Erak_s ransom

'He's a Skandian. But he's nothing like me.'

Selethen nodded, accepting the distinction. Svengal's anger, matching his own, was possibly the most convincing aspect of Halt's argument. But Selethen had seen a flaw.

'If this Toshak wants your leader out of the way, why bother to have him captured and abducted? Why not simply kill him with the rest of these people?'

But Halt was already shaking his head before Selethen finished voicing the question, as if he had foreseen it.

'He needs time,' he replied instantly. 'I said his group is a small one. Most Skandians are content with Erak as their Oberjarl. So Toshak and his friends need time to build resentment and uncertainty. A dead Oberiarl wouldn't serve their purposes. The other Skandians would simply elect a new one straight away – probably one of Erak's friends. Maybe even Svengal here.'

'Gods forbid that,' Svengal said earnestly. Halt allowed himself a grim smile at the big Skandian.

'But if Erak is missing, held prisoner somewhere – and it can be claimed to be the result of his own incompetence then Toshak and his group can start a whispering campaign to get people doubting his ability, and his suitability to be their leader. Particularly if, at the same time, his captors are demanding a large ransom from the Skandians. Skandians don't like that sort of thing.'

'Indeed we don't,' Svengal agreed. 'That's why the chief told me to go to Araluen for help in the first place.'

Selethen looked around the group and nodded. He was still unconvinced. But he had wondered why Svengal had returned with a group of foreigners to pay the ransom. So far, the only reason he had been given was that Erak was a friend of the Araluans. Now he could see a more plausible explanation for their involvement. A quick resolution to the problem would act in Erak's favour. The more the situation was dragged out, the more opportunity there would be for his enemies to sow dissent among his countrymen.

'Given enough time, the dissenters could create the right conditions to put forward their own candidate as Oberjarl – probably Toshak himself,' Halt said. This time Svengal's only comment was a low growl of anger at the idea.

Selethen paced back and forth, stroking his beard with one hand as he considered Halt's arguments. Abruptly, he stopped and turned to Halt again.

'It's possible, I suppose… ' he said. The word 'but' was left hanging, unsaid, in the air by the tone of his voice. Halt waited, determined that he wouldn't be the one to voice the obvious doubt. Like Selethen, he could see another possible explanation for the carnage around them. But before he raised that, Selethen had another question.

'You say your countryman Toshak is behind this. That he betrayed your leader in the first place?' he questioned Svengal. The sea wolf nodded and Selethen continued. 'Yet I have never heard of him. Our informant was a fisherman from a small village down the coast. More of a smuggler than a fisherman, as a matter of fact,' he added. 'He's accustomed to moving unseen through the waters around our coast. He saw your ship and brought word to us.'

Svengal said nothing. But once again Halt had a ready answer.

'You'd hardly negotiate with a Skandian. If Toshak had tried to approach you, he wouldn't have got a word in before the first volley of arrows was on its way. Of course he needed a go-between. And it would have been relatively easy for him to make contact with a smuggler. Chances are, your informant was also the one who sold Erak the false timetable for the money transfers.'

'Yes, that's reasonable, I suppose.' In spite of his words, they could all hear the tone of doubt in Selethen's voice. 'But I keep coming back to another possible explanation for all this.'

He waved his arm distastefully around the scene of death and destruction. Halt waited impassively. Make him say it, he thought. Don't say it for him or you'll give it credibility.

'I agree with you, this could be the work of Skandians – or of Tualaghi in the pay of Skandians. But there's another possible reason why Erak's body isn't here. This was a rescue party. The people who killed my men did it to set Erak free. Even now, he could be heading for the coast and another ship.'

'Do you think we'd willingly put ourselves in your hands if we'd planned that?' Halt asked.

'I think it's exactly the sort of double bluff that you might consider,' Selethen told him. 'You negotiate with me while you organise for another party of Skandians to rescue your friend. If they're successful, you save sixty-six thousand reels. If they're not, you can continue as before, and deny all knowledge of the rescue attempt.'

Halt said nothing for a few seconds. As he had realised before, politics and plotting were very much a part of life in Arrida. And this was exactly the sort of convoluted reasoning that would seem logical to Selethen. He knew that his next words were going to be vital to the success of their mission. While he gathered his thoughts, trying to muster the best possible argument to restore Selethen's trust, Halt stepped forward. As Halt and Selethen and Svengal had been talking, Horace and Evanlyn had edged closer listening. Now the young warrior thought it was time he spoke up.

'One question.' he said. All eyes swung to him. Halt held up a hand to stop him going any further. The subtleties of negotiation, the fine cut and thrust.of complex argument was not the young man's strongest suit. Horace was a straightforward person, with a direct approach to any problem that faced him.

'Horace,' Halt said, a warning tone in his voice, 'this might not be the best time… '

But Horace was holding up his own hand to silence Halt. His face was determined and set in a tight frown. Halt knew he was angered by the suggestion that they had engaged in the sort of underhanded scheme Selethen had described. He didn't need Horace's injured sense of dignity muddying the waters here. But the young man was ploughing ahead, regardless.

'A question for the Wakir,' he said. Evanlyn, beside him, mirrored Halt's worried expression. Horace might be about to put his foot in it, she thought. But Selethen made a gesture for Horace to continue and it was too late.

'Your question is?' he said smoothly.

'How did we know?' Horace asked. His tone was blunt and challenging. Selethen frowned, not understanding immediately.

'How did you know… what?' he asked.

Horace's face was flushed now, partly with indignation but also because he realised that he was the centre of attention. He never enjoyed that. But he felt his point to be a valid one and deserved to be made.

'How did we know that Erak was with this party.'

For a moment, nobody understood. Selethen voiced a confused little gesture with both hands.

'I told you,' he said. Standing back and watching, Halt felt an immense surge of warmth for the warrior. Sometimes, he thought, the direct approach could be far more effective than a long, involved dissertation.

Horace nodded. 'You told us the night before we left Al Shabah. You told us when the negotiations were complete. Not before then. Up until then, you know we believed Erak was being held in Al Shabah. So, in the eight hours we had, how did we organise for this other group of Skandians to dash out into the desert, find the Tualaghi, And bribe them to intercept a caravan we had only just heard of?'

'Well… you could have… ' Selethen hesitated and Horace pressed his advantage.

'And you know that none of us left the guesthouse on that final night. So how did we do it? I mean, Halt's good at these things, but that's beyond even his abilities.'

Halt thought it was time he stepped back in. Horace had made his point and it was a telling one. Now was the time it drive it home, before he blundered.