The Ruins of Gorlan- Character Reaction

18

Rodney took the book and cleared his throat before beginning to read.

WILL COULDN'T HELP SMILING TO HIMSELF. ANYTHING LESS like a ferocious, charging wild boar, he couldn't imagine. Halt snorted.

"How did you know he was there?" he asked Halt in a soft voice. The Ranger shrugged.

"He's Halt," Crowley said.

"Saw him a few minutes ago. You'll learn eventually to sense when someone's watching you. Then you know to look for them."

Will shook his head in admiration. Halt's powers of observation were uncanny. No wonder people at the castle held him in such awe!

Gilan chuckled. "Too bad they don't know the other side of him."

"Now then," Halt said sternly,"why are you skulking there? Who told you to spy on us?"

The old man rubbed his hands nervously together, his eyes flicking from Halt's forbidding expression to the arrow tip, lowered now but still nocked to the string on Will's bow.

"Why didn't you put the arrow back?" Cassandra asked.

Will shrugged. "Didn't think about it."

"Not spying, sir! No, no! Not spying. I heard you coming and thought you was that monster porker coming back!"

Crowley quickly put a hand to his mouth, trying to hold back the laugh he knew was coming.

Halt's eyebrows drew together."You thought I was a wild boar?" he asked. Again, the farmer shook his head.

"No. No. No. No," he gabbled."Leastways, not once I'd saw you! But then I wasn't sure who you might be. Could be bandits, like."

Gilan frowned slightly. "Bandits?" he repeated. "Both of you had Ranger horses, a bow, and the Ranger cloak! How could any mistake you as bandits?"

Halt shrugged. "He's a farmer. They're simple folk."

"What are you doing here?" Halt asked. "You're not a local, are you?" The farmer, anxious to please, shook his head once again.

"Come from over Willowtree Creek, I do!" he said."Been trailing that porker and hoping to find someone as could turn him into bacon."

"I'll take the bacon," Horace offered.

Halt was suddenly vitally interested. He dropped the mock severe tone in which he had been talking.

"Did you have to mock him?" Crowley asked.

"Yes," Halt replied.

"You've seen the boar, then?" he asked, and the farmer rubbed his hands again and looked fearfully around, as if nervous that the "porker" would appear from the trees any minute.

"Seen him. Heard him. Don't want to see him no more. He's a bad 'un, sir, mark my words."

"I've heard boars tend to be that way," Duncan said mildly.

Halt glanced back at the tracks again.

"He's certainly a big one, anyway," he mused.

"And evil, sir!" the farmer went on."That 'un has a real devil of a temper in him. Why, he'd as soon tear up a man or a horse as have his breakfast, he would!"

"He's a wild animal," Halt said. "Of course he's going to tear up a man or horse."

"So what did you have in mind for him?" Halt asked, then added, "What's your name, by the way?"