'That's a technicality,' Selethen began in a blustering tone. But he had a sinking feeling. He was being outsmarted. He thought it might be a good tactic to change the subject, then work back to the ransom question later. 'Besides, Yusal's future is yet to be decided,' he said.
'That's a good point,' Halt put in. 'What's going to become of Yusal?'
Selethen gestured towards Umar. 'That's for the Bedullin to decide, I would say. What do you want to do with him, Aseikh Umar?'
Umar shrugged. 'I don't want him. You can have him if you want him.'
Selethen smiled for the first time since this discussion had begun.
'Oh yes, I want him. The man is a killer and a rebel and we have a cell ready and waiting for him in Mararoc. He's been a thorn in our side for longer than I can remember. With him out of the way, the Tualaghi will be a lot easier to handle. As a matter of fact, the Emtikir has been offering a substantial re – '
He stopped himself a fraction of a second too late, realising he had said too much. He feigned a fit of coughing to cover his lapse.
Evanlyn waited till he finished, then tugged at his sleeve, forcing him to make eye contact.
'A substantial "re",' she said, mimicking his hesitation. 'Would that be "reward" that you were going to say?'
'Yes.' The word was forced out from between Selethen's suddenly thin lips.
'Now let me get this straight,' Evanlyn said thoughtfully. 'Who actually captured Yusal? I mean, who actually defeated him?' She looked up at the stars, her brow knitted in thought. Then it cleared and she said happily, 'Oh, I remember! I did! With my little sling!'
'She's right,' Umar said, grinning fiercely. 'If anyone has the right to determine his fate, it's her.'
'So I'd be entitled to that "substantial reward" you mentioned?'
Selethen was in an awkward position. If they had been conducting this discussion at Al Shabah or in Mararoc, he would have had the negotiating advantage that came with a large number of armed men to uphold his argument. But the only large force here was Bedullin – and their leader seemed to be in agreement with Evanlyn. On top of that, the Wakir admitted, there was a certain validity to all her claims. He hadn't been holding Erak when the Skandian was rescued – and the Araluan Princess was the one who had brought Yusal down. Technically, the Tualaghi war leader was her prisoner. Technically, she owed Selethen nothing and he owed her the reward. This wasn't how he'd planned things, he thought.
'All right, let's get down to it,' said Evanlyn, dropping the little girl act and suddenly becoming all business. 'Selethen, I believe we do owe you something. But not sixty-six thousand reels. And we definitely owe Umar and the Bedullin something because, without them, Erak would still be Yusal's captive.'
'We didn't do it for money. We did it for friendship,' Umar said, indicating Will when he mentioned friendship. Evanlyn nodded acknowledgement.
'You can always give it back if you like,' she said and, as Umar hastened to make a negative gesture, she smiled. 'So here's the offer: I'm willing to pay Umar and his people twenty thousand reels for their help.'
She paused, taking in the looks of agreement and approval around the fire. It was a fair sum. She went on:
'I'll pay the same amount to you, Selethen. Twenty thousand. I think you're owed something.' Before the Wakir could say anything, she added, 'And I'll forego the "substantial reward" for Yusal. You can have him. Keep him. Cut off his ears. Drop him down a well if you like. I don't want him. Is that fair?'
Selethen hesitated, then his own sense of justice cut in. The offer was effectively more than forty thousand. She could offer nothing and get away with it.
'It's fair. I accept gratefully,' he said.
Erak nodded his approval too. He thought Evanlyn had handled the entire matter with great statesmanship. Stateswomanship, he corrected himself.
'You're very generous, Princess,' he said, smiling indulgently at her. Evanlyn looked at him, one eyebrow raised.
'No, I'm not,' she said. 'You are. You're repaying the forty thousand to my father, remember?'
'Oh, yes… of course,' Erak said. He felt a stabbing sensation in his heart. Skandians often had that sensation when they lost money. Suddenly he didn't feel like smiling any more.
***
The meeting broke up shortly after that and Evanlyn strolled back to her tent, her hand resting lightly on Halts arm. When they were out of earshot of both Bedullin and Arridi ears, she turned to him, a little anxiously.
'So, Halt, how did I do?'
Like all of them, she thought, she wanted Halt's approval above all else. He turned that grim, bearded face on her and shook his head slowly.
'Lord forgive me, I've created a monster,' he said. Then he smiled and patted her hand gently. 'And I'm very proud of you.'
Epilogue
Will and Halt sat facing each other, on either side of the plain wooden table in Halt's cabin on the edge of the woods.
For the fifth time in the past few minutes, Will glanced down to make sure his uniform was clean and neat, the leather of his belt and double scabbard waxed and shining. As unobtrusively as he could, he reached up and smoothed his hair. Then he checked his fingernails, making sure that in the forty seconds since he'd last checked them, they hadn't somehow become encrusted with dirt and grease.
