The Burning Bridge- Character Reaction

2

"Here." Halt handed the book to Duncan. "It's your turn to read." The King nodded, flipping through the pages before beginning to read.

HALT TURNED SLOWLY TO FACE HIS IMPULSIVE YOUNG APPRENTICE, and raised his eyebrows at the outburst. Will, subsiding, muttered, "Sorry, Halt," and the older Ranger nodded.

"Impulsive," Halt remarked. "See what I mean?"

"I should think so. It's more than obvious that Gilan is asking if I'll release you to accompany him to Celtica."

Gilan nodded confirmation of the fact and Will frowned, puzzled by the sudden turn of events. "Me?" he said incredulously. "Why me? What can I do in Celtica?"

Both Will and Gilan smirked. The two Rangers knew exactly what was coming.

The moment the words had left his mouth, he regretted them. He should have learned by now never to give Halt that sort of opening. Halt pursed his lips as he considered the question.

"Ask interminable questions, interrupt your betters and forget to do your chores, I suppose. The real question is, Can you be spared from duty here? And the answer to that is 'Definitely.'"

"Why did you give him an opening?" Gilan asked. Will sighed.

"Gil, I wish I knew the answer to that."

"Then why..." Will gave up. They would either explain or they wouldn't. And no amount of asking would make Halt deliver that explanation a second sooner than he chose to. In fact, he was beginning to think that the more questions he asked, the more Halt actually enjoyed keeping him dangling.

"I do," Halt replied as Will looked to him. His former apprentice rolled his eyes.

It was Gilan who took pity on him, perhaps remembering how closemouthed Halt could be when he chose.

"I need you to make up the numbers, Will," he said. "Tradition-ally, the Celts insist that an official embassy be made up of three people. And to be honest, Halt's right. You're one who can be spared from the main effort here in Araluen." He grinned a little ruefully. "If it makes you feel any better, I've been given the mission because I'm the most junior Ranger in the Corps."

"That wasn't the only reason I sent you," Crowley protested mildly.

Gilan raised an eyebrow. "Only?" he asked. "It was a reason, however. You just proved that."

"But why three people?" Will asked, seeing that Gilan at least seemed disposed to answer questions. "Can't one deliver the message?"

"If we want to wait ten years," Duncan said.

Gilan sighed. "As we were saying, it's a superstition among the Celts. It goes back to the old days of the Celtic Council, when the Celts, the Scotti and the Hibernians were one alliance. They were ruled then by a triumvirate."

"Cut to the chase, Gilan," Crowley quipped.

"The point is," Halt interrupted, "of course Gilan can take the message to them. But if he's a sole messenger, they'll keep him waiting and fob him off for days, or even weeks, while they dither over form and protocol. And we don't have that sort of time to waste. There's an old Celtic saying that covers it: One man may be deceit. Two can be conspiracy. Three is the number I trust."

"So you're sending me because you can do without me?" Will said, somewhat insulted by the thought.

Will sighed, shaking his head. "Sometimes, I don't even know what I'm doing."

Halt decided that it was time to massage Will's young ego a little—but only a little. "Well, we can, as a matter of fact. But you can't send just anyone on these embassies. The three members have to have some sort of official status or position in the world. They can't be simple men-at-arms, for example."