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Majesty’s attention,’ Oscagne promised.

      ‘Soon, friend Oscagne,’ Tikume recommended. ‘Very soon.’

      ‘She’s a highly-skilled warrior, Sparhawk-Knight,’ Engessa was saying the following morning as the two sat by a small fire.

      ‘Granted,’ Sparhawk replied, ‘but by your own traditions, she’s still a child.’

      ‘That’s why it’s my place to negotiate for her,’ Engessa pointed out. ‘If she were adult, she would do it herself. Children sometimes do not know their own worth.’

      ‘But a child cannot be as valuable as an adult.’

      ‘That’s not always entirely true, Sparhawk-Knight. The younger a woman, the greater her price.’

      ‘Oh, this is absurd,’ Ehlana broke in. The negotiations were of a delicate nature and would normally have taken place in private. ‘Normally’, however, did not always apply to Sparhawk’s wife. ‘Your offer’s completely unacceptable, Sparhawk.’

      ‘Whose side are you on, dear?’ he asked her mildly.

      ‘Mirtai’s my friend. I won’t permit you to insult her. Ten horses indeed! I could get that much for Talen.’

      ‘Were you planning to sell him too?’

      ‘I was just illustrating a point.’

      Sir Tynian had also stopped by. Of all of their group, he was closest to Kring, and he keenly felt the responsibilities of friendship. ‘What sort of offer would your Majesty consider properly respectful?’ he asked Ehlana.

      ‘Not a horse less than sixty,’ she declared adamantly.

      ‘Sixty!’ Tynian exclaimed. ‘You’ll impoverish him! What kind of a life will Mirtai have if you marry her off to a pauper?’

      ‘Kring’s hardly a pauper, Sir Knight,’ she retorted. ‘He still has all that gold King Soros paid him for those Zemoch ears.’

      ‘But that’s not his gold, your Majesty,’ Tynian pointed out. ‘It belongs to his people.’

      Sparhawk smiled and motioned with his head to Engessa. Unobtrusively, the two stepped away from the fire. ‘I’d guess that they’ll settle on thirty, Atan Engessa,’ he tentatively suggested.

      ‘Most probably,’ Engessa agreed.

      ‘It seems like a fair number to me. Doesn’t it to you?’ It hovered sort of on the verge of an offer.

      ‘It’s more or less what I had in mind, Sparhawk-Knight.’

      ‘Me too. Done then?’

      ‘Done.’ The two of them clasped hands. ‘Should we tell them?’ the Atan asked, the faintest hint of a smile touching his face.

      ‘They’re having a lot of fun,’ Sparhawk grinned. ‘Why don’t we let them play it out? We can find out how close our guess was. Besides, these negotiations are very important to Kring and Mirtai. If we were to agree in just a few minutes, it might make them feel cheapened.’

      ‘You have been much in the world, Sparhawk-Knight.’ Engessa observed. ‘You know well the hearts of men – and of women.’

      ‘No man ever truly knows the heart of a woman, Engessa-Atan,’ Sparhawk replied ruefully.

      The negotiations between Tynian and Ehlana had reached the tragic stage, each of them accusing the other of ripping out hearts and similar extravagances. Ehlana’s performance was masterful. The Queen of Elenia had a strong flair for histrionics, and she was a highly skilled orator. She extemporised at length upon Sir Tynian’s disgraceful niggardliness, her voice rising and falling in majestic cadences. Tynian, on the other hand, was coolly rational, although he too became emotional at times.

      Kring and Mirtai sat holding hands not far away, their eyes filled with concern as they hung breathlessly on every word. Tikume’s Peloi encircled the haggling pair, straining to hear.

      It went on for hours, and it was nearly sunset when Ehlana and Tynian finally reached a grudging agreement – thirty horses – and concluded the bargain by spitting in their hands and smacking their palms together. Sparhawk and Engessa formalised the agreement in the same fashion, and a tumultuous cheer went up from the rapt Peloi. It had been a highly entertaining day all round, and that evening’s celebration was loud and long.

      ‘I’m exhausted,’ Ehlana confessed to her husband after they had retired to their tent for the night.

      ‘Poor dear,’ Sparhawk commiserated.

      ‘I had to step in, though. You were just being too meek, Sparhawk. You’d have given her away. It’s a good thing I was there. You’d never have managed to reach that kind of agreement.’

      ‘I was on the other side, Ehlana, remember?’

      ‘That’s what I don’t understand, Sparhawk. How could you treat poor Mirtai so disgracefully?’

      ‘Rules of the game, love. I was representing Kring.’

      ‘I’m still very disappointed in you, Sparhawk.’

      ‘Well, fortunately, you and Tynian were there to get it all done properly. Engessa and I couldn’t have done half so well.’

      ‘It did turn out rather well, didn’t it – even though it took us all day.’

      ‘You were brilliant, my love, absolutely brilliant.’

      ‘I’ve been in some very shabby places in my life, Sparhawk,’ Stragen said the next morning, ‘but Pela’s the absolute worst. It’s been abandoned several times, did you know that? Maybe abandoned isn’t the right word. “Moved” is probably closer to the truth. Pela exists wherever the Peloi establish their summer encampment.’

      ‘I’d imagine that sends the map-makers into hysterics.’

      ‘More than likely. It’s a temporary town, but it absolutely reeks of money. It takes a great deal of ready cash to buy a cattle-herd.’

      ‘Were you able to make contact with the local thieves?’

      ‘They contacted us actually,’ Talen grinned. ‘A boy no more than eight lifted Stragen’s purse. He’s very good – except that he doesn’t run very well. I caught him within fifty yards. After we’d explained who we were, he was very happy to take us to see the man in charge.’

      ‘Has the thieves’ council made any decision as yet?’ Sparhawk asked Stragen.

      ‘They’re still mulling it over,’ Stragen replied. ‘They’re a bit conservative here in Daresia. The notion of co-operating with the authorities strikes them as immoral for some reason. I sort of expect an answer when we get to Sarsos. The thieves of Sarsos carry a great deal of weight in the empire. Did anything meaningful happen while we were gone?’

      ‘Kring and Mirtai got betrothed.’

      ‘That was quick. I’ll have to congratulate them.’

      ‘Why don’t you two get some sleep,’ Sparhawk suggested. ‘We’ll be leaving for Sarsos tomorrow. Tikume’s going to ride along with us to the edge of the steppes. I think he’d like to go a bit farther, but the Styrics at Sarsos make him nervous.’ He rose to his feet. ‘Get some sleep,’ he told them. ‘I want to go have a talk with Oscagne.’

      The Peloi encampment was quiet. It was early summer now, and the midday heat kept the nomads inside their tents. Sparhawk walked across the hard-packed earth toward the tent shared by Ambassador Oscagne and Patriarch Emban. His chain-mail jingled as he walked. Since they were in a secure encampment, the knights had decided to forego the discomfort of their formal armour.

      He found them sitting beneath a canopy at the side of their tent eating a melon.

      ‘Well-met, Sir Knight,’ Oscagne said as the

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