'It's not a fashion parade,' Halt said. He seemed totally at ease. But then, Halt always seemed at ease. Will, on the other hand, was nervous as a cat. There was one thing he was grateful for and that was that he didn't have to wear the new formal uniform that Crowley had devised for Halt's wedding. Tradition said that apprentices wore their normal everyday uniform for Graduation Day. Will doubted that he could have kept the white silk shirt and the fine leather tunic clean on such a day. By now, he would surely have spilled something on himself.
'Wonder what's keeping Crowley?' Halt said idly. And, as if on cue, they heard footsteps on the small verandah at the front of the cabin. The door opened suddenly and Crowley bustled in, head down, a leather folder tucked under his arm.
'Right! Right! Sorry to keep you waiting! Got held up on the way but here I am at last, eh?'
At the sudden appearance of the Corps Commandant, Will had jerked up out of his seat to stand to attention. Now he wondered why, since he had never before felt it necessary to do so in Crowley's presence. Crowley looked at him, a little puzzled, and motioned him back into his seat.
'Sit down, Will, there's a good fellow. We don't stand on ceremony too much, you know.'
'Yes, sir,' said Will.
Halt raised an eyebrow to Crowley. 'He's never called me sir,' he said.
Crowley shrugged. 'Probably trying to get on my good side. Make sure I don't change my mind and have him study for another year before graduation.'
Halt nodded sagely. 'That could be it.'
Will glanced from one to the other, nervously wetting his lips. He wasn't sure what he'd expected of Graduation Day. He had assumed there would be more of a ceremony. More of a sense of occasion. But then, as Crowley had said, they were Rangers. Maybe Graduation Day was like any other day. Except you graduated.
Crowley pulled another chair to the table and sat, spilling papers out of the leather folder, taking out a quill pen and a sealed ink well. He uncorked the ink and began flicking through the pages, muttering to himself as he read the official forms.
'Right! Let's get on with it! All right… you… Will… have trained as apprentice to Ranger Halt of Redmont Fief these last five twelve-months and blah blah blah and so on and so on. You've shown the necessary level of proficiency in the use of the weapons a Ranger uses – the longbow, the saxe knife, the throwing knife.'
He paused and glanced up at Halt. 'He has shown that proficiency, hasn't he? Of course he has,' he went on, before Halt could answer. 'Furthermore, you are a trusted officer in the service of the King and so on and so on and hi diddle diddle dee dee… ' He glanced up again. 'These forms really carry on a bit, don't they? But I have to make a pretence
of reading them. And so forth and so on and such like.' He paused, nodded several times, then continued.
'So basically… ' He flicked a few more pages, found the one he was after and then continued, 'You are in all ways ready to assume the position and authority of a fully operational Ranger in the Kingdom of Araluen. Correct?'
He glanced up again, his eyebrows raised. Will realised he was waiting for an answer.
'Correct,' he said hastily, then in case that wasn't enough, he added, 'Yes. I mean… I do… I am. Yes.'
'Well, good for you. So… one other detail. You know we need to give you more of a title than Ranger Will because there are three other Wills in the Corps., It's not a problem that applies to Halt, of course, because there's only one Halt. Normally we'd use your family name but you were an orphan. So in your case, we looked for a name that reflected your achievements over the past five years. We looked at Will Boar Killer.' He made a move of distaste. 'Didn't like that. Someone suggested Will o' the Bridge to commemorate the destruction of Morgarath's bridge. But it sounded too much like Will o' the wisp so we let that one go as well.
'Finally, your mentor,' he nodded to Halt, 'suggested a name that had to do with one of your most meaningful contributions to the Kingdom. He pointed out that you were one of those instrumental in the creation of the treaty between Araluen and Skandia – a very important milestone in our country's history. So the suggestion is that you be known from now on as Will Treaty. How does that suit?'
Will nodded slowly. 'I like that very much. Thank you, Crowley… sir,' he amended, feeling the occasion required formality.
'Excellent! So Will Treaty you shall be!' Crowley wrote the name at the bottom of a form and swung it round to face Will, handing him the quill pen. 'Just sign there at the bottom and we're done.'
He watched as Will scratched his signature at the bottom of the parchment form, then slapped his hands on the table top in satisfaction.
'There, all done! Congratulations, Will, you're a Ranger now. Well done! Is there anything to drink?' He addressed the last part to Halt.
Will sat stunned. That was it? He'd expected… he didn't know what he'd expected but he certainly hadn't expected this breezy, off-the-cuff 'Sign here and you're a Ranger' approach.
'Is that all?' he blurted out.
Crowley and Halt exchanged slightly puzzled glances. Then Crowley pursed his lips thoughtfully.
