The Battle for Skandia- Character Reaction

18

"I'll take it next, Thorn." As Crowley was handed the book, he glanced out at the sky. "And I think it's almost time for us to turn in."

AS IT TURNED OUT, THAT TASK WAS A LOT EASIER THAN either Erak or Halt would have thought possible. Everyone raised an eyebrow. Ragnak was many things, but he was no fool. Halt very obviously kept quiet. When the small party returned to Hallasholm, bringing news that an army of close to six thousand Temujai horsemen was in the process of invading his country, he did the same mental arithmetic that Erak had done. Halt snorted. He knew as well as Erak that he could muster a force of no more than fifteen hundred warriors—possibly less, considering that some of the outlying settlements close to the border had probably been overrun and defeated already.

Like most Skandians, Ragnak wasn't afraid of dying in battle. "As long as he doesn't swear another Vallasvow," Cassandra said. But he also didn't believe that one should seek such an end without first trying all other alternatives. If there were a way of defeating the invaders, he would examine it. Consequently, when Erak told him of Halt's knowledge of the Temujai, and his agreement to lend his services, and when Borsa and several other council members welcomed the idea, he accepted their arguments with no more than token resistance. As for the matter of the recaptured slaves, he dismissed the matter entirely. Will let out a sigh of relief. In normal times, he might seek to punish runaways, as a way of discouraging further escapes. Halt and Gilan's hands strayed to their knives. But these weren't normal times, and with an invading army on his doorstep, the matter of two recaptured slaves was of slight interest to him at best.

"At least, for the moment," Horace muttered. Cassandra chuckled.

He did, however, demand to see Halt in his private quarters, with no one else present.

He knew enough about Rangers to respect their abilities and their courage as a group. But he wanted the chance to assess this man as an individual. Gilan raised an eyebrow. Ragnak's ability to form such evaluations of men had been one of his principal qualities as leader of the Skandians. Evidence of his skill was the fact that he habitually chose Erak to handle the more difficult tasks that went with ruling a nation of independent-minded, argumentative warriors.

Erak snorted. "Get someone else to do it," he muttered.

Halt was shown to the low-ceilinged, timber-lined room where Ragnak spent his private hours—and these days, the Oberjarl noted ruefully, there were precious few of those. Erak snorted. The room was like all the senior Skandians' quarters—warmed by a pine log fire, with bearskins furnishing the pinewood- carved furniture, decorated with the polyglot results of years of plundering coastal villages and other ships. The Skandians all grinned.

The centerpiece of the room was an immense crystal chandelier, taken from an abbey on the coast of the Constant Sea years ago. With no high ceiling to hang it from, Ragnak had chosen to leave it resting on a rough pine table. "Still haven't gotten rid of it," Svengal added. Erak rolled his eyes. It dominated the room and was more than a little awkward in the confined space. Furthermore, in its tabletop position it was totally incapable of performing its designed intention. There was no way that the fifty small oil lamps could be lit and kept burning safely.

Halt smirked. "There's a place for fire if you ever need it again, Will." The younger Ranger shook his head in exasperation.

But Ragnak loved the piece. To him, it represented art at its highest. It was an object of rare beauty, incongruous as it might be in this setting, and so he left it there.

"What?" Horace asked.

"Not in harmony or keeping with the surroundings of something," Will put in. Alyss raised an eyebrow, while Pauline hid a smile. Halt muttered something under his breath.