'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.