'Um… it seems to be… Listed your training, mentioned a few achievements, made sure you know which end of an arrow is the sharp part… decided on your new name… I think that's… ' Then it seemed that understanding dawned on him and his eyes opened wide.
'Of course! You have to have your Silver… whatsis, don't you?' he took hold of the chain that held his own Silver Oakleaf around his throat and shook it lightly. It was the badge of a fully fledged Ranger. Then he began to search through his pockets, frowning.
'Had it here! Had it here! Where the devil is it… wait. I heard something fall on the boards as I came in! Must have dropped it. Just check outside the front door, will you, Will?,
Too stunned to talk, Will rose and went to the door. As he set his hand on the latch, he looked back at the two Rangers, still seated at the table. Crowley made a small shooing motion with the back of his hand, urging him to go outside. Will was. still looking back, at them when he opened the door and stepped through onto the verandah.
'CONGRATULATIONS!'
The massive cry went up from at least forty throats. He swung round in shock to find all his friends gathered in the clearing outside, around a table laid for a feast, their faces beaming with smiles. Baron Arald, Sir Rodney, Lady Pauline and Master Chubb were all there. So were Jenny and George, his former wardmates. There were a dozen others in the Ranger uniform – men he had met and worked with over the past five years. And wonder of wonders, there were Erak and Svengal, bellowing his name and waving their huge axes overhead in his praise. Close by them stood Horace and Gilan, both brandishing their swords overhead as well. It looked like a dangerous section of the crowd to be in, Will thought.
After the first concerted shout, people began cheering and calling his name, laughing and waving to him.
Halt and Crowley joined him on the verandah. The Commandant was doubled over with laughter.
'Oh, if you could have seen yourself!' he wheezed. 'Your face! Your face! It was priceless! "Is that all?" ' He mimicked Will's plaintive tones and doubled over again.
Will turned to Halt accusingly. His teacher grinned at him.
'Your face was a study,' he said.
'Do you do that to all apprentices?' Will asked.
Halt nodded vigorously. 'Every one. Stops them getting a swelled head at the last minute. You have to swear never to let an apprentice in on the secret.'
He touched Will's sleeve and pointed.
'But only the luckiest, or the best, get this.'
Will looked in the direction he indicated and felt a lump rise to his throat. Side by side, Alyss and Evanlyn were walking slowly across the clearing towards him, carrying a small red satin cushion between them.
Alyss, tall, poised, ash blonde and beautiful in her elegant Courier's robe.
Evanlyn, tomboyish, grinning, honey blonde and beautiful in her own way.
And on the cushion between them, gleaming in the errant rays of the late afternoon sun that found its way through the trees, lay a simple, silver oakleaf amulet on a chain – symbol of everything Will had been striving for in the past five years. Now his.
The two girls lifted it from the cushion and together, draped it over his bowed head while the assembled crowd cheered themselves hoarse. Then, driven by the same impulse, they kissed him – Alyss on the left cheek, Evanlyn on the right.
And then glared daggers at each other.
'Let's get this party started!' said Crowley hurriedly. And catching Will by the arm, he drew him down to the group of friends waiting to congratulate him.
***
It was a party that would go down in the annals of Castle Redmont. The last guests were still celebrating as the sun began to rise. Will and Horace, his oldest friend, sat on the little verandah watching the last dancers stagger out of the clearing and head for home.
'Do you feel like a Ranger at last?' Horace asked him.
Will shook his head ruefully. 'I feel absolutely overwhelmed by the whole thing,' he said. Then, after a few seconds, he confided, 'You know, a few weeks back, I didn't think I was ready for this.'
'And now?' Horace prompted.
'Now I know that if you wait till you think you are ready, you'll wait all your life.'
The young knight nodded. 'I couldn't have put it better,' he said. 'That's exactly how I felt when we came back from Skandia and Duncan knighted me. "I'm not ready", I kept wanting to say.'
'But you were,' Will said.
Horace nodded. 'Yes. Maybe our teachers do know what they're doing, after all. Halt thinks the world of you, you know. When we were in prison in Maashava, he knew you'd turn up to get us out. He must have been proud to see you graduate today. Following in his footsteps.'
'They're big footsteps to follow in,' Will said. 'I guess that's why I thought I wasn't ready. I knew I'd never be as wise or as capable or as courageous as Halt. I could never be like him. Crowley said it today: there's only one Halt.'
Horace looked at him very seriously, appraising him, thinking of all he had learned about this remarkable young man in the past five years.
'You may not ever be exactly like him,' he said. 'But there won't be a lot in it.'
Then the two friends leaned back and watched the sun rise clear of the trees.
'Best time of the day,' said Will.
'Yes,' Horace agreed. 'What's for breakfast?'
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Erak_s ransom ra-7 Page 34
