Royal Ransom (5 page)

“Before we get started I want to know just how much paddling experience my guests have,” Ray said.

“I have canoed a great deal,” Princess Victoria said.

“And you?” he asked her brother.

“A few times. Frankly I didn't like it very much.”

“And the two of you?” Ray asked Albert and Nigel.

“We have received instruction in orienteering in addition to our survival training. We are very qualified,” Albert said.

“Either of you ever been in the bush before?”

“Not technically.”

“But we both know how to paddle a canoe,”Nigel said.

Ray slowly shook his head. “I guess that pretty well decides how we're going to pair up. The little guy goes with me and Jamie will share with the girl and—”

“I'm sorry, but that's not possible,” Albert said, cutting him off.

“What's not possible?” Ray asked.

“It is not possible to have the Prince and Princess separated from us. One of us
must
be with them at
all
times.”

“You're not going to be separated,” Ray said. “The two of you are just going to be in another canoe. We're all taking the same piece of water to the same place, you know.”

“We must be right with them. I am in charge of their security.”

Ray didn't say anything right away, but I could tell from his expression that he was thinking. He bent down slowly and picked up his pack from the canoe.

“Then I hope you all enjoy your trip. Leave the canoes right here when you're done. Come on, Jamie,” he said, and he started to walk away.

“Excuse me!” Albert practically yelled. Ray stopped and turned back around. “You can't just leave!”

“Why not?” Ray asked. “You already told me that you were in charge, that you're in charge of security, so why do you need me?”

“You're the expert! You're the leader!” Albert exclaimed.

Ray smiled and took a few steps back. He dropped his pack back in the canoe. “Now that that's understood, let me explain things a little. You two may be in charge of
their
security,” he said, pointing at the Prince and Princess, “but out here I'm in charge of
everybody's
security. Understand?”

Albert and Nigel reluctantly nodded in agreement.

“And while you may be a prince,” he said, pointing at Andrew, “and you a princess,” he said, nodding at Victoria, “out here I'm the
king
. And Jamie here is the
vice-king
.”

“Vice-king?” Prince Andrew asked. “What is a vice-king?”

“The guy who tells everybody what to do when the king isn't around,” Ray explained. “And if those terms aren't good enough, then we just aren't going. Because you know I'd be just as happy to spend the next five days fishing by myself.”

Everybody looked at Albert.

“Please,” Princess Victoria pleaded. “We'll stay close together. Besides, wouldn't we be safer if we were right there with the people who know the bush the best?”

“She's got a point,” Ray said. “Any danger you're going to meet up here is going to be from something that me and Jamie are more experienced with and able to deal with.”

What sort of danger did he mean? There wasn't much that was very dangerous up here … at least if you knew what you were doing.

Albert looked at the Princess, then the Prince, and finally at Ray. “I imagine that will be sufficient for our security requirements.”

“So the pairings are going to be like I said,” Ray continued. “I'm with … with … what are we supposed to call you two?”

“My friends call me Victoria, or sometimes Vicky.”

“Not Torie?” I asked.

“Never!” she scoffed.

“But on the computer—”

As soon as I said that, Victoria gave me a look that would have stopped a herd of elephants. Just then it was easy to believe she was royalty. In any case, I was obedient and shut up right away.

“And him?”

“Andrew would do fine,” he said.

“Sounds about right,” Ray agreed. “So, Vicky, you're with Jamie, and I'll take Andrew with me.”

R
AY HAD EVERYTHING
already set up and we quickly settled into the canoes. My grandmother came down to
say goodbye, and when she heard me call the Princess “Victoria” her mouth dropped open so wide I thought her jaw was going to hit the ground. Just for kicks I called her that a couple more times and added an “Andrew.”

We headed off to the east—the way I'd figured we'd go. Ray took the lead, I followed, and the two security guys came up last. It was pretty clear pretty fast that there were really only two of us that knew what we were doing. Ray wasn't setting any speed records, and it was easy for me to stay right with him. Albert and Nigel struggled to keep up. They both looked like they were plenty strong, but neither really had much technique going for them.

From my perch at the stern of the canoe the biggest part of my view was the back of the Princess. She was working very hard, digging in the paddle and trying to hold up her end. It looked like she knew the way she was supposed to paddle but wasn't very good at doing what she was supposed to do. We moved along with almost no conversation. It would have been nice to talk a little. On her part, most of her breath was going toward working the paddle. For me, I just didn't know what to say. I didn't know that many girls, and I really didn't know that many girls my age. Especially ones who weren't related to me. Besides, what do you talk to a princess about? Should I ask what TV shows she watched or how she liked school—did she even go to school? Probably she just did princess things. Things like going to fancy parties, or riding around in carriages, or having people do her hair, or maybe having tea, or playing polo. Polo looked like it might be fun. Not that I'd ever been on a horse, but I'd seen them a couple of times.

“You are very lucky,” she said, turning around.

I felt embarrassed because I'd been looking right at her when she turned. But where else was I supposed to be looking?

“Lucky?”

“You get to live up here all the time.”

“I guess that's lucky.”

“It is. To have so much space and so few people would be such a joyous circumstance.”

“Um … sure.” She sure did talk funny. It wasn't just the accent, but the strange way she put words together—
joyous circumstance
—what the heck did she mean by that? Was she trying to sound fun, or cool, or good, or what?

“My father recalls his trip here as one of the very best times of his life,” she continued. “Getting away from everything and everybody and all the expectations and responsibilities.”

“Responsibilities?” I asked.

“Hundreds and hundreds of them. Our time is so scheduled that we hardly have a moment for ourselves. It isn't like I spend all my time going to parties and playing polo.”

