The Ruins of Gorlan- Character Reaction

28

Will shifted in his seat as the remainder arrived, anxious to hear the rest of the story. Halt raised an eyebrow. "Try to remain calm, Will." Will grinned and shrugged; he couldn't deny it.

"Here, Horace, before Will bursts." The knight grinned as he took the book, taking his time to pursue the first page.

Will raised an eyebrow. "If you don't start, I will shoot you." Horace chuckled, but obliged. He could never be sure if Will meant it or not, and he didn't want to find o it.

THE RIDE TO CASTLE REDMONT SOON SETTLED INTO A BLUR of weariness. The two horses maintained the steady lope for which they had been bred. The temptation, of course, was to urge Tug into a wild gallop, with Blaze following behind. But Will knew that such a course would be self- defeating. He was moving at the horses' best speed. As Old Bob, the horse trainer, had told him, Ranger horses could maintain a canter all day without tiring. The four Rangers grinned.

It was a different matter for the rider. Added to the physical effort of moving constantly to the rhythm of whichever horse he was riding—and the two had distinctly different gaits, due to their difference in size—was the equally debilitating mental strain. Will snorted softly.

What if Halt were wrong? What if the Kalkara had suddenly veered to the west and were heading now on a course that would intercept his? What if he made some terrible mistake and failed to reach Redmont in time?

"Well, those are fun thoughts," Gilan said lightly. The younger Ranger grinned in embarrassment.

That last fear, the fear of self-doubt, was the hardest one of all to deal with. In spite of the hard training he had undergone over the past months, he was still little more than a boy. What was more, he had always had Halt's judgment and experience to rely on in the past. Now he was alone—and he knew how much depended on his ability to carry out the task he had been set.

Halt sighed with mock displeasure. "Do you really think I'll be around forever?" Will frowned at the sentiment.

"Halt," he began. The older Ranger frowned in confusion, and then understanding dawned in his eyes.

He grunted. "I didn't mean it like that." Will was still frowning.

Crowley cleared his throat tentatively. "Let's continue on, shall we?"

The thoughts, the doubts, the fears crowded his tired mind, tumbling over each other, jostling for position. The Salmon River came and went beneath the steady rhythm of his horses' hooves. He paused to water the horses briefly at the bridge, then, once on the King's Highway, he made excellent time, with only short halts at regular intervals to change his mount.

Gilan snickered. "Short Halts," he said. Will lost his frowned and joined in with his brother's laughter. Halt glared at them both.

"Will, you have no room to talk."

"I'm at least taller than you. Not much, but still."

The day's shadows lengthened and the trees overhanging the road grew dark and menacing. Each noise from the darkening trees, each vaguely seen movement in the shadows, brought his heart to his mouth with a lurch.

Here, an owl hooted and stooped to fasten its claws around an unwary mouse. There, a badger prowled, hunting its prey like a gray shadow in the undergrowth of the forest. With each movement and noise, Will's imagination worked overtime. He began to see great black figures—much as he imagined a Kalkara would look—in every patch of shadow, in every dark clump of bushes that stirred with the light breeze. Reason told him that there was almost no chance that the Kalkara would be seeking him out. Imagination and fear replied that they were abroad somewhere—and who was to say they weren't close by?