Page 172 of Swordheart
Zale wiggled their hand back and forth. “My inventory is nothing like complete. Based on what I have catalogued so far, I would say at least fifty-three hundred, give or take, including the house. The outlying lands are not included.”
The realization of what Halla was doing sent Sarkis a step forward, hands outstretched. “Halla! No!”
“Fifty-three hundred, then,” said Halla, ignoring him. “There may be more in the outlying lands, but I have recently learned that they were mortgaged without my permission, so I can’t speak to their value. Will that be acceptable?”
“Halla, you can’t do this!”
A small, unworthy part of Sarkis was overcome with relief. She did not hate him. Indeed, she had chased down his captors and was offering everything that she had to get him back.
A much larger part was screaming that yes, she was giving upeverythingshe had—her home, her newly acquired fortune, the future dowries for her nieces that Sarkis had not even met—to buy him back from the scholar.
“Halla,” he said, trying to sound calm. “I’m not worth this. Don’t do this.”
“You’re my friend,” said Halla, not looking at him. Sarkis did not know whether to crow with joy or writhe in shame.
His captor snorted. “Don’t be stupid. A relic of the Sainted Smith is beyond any price.”
“Are you certain?” said Halla.
“Very certain. Quit wasting my time, woman.”
Halla nodded. “I was afraid of that,” she said, a bit sadly. “I really hoped you’d be reasonable.”
She pushed her cloak back and swung the crossbow she’d been concealing up to aim at Nolan.
Oh great god, she’s going to shoot at him.Sarkis didn’t know whether to be amazed, horrified, or both.Can she hit him? Did Zale teach her enough?
Zale was leaning against the doorframe with a polite, interested expression on their face. This did not fill Sarkis with confidence.
Nolan, meanwhile, stared at the bolt, then back at her. “You won’t kill me,” he said.
“I won’t?” said Halla. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“You’re not a killer,” said Nolan, although he sounded a bit doubtful.
“Well, obviously notyet,” said Halla. “But I can start with you, and then I will be. I think that’s how this works, isn’t it?”
Nolan started to back up. Halla made an apologetic sound. “Please don’t move. I’ve never shot at anything but trees, you see, and while my aim’s not bad for an amateur, if you move, I don’t really know where I’ll hit you. It could be anywhere. And then what if it wasn’t fatal?”
“I don’t want it to be fatal!” yelled Nolan.
“Oh, but you do,” said Halla. “You really, really do. Because if I hit you somewhere that doesn’t kill you, but it just hurts a whole lot, then I’ll have to finish you off, right? And I don’t have any idea how to do that, so I’ll just be stabbing you in random places with a knife until I hit a good one.”
Nolan’s jaw dropped.
The great god have mercy. She’s found a way to weaponize ignorance.
“I’ll feel very bad about it,” Halla assured the scholar, gesturing with the crossbow. Every time the tip of the bolt moveda quarter inch, both Nolan and Sarkis flinched. “I don’t want to hurt anyone. That’s why it would be best if you held very still, I think?”
“Servant!” said Nolan. “Servant, defend me!”
Sarkis winced. He had known all along that he was going to have to get involved. The magic of the sword left him no choice. “Halla,” he said, “I’m afraid if you try to kill him, you’ll have to go through me. I’m forced to defend him as long as I’m alive.”
“You can’t fight it?” she asked. “Not even a little?”
I’m trying. I’m trying.
He tried to set his feet. Compulsion dragged him forward anyway, one step at a time.
