The Icebound Land- Character Reaction

10

"I'll read next," Stig offered, and Lydia tossed the book over their row. He caught it with ease, and grinned.

THE ROAD NEARED THE OCEAN, AND THE WOODS ON EITHER SIDE gradually moved closer and closer, as fertile, tilled fields gave way to denser forest country. It was the sort of country where peaceful travelers might well become fearful of bandits, as the thick trees close to the roadside gave ample cover for an ambush. Halt, however, had no such fears. In fact, his mood was so dark that he might well have welcomed an attempt by bandits to rob him of his few belongings.

Crowley raised an eyebrow. "Now why does that not surprise me."

The whisper of steel ran through the room. "Halt," Pauline warned, shooting her husband The Look. With some reluctance, he shoved his saxe knife back in his scabbard, muttering under his breath.

His heavy saxe knife and throwing knife were easy to hand under his cloak, and he carried his longbow strung, resting across the pommel of his saddle, in Ranger fashion. One corner of his cloak, specially made for the purpose, folded back from his shoulder, leaving the feathered ends of the two dozen arrows in his quiver within quick, unimpeded reach. It was said that each Ranger carried the lives of twenty-four men in his quiver, such was their uncanny, deadly accuracy with the longbow.

Aside from these obvious weapons, and his own finely honed instinct for danger, Halt had two other, not so obvious, advantages over any potential attacker. The two Ranger horses, Tug and Abelard, were trained to give quiet warning of the presence of any strangers that they sensed. And now, as Halt rode, Abelard's ears twitched several times and he and Tug both tossed their heads and snorted.

"Wonder who this could be?" Halt asked dryly. Horace grinned.

Halt reached forward and patted his horse's neck gently.

"Good boys," he said softly to the two stocky little horses, and their ears twitched in recognition of his words. To any observer, the cloaked rider was merely quietening his mount—a perfectly normal turn of events. In fact, his senses were heightened and his mind was racing. He spoke again, one word.

"Where?"

"You're supposed to be all-knowing, Halt," Gilan teased.

Abelard's head angled slightly to the left, pointing toward a copse of trees closer to the road than the rest, some fifty meters further on. Halt glanced quickly over his shoulder and noted that Tug, trotting quietly behind him, was looking in the same direction. Both horses had sensed the presence of strangers, or perhaps a stranger, in the trees. Now Halt spoke again.

"Release."

And the two horses, knowing that their warning had been taken and the direction noted, turned their heads back from the direction they had indicated. It was this sort of specialized skill that gave Rangers their uncanny capacity for survival and for anticipating trouble.

The Skandians glanced at one another, apparently impressed. Crowley frowned slightly, hoping most of their secrets wouldn't be spilled.

Still apparently totally unaware of the presence of anyone in the trees, Halt rode forward at the same relaxed pace. He smiled grimly to himself as he considered the fact that the horses could only tell him that someone was there. They could not foretell that person's intentions, or whether or not he was an enemy.

"Me? An enemy?" Horace assumed a look of mock hurt. "How could you ever think that way?"

"Your nonstop chattering is the enemy." Horace laughed.