For a split second I was taken aback. Thank goodness I hadn't said any of the things I'd been thinking.

“And at every event I must meet with people. Sometimes literally hundreds of people. And even if I am not directly meeting with these individuals, there are still hundreds or even thousands of people who are constantly observing me. At times I feel like I am some sort of exhibit at the zoo.”

“That would be different,” I said.

“It would be different for me to be in a position where my every comment, sneeze and gesture were not seen, photographed, interpreted and then written up in newspapers around the globe! Do you have any idea how unsettling that becomes? I'm constantly being observed. Do you have any idea what that feels like?”

“Sort of.”

“You do?”

“Not the written-about or taking-pictures part, but I understand about being watched. Try living in a village of two hundred people where everybody not only knows everybody but is related to you one way or another. I can't even sneeze without everybody asking me if I'm coming down with a cold.”

She laughed. “Exactly. The worst part for me, though, is the smiling.”

“Smiling?”

“Yes, smiling and waving. I'm expected to be perpetually happy, friendly and polite no matter how nasty or rude the people I'm dealing with are being.”

“That would be hard,” I admitted.

“Sometimes I'd like to just tell them to take a flying leap!”

“Why don't you?” I asked.

“Because the next day it would reported in every newspaper in the world: ‘Princess Victoria is
royally spoiled
,' or something like that.”

“With me it's just everybody in the village. I guess that would be difficult.”

“Believe me, it is. That was perhaps the biggest reason I was looking forward to coming here. I simply wanted to be left alone, to be away from the spotlight.”

“It's okay if you don't want to talk,” I said.

“No, no, I'm enjoying our talk. I'm enjoying all of this.”

“Um … it sounds like your brother doesn't feel the same way. He doesn't seem to like the idea of being up here.”

“My brother does not exactly like any idea. He's quite the little pain, you know. Do you have any little brothers?”

“Nope, just me.”

“Lucky you. The only thing worse than having a little brother is having a little brother who is going to be the king of England some day. He can be such a little brat, and everybody lets him get away with it. Sometimes he angers me so much, I want to throttle him.”

“Do you mean like smack him around?” I asked, not entirely sure what she meant by “throttle.”

“Oh, I would truly like to give him a good slap.”

“Hit him upside his head.”

“I'd love to do that, just once,” she said gleefully.

“You mean you've never hit him, not even once?” I asked in disbelief. They'd looked like they were going to come to blows a couple of times already.

“I cannot very well hit the first in line to the throne, now can I?” she asked.

“Why not? You're a princess. If anybody should be able to take a shot at him it should be you.”

She laughed. “I enjoy the way your mind works.”

“Thanks, I guess.”

“He might like this experience more if he understood what an adventure this will be. Unfortunately he just does not know about the north the way I do.”

“I didn't know you'd been up here before.”

“Well, I haven't. But I have read books, and seen movies and researched websites and heard stories and everything!”

“But you've never been up in the bush?”

“Not really the bush, but I have been in
northern
England. We have a large estate in the north. It's pretty remote. In places there are no towns for dozens and dozens of kilometres.”

I tried to contain it but a laugh popped out. She looked hurt. I hadn't meant to hurt her feelings.

“It's okay, I don't know anything about cities. The biggest place I've ever been is Edmonton, and it scared me.”

“Are you implying that I am afraid of the bush?” she asked indignantly.

“I'm not implying anything. I know that I'm nervous in cities and—”

“You said ‘scared.' That is significantly worse than simply being a little nervous,” she snapped.

“Either way, anybody who doesn't know the bush would be plain
stupid
not to be really, really scared.”

“I'm neither stupid nor scared. I have sufficient information and knowledge to get us through any situation that we might confront. In fact, if you have any questions, please do not feel uncomfortable asking for
my
assistance.”

“
Me,
ask
you
for help?” I asked indignantly. “Just who do you—?”

“Hey, you want to keep it down?” Ray yelled over. “It's supposed to be peaceful up here!”

“Sorry,” I called back.

“Yes, terribly sorry,” she added, though I wasn't sure she really meant it.

“Let's just keep paddling,” I said.

“Certainly,” she said. “Would you mind if I asked you a question?”

“Nope, go ahead, shoot.”

“Your name … it doesn't sound very Native.”

“My mother always liked the name Jamie, and—”

“No, I meant your last name, Ransom,” she said, cutting me off.

“I know lots of Natives with that last name.” Of course, in my village about half the people had that last name. “What were you expecting me to be called, Golden Eagle Song or Naked Bear or something like that?”

“Not exactly … well … possibly.”

“Maybe with some tribal groups, but not ours. Closest you're going to get is Ray. You can pretend it's short for
Ray of Sunlight
instead of Raymond, if that'll help you feel like you've met a real-life Indian.”

“I really meant no offence,” she pleaded.

I held my tongue. “I guess there's none taken … at least not this time. Let's just paddle.”

Chapter Five

R
AY ANGLED HIS CANOE
toward a spot on the shore where I'd camped before. It was a good site with a sandy beach and enough open space to set up our tents. I knew that he would normally have travelled farther than this, but it was probably wise to call it a day. It had been obvious to me for a while that our guests weren't doing so well. Andrew had pretty well stopped paddling, and Victoria's strokes had gotten awfully short and choppy. I had to hand it to her, though, she must have been really tired but she hadn't stopped trying to do her share of the work.

Way back, Albert and Nigel were struggling not to fall any farther behind. They both looked to be pretty strong guys, certainly stronger than me, but canoeing isn't so much about strength as it is technique—the sort of thing you get from experience and doing instead of taking a course.