The Icebound Land- Character Reaction

22

"Will..." His former apprentice was on his knees, still retching as the last of his stomach's contents expelled from his mouth. Tear stains streaked the younger man's face, and Halt knelt next to him, rubbing Will's back in a soothing motion.

"It's alright," he said softly. "It's over and done with. No one blames you, no one judges you for it."

"Why..." Will squeezed his eyes shut as his voice trembled. "Why did I take it...I was so stupid..."

"Will. You are not stupid. You were a slave, a slave without hope. You took it, because you didn't know. You can't blame yourself for something you didn't know."

Will only shook his head, letting out a shaky breath. "I...I should have gotten used to the fact that I did it. But now...when it all comes back..."

Halt nodded, his hand still on the young Ranger's back. "It's alright, Will. They'll understand. It's not your fault."

Will nodded this time, though his whole body still trembled. "I...I need a moment...before..."

Seeing the defeated, broken, and fearful expression in Will's face made his own heart ache. Will was ashamed, scared, and traumatized. I swear if I ever find those two, Halt thought, gritting his teeth. He'd most likely be wanted for murder.

"Take all the time you need," he said softly. "Do you want me to stay with you?" The other Ranger hesitated, and then gave a single nod. "Alright, then. Let me let the others know, and I'll come back."

~~~

Alyss drummed her fingers on the table, an unusual habit for her to show her emotions so readily. She wanted to comfort Will, but something in her told her that he didn't want to see them—Halt was there with him, and she was forced to content herself with the fact.

The door opened, and she rose from her seat as the grizzled Ranger poked his head through. "Is he alright?" she asked before he could speak. "Does he need anything?"

"He'll be fine in a bit," Halt replied. "We need a moment. Just go ahead and read; I'll be out here with him."

Pauline nodded as he left the room. The others shifted in their seats, the shock of what they'd read still sending them reeling. Gilan clutched Jenny's hand tightly, wishing beyond all hope that those two slaves were still alive. He wanted to see them, and he wanted to make them suffer for what they'd done to his friend.

"I'll read, then," Pauline said, sparing one final glance at the door. She was concerned for the young man she had come to regard as a son, but she knew there was little any of them could do for him at the moment.

THE BLACK-CLAD KNIGHT CURSED VIOLENTLY AS THE ARROW ripped his gauntlet from his grasp and thudded, carrying the glove with it, into a heavy oak beam. Horace finally turned his attention back to the story, but the anger still bubbled inside him. The solid impact of the arrow with the beam drew his eyes for a second, then he whirled suspiciously, to see where the missile had come from. For the first time, he registered the presence of a dark, indistinct shape in the shadows at the rear of the room. Then, as Halt moved from behind the table and out into the light, he also registered the longbow, with a second arrow nocked ready to the string. The archer hadn't bothered to draw the bow, but Deparnieux had just seen an example of his skill. He knew he was facing a master archer, capable of drawing and firing in a heartbeat. He stood very still now, controlling his rage with difficulty. He knew his life might well depend on his ability to do so.

"Well," Crowley murmured, a bit dazedly, "at least he's smart enough to realize that."

"Unfortunately for the dictates of chivalry," Halt said, "Sir Horace, knight of the Order of the Oakleaf, is indisposed, with an injury to his left hand. He will therefore be unable to reply to the kind invitation you were about to issue."