The Icebound Land- Character Reaction

24

"Here, Cassie." The Crown Princess scanned the first few words and breathed a silent sigh of relief as she saw the point of view had changed.

THE TWO TRAVELERS SPENT A RESTLESS NIGHT, TAKING IT IN turns to keep watch. Neither of them trusted the local warlord not to come sneaking back in the darkness. As it turned out, however, their fears were unfounded. There was no further sign of Deparnieux that night.

Halt raised an eyebrow. "Oh, are we here already?"

"Two chapters ago," Horace confirmed.

The next morning, as they were saddling their horses in the barn at the rear of the building, the innkeeper approached Halt nervously.

Will raised his head and sat back in his seat. "Naturally," he said dryly. Halt gave him a flat look, and the younger Ranger managed a wan smile.

"I can't say, sir, that I am sorry to see you leave my inn," he said apologetically. Halt patted him on the shoulder to show that he took no offense.

Crowley's eyebrows shot upward. "You did what?" he demanded. "Since when have you ever had an ounce of empathy for someone?" Halt rolled his eyes.

"I can understand your position, my friend. I'm afraid we haven't endeared ourselves to your local thug."

The innkeeper glanced around anxiously before agreeing with Halt, as if frightened that someone might be observing them and might report his disloyalty to Deparnieux. Halt guessed that such a thing had probably happened many times before in this town. He felt sorry for the man in the bar the previous night who had laughed—and been seen to do so by the black knight. Halt scowled.

"He's a bad, bad man, right enough, sir," the innkeeper admitted in a lowered voice. "But what can the likes of us do about him? He has a small army at his back and we're just tradesmen, not warriors."

"As brutal as it sounds, if they were to all ignore him, and he..." Crowley paused, and then shrugged. "If he did his little punishments, or whatever, there would be no one to control, really."

"That's comforting," Horace said dryly. Crowley shrugged.

"I wish we could help you," Halt told him, "but we do have to be on our way." He hesitated just a second, then asked innocently, "Does the ferry at Les Sourges operate every day?"

"Innocently," Crowley repeated. "What are you doing now?"

Les Sourges was a river town that lay to the west, some twenty kilometers away. Halt and Horace were traveling north. But the Ranger was sure that Deparnieux would return, asking for any clues as to the direction they had taken. He didn't expect the innkeeper would keep his question a secret. Nor would he blame him if he didn't. The man was nodding now in confirmation of the question. "Ah," Crowley said.

"Yes, sir, the ferry will still be running at this time of year. Next month, when the water freezes, it will close down and travelers will have to use the bridge at Colpennières."

Halt swung up into the saddle. Horace was already mounted, and held the lead rein for their string of captured horses. After the previous night's events, they had decided it would be wiser to leave the town as quickly as possible.

Horace snorted. "Oh, yes, that worked out swell."

"We'll make for the ferry, then," he said in a carrying voice. "The road forks a few miles to the north, I take it?"

Again, the innkeeper nodded. "That's right, sir. It's the first major crossroads you come to. Take the road to the left and you're headed for the ferry."