The Ruins of Gorlan- Character Reaction

26

"Your turn, Gil." The tall Ranger took the offered book, emitting a long sigh as he began reading the first few words.

IT WAS A COLD, CHEERLESS CAMP. TIRED FROM THE HARD PACE they had been keeping up, the Rangers ate a cold meal—bread, dried fruit and cold meat once more, washed down with cold water from their canteens. Will was beginning to hate the sight of the virtually tasteless hard rations they carried. Then Halt took the first watch as Will and Gilan rolled themselves into their cloaks and slept.

"At least it kept you fed," Halt said. Will nodded, a bit reluctantly. Maybe, he thought, but they're definitely not on my list of things to eat.

It wasn't the first rough camp that Will had endured since his training period began. But this was the first time there wasn't the slight comfort of a crackling fire, or at least a bed of warm coals, to sleep by. He slept fitfully, uncomfortable dreams chasing through his subconscious—dreams of fearful creatures, strange and terrifying things that stayed just outside his consciousness, but close enough to the surface that he felt their presence, and was unsettled by them.

He was almost glad when Halt shook him gently awake for his watch.

"Almost?" Will snorted. "I should have been more than almost glad."

The wind was scudding clouds across the moon. The moaning song of the Stones was stronger than ever. Will felt a weariness of spirit and wondered if the Stones had been designed to wear people down like this. The long grass around them hissed a counterpoint to the far-off keening. Halt pointed to a spot in the heavens, indicating an angle of elevation for Will to remember.

"When the moon reaches that angle," he told the apprentice, "turn over the watch to Gilan." Gilan gave a melodramatic sigh.

Will nodded, rousing himself and standing to stretch his stiff muscles. He picked up his bow and quiver and walked to the bush Halt had selected as a vantage point. Rangers on watch never stayed in the open by the campsite but always moved away ten or twenty meters, and found a place of concealment. That way, strangers coming upon the campsite would be less likely to see them. It was one of the many skills Will had learned in his months of training.

"I'd hope you learned that," Halt said.

He took two arrows from the quiver and held them between the fingers of his bow hand. He would hold them thus for the four hours of his watch. If he needed them, there would be no excessive movement as he took an arrow from his quiver—movement that might alert an attacker. Then he flipped the cowl of his cloak over his head so he would merge with the irregular shape of the bush. His head and eyes scanned from side to side as Halt had taught him, changing focus constantly, from close to the campsite and out to the dim horizon around them. That way, his vision would not become fixated on one distance and one area and he'd stand a better chance of seeing movement. From time to time, he turned slowly through a complete circle, scanning the entire ground around them, moving slowly to keep his own movement as imperceptible as possible.

"Congratulations, you listened again," Halt muttered. Will grinned.

"Running out of time to tell me that I never listened?" The grizzled Ranger glared at him.

The keening of the Stones and the hissing of wind through the grass formed a constant background. But he began to hear other noises as well— the rustling of small animals in the grass, and other, less explicable, sounds. With each one, his heart raced a little faster, wondering if this might be the Kalkara, creeping in on the sleeping figures of his friends. Once, he was convinced that he could hear the breath of a heavy animal. Fear rose up in him, clutching at his throat, until he realized that, with his senses tuned to the utmost degree, he could actually hear his companions breathing quietly in their sleep.