and that's what I'd need to be to hold my own against a man with a heavy weapon. It's the same with a bow. It takes years of practice to learn to use that properly and I just don't have the time.

'The sling is a weapon I already know. I learned to use it as a child. It kept me alive in Skandia. I decided that would be my weapon of choice and I'd develop my basic skills until I was really expert.'

'You could do that on a target range. You don't need to terrorise my sentries,' Duncan said.

She smiled apologetically. 'I admit I haven't been fair to them. But Geldon said the best way to practise was to make the situation as real as possible.'

'Geldon?' Duncan's eyebrows slid together in a frown. Geldon was a retired Ranger who had an apartment of rooms in Castle Araluen. Occasionally, he acted as an adviser to Crowley, the Ranger Corps Commandant. Cassandra flushed as she realised she'd given away more than she intended.

'I asked him for a few pointers on unseen movement,' she confessed, then added hurriedly, 'But he didn't know about the sling, I promise.'

'I'll speak to him later,' Duncan said, although he had no doubt she was telling the truth. Geldon wouldn't be fool enough to encourage her in the irresponsible practice sessions she'd devised.

He sat down, breathing deeply for a few seconds to let his anger subside. Then he said in a more reasonable tone, 'Cass, think about it. Your practice sessions could conceivably put you, or the castle itself, in danger.'

She cocked her head to one side, not understanding.

'Now that the sentries know what you're up to, they might just ignore the occasional noise or sign of movement outside the walls. If they were to see some dark figure creeping through the night, they'd assume it was you. And they might be wrong. What if an enemy agent was trying to infiltrate the castle? That could result in a dead sentry. Would you want that on your conscience?'

Cassandra hung her head as she considered what he had said. She realised he was right.

'No,' she said, in a small voice.

'Or the opposite might happen. One of these nights, a sentry might see someone stalking him and not realise it was only the Crown Princess. You could get killed yourself.'

She opened her mouth to protest but he stopped her with a raised hand.

'I know you think you're too skilled for that. But think about it. What would happen to the man who killed you? Would you want him to live with that on his conscience?'

'I suppose not,' she said glumly and he nodded, seeing that the lesson had been learned.

'Then I want you to stop these dangerous games of yours.' Again she went to protest but he rode on over her. 'If you must practise, let Geldon work out a proper plan for you. I'm sure he'd be willing to help and it might be harder to slip by him than a few sleepy sentries.'

Cassandra's face widened in a smile as she realised that far from confiscating her sling, her father had just given his permission for her to continue her weapons practice.

'Thanks, Dad,' she said, the eagerness obvious in her voice. 'I'll get started with him later today.'

But Duncan was already shaking his head.

'There's time for that later. Today I need your help planning a trip – an official trip. I want you to decide who should accompany us. And you'll probably need to have new clothes made as well – proper travelling outfits and formal gowns, not that tunic and tights you're wearing. You say you want to help, so here's your chance. You organise everything.'

She nodded, frowning slightly as she thought over the preparations she'd have to make, the details she'd have to arrange. An official royal trip took a lot of planning and involved a lot of people. She was in for a busy couple of weeks, she realised. But she was glad that his attention had been diverted from his order for her to hand over the sling.

'When are we going?' she asked. 'And where to?' She'd need to know how far they were travelling so she could organise their overnight stops along the way.

'In three weeks time,' the King told her. 'We've been invited to a wedding at Castle Redmont on the fourteenth of next month.'

'Redmont?' she repeated, her interest obviously piqued by the name. 'Who's getting married at Redmont?'