The Ruins of Gorlan- Character Reaction

20

"I'll take the book next," Alyss said, shooting Will and Horace a pointed look. The two men fell silent, properly cowed.

THE OTHER HUNTERS CROWDED AROUND THE YOUNG KNIGHT who had made the kill, congratulating him and patting his back. Baron Arald started across toward him, but paused beside Tug, looking up to Will as he spoke.

"You won't see another that size in a long time, Will," he said gruffly."Pity he didn't come our way. I would have liked a trophy like that for myself." He continued on his way toward Sir Rodney, who was already with the group of warriors around the dead boar.

Arald sighed. "I still wish it had come down on our side. That would be quite a prize."

Consequently, Will found himself, for the first time in some weeks, face- to-face with Horace. There was an awkward pause, with neither boy willing to make the first move.

"Of apology, or to fight again?" Gilan asked. Will and Horace both shrugged.

Horace, excited by the events of the morning, his heart still pounding with the thrill of fear he'd felt when the boar first appeared, wanted to share the moment with Will. "Well, that's a surprise," Crowley said. In the light of what they had just seen, their childish squabble seemed unimportant, and now he felt badly about his behavior on that day six weeks ago. But he couldn't find the words to express his feelings and he saw no encouragement to do so in Will's set features, so with a slight shrug, he started to step past Tug to go and congratulate the young hunter. As he did so, the pony stiffened and pricked his ears, giving a warning neigh.

"And here comes boar number two." Will sighed.

Will looked back at the thicket and his blood seemed to freeze in his veins.

There, standing just outside the shelter of the bushes, was another boar— even larger than the one which now lay dead in the snow.

"At least you saw it...even if it was at the last moment."

"I'd rather it not be there at all," Will replied to the tall Ranger.

"Look out!" he cried as the huge beast slashed at the earth with its tusks.

It was a bad situation. The line of hunters had broken up, most of them having moved over to marvel at the size of the dead boar and to praise its killer. Only Will and Horace remained in the path of the second boar— mainly, Will realized, because Horace had hesitated for those few vital seconds.

Horace spun around at Will's shout. He looked at Will, then swung to look at the new danger. The boar lowered his head, tore at the ground again and charged. It all happened with terrifying speed. One moment the huge animal was ripping the ground with its tusks. The next, it was hurtling toward them. Placing himself between Will and the boar, Horace turned without hesitation to face it, setting his spear as Sir Rodney and the Baron had showed him.

"That blasted ice," Horace muttered, shaking his head. "Of all the times to slip, it had to be that."

But, as he did so, his foot slipped on an icy patch in the snow and he sprawled helplessly onto his side, the long spear falling from his grasp.

There was not a second to lose. Horace lay helpless before those murderous tusks. Will kicked his feet clear of the stirrups and dropped to the ground, sighting and drawing back the bowstring even as he did so. He knew his small bow would have no chance of stopping the boar's maddened rush. All he could hope to do was to distract the maddened animal, to turn it away from the helpless boy on the ground.