The Lost Stories by John Flanagan Page A

office and went inside. Gilan knew that Philip’s private quarters were located behind the office. He also noticed that, when the seneschal had emerged from the strong room, he wasn’t carrying the sack of money.
    â€œFascinating,” Gilan said to himself.
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    â€œIt’s a big risk,” Baron Douglas said, frowning, as Gilan laid out the first part of his plan. “You plan to send the tax money in one small cart, with no escort? I don’t like it.”
    â€œIt’s not exactly unescorted,” Gilan said. “After all, I’ll be traveling in the cart.”
    Baron Douglas looked unconvinced. Ranger or not, one man would make little difference if Foldar’s band decided to attack.
    â€œThe point is,” Gilan continued,“Foldar will think the tax money is in the usual convoy. We’ll organize things so it leaves ten minutes after the small cart, with the usual escort.”
    Baron Douglas leaned back in his chair, shaking his head doubtfully.
    â€œIf Foldar does decide to steal the tax money,” he said, “he’ll be watching the castle. And he’ll see the small cart leave, with you aboard it, a few minutes before the large wagon and its escort. He’ll know you wouldn’t let the money out of your sight and he’ll smell a rat. He’ll see through your plan. He’s no fool, you know.”
    â€œI’m banking on it.” Gilan smiled. “Because I’m planning a double bluff. The money will actually be where it’s supposed to be—in the large wagon with the escort. So while Foldar’s busy attacking the small wagon—and giving me a chance to capture him—the real tax wagon will be miles away, and safe.”
    For a moment, Douglas was speechless. His lips moved wordlessly as he pieced together the convoluted working of Gilan’s mind. “So the large wagon, which is supposed to be a decoy, will actually have the money on board all the time. While the small wagon, with you in it, will be the decoy?”
    â€œThat’s right,” Gilan said cheerfully. “Sometimes I’m so devious I confuse myself.”
    â€œI wouldn’t like to be in your shoes when Foldar catches up with you and realizes you’ve tricked him,” Douglas said.
    â€œThat’s part of the plan. I want him to catch up with me. It’ll save me tracking him down.”
    Douglas shook his head at the words. “Better you than me. I wouldn’t care to face him when he’s angry. Those eyes of his are enough to send shivers down your spine. They’re cold and lifeless, like a snake’s.”
    â€œI’ve killed a few snakes in my time,” Gilan said, dropping his insouciant manner. Douglas rubbed his chin nervously as he saw the sudden steel in the young Ranger’s eyes. He let his own gaze slide away and quickly changed the subject.
    â€œOf course, the men who load the wagons will know which one has the money inside. We’ll have to make sure they don’t talk.”
    â€œKeep them locked up for a day,” Gilan said, and Douglas’s brows came together in a frown.
    â€œIsn’t that a little drastic?” he asked.
    Gilan shrugged the protest aside. “You don’t have to chain them up in a dungeon. Just keep them incommunicado for a day. We can’t risk word of the double bluff getting to Foldar. And we know there’s an informer somewhere in the castle. This way, you and I will be the only ones who know the real story.”
    â€œAnd Philip, of course,” Douglas said.“He has to count the money and certify the tax forms. Do you want me to lock him up too?”
    Gilan hesitated for just a moment, then said easily, “No. I’m sure we can trust Philip.”

    â€œHow many men in your troop?” Gilan asked the red-bearded plowman. His name was Bran Richards and he was the commander of the local troop of archers. Every fief in the