The Icebound Land- Character Reaction

18

"Can I read?" Jesper asked, leaning forward. Ingvar handed the book to him. Jesper smirked to himself as he saw the Rangers watching him warily.

"I TOLD YOU THAT SYMBOL ON YOUR SHIELD WOULD MAKE traveling easier," Halt remarked to Horace. They sat at ease in their saddles, Halt with one leg cocked up over the pommel, as they watched the Gallic knight who had been barring passage to a crossroads ahead of them set his spurs to his horse and gallop away toward the safety of a nearby town. Horace glanced down at the green oakleaf device that Halt had painted on his formerly plain shield.

"And here comes the Oakleaf Knight," Will said, rolling his eyes dramatically. "Watch out, everyone."

"Oh, shut up, Will." Will grinned.

"You know," he said, with a hint of disapproval in his tone, "I'm not actually entitled to any coat of arms until I have been formally knighted." Horace's training under Sir Rodney had been quite strict and he felt sometimes that Halt didn't pay enough notice to the etiquette of chivalrous behavior. The bearded Ranger glanced sidelong at him and shrugged.

Duncan smiled over at his son-in-law. "You're too honest, Horace," Halt said. Horace raised an eyebrow.

"Better honest than deceptive." Halt smirked.

"For that matter," he remarked, "you're not entitled to contest any of these knights until you've been properly knighted either. But I haven't noticed that stopping you." Halt chuckled, while Horace rolled his eyes.

"You're influencing him, Halt," Gilan said, grinning at the Ranger beside him. "Don't ruin his innocence!"

"He's traveled with Halt and Will more times than I can count, Gilan," Crowley said, shaking his head in mock sorrow. "He's too far gone now." The trio laughed.

Since their first encounter at the bridge, the two travelers had been stopped on half a dozen occasions by freebooting knights guarding crossroads, bridges and narrow valleys. All of them had been dispatched with almost contemptuous ease by the muscular young apprentice. Halt was highly impressed by the young man's skill and natural ability. One after another, Horace had sent the roadside guardians toppling from their saddles, at first with a few deftly placed strokes from his sword and, more recently, as he had captured a good, stout lance with a balance and a feel that he liked, in a thundering charge that unseated his opponent and sent him flying meters behind his galloping horse. By now, the two travelers had amassed a considerable store of armor and weapons, which they carried strapped to the saddles of the horses they had captured. At the next sizable town they came to, Halt planned to sell horses, arms and armor.

Halt snorted. "If the opportunity had come."

For all his admiration of Horace's skill, and despite the fact that he felt a grim satisfaction at seeing the bullying vultures put out of business, Halt resented the continual delays they caused in his and Horace's journey. Even without them, he and Horace would be hard put to reach the distant border with Skandia before the first winter blizzards made it impassable.

"You made it," Will said lightly. Halt gave his former apprentice a slight smile.

Accordingly, five nights previously, as they camped in the half-ruined barn of a deserted farm property, he had rummaged through the piles of old rusting tools and rotting sacks until he unearthed a small pot of green paint and an old, dried-out brush. Using these, he had sketched a green oakleaf design onto Horace's shield. The result had been as he expected. The reputation of Sir Horace of the Order of the Oakleaf had gone before them. Now, more often than not, as the brigand knights had seen them approaching, they had turned and fled at the sight of the device on Horace's shield. Halt smirked.