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Scyld
Scyld’s confusion outweighed his joy at this pronouncement. “I have already asked you to speak plainly once,” he growled.
“The offer seemed quite clear to me,” Linduial answered.
“The offer, yes, but not what you want in return. Surely no one in their right mind in your position would make such an offer without wanting anything back. What do you want of me?” This was Scyld’s last attempt to make sense out of her. Bargains, he could understand. Offers born of trust or friendship… not so much.
“Well, obviously if I am to testify for you, I must be alive,” she said.
“That is all?” asked Scyld warily.
“Did I ask for anything else?”
What was this, some kind of fool’s bargain? Could it really be possible that there was no catch? If so, how ever did people who thought like this survive and do well for themselves? That such people existed had never truly occurred to Scyld. Unless… there was one other possibility. “How do I know that if I let you or help you to survive, you will really speak for me and that you are not just bargaining for your life?” She just looked at him. “I do not understand you,” he said finally, annoyance creeping back into his voice. “Not at all.”
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