Part 7 (1/2)
”Oh, come now, Halt. Is that any way for friends to speak to each other?”
He glanced at her now. The smile was still lurking there at the corners of her mouth. The frown was an artifice. She was gently teasing him, he realized, and he determined that he would not give her the satisfaction of rising to her bait.
”Are we friends, Lady Alyss?” he said, and she inclined her head thoughtfully. The action reminded him of Lady Pauline and he realized how much this girl was like her mentor. He remembered Pauline when she was much younger. It could have been her riding beside him, he thought.
”I would hope so, Halt. After all, I am a friend of Will's and I'm apprenticed to one of your oldest friends, I believe. Doesn't this give us some kind of...special relations.h.i.+p?”
”I am your escort, Lady,” he replied and his tone left no doubt that the conversation should end there.
With most people, that would have been the result. Halt could be quite a forbidding figure when he chose. And many people clung to the belief that Rangers dabbled in black magic, and so, were people who should not be annoyed. Obviously, however, this girl wasn't one of those people.
”As you say, you're my escort. And I'm very grateful that you are. But that's not to say that we can't be friends as well. After all, it's quite daunting to be on my first a.s.signment.” She paused, and then said quietly, ”I'm not altogether sure that I'm up to it, as a matter of fact.”
”Of course you are!” Halt said immediately. ”Pauline knows her business. If you weren't 'up to it,' as you put it, she would never have entrusted the mission to you. She thinks very highly of you, you know,” he added.
”She's an amazing woman,” Alyss said, and the admiration in her voice was obvious. ”I've looked up to her for years, you know. She's succeeded so well in what is generally regarded as a man's world.”
Halt nodded agreement. ”Amazing is a good word for her. She's courageous, honest and enormously intelligent. Smarter than most men too. Baron Arald saw those qualities in her years ago. She was the one who convinced him that women are more suited to the diplomatic role than men.”
”I've heard people say that. Why does he think that way?”
Halt shrugged. ”He feels women are more inclined to talk things through, whereas men tend to resort to physical methods more quickly.”
”So, for example, Lady Pauline would never resort to throwing someone into a moat if they were being objectionable?” she said, and Halt glanced up at her sharply. Her face was totally deadpan. Pauline had trained her well, he thought.
”No,” he agreed. ”But I didn't say that she's always right. Some people deserve to be thrown into moats.”
He realized now that he had been chattering on with her for some minutes, in spite of his determination to maintain his usual grim, tight-lipped manner. She had drawn him out like an angler luring a fish to the hook, he realized, and he wasn't sure how she had done it. And now she was smiling at him again. He harrumphed noisily and turned away to scan the woods on either side.
This far to the west, there was little danger to be expected. And his horse Abelard would alert him if there were any enemies or wild beasts lurking in the bushes nearby. But scanning the terrain gave him an opportunity to break off the conversation.
Alyss watched him curiously. She had seen him around Redmont for years, of course. But when Lady Pauline had introduced them the day before, she had been surprised to realize that he was at least a head shorter than she was. A lot of men were, though. She was an exceptionally tall girl and she carried herself erect. But Halt had an amazing reputation-a seven-foot-tall reputation, she mused. He was famous throughout the kingdom and one tended to think of him as a larger-than-life character. Seen close-up, he was surprisingly small in stature. Like Will, she thought, and that set her to wondering.
”What qualities does a Ranger need, Halt?” she asked.
He glanced back at her. Once bitten, twice shy, he thought. She wasn't going to draw him out into an extended conversation again.
”A propensity for silence is a good one,” he said, and she smiled, genuinely amused at something.
”Somehow I can't see Will managing that,” she said. She and Will had grown up together as orphans in the Castle Ward. He was probably her oldest friend. In spite of himself, Halt's lips twitched in what was almost a smile.
”No. He does tend to chatter, doesn't he?” he agreed. Then, realizing that she might think he was criticizing the boy, he continued quickly, ”But that's part of being a Ranger as well. He's always asking questions. He's always curious, always ready to learn more. A good Ranger needs that. Eventually, he'll learn to curb his tongue a little.”
”Not entirely, I hope,” said Alyss. ”I can't imagine Will becoming grim and forbidding and taciturn, like”-she hesitated and amended what she was about to say-”some people.”
Halt raised one eyebrow at her. ”Some people?” he repeated, and she shrugged.
”n.o.body particular in mind,” she said. Then, changing tack, she said, ”He's very brave, isn't he? I mean, you must be proud of what he's done.”
Halt nodded. ”He has true courage,” he said. ”He can feel fear, he can be afraid. But it doesn't stop him from doing what he has to. Mindless courage isn't any sort of real courage at all.”
”You've trained him well,” Alyss said, but Halt shook his head.
”The training is important. But the qualities have to be there from the beginning. You can't teach courage and honesty. There's a basic openness and lack of malice in Will.”
”You know,” she said confidentially, ”when I was a child, I always said I was going to marry him.”
Inwardly, he smiled at her words. When I was a child. She was barely more than a child now, he thought. Then he changed his mind. She was a Courier. A Diplomatic apprentice. She wore the bronze laurel branch and that meant she was very much more than a child.
”You could do a lot worse,” he said finally, and she glanced across at him.
”Really?” she said. ”Do you think diplomats and Rangers make a good match, Halt?” Her tone was just too innocent, too casual. He knew exactly what she was getting at and this time he wasn't going to be drawn. He was not going to discuss any relations.h.i.+p that might or might not have existed between himself and the beautiful Lady Pauline.
He met her gaze very evenly for some moments, then said, ”I think we might stop here for lunch. This is as good a place as any.”
Alyss's mouth twitched with a smile again. But this time it was a slightly rueful one.
”You can't blame a girl for trying,” she said.
11.
WILL FELT HORACE'S HAND ON HIS SHOULDER AS THE BIGGER boy began to pull him back from the two bandits.
”Back away, Will,” Horace said quietly.
The man with the club laughed. ”Yes, Will, you back away. You stay away from that nasty little bow I see over there. We don't hold no truck with bows, do us, Carney?”
Carney grinned at his companion. ”That we don't, Bart, that we don't.” He looked back at the two boys and frowned angrily. ”Didn't we tell you to drop those sticks?” he demanded, his voice rising in pitch and very, very ugly in tone. Together, the two men began to advance across the clearing.
Horace's grip now tightened and he jerked Will to one side, sending him sprawling. As he fell, he saw Horace turn to the rocks behind him and grab up his sword. He flicked it once and the scabbard sailed clear of the blade. That easy action alone should have warned Bart and Carney that they were facing someone who knew more than a little about handling weapons. But neither of them was overly bright. They simply saw a boy of about sixteen. A big boy, perhaps, but still a boy. A child, really, with a grown-up weapon in his hand.
”Oh, dear,” said Carney. ”Have we got our daddy's sword with us?”
Horace eyed him, suddenly very calm. ”I'll give you one chance,” he said, ”to turn around and leave now.”
Bart and Carney exchanged mock terrified looks.
”Oh, dear, Bart,” said Carney. ”It's our one chance. What'll us do?”
”Oh, dear,” said Bart. ”Let's run away.”
They began to advance on Horace and he watched them coming. He had the practice stick in his left hand now and the sword in his right. He tensed, balanced on the b.a.l.l.s of his feet as they advanced on him, Carney with the rusty, ragged-edged sword snaking in front of him and Bart with the spiked cudgel laid back on his shoulder, ready for use.
Will scrambled to his feet and began to move toward his weapons. Seeing the action, Carney moved to cut him off. He hadn't gone a pace when Horace attacked.
He darted forward and his sword flashed in an overhead cut at Carney. Startled by the sheer speed of the apprentice warrior's move, Carney barely had time to bring his own blade up in a clumsy parry. Thrown off balance and totally unprepared for the surprising force and authority behind the stroke, he stumbled backward and sprawled in the dust.