The Heart's Call: Part III

"Alright. Now, how much ransom are you going to charge them for the boy?"

Dhugal sat back and waited for the brothers to arrive at a sum to be added to the note. While they bickered, the Scotsman risked a glance over to where the Blackthorn boy sat. From this distance, he looked none the worse for wear, but he did seem a bit distracted. That could be a problem; the boy would need a clear head shortly.

"Tell them we want fifty gold coins!" Madoc jabbed a finger at the ransom note, and Bryn nodded agreement.

Dhugal looked from one to the other. "Fifty gold? Are y' sure?"

"Right! Fifty!" Madoc tugged at his ear. "Why? Is that too much to ask for? Bryn and me, we figure they're nobles, they can afford it, right?"

"Um. Aye, I can see tha', bein' as how he's th' Guardian's son an' all, umm, aye…fifty gold." Dhugal could barely keep a straight face as he added the figure to the message. Madoc leaned over to watch.

"You don't write the same way you talk, do you? I mean, what good is a ransom note if no one can understand it?"

"Take m' word f' it, they'll oonderstand it." Dhugal looked up again. "And how should I sign it for you?"

"I hadn't thought of that, Madoc? How should we sign it?" Bryn's brows knit in concentration as he pondered. "Can't use our names, can we?"

"How about, 'A Friend'?" Dhugal offered helpfully.

Madoc nodded. "Good! That'll puzzle them. Alright, read what it says to us. There's five gold pieces in it for you if it's done right, after we get our money, of course."

"O' course. Very kind o' you." Dhugal spread the parchment flat and ran a gloved finger slightly above each line as he read.

`Blackthorns,
We have your tall son. If you want to see him alive and not hurt,
then you have to do what we tell you to do.
When we get our money, we'll tell you where he is.
Tell no one.
Leave fifty gold coins in a flour sack under the wagon outside the old O'Donnell's warehouse tomorrow night.
A Friend'

"Is tha' wha' you wanted?"

"Good work! He did that real proper, didn't he, Bryn!"

"Aye, that he did, Madoc. But Madoc, what if they move the wagon tomorrow morning?"

Dhugal interrupted before the brothers got lost in heated discussion. "How do you plan to deliver the note?"

The question was greeted with silence. As the two Welshman looked other, Dhugal has the sudden perception that they'd not thought of that yet Then Bryn grinned.

"Ill tie it to an arrow and shoot the note into the gate of the castle."

"Y' tha' guid an archer?"

"Well, if I get close enough, I can hit it! Do you think we should one of his fingers or an ear as proof?"

"Tha' may nae be wise. Seems t' me tha' might rile oop tha' Captain an' his wife, an' I hear they hae bonnie tempers. Besides, it'd weigh doon th' arrow, would it nae?" Dhugal handed the note to Madoc, then reached across the rickety table for a clay bottle and uncorked it. "Damn, writin' is thirsty work, it is." He took a swig of hard cider and handed the bottle Madoc. "So, y' gang t' hide oot here f' anoother day? Tha' could be dreary, I'd say, except y' hae a bard in th' makin' here wi' us. Hey boy! Tell us a story!"

The Welshman took a long swallow and then passed the liquor on to his brother. "Yes, I heard you sing once. Didn't bring your harp with you, did you? Well, go on, tell us a story then!"

They looked at the elf and waited.

*********

Shane had been rather preoccupied when Bryn had returned with a new accomplice. He still felt as though Arista was in the same room as he and several times he could have sworn he heard his sister's voice nearby. But when several quick glances around the room proved that not to be the case, he chalked it up once more to the blow to his head.

Then he'd heard someone speaking with a thick Scottish burr and looked up with surprise to see the man who'd been with Tyralor earlier. Was McDougal part of this after all? He sat and watched silently as the trio worked out the wording for the note, but after a time, he'd stopped paying attention as he tried to work out some way to escape. So it was he didn't hear the demand for a story until Madoc seconded Dhugal's first request. He looked up and ran his tongue over dry lips. "Could I have a drink? My throat is dry."

Madoc started across with the cider, but Dhugal put out a hand to stop him. "Cider will nae do. He's just a pup, he'll be pukin' all aboot th' place. I've soome water." He unhooked a small clay water bottle from his swordbelt and walked over to crouch by Shane so that his back was turned to the brothers. "Here! Dinnae drink too much, o' too fast." He passed the bottle to the boy and then leaned closer.

"Tell them a story, boy, and make it a long one, but not too exciting, heh?" Then he drew back the bottle, stood, and walked back to the brothers.

Shane fought hard to keep his mouth from dropping open with amazement. The Scotsman's voice had been accentless as he'd whispered. But he gathered his wits and nodded slowly. "What story would you like to hear?"

"Dragons!" Bryn smiled as if he were one of Shane's younger brothers. "Something with dragons!"

"Dragons it is then." Shane closed his eyes briefly, running through his mind the stories Ashe had taught him. And then he heard it: Ari's voice, singing somewhere, and the song was one based on a story Ashe had told them all one day as they sat in the woods. He took a deep breath, and began to speak. "I will tell of the Dragon's Tear."

"Long and long ago, "